What They Don't Tell You About Being Bilingual Is That You Won't Be Smarter And More Eloquent In One

what they don't tell you about being bilingual is that you won't be smarter and more eloquent in one language over the other. instead you get to be stupid twice.

hello kitty keychains and annoying co-workers | l.jh

a/n; just thinking about jihoon soft launching his s/o.

jihoon's footsteps echo through the cold building and he's met with bows from everyone walking past him. he acknowledges them, bowing back with a stern visage.

his expensive black bag is strung on his shoulder and he walks with ease, confidence oozing with his presence. to anyone who is not aware of his romanticistic nature, he's the cold, grumpy producer who hasn't touched a woman in years.

entering the elevator, he presses the floor button and leans against the panel. but before the doors could close, someone enters the elevator cab. jihoon sighs inwardly, looking at the person.

soonyoung, one of the choreographers in the company. and jihoon is pretty sure he shits rainbows 'cause how the hell can a person always be this cheerful?

he sighs internally, expecting for a social interaction to be thrown towards his face but soonyoung only bows and stands a few feet away from him.

while jihoon feels grateful, he can't help but be a bit disappointed. the horror appalls him, does he want a man pretending to be a tiger to be his friend?

it isn't until that the elevator dings, when soonyoung speaks. a smirk lines his lips with a glint of mischief in his eyes, “nice keychain.”

the younger stares at him, confused as he steps out with a wink. jihoon leans down to look at his bag, and-ah there it is. a hello kitty keychain hangs by one of the zippers.

right then, a text message pops up from you, asking him if he reached safely. a soft smiles graces his features and pink tints his skin.

he sends a text along with a selfie of him. following it up with a 'thank you for the keychain.'

thoughts of you flood his mind. he clears up his schedule to watch the new episodes of an anime with you and also arranges a dinner date with you because he wants to. and a thought of soonyoung being a sexist pops up but is quickly pushed down by the thought of making it official with you.

his smile widens, and a deeper shade of pink tints his cheeks and ears. he doesn't care that anyone may walk through the elevator, and find the senior producer blushing and smiling like a teenager.

he takes a few pictures (with the help of mingyu) and uploads them on his instagram. a picture of him with the bag and the keychain along with the picture two silhouettes by the han river graces his account.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag @nurihihi (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

"pretty"

tldr: all the way chan uses your nickname a/n: he is my boyfriend (for real(not clickbait))

chants: when he needs you to slow down

“pretty, pretty, pretty” he rushes out, trying to get you to focus on him. you were pacing back and forth in the bedroom listing things off on your fingers, trying to remember if you forgot to pack something in your already overflowing suitcase. you were headed to busan for your anniversary and unlike him, you were a little stressed. 

“who knew it was so hard to pack for three days” he said under his breath as he got up from the bed stopping you in your tracks. you look up at him, face flushed from the stress and pout. he swears his heart skips a beat. he knew he shouldn’t think it was cute to see you so stressed but he was so endeared by the effort you’d put into this trip for the two of you. 

”this is going to be great because we’re celebrating us. let it be fun, pretty.” his shoulders shook as he saw you roll your eyes, pulling a deep laugh from him. you stepped around him and continued pacing, side-eyeing his empty bag in the closet. “it's our anniversary, you could forget your luggage entirely and it would actually make me happier.” 

slurs: when you open the door

“pretty~” he drawls, giving you a million-dollar smile. your eyes bulge as you take in the very drunk man before you. you were under the impression that he would be staying with the boys tonight since it was a “boy’s night”.  skincare complete, you thought you’d be alone for the evening and had your show already pulled up on the tv and your favorite snacks laid out on the coffee table. 

“let me in” he whines and you grab his hand, quickly pulling him into your apartment afraid your neighbors might come out to investigate the noise. you didn’t want anyone to catch you and your boyfriend in a less-than-desirable state. you had just moved into this building together. he beams at you, leaning down for a kiss, but you pull away, grossed out by the smell of liquor on his breath.

“you’re not even going to kiss me?” he was pouting now, disappointed he’d gotten a ride back to your apartment from the dorms and wasn’t even going to get a kiss for his efforts. you watched his pout deepen into a frown and gave in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, still repelled by the smell of his mouth. “if i shower will you kiss me for real?”

sniffles: after a fight

“hey, pretty?” he knocks on the bedroom door, peeking his head in. you’re flat on your back, eyes staring above you at nothing. he stands nervously at the door, unsure if he should enter. when you glance in his direction, he takes it as an invitation to come in. 

‘'i umm…” he pauses, standing next to the bed, your shared bed that now he wasn’t sure he was welcome in. you saw his hesitation and reached out a hand for him. the distance between you suddenly unbearable, fight seeming frivolous now reflecting upon it. you couldn’t even remember what you had been fighting about to begin with. all of it seemed so silly now after having spent the last few hours alone in this room when the person you wanted to be with most was in the living room, the only thing keeping you apart was your shared stubbornness. 

“i’m sorry, pretty,” he sat down at your side, grabbing your hand. your eyes had been trained on the slowly spinning fan above you but now turned to him, shocked to hear his voice so thick with emotion. you sat up, keeping your hands connected, sensing he needed some comfort in this moment. “i don’t like fighting with you, pretty.” 

grunts: when you land on top of him

“pretty–” it came out gruff, surprised by the sudden addition of your weight on his lap. the puff he’d been holding in his mouth came out with his words, making the already hazy living room even more so.  his eyes were lidded and rimmed red and you couldn’t help yourself when you saw him sitting on the couch scrolling on his phone with one hand, a joint balanced in the other. 

“is everything alright?” he was stoned, not fully coherent, but could still tell something was up. when you kissed him instead of providing an answer, he understood. you did always have a thing for him when he smokes. kissing you felt better than any joint had ever made him feel, the rush immediate and the high unmatched. 

“whoa,” he pulled back when you deepened the kiss, as far back as he could go pressed into a couch with you on his lap. the sting of rejection hurt but he soothed it immediately pressing smaller kisses sound your face, pulling a giggle from you, suddenly feeling a little high yourself, probably on him. “let’s get out of here and,” he held up the other half of his joint, “finish this somewhere more private?”

mumbles: when he wants something

“pretty?” you looked up at him from the floor of the practice room, setting your laptop aside to give him your attention. you’d recently gotten into the habit of bringing your work with you to hybe when you came to watch him practice. as much fun as it was, it got kind of old to watch him perfect the same five moves for hours on end. 

“would you dance with me?” he’s holding a hand out to you, a hopeful smile on his lips but words timid, rushed. you suddenly notice the dimmed lighting in the room and soft music playing from the speakers. you’d been so lost in your screen you hadn’t noticed anything. you blush and take his hand. he pulls you to your feet and into his chest. 

“you’re a good dancer,” he says after a few minutes of slowly swaying back and forth to a playlist full of romantic music he made with only you in mind, this moment was something he had hoped for when you’d started coming to the practice room at night. “i love you, pretty.”  

thoughts on vernon with a gf that has a lower back tattoo?

oh that man is so fucking obsessed with the 90’s/early 2000’s aesthetic he’d see it and immediately want to lock it down. heart eyes 100%.

i imagine he wouldn’t notice for a while… like you wouldn’t have been dating for too long but it’d have been a couple of months. you know and you’ve had sex a few times but always in missionary so he’s never had the chance to see it, not really.

but you’re at the pool together one day and you ask him to put sunscreen on your back and that’s when he finally sees it. the hint of the shape of a heart, tendrils of ink swirling out from its edges are visible over the hem of your bikini bottoms.

vernon’s eyes go wide and he freezes, bottle of sunblock in hand. he’d been mid-squeeze when he noticed and the glob of lotion that was meant to go in his palm lands on his ankle instead.

it’s all he can do not to beg you to pull your swimsuit down and show him the rest of it right here in the middle of this very public space. his mind is suddenly filled with thoughts of you on all fours on his bed, you with your back arched for him as he traces the lines of your tattoo with his fingers— maybe his tongue.

he wants to take you back up to his apartment and give you backshots until one of you taps out, and then go again in the shower against the glass, or bent over the dining room table.

but you just got here. and you’re giving him a weird look. and he has sunscreen on his foot now.

“babe?”

vernon blinks, trying to shake himself out of it. “hm?”

“the sunscreen? i don’t want to get burned.”

“right, sorry,” he apologizes, “got lost in thought for a minute.”

Toji has only ever called you mommy once and that happened the first time you rode him. He had just gotten out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist and hair dripping wet, as he lies down on the bed. Just watching him lit a fire inside you, he always looked so fine even when he wasn’t doing anything, like right now. You tiptoe your way towards the bed, crawling onto him to straddle his hips.

“You ready for bed now princess?” His hands come to rest on your hips, giving them a soft squeeze. Your head falls into the crook of his neck, smelling the fresh scent of his body wash. Toji lets out a soft groan as you begin peppering kisses to his neck and jaw. You're able to feel his cock grow hard under you as you begin to grind against him, eager for some friction. Your nails run down from his chest to his abs causing him to shiver slightly under your tantalizing touch as your hands reach their final destination. The towel. With one small flick, it falls to the sides of his hips finally revealing what you craved for more than sleep.

At this point, he knows exactly what you want. Looking at you with his signature smirk, meeting your lustful eyes, he uses one finger to pull your panties to the side, allowing his tip to press into your heat. “Take what you want baby,” he slides his cock through your slick folds. You take his cock into your hand and align him with your entrance, slowly taking him in, the stretch satisfying your very needy cunt. Tojis hands land back on your hips trailing down to your ass as he throws his head back, eyes shut close as he feels your soft walls clench around him. Your hands grope his broad shoulders for support as you take his entire length inside.

“Fuck…you feel so good,” a deep groan leaves his lips, pure bliss running through his body. His hands grip your hips tighter as he tries to concentrate on his cock buried deep inside your warm pussy. “God yes.. Fuck me, princess. Just like that,” His hands fumble on your hips, desperate to help you move faster but, you didn’t want to cum just yet…

“Hold on baby…” you whisper into his ear as your hands intertwine with his. This is when Toji’s brain short circuits. The man was fucked out. Whimpering nonsense as you ride his cock painfully slow, anxiously trying to buck his hips up into you. “Fuck.. mommy,” he grunts, voice low and needy, eyes rolling back as bursts of thick cum paint your gummy walls. A string of moans and gasps leave your lips as you reach your own orgasm.

Still trying to catch your breath, Toji watches you with his mouth wide open as you slowly slide yourself off his cock. “So you wanna talk about that?” you tease, falling to his side, and pulling the bedsheets over you two. “Not a word…” he closes his eyes in embarrassment, a deep shade of red spreading across his face.

seventeen acting clingy around their s/o

PAIRING. seventeen (o13) x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship, headcanons WARNINGS. terms of endearment, mentions of kissing WORD COUNT. 1.04k

requested by anon: hi hi i’m a fairly new follower n i jus saw that ur reqs are open !! i hope im not too late ^^; but anyway, how would svt act whenever they feel clingy and needy towards their s/o? hehe ty and i lov u 🫶

notes: hehe i hope this is good!

choi seungcheol

his eyes and pout are literally following whatever direction you walk. waits on the bed with his hoodie on while you are cruising in and out of the room to grab something or put your laundry away. is slowly melting into the bed waiting for you to notice him and when you FINALLY walk back in the room asking to use his charger, he’ll be pulling you into his arms just muttering “stay with me, pleaseeee. I’ve missed you,” in your ears n you just gotta give in because he misses you sm 

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