#i say english because i do like her japanese voice actually

[bmpmp3]

for the past couple years ive been slowly. slowly learning beginners japanese and its very fun and im enjoying it a lot but also it has made me painfully aware in ways i wasnt before of how much my specific vaguely ontario accent makes me make out sloppy style with my vowels. i am going at those vowel's tonsils. i am doing things to diphthongs you wouldnt even believe.

[sonknuxadow]

i say i dont like creams voice in sonic dream team but to be honest i didnt really like any of her english voices at first ive just gotten used to them over time . sorry cream

[yuwuta]

please feed us some yuuji blurbs there’s a lack of him rn :(

ofc… sweetest boy all time… here’s something was was meant to be a longer project but got lost in the editing whirlwind… love him so bad... 

NEVER LOST IN TRANSLATION, BECAUSE YOU KNOW WHAT I WANT 

notes: reader is implied to be american/english-speaking, yuuta and megumi are bilingual, yuuji, bless his soul, is not. i didn’t use italics for conversations between yuuji and megumi because it would all be in japanese, but when they get mixed later in the scene, japanese is differentiated with italics. hope that’s not too confusing lololll

Honestly, Yuuji tried his best in school. Some things came easier than other, but with a bit of hard work, and help from his friends, he always managed to pull pretty good grades. But right now, his biggest regret is not taking english more seriously in high school, because it’s been about three weeks since he met you, and he’s only been able to say maybe five full sentences to you without the help of Yuuta or Megumi translating. 

He was excited when Yuuta said his friend from abroad would be coming to visit and study, but god, he didn’t expect you to be so pretty. To have such pretty eyes, and pretty lips, and pretty hair, to have the prettiest voice in the world despite him only understanding every eighteenth word you say. You’re beautiful to him, and Yuuji thinks that even if he could speak your language fluently, the words would still get caught in his throat. He’s so lovesick, it’s embarrassing—his friends have been harping on him blushing and stuttering over you for the past month, and he can’t even blame them.

“What does she say to you when you guys talk,�� Yuuji whines, hovering around Megumi, and not-so-discreetly looking back at you where you’re still sat in the living room laughing with Yuuta, “Does she ever say anything about me? I mean—probably not right? Which is fine! Actually, dont tell me—no, do. Or maybe—”

“She asks about you,” Megumi says, matter-of-fact in delivery, as he places a bag of popcorn in the microwave, but that doesn’t curb Yuuji’s enthusiasm. He’s practically bouncing, if he weren’t already—begging Megumi to spill the details, “What did she ask? Tell me! Tell me!” 

“She once asked if you dye your hair.”

“That’s it?!” Yuuji screams, heartbroken, and visibly deflating.

Megumi shrugs, “Yuuta probably knows more. She’s his exchange buddy friend thing, so ask him.”

“I can’t ask him, he’s right next to her!” Yuuji pouts, “Wait, what does ‘exchange buddy friend thing’ mean? You don’t think they’re more than friends, right…? I can’t blame her, senpai is really pretty, too, and he can actually talk to her… so unfair.” 

“You know, she’s not fluent, but she can understand some Japanese,” Megumi reminds him, “So, she can definitely hear you, and probably understand you.”

Yuuji’s shoulders slump, and once again, he turns around to look back at you. This time, you two make eye-contact, and that instant, Yuuji’s cheeks go pink, a nervous hand raised to wave at you, and instant internal regret at his actions; but, then you smile, and wave back, and Yuuji stays like that, dumbfounded and lovestruck and on autopilot as he waves with hearts in his eyes until Yuuta looks up from his phone and catches him.

Embarrassing. He knows he’s not the brightest, but he’s at a record high of self-embarrassment since he’s met you.

Yuuta finds himself chuckling when Yuuji spins around and goes back to prodding Megumi with questions. When you turn to face him again, it’s with a shy smile.

“I told you you’d like him,” Yuuta grins—the kind that seems sweet and innocent, but has just a kiss of that all-knowing tease to it; the kind that reminds you that he’s truly related to Satoru.

“Oh, be quiet,” you grumble, tucking your legs in and resting your chin on your knee. You spare another glance in Yuuji’s direction, for once, grateful for the language barrier between the two of you, when you turn back to Yuuta to proclaim: “I can like someone and not do anything about it. You’re real good at that, aren’t you?”

Yuuta’s slightly cocky grin falls into a scowl, and now you get to smile when he argues back, “We said not to bring up he who shall not be named in the presence of my friends!”

“Then don’t bring up my he who shall not be named in the presence of him!”

“Aren’t Americans all about forging new frontiers and chasing after your dreams?” he taunts, “Well, your dream is right in front of you.”

“My dream right now is to kill you.”

“Lucky for me, you’re going to have to hold off on that because your lover boy is approaching.”

You don’t have time to argue back with Yuuta when Megumi and Yuuji approach the living area with snacks in tow. Yuuta scoots to the tail end of the couch under the guise of giving Yuuji space to place the popcorn and nuggets in the center of the coffee table, but he has just enough time to flash you a wink before Yuuji settles in between. Megumi opts for the loveseat closets to Yuuta’s end of the couch, and you do your best not to reach over Yuuji and strangle Yuuta.

The boys decide on watching a movie you’ve never heard of, but Megumi reassures you it’ll be easy to follow and has English subtitles. You don’t mind, settling in to your corner of the couch with a handful of popcorn just as the title-screen for Human Earthworm 3 rolls across the TV.

You can follow along well-enough—even without subtitles, you get the gist of the movie. What you really find entertaining is Yuuji, who occasionally blurts out a comment or exclamation, or audibly coos whenever something sad is happening on screen. He’s almost as animated as the characters; you’re more of the silent-watcher type, but you find yourself endearing by this commentary, even if you can only understand parts of it.

You particularly appreciate the way that after every comment, he either motions to Megumi, or turns to you himself to repeat his thoughts in his best broken English, and even when you don’t understand his words, you understand him. His emotions are all on his sleeve: frustration, happiness, confusion, curiosity—communication between you two should be more difficult, but Yuuji makes it easy.

It gives you the confidence you cough out your own observation, “You, um… you’ve… seen the others? You seem to like this series.”

Across the room, Megumi and Yuuta hold their breaths, opting to not translate for you when you switch from Japanese to English. Yuuji is quiet for a moment, turned to face you with a slightly confused look on his face that makes you nervous, until his eyes brighten up and he smiles and begins nodding fervently—“Yeah—yeah, I do! It’s my… hm how do I say it… Oh! It’s my favorite!”

Between the smile on his face, the blush on his cheeks, and sincerity in his voice, you feel like you’re wrapped up in his world. It’s a little confusing, and scary, but it’s not all that bad. Maybe you can do something about it, eventually.

“I.. I think I like it, too.”

[gotta-winwin]

2020 <> can you hear me in the silence?

masterlist

word count: 2.3k TW: downbad!wonwoo, hints at cyana's past, fluff, comfort, one swear word italics are in english, bolded words are in japanese a/n: we love a downbad wonwoo moment and oblivious cyana- this pairing is always so fun to write! threw in a little sneak peak of cyana's past and what's to come...

Wonwoo felt a swirl of guilt and nausea each time he saw Cyana. Ever since that night - where Wonwoo had fainted backstage and Cyana had kindly stayed next to him through it all - he felt he owed the girl immensely. They hadn't talked at all since - Wonwoo knew he was continuing to avoid the girl - not because of his fear this time, but out of guilt. He knew he had been rude and callous to the girl since day one and regretted it deeply.

There was nothing he could say however, each time he tried to speak to her, his tongue refused to cooperate and his throat would close up. He'd end up looking like a fool in front of her, his usually charismatic self reduced into silence.

He figured he had always been better at showing instead of telling.

ONE:

Cyana was woefully overstimulated and it was showing. Her eyes had glazed over, as she sat in between DK and Dino, bearing the front of all the chaos.

Wonwoo knew it had been a long day for the girl. Cyana had been paraded around Tokyo, finishing interviews and photoshoots and still making time to grab dinner with Joshua and Jun. He had seen how eager she had been to crash in her room the moment they had returned back to the hotel. It was purely because she couldn't say no to Dino that she was still awake, joining them all for late night drinks.

"...and then you would've believe what she told me." DK continued on with his story, halfway through his third can of beer. His voice was loud, as the alcohol lowered his inhibitions.

"Dokyeom-ah." Wonwoo cut in before he could continue. His voice was quiet, but firm nonetheless.

The boy in question turned his head to the corner of room where Wonwoo sat. "Oh, hyung."

"Let's lower our voices, okay?" He reminded gently, still eyeing Cyana. "We don't want to get another noise complaint."

DK nodded. "Whoops." He smiled sheepishly. "You're right."

Wonwoo turned to look at Hoshi and Mingyu as well, who had both been cackling over something on Mingyu's phone. "You two as well."

The volume died significantly, and Wonwoo could see Cyana's shoulders relax. He turned back to nursing his own can of beer, watching as she blinked out of her stupor and leaned comfortably against Dino to listen to DK's story.

TWO:

Joshua would've joked that Wonwoo seemed to be stalking Cyana had it not been very true. He could see his eyes following her every move, and wondered whether or not Cyana could feel them too.

"What's going on with you?" He asked Wonwoo as they walked outside for a quick lunch.

Wonwoo frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You've been following Cyana with your eyes like 24/7 ever since our Japan concert."

He could swear he saw Wonwoo blush. "I don't know what you're talking about, man." He denied, moving past him to open the door to the cafe.

Joshua shrugged. It really wasn't any of his business, and Wonwoo always had been a little weird about Cyana since the beginning. His lips quirked up into a tiny smile, enjoying this newfound side of his friend. It was hard to see Wonwoo as anything but calm and collected.

As they sat down to order, he watched from over the menu as Wonwoo scanned the options.

"Have you been here before?" Joshua asked, confused. Wonwoo was looking at the menu like he already knew what he wanted to order.

Wonwoo glanced up before returning his eyes to the menu. "What?" He mumbled. "No."

"How'd you even find this place anyways?" Joshua wondered out loud. "Must be really popular, if you said we needed to come here." Wonwoo had approached him with the idea of going to a cafe 15 minutes away and Joshua had gladly accepted.

Wonwoo shook his head. "It's actually pretty underground." He revealed. "It took me awhile to find."

Joshua frowned. His friend was giving him more questions than answers.

Before he could ask how Wonwoo even knew of the place, the server approached them with a pad of paper, ready to take their order. "Hello, what can I get for you?"

Wonwoo gestured at Joshua to go first. Reaching for his limited knowledge of Japanese, he pointed at the pastry that had caught his eye. "I'll have one of these, please. And a latte."

The waiter nodded, looking over at Wonwoo expectantly.

"I'll have one of these, please." Wonwoo pointed to something on the menu. He paused before speaking again. "And can I take this to go?"

The waiter glanced down at what he was pointing at and nodded. "Yes, I'll have it packed up for you."

"Thank you." Wonwoo nodded in thanks as the waiter left.

--

Joshua kept his questions to himself as they ate, all the while eyeing the takeout container the waiter had placed next to Wonwoo. He finally gave up as they exited the cafe, his curiosity peaking.

"What's in the box?"

Wonwoo looked down at the container he was holding onto, as if he himself hadn't realized he had it. "It's their takoyaki." He explained, shrugging. "Apparently it's the best or whatever."

A lightbulb ignited within Joshua's mind. He recalled a conversation he had overheard two nights ago, as he passed by Dino and Cyana's shared room.

"I think I'd murder someone for takoyaki right now." Cyana had mumbled out, eyes closed as she recalled the flavour. "There was this cafe I went to as a kid that served the best takoyaki. Ever."

Dino had laughed at her want. "Is it far?"

"I don't know." She groaned out, upset. "Don't remember the name. I just know they had like- wooden exterior and bamboo walls." Her nose scrunched as she recalled the memory. "Very traditional Japanese."

"No fucking way." Joshua stared at Wonwoo, his mouth gaped open.

The younger man frowned at him, raising a hand to push his glasses up. "What." He gave him an unamused expression.

"Is that," Joshua pointed at the box in his hands. "For Cyana?"

Wonwoo's cheeks turned red. "Maybe."

"Oh my goodness." Joshua couldn't help but laugh at how adorable the situation was. "You're pathetic, oh my god. Don't tell me you found the cafe just by her description of the exterior."

Wonwoo's face was ablaze as they continued walking. "I google mapped the thing," he mumbled, embarrassed. "clicked on every place that sold takoyaki and checked the exterior for bamboo and wood." He frowned when Joshua only laughed louder. "Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not-" Joshua wheezed out, slapping Wonwoo on the back. "Props to you, man. That's some dedication."

"Shut up."

THREE:

"Dino?" Cyana called out from their shared hotel room to the boy who was currently in the bathroom, brushing his teeth, getting ready for bed.

"Hm?"

She was staring at the box filled with takoyaki, still steaming and hot. "Did you go out and get takoyaki today?"

Dino popped his head out from the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth. "Nuh uh."

"Hm." Cyana frowned, wondering who had. Shrugging, the scent of the food overtook her curiosity as she sat down and took a bite. "Oh my god." Clasping her hands together as if in prayer, she couldn't help but shiver at the nostalgic taste. "The takoyaki gods have answered my prayers." She muttered through a mouthful.

Dino let out a snort from behind her, having finished getting ready for bed. "More like the takoyaki tooth fairy."

"I am so in love." She mumbled through another mouthful, moving the box away from Dino when he tried sneaking a bite. "You already brushed your teeth, bro."

"This isn't fair." Dino pouted, flopping onto the bed. "Everything you say has been coming true recently."

Cyana frowned, realizing he was right. Just yesterday, she had lingered in front of a store on their way to a interview. A purple and white notebook had caught her attention - perfect for storing her lyrics in. That same notebook had ended up on top of her suitcase later that night - no note, no receipt. Nobody had owned up to the act when she asked during breakfast the next day.

"From how I see it-" Dino was talking, breaking Cyana out of her thoughts. "One of us messed up- bad. And they're trying to get on your good side before you find out."

She gave him a look, taking another bite of her takoyaki. "Or~" She gave him a goofy grin. "It could be my fairy godmother. Finally showing up."

Dino snorted. "Childish."

FOUR:

They were halfway through their North American leg of the tour and Wonwoo could tell returning to LA had done something to the girl. She was no longer participating in their antics and hangouts after concerts - choosing to reside in her room instead. It resulted in Dino having to room with him and Jun, the younger boy moping around like a kicked puppy over losing his roommate.

"Something's very wrong with her." Dino muttered one night, having had enough of everyone pretending Cyana was okay.

"You're just saying that cause she asked to room alone for the rest of tour and you're pissed." Hoshi muttered back.

"No." Dino corrected quickly, getting up from his spot on the couch. "All she does is perform, practice, hide in her room, perform, practice, hide in her room." He listed. "It's like she's in a loop."

"Give her some time." Joshua sighed, and everyone turned to look at him.

"You know something." Dino pointed an accusatory finger at the older boy.

Joshua nodded. "I do. And it's nothing that concerns us. Cyana will share when she wants to share."

Dino huffed, clearly not liking being kept in the dark. "She's my twin, hyung."

Wonwoo could barely pinpoint the sadness in Joshua's eyes, but it was there. "I know. Give her time."

Wonwoo stood up, leaving the room without a word. Knocking quietly on their manager's door, he entered to see him working on his computer. "Can we get a day off?" He asked.

The manager blinked at the sudden request. "What do you want to do?"

"There's a bookstore close by, right?" Wonwoo remembered Vernon saying something about that. "Barnes and Nobles. Can we go?"

He knew it wasn't much, but Cyana had complained a long time ago that she missed having English books to read. He figured he couldn't do much to help the girl through whatever she was going through right now, but this- this he could do.

FIVE:

It was half-past four in the morning and Wonwoo was still awake. It was officially their last day on tour - tomorrow they'd be flying back to Korea. He couldn't tell whether that made him happy or sad. He was relieved though - hoping that maybe being back home would help heal everyone.

Their hotel floor was eerily quiet tonight as all the members had gone to sleep. He figured it was the crash that often came with tour ending - as if their bodies knew it was finally over and the adrenaline that kept them going washed away.

"Jun?" A tiny voice sounded from the entrance of his hotel room, making him flinch at the sudden sound.

He turned, spotting a bleary-eyed Cyana padding in, her feet bare.

"Jun's sleeping." He whispered, nodding towards the boy in question, who was sleeping soundly in bed.

He watched as her shoulders fell and she perched upon the table, her legs swinging gently above the floor. He watched her watch Jun sleep in silence.

It seemed like forever until Cyana spoke, finally raising her head to look at Wonwoo.

"Are you my fairy godmother?" She whispered, and Wonwoo felt as if she wasn't really all there. Her eyes seemed to look through him, as if she was trying too hard to look at him and failed.

He knew what she meant. He simply nodded, afraid that if he tried to say something, his words would betray him.

"Did you do something wrong?" She asked next, rubbing her sleepy eyes to look at him better. "Dino said whoever gave me those things probably did something wrong."

Wonwoo thought the question was very subjective. "Do you think I did something wrong?" He asked her instead, curious.

Cyana shook her head. "No."

"I thought I'd be nice for a change." He admitted. "I felt bad. And you were going through so much."

She didn't say anything, so he didn't say anything else either.

"Thank you." She whispered, after much silence.

Wonwoo could only nod. No need, he wanted to say. Or maybe As long as it helped you - through whatever it is that Joshua won't tell us. Whatever secret he's keeping for you. Whatever happened in LA. But he didn't say any of that- Cyana looked fragile enough.

"I like this."

Her voice shook him out of his thoughts as he looked back at her.

"The silence." She clarified. "You give nice silence."

His lips quirked at the creative way she had put it. He found she always had a strange way with words, but beautiful nonetheless. "Thank you." He didn't know what else to say.

Watching wordlessly as she walked over to Jun, sliding into bed next to him and curling herself up, Wonwoo moved to get ready for bed. By the time he returned, Jun had moved, as if his body could sense Cyana's presence and moved to compliment it - even while unconscious.

He pulled out his phone and took a picture, sending it to Jun for when the boy woke up. Settling into bed himself, he mulled over Cyana's words. You give nice silence. It made him happy just thinking about it. Silence was something he excelled at- and he always believed it to be a weakness. But if his silence was nice, and if it was something Cyana needed - perhaps it was a strength instead.

[bettelaboure]

⊹Tell Me To Stop⊹ | Choi Seung-Hyun

seventh part in series "Course in Chemistry"

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ Pairing: Choi Seung-Hyun x Reader

⊹ Warnings: sexual tension, explicit sexual content, embarrassment, mature language, peer pressure, and high school dynamics involving gossip and judgment

⊹ Summary: Y/N helps Seung-Hyun explore his sexual curiosity through an intimate and consensual encounter that begins with erotic media and leads to mutual physical exploration

⊹ Author's note: This one is a bit bit longer, full of shit show, so grab popcorn and let's go! we are nearly at the end

⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹ ⊹

"Urgh! I can't do this!" You threw your hands in the air and slammed them onto the floor, burying your face in your palms.

Jae-mi looked up from her bed to see you sprawled out on her bedroom floor, surrounded by textbooks and notes, clearly overwhelmed by the complexity of Present Continuous.

"Do what?" she asked, shutting her Spanish textbook, eyeing your frustration with a mix of concern and amusement.

"This." You gestured to the textbook in front of you. "It's all so..."

"Boring?"

"Complicated," you huffed, rubbing your hands over your face. "Why can't they just make it like a fun story or give step-by-step instructions that make sense?"

"Because it's a textbook, not a bestselling novel," Jae-mi teased as she joined you on the floor. She glanced at your notebook. "What's that?"

"A snowman eating its own nose," you muttered.

"Nice," she said dryly.

You groaned and slapped the book closed. Stupid book. Whoever created textbooks should be jailed for the mass destruction of teenage happiness.

"Are you and Choi Seung-Hyun seriously done?" Jae-mi asked, her voice softer now.

You rolled your eyes. "You say that like we were ever in a relationship."

"You kind of were," she said, shrugging.

You shot her a glare, and she lifted her hands in surrender. "Okay, more like in a weird tutor-student-situationship-friends-with-benefits vibe."

You chuckled, exhaling. "Please. Seung-Hyun and I were never friends." Were you? Did he think of you that way? You spent a lot of time together, after all.

"You did spend a lot of time with each other," she echoed your thoughts. "And you both saw each other in... personal ways."

Very personal. You gave him a hand-job and he saw you naked. That was hard to ignore.

"Look, all I'm saying is maybe you should talk to him. You clearly need him."

"I do not need him!" you snapped.

"Okay!" she backed off with raised hands. "But then how are you going to get your grades up?"

Good question.

"Maybe I'll drop out and become a stripper," you mumbled.

Jae-mi gave you a deadpan look. "You can’t even touch your toes. How would you do the splits on a pole?"

"I can learn!"

"You can also learn how English sentences work," she said, tapping the textbook.

You groaned again. Why was she always right?

Back in class, you were calculating how many minutes were left before you either escaped or hurled yourself out the window. Mrs. Arakaki had been glaring at you like you’d insulted her ancestors. Her constant nagging, condescending tone, and unfair callouts made it impossible to behave.

You’d once gotten a week’s detention for threatening to paint the classroom red because she wouldn’t let you go to the bathroom during your period.

"Y/N," she called, eyes narrowing. "今日はどうですか?"

Oh, for fuck's sake.

"今日は元気ですか?" Choi Seung-Hyun, seated behind you, gestured for you to respond.

"Are you on drugs?" you muttered. He raised a brow.

"Seriously?" he pressed. "How are you today, Y/N?"

What was he doing?

"Fine. I got shampoo in my eyes this morning, but I’m still alive."

He chuckled, leaning back.

"So... good? Say it. '良い.'"

"良い," you tried. He nodded encouragingly.

"So, 今日はどうですか?"

You smiled, something clicking.

"良い," you answered again.

The look on Mrs. Arakaki’s face dropped. You never responded in Japanese, and your tiny victory made you glow with pride. You wanted to rub it in her face.

You actually got something right.

Because of him.

Damn it. No, not because of him. You don’t need him. You told him that. And Y/N doesn’t go back on her word.

The cafeteria hadn't changed much since the Se-mi disaster. She hadn’t shown her face since, and neither had Jun-ho. Drama queen.

Jae-mi was deep in her history notes, preparing to destroy Young-bae in their next class.

"You know you’ll look back and wonder why you were so obsessed with beating some guy," you said lazily.

The glare she shot you could have killed.

"I will revel in it. He's Satan's twin, and I will vanquish him."

"Maybe you two should just have angry sex and get it over with."

Now the glare had grown murderous.

"That’s the most horrifying image I’ve ever imagined," she hissed.

Please. If only she knew.

"Suit yourself," you murmured, stabbing your salad.

Later, standing at your locker, you fixed your hair and tried to remember what had possessed you to make a deal with Choi Seung-Hyun. What were you thinking?

How could someone so disinterested in school thrive with a tutor like him? And how could you turn someone like him—a total newbie to sex—into anything remotely confident? The plan had been doomed from the start.

You turned around—and there he was.

Leaning against the wall, book in hand, he was staring at someone else.

Se-mi.

She came back to school.

With her blonde hair glowing in the light, flute case in hand, she looked like an angel. Everything you weren’t. Innocent. Sweet. Happy. She was the type of girl who looked like she erased the darkness from a room.

Kinder. More genuine. But with a biteful tongue.

You watched his eyes follow her like she was the only thing that existed. You wondered what he was thinking. Was it about her? About the date he had planned? About the books he read?

Was she the one he pictured?

When you kissed him, when you touched him, when he whispered beautiful against your skin—had he meant you?

Or had he meant her?

The question echoed in your mind, pounding like a second heartbeat.

You were so lost in it that you didn’t notice the jocks approach.

One of them slapped the book from his hands. Another shoved him.

"Weirdo," one sneered.

You clenched your fists.

You wanted to say something.

But before you could, the PA system crackled:

"CAN MISS KIM JAE-MI AND L/N Y/N PLEASE REPORT TO THE PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE. THANK YOU."

Silence.

Everyone turned to look—including Seung-Hyun, Se-mi, and the jocks.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

Oh god.

What now?

The last thing you expected to see in the Principal's office was Jae-mi sitting anxiously across from Mr. Park's desk.

Mr. Park always carried himself like he had a permanent stick lodged somewhere unfortunate. He wasn’t just strict—he was insufferably smug, and while you usually admired people who owned their power unapologetically, with him it was different. He was the kind of authority figure that made you want to rip your own ears off just so you wouldn’t have to listen to his self-righteous, monotone squawking.

"Y/N," he acknowledged dryly as you walked in. "Sit."

You didn’t protest. You weren’t even entirely sure why you were here, and antagonizing Mr. Park was only going to make it worse. You took the seat beside Jae-mi, whose face was pale and tight with worry. She wasn’t used to being summoned for anything less than praise.

"I’m sure you’re both aware of the diary pages that have been circulating around school," Mr. Park began.

Your eyes met Jae-mi’s. Shit.

"And I received a very concerned call from Dr. Kang regarding the vulgar invasion of his daughter’s privacy."

Here it comes.

"I have strong reason to believe you two are behind this," he continued.

"And what makes you think that?" you asked, arms crossed, tone defiant.

Mr. Park smirked with satisfaction as he rotated his monitor toward you both. "I’m so glad you asked. Vice Principal Seo installed new CCTV cameras around campus recently. A very wise move, it turns out."

Your jaw practically hit the floor. There you were on the screen—both you and Jae-mi—tossing printed copies of Se-mi’s diary into the air like flower petals at a wedding.

Well, shit.

"Do you have CCTV everywhere, Mr. Park? Even in storage closets? What’s next, hidden mics in the locker room?" you muttered under your breath, your sarcastic smile barely hiding your panic. Mr. Park had always shown a little too much leniency toward the football team, especially Jun-ho.

"I’d be careful with that tone, Y/N, unless you want your punishment doubled," he warned before turning to Jae-mi. "Miss Kim. I expected better from you. You can kiss “Best Student” award goodbye."

"Jae-mi didn’t do it!" you burst out. No way were you dragging her down with you. She had worked too hard for too long for this to be the reason her shot at that award was taken away.

"Y/N, it’s clear—"

"I made her do it!" you blurted. Jae-mi whipped her head toward you, eyes wide. "I thought if the perfect student was involved, I’d have a better shot at avoiding punishment. I told her I’d spread a rumor about her hooking up in the boys’ locker room if she didn’t help."

Mr. Kim's eyes narrowed as he turned to Jae-mi. "Is this true, Miss Kim?"

You kicked her ankle beneath the desk.

"Y-Yes, sir," she stammered, eyes downcast. You knew it killed her to lie.

Mr. Kim sighed dramatically, tapping his foot. "You may go, Miss Kim. I apologize for the trouble."

She glanced at you, conflicted, but you nodded, silently telling her it was okay. The moment the door shut, Mr. Kim locked his death glare on you.

"In all my years, I’ve never seen such a vile act of bullying—"

"Bullying? That’s a reach," you scoffed. If anything, Se-mi was the queen of emotional terrorism. She looked like angel, but she wasn’t a less bitch than you.

"You’ve humiliated that poor girl and tarnished this school’s reputation. And to blackmail another student? Frankly, I’m not surprised. You’ve been a handful since day one."

"You’re welcome," you muttered.

"So here’s your punishment. Luckily for you, both of Se-mi’s parents work at the hospital, and they’ve generously agreed to offer you community service there."

Your mouth fell open. "Community service? What do I look like, a criminal?!"

"It’ll look far better than suspension on your college applications. Which, I’ve heard, are not going too well."

Damn it, In-su.

"That’s none of your business," you grumbled, slumping back in your chair.

"Perhaps not. But I’d hope you take this as a chance to grow."

What was this, a sermon?

You didn’t have a witty comeback. Honestly, you didn’t want your parents hearing about this. Or anything else, for that matter.

When you were finally dismissed, Jae-mi was waiting outside, chewing on her lip.

"What happened?!" she whisper-shouted, dragging you into the corridor. "You shouldn’t have done that! I didn’t ask you to—"

"It’s fine," you reassured her, holding her by the shoulders. "I didn’t even get suspended."

"What?"

"Yeah, I got community service at the hospital instead. Apparently, Se-mi’s parents work there."

Jae-mi blinked. "Community service? What are you, an inmate?"

"That’s what I said! But hey, better than suspension."

"And it’ll look better on your college applications," she said pointedly.

"Don’t remind me," you muttered, eyes scanning the now-empty halls. "Where is everyone, anyway?"

"We missed last period. They’ve probably gone home."

Great. You finally started trying to do better in school, and Mr. Park decided the best way to reward you was to drag you back to rock bottom with a lecture and hospital labor.

Awesome.

"Hello again, Y/N."

"In-su," you reply, narrowing your eyes with spite.

You still can’t believe he snitched to Principal Park about your college situation. And being in the guidance counselor's office? Still feels like punishment.

"I'm sure you know why you're here."

There are so many reasons you could be here, you might as well reach into the grab bag of disaster and see what flavor of hell you’ve drawn today.

"You found the bag of crack in my locker?"

In-su’s eyes go wide, and you chuckle. "Relax. It was a joke."

"You shouldn’t joke about those things, Y/N," he says sternly.

"And you shouldn’t be spreading my private business to Principal Park," you fire back. Checkmate.

In-su sighs, folding his arms. "I have to put all your info on ProMonitor. Only me and Principal Park have access."

Great. That... actually makes sense.

You groan. "Then what do you want now?" If he’s gearing up for another inspirational speech, you're going straight through the nearest window.

"Mr. Kim reported that Choi Seung-Hyun is no longer tutoring you."

You blink. Huh. You figured Seung-Hyun would quietly ghost the tutoring agreement, not actually file it with the administration. Weirdly official. Weirdly painful.

"Yeah, so?"

"He told Mr. Kim you weren’t doing the work."

Snake.

"And?"

In-su leans forward, resting his forearms on the desk. "Y/N, right now it’s really looking like you're repeating the year."

"What?!" Panic shoots through your chest, even though you knew this was coming. You thought maybe you could wing it alone. "I can do this on my own!"

"Then let me ask you something." In-su adjusts his glasses—purely for aesthetic, you’re sure. "Tell me something in Japanese."

You squint at him. Is he serious?

"Um, what?"

"Say anything. In Japanese. Go ahead."

You wiggle uncomfortably in your seat. "Uh... 私の名前は—"

"Something complex, Y/N."

"Well, I don’t know anything complex!"

"Okay. Chemical symbol for gold?"

"Gd—"

"What form do muscles store glucose in?"

"Square—?"

"Two examples of collecting data?"

"Uhhh..."

"When did the World War II end?"

"1940...?"

In-su gives you a look. You sigh and throw your hands up. "I don’t know, okay?!"

He smiles like he’s just checkmated you in 3D chess.

"I’m gonna be real with you, Y/N."

"You always are," you mutter under your breath.

"I really don’t want you repeating a year," he says. You open your mouth, but he cuts you off. "Believe it or not, I want every student to succeed. But you? You're not even trying. No effort, no graduation."

You glare past him at the tacky motivational poster behind his head. "You don’t succeed," you say flatly.

"Exactly!" In-su beams.

Someone, somewhere, cue the funeral music.

"Now, I don’t know what happened between you and Seung-Hyun," he continues.

Clothes happened. That’s what. And Se-mi.

"But I suggest you talk it out and get back on track."

"Can’t I just get another tutor?" you groan.

"Choi Seung-Hyun is one of the best students here. Mr. Kim specifically matched him to you. His advice? Worth taking."

You snatch your bag. "You really enjoy making my life hell, don’t you?"

"At least I’m making a difference!" he chirps, giving you a thumbs-up as you storm out.

"Déjà vu," Jae-mi whispers beside you as you crouch behind the library shelves.

You know exactly what she means. It feels like forever ago that you cornered Seung-Hyun here and begged him to tutor you. Now here you are again.

"You got a game plan?" she asks.

Not exactly. You run through possible intros.

Hey Seung-Hyun, remember when I called you a dick and said no one would ever like you? Let’s be friends again, yeah?

No.

Hey, remember when you called me pathetic? Well, you were right.

Definitely not.

If you don’t tutor me, I’m going to jab my pencil through your eye socket.

Okay, dial it down.

"He’s moving!" Jae-mi hisses.

"What?"

Before you can react, she shoves you into the next aisle—right into Seung-Hyun’s path as he slides a book back onto the shelf.

You smooth your skirt, run your fingers through your hair. You got this.

You grab the closest book and approach him.

"Hey," you say sweetly. "Can you put this back for me?"

He turns, eyes as cold as steel, and brushes past you without a word.

Okay. You don’t got this.

Pull yourself together, Y/N.

You chase after him. "Look, Seung-Hyun, I know our last talk wasn’t exactly friendly, but I really think—"

He turns the corner, ignoring you.

"Hey!" You jog after him. "Seung-Hyun!" You catch a glimpse of Jae-mi peeking from behind a pillar with a helpless shrug.

"For God’s sake, I’m talking to you!" You grab his sleeve.

"What?!" he snaps, spinning around.

Whoa. Okay. Not expecting that.

"I need to talk to you," you say more softly.

He stares, annoyed. Waiting.

"I need you to tutor me again."

He lets out a low, bitter laugh. "Yeah, right."

You block his path. "Look, I know we’re not exactly best friends right now—"

"Understatement of the century."

"—But we both need something. So let’s make this easy. You keep helping me study, and I keep helping you... y’know. Sexy-sexy time? Deal?"

You flash your most hopeful smile.

He eyes you critically. You hold your ground.

"You really want to know what I think?" he asks.

You nod.

"I think you use people at your convenience."

"Excuse me—"

"You think I was desperate to have you back?"

"I’m not—"

"Face it, Y/N. Your whole life, people bend for you. But that’s not real. And I can’t trust you."

"Wait—what?"

"I can’t trust you, Y/N."

You scoff. "Are you kidding? I’m the most trustworthy person I kn—"

"The deal went both ways," he says, stepping closer. "I helped you with school. You helped me with sex. But I told you from the start—I needed you to meet me halfway. And you didn’t."

"I—"

"You did nothing. And that’s why this is all on you."

He pushes past you, leaving you stunned and speechless. Jae-mi rushes over.

"So...?"

"I’m fucked."

"Fucked metaphorically? Or—"

"Jae-mi."

"...Metaphorically. Got it." She stares down at her shoes.

You groan, kicking the bookshelf in frustration.

And to make it worse? That’s when you remember:

Your English essay is due tomorrow.

And it’s 11 p.m.

On a Wednesday.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," you mutter, tearing through your room in search of a pen.

Mr. Kim swore you'd fail the class if this essay didn’t land on his desk by morning.

And that is definitely not on your to-do list.

Your conversation with Choi Seung-Hyun still bubbled in your brain—and boiled your blood. What made it worse was the fact that he’d been right. You hadn’t even tried with the tutoring part of the deal. You’d agreed to help him with schoolwork, but instead, you let the whole thing turn into a crash course in sex education—and you’d completely ignored your end of the bargain otherwise.

Now, it showed.

You scrambled to find a pen and notebook, finally yanking them out from under your bed. Thank God. You threw yourself into your squeaky desk chair, wincing at the sound. You hated that damn thing, but it was better than sitting on your bed and inevitably wrapping yourself in layers of blankets like a burrito, only to fall asleep halfway through whatever you were meant to do.

Jae-mi, the absolute angel she was, had let you borrow her history notes a few days ago while you were "studying." You say "studying" because you’d actually spent that time doodling Santa hats on every historical figure you could find. Abraham Lincoln looked like Santa Claus on a juice cleanse, and it cracked you up.

Focus, Y/N.

What was this essay on again?

Oh, right—World War II.

Why the hell Mr. Kim wanted your essay on history? 

Half an hour passed, and you glanced down at your notebook only to find… not an essay. Nope. What you had was a passionately aggressive letter addressed to Anthony Marwood and Stephanie Callington, the sadistic authors of this torturous textbook. You were now referring to it exclusively as Satan’s Bible.

Okay, it wasn’t too extreme—just an “I hope your children suffer just as much as I have these last thirty minutes” and a casually slipped in “don’t be surprised if your houses get set on fire.” But hey, what could you do?

Twenty more minutes passed, and you were spiraling.

You have to actually have wits for them to end, Y/N.

If only textbooks weren’t so damn boring. Maybe if someone made them into cool TV shows—

"It’s a history website. They make documentaries in the style of American TV shows. The acting's a bit bad and questionable, but it's entertaining nonetheless."

Seung-Hyun's voice echoed in your brain like a mini divine intervention. You practically launched out of your chair and started digging through the laundry-pile disaster that was your floor, searching for your school bag. After throwing pencils and highlighters across the room in a frenzy, you finally found it.

“Bingo,” you whispered, then bolted back to your desk, turning on your computer and typing the website link from his neat handwriting into the browser.

It was a long shot, and it was late. Nearly midnight. Your eyelids were heavy, fingers sluggish as you typed D-Day into the search bar. You rubbed at your eyes and scrolled through until you found a video that looked like it covered the basics for your essay.

Then you hit play.

It was around nine when you woke up the next morning, your essay stuck to your face and your hair a complete disaster—a lopsided topknot that had somehow turned into a bird’s nest. If it hadn’t been for Jae-mi calling to complain about Young-bae stealing her parking spot (again), you wouldn’t have woken up at all.

You sprinted down the school hallways with your essay in hand, trying not to trip over your own feet from lack of sleep. You’d been up until 3 a.m. watching that documentary, and credit where credit's due—Seung-Hyun had been right. It was entertaining. You hadn’t written that much in your life.

Your English class had just emptied out as you ran up to the door.

You were definitely late, but at least you could still turn in the assignment.

“Mr. Kim!” you called, breathless, as you entered the classroom.

He didn’t even glance at you. “I’m not giving extensions on the essay, Y/N. You know the rules—”

“I have the essay!” you held it up triumphantly.

Mr. Kim turned slowly—either out of old age or total shock. “You’ve what?” he blinked.

“I’ve... I’ve done it,” you said, holding it out. He stared at the pages like they might disintegrate in his hands, flipping through them, holding them up to the light like a detective analyzing a forged check.

“These are three double-sided pages,” he muttered in disbelief.

“I know,” you replied. You’d earned every word on that paper.

He rubbed a wrinkled hand down his face and whispered, “Well, I’ll be...”

“Is—Is it okay?” your confidence faltered suddenly. “Did I do it wrong? Is it too much? What if—”

“No, no,” he waved his hand to cut you off. “It’s absolutely fine. I’ll get this marked and back to you by Monday.” He was still staring at your work, stunned.

“Oh... okay.” You chirped, spinning on your heel to head out.

You did it, Y/N. You actually did it.

You were so proud of yourself. The high from that moment carried you through the whole day. You told Jae-mi about your victory during lunch, and she’d looked just as surprised as Mr. Kim—but even more thrilled.

Well, she would have been more thrilled if she hadn’t gotten crushed by Young-bae again in that Physics pop quiz during first period. The look on her face—pure rage, tinged with betrayal—was legendary. You swore her hair was about to twist into little snakes and turn the whole gym to stone.

“This whole ego complex he has is driving me insane,” she muttered during stretches. “If I hear one more word about how he likes to fuck girls standing up because it gives him a ‘better angle,’ I’m shoving a pencil up his ass. That’ll give him a better angle.”

You choked back a laugh.

Honestly, you couldn’t wait for high school to end, mostly so this bizarre, eternal rivalry between Jae-mi and Young-bae could finally burn out. The girl spent so much time plotting his defeat—scribbling vicious little stick figures of him in her notebook, dreaming up creative insults like it was her sport.

Then again, no one got under her skin the way Young-bae did.

After last class, the two of you walked back through the halls, headed toward her locker, when a familiar 6’2" brunette stepped into view.

Seung-Hyun.

You wondered what he’d say if he knew you’d actually handed in your English essay.

He rejected you, remember?

Still... he'd be proud.

What’s the point of him being proud if he doesn’t even like you anymore?

But... he’d be proud.

“Hang on a sec,” you told Jae-mi, jogging ahead.

“Hey!” you chirped as you caught up to him.

Seung-Hyun glanced your way—and rolled his eyes before turning back to his locker.

“Guess what,” you tried again, bouncing slightly. You couldn’t help it. You were excited. You wanted him to be proud of you.

“I don’t have time for this, Y/N,” he grumbled, pulling books out and shoving them into his backpack.

“No, no! You want to hear this!” You waved your arms a bit, hoping he’d look at you.

Nothing.

So you rushed ahead anyway. “I—I handed in my English essay! Three pages. Double-sided!”

He slammed his locker shut, your smile faltering as the sound echoed.

“Cool. Whatever.” He sighed, slinging his backpack over his shoulder.

“But… I did the… I thought that... w-what?” You could barely form a sentence. The wind was knocked straight out of you.

“I’m really not interested, Y/N. See you.”

And with that, he turned and walked away—leaving you there like a complete idiot.

Jae-mi appeared at your side, wincing.

“That was harsh.”

You frowned, eyes glued to your shoes.

You just wanted him to be proud of you.

Before you stood a large, dimly lit room. The walls were raw brick, the floor polished black concrete. Scattered throughout the space were worn pieces of gym equipment: treadmills, bench presses, pull-up bars, elliptical trainers, rowing machines. Yoga mats were laid out across the floor, surrounded by tires, skipping ropes, and stacks of barbells.

A makeshift gym.

What the hell was Choi Seung-Hyun doing at a gym?

You knew about dance practices, singing lessons, even rap sessions, but gym?

The place wasn’t exactly crowded, but it wasn't empty either. There was a secretive air to it—as though only a certain few were in on it—and those who were treated it like any other gym. You realized instantly how out of place you looked in your heels and miniskirt, surrounded by people dripping in sweat and dressed in proper gym gear.

How the tables had turned. Now you were the outcast.

You walked in slowly, your arms wrapped around your books, eyes scanning the unfamiliar space. You flinched when a tall, broad man approached. He had a friendly, welcoming smile—and a burn scar tracing the side of his neck.

“Are you okay there?” he asked, his tone soft.

“I… erm… I’m looking for someone,” you said, trying not to sound awkward. You could practically hear your inner voice cringing.

“That’s okay,” he replied with a charming smile, folding his arms over his chest. “Who are you looking for?”

A flash of Seung-Hyun filled your mind. You blinked and looked at the man again—now picturing him in full military uniform.

“You’re Seung-Hyun’s dad,” you blurted.

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by how quickly you'd identified him, before his expression softened.

“Erm, yes. And you are?”

“Y/N.”

“Y/N…” he repeated, clearly thinking. Then recognition sparked in his eyes. “You’re the girl he’s been tutoring.”

“That’s me.” You smiled. So Seung-Hyun never told his dad he wasn’t tutoring you anymore?

Interesting.

“My wife’s mentioned you before,” the man continued. “She said you were a lovely girl.”

You found that strange. You’d only met Seung-Hyun’s mother once—or twice if you counted the jewelry store. Yet apparently, she had nice things to say. “You must be looking for Seung-Hyun,” he said, gesturing to the books in your arms.

You nodded quickly, and he smiled warmly.

“Come on, I think he’s down this way.”

You followed him across the gym, eyeing the equipment as you walked. Was this his dad’s place? You remembered hearing he’d left the military—it seemed likely.

“I’m Min-sang, by the way,” he added, offering his hand. You shook it.

“The owner of the gym,” he said with a grin.

Mystery solved.

At the back of the warehouse stood a boxing ring. Inside, a guy with dark brown skin was throwing powerful punches at training pads held by another man. Sweat slicked his sculpted chest as he ducked and weaved, nimble on his feet.

“Hey, Se-hoon!” Min-sang called out.

The guy stopped and looked over, eyes flicking briefly to you before refocusing on Min-sang.

“Any idea where my Se-hoon is?”

See-hoon removed his gloves and vaulted out of the ring in one smooth motion.

“No clue. He’ll probably be out soon.” He slung a towel over his shoulders, then turned his attention to you. “Who’s this?” he asked, eyes raking over you with a teasing glint.

“Y/N,” Min-sang answered. “The girl Seung-Hyun’s tutoring.”

Se-hoon smirked knowingly. “Y/N,” he said, his voice full of implication. “I know all about you.”

Heat rose to your cheeks.

“If you wait here, he’ll be out in a few minutes,” Min-sang added.

“Out from what?” you asked, still unsure what was going on.

Se-hoon sat beside you on the bench. “You’ll see,” he said with a grin.

You huffed and sat down, clinging to your books. You crossed your legs and rested your chin on your fist, bored out of your mind. Where the hell was Seung-Hyun?

Jae-mi was still waiting in the car—probably indulging in her latest obsession with all things BDSM. She likely didn’t want to be disturbed anytime soon.

Then you saw him.

A figure walked to the bench press, landing beside Min-sang. His back was to you, muscles flexing with every movement. Blue gym shorts clung to his thighs, and his brunette hair sparked instant recognition.

When he turned, your jaw nearly dropped to the center of the earth.

Choi Seung-Hyun.

And he had a goddamn six-pack.

“Don’t drool, sweetheart. Where are your manners?” Se-hoon teased.

You turned to him, eyes wide. He leaned back against the wall, sipping from a fancy sports bottle like this was no big deal.

Seung-Hyun didn’t notice you. He cracked his neck, and layed down on the bench. Min-sang stood behind him to spot. 

You couldn't tear your eyes away.

Your gaze roamed over every inch of him: every muscle, every ripple, every bead of sweat rolling down his chest.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “He’s got this.”

And he did. Every bench—he was in complete control. You’d never seen him like this. Gone was the shy, socially awkward boy. In his place stood a man full of confidence and primal strength. His biceps tensed with each bench, veins pulsing under flushed skin. 

It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

You stood slowly as Seung-Hyun got up from the bench. His chest heaved with exertion, his entire body glowing with sweat. He ran a hand through his damp hair. Your mouth went dry.

When he finally noticed you, he stopped cold.

His chest rose once.

Twice.

A third time.

“…Y/N?”

“Hey,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the fact you were actively trying not to melt on the spot.

“What… what are you doing here?” he asked, grabbing a towel from the bench and wiping his face.

“I needed to talk to you.”

He blinked, thrown off by your unexpected appearance. Then his eyes drifted down your body—your heels, bare thighs, miniskirt. The flicker in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Now?” he asked, a bit breathless.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice firmer.

He nodded, trying to regain his composure. “Okay… locker room’s this way.”

You followed him down a narrow hallway. The air was cooler back here, but you felt no relief—your skin was already burning. You passed a couple of closed doors before he pushed one open and motioned you inside.

It smelled of sweat and soap. Two rows of lockers lined the room, and a bench ran down the middle. A shower steamed in the corner, still running from someone who’d just left.

Seung-Hyun grabbed a clean towel and draped it over his shoulders, still shirtless, still gleaming. He turned to you, arms crossed.

“So… what did you want to talk about?”

You set your books down on the bench. “We need to clear some things up.”

“Okay…” he said slowly. “About what?”

You walked up to him. “About us.”

His brow furrowed. “There is no ‘us.’”

“Not yet,” you replied.

He blinked.

You didn’t give him time to respond. You reached out, fingertips grazing his chest. He stiffened but didn’t stop you.

“Y/N…” he warned.

You looked up into his eyes. “I saw the way you looked at me just now.”

He swallowed hard.

“I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“That’s because I usually have clothes on,” he said dryly.

You smirked. “You should take them off more often.”

“Y/N…” His voice dropped. “Don’t play games with me.”

“I’m not playing.”

“You’re not thinking straight.”

“No,” you said, stepping closer, “I’m thinking very clearly.”

You reached for the waistband of his shorts, fingers brushing the skin just above them.

He grabbed your wrist. “Don’t.”

You met his eyes. “Why not?”

“Because I won’t be able to stop.”

You tilted your head. “Good.”

He stared at you like you’d just punched him.

Then he kissed you.

Hard.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against his body as his mouth claimed yours. There was no hesitation, no gentleness—only hunger. He backed you into the lockers, lifting you slightly until your feet left the ground.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he pressed you against the cool metal, his lips moving down your neck, nipping at your collarbone.

“Tell me to stop,” he growled against your skin.

You tugged at his hair. “Don’t you dare.”

He kissed you again—hot, desperate, consuming—while your hands explored every inch of his back, every line of muscle.

Your hand slips to his waistband, fingers brushing the heat beneath as he helps you strip him down. His cock springs free—hard, heavy, and flushed—and your mouth waters at the sight of it. You wrap your hand around the base, stroking slowly, deliberately, watching his jaw clench as he leans back against the lockers for support.

Then you sink to your knees.

The tile is cold, but you hardly notice. You start with a kiss—just a soft press to the head, tasting the salty bead of precum there. He groans low in his throat, and you feel his fingers thread through your hair. Encouragement. Control. Both.

You take him deeper, inch by inch, letting your lips stretch and your throat relax around him. His breath stutters as you hollow your cheeks and start to bob your head in rhythm. Each glide down brings a new curse from his lips. Each flick of your tongue along the underside has him twitching in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he whispers, one hand gripping the edge of the locker behind him, the other tightening in your hair. “You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up.”

You hum in response—deliberate—and the vibration makes him jerk against your tongue. But you don’t stop. You suck harder, deeper, your pace unrelenting until you feel him throb fully in your mouth. That’s when you pull back, slowly, lips slick, a thin strand of saliva still connecting you to him.

He looks wrecked. Eyes dark, chest rising in ragged breaths, cock still rigid and glistening from your mouth.

Then it’s his turn.

He pulls you to your feet and back to the bench, his hands firm on your hips as he lays you down again. You feel the cool press of the wood under your back, the air sharp against your flushed skin as he peels your underwear away. His fingers spread you open, slow and reverent, and the first touch of his tongue is light—almost teasing.

You whimper.

He flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, then circles there, soft at first. Then firmer. Deeper. Your thighs twitch around his head, but he holds you steady, arms locked around your thighs to keep you open for him. Every motion is focused, deliberate—like he’s memorizing the way you taste, the way your body arches at just the right angle when he suckles your clit hard.

Your hands find his hair, fingers digging in, hips lifting to chase every wave of pleasure as he devours you like he’s starving.

And when two fingers slide inside you—curling just right—you know you're not going to last long.

Your back arches off the bench as his fingers move inside you—slow at first, then curling, pressing just right against that spot that makes your whole body clench. His tongue never lets up on your clit, flicking in firm, deliberate strokes that sync with the rhythm of his hand.

Every nerve in your body feels like it’s lit from within.

“Seung-Hyun,” you gasp, your voice shaking.

He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your core. You buck against his mouth, helpless to the pace he sets. One of your hands clutches the bench for something—anything—to ground you, while the other stays tangled in his hair, tugging without realizing it.

You can feel it—tight, building, inevitable. That climax, thick and molten, coils deep in your belly, and the way he’s fucking you with his fingers while sucking your clit with that unrelenting pressure pushes you to the edge. Closer. Closer.

Your thighs try to close around his head as the tension snaps.

You come with a sharp cry, back bowing, thighs trembling, hips jerking up into his face. He doesn’t stop—not until you’re whimpering from the aftershocks, from the way your body shudders beneath his tongue.

Only then does he slow down, lips soft now, trailing kisses across your inner thighs as you come down from it all—panting, ruined, bliss-drunk.

He rises between your legs again, mouth slick with your arousal, and leans over you. His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded, but there's the faintest, teasing smirk on his face.

“Taste yourself,” he murmurs, and kisses you deep—wet, filthy, perfect.

Taglist: @petersasteria @redhoodedtoad @mirahyun @sherrayyyyy @sherxoo @dilfismz @breakmeoff @janie-osuih @forevervibezzzz1 @kuinnoa @juliskopf @maskedcrawford @szonyix6277@ldydeath

Series taglist: @1950schick @zaaraaax0 @tabibabib @sofiaaaah @pepsicolapussi

[starcurtain]

hi! totally agree with your take on the english voice over for mydei sounding overly aggressive… i play on chinese too and i feel this sort of thing actually happens to a fair few characters in hoyo games. off the top of my head i think ratio’s english dub also makes him sound irritable all the time, though my perception of ratio may have been influenced by the cn voiceover. it’s interesting how each language gives the character a slightly different feeling, which i think affects how the fandom perceives them.

The semester has finally ended, so I am really going to try to clear out some messages so I can finally reopen my inbox!!

Yes--this is something that happens kind of across the board with video games, but I think the English voice direction for Genshin and Star Rail in particular have had some... maybe the best word is "misreads" on characters. Dr. Ratio, Neuvillette, Mydei... To me, it seems there's a particular trend with male characters in the English dub to add "aggression" or "power" by making the character come across as colder, harsher, etc. The voice actors are following the instructions of the voice directors, who seem to be telling them things like "Your character in a very powerful fighter!" or "Your character is a stuck-up genius," and leading them to particular emotional tones based on that, indicating a limited awareness of the plot or role of the specific characters.

I think this might be a by-product of voice studios being used to certain trends that actually don't occur in as often in gacha games?

If a company is used to recording for other genres of video games, then yes, the male characters probably are supposed to be macho warrior-types! They probably are the type to going roaring in, guns akimbo. Outside of otome and gacha genres, a lot of video games are action/adventure with hard-core combat as their focus.

Basically, it seems to me that there's an element of "trying to anticipate the audience" when it comes to voice directing. If the character being voiced is a) male, b) tall, and c) a fighter, who is the target audience of that character? As gacha games' primary playerbases are still majority male, voice directors may be playing it safe by assuming the male character should appeal to male players through projections of "strength" and "manly dominance." Dudes must want a badass male character to project themselves on to, right?

Seems legit, let's make the men sound more aggressive.

Voice directors who have more experience specifically with the gacha genre probably "nail" their directing calls far more often, because the gacha genre is different. Men in gacha games (at least in Hoyo gacha games) aren't designed for male players--they're designed for female players, and softer and warmer men's voices fare significantly better.

I actually think that in most cases, HSR's English voiceover did this well. Jing Yuan, Welt, Boothill, and even Blade all have very pleasant and fitting English voices to listen to, for example. The voice actress voicing Yanqing has insane range; my hat goes off to her. Allegra Clark is hands down the best Acheron voice by a mile, easily beating out the original Chinese or Japanese (in my opinion). HSR's voice cast also has a disproportionately high number of queer voice actors, which I think helps to avert some of the stereotypical "grrrr I am manly video game man" and "tee hee I am cutesy video game girl" that voice casts can fall into.

It's just every once in a while that the English voice direction misses the mark, and unfortunately, Mydei is definitely one of those situations for me. Not his voice actor--Gabriel Warburton sounds great in moments where he delivers Mydei's lines in his more natural register and especially when delivering lines softly--but the voice direction that clearly pushed him to try to growl out half the lines. Sigh.

One thing I do have to say in favor of the English voiceover, though, is that I think the English casting takes a lot more "risks" than the Chinese and Japanese dubs. Chinese dub (the language I play in currently) sounds like everyone in the cast is a beautiful young lad or lady. 😂 Basically, they sound like a cast of celebrities and idols, if that makes sense lol. Even characters who have no reason to sound that way come across as young, sexy people; Chinese Gallagher I am looking at you. The voices are meant to all be appealing, and so, to a certain extent, there isn't as much variety to them. I love Japanese dubs, but they also have a tendency to book the same famous VAs over and over, so every other voice starts to sound familiar lolol; Daisuke Ono, I am looking at you.

Meanwhile, I think the English voiceover, at least for Star Rail and Genshin, puts less emphasis on the voice as a tool for marketing characters, and as such, there's a little less pressure to book the most stereotypically appealing voices for everyone. English Mr. Reca, for example, sounds quite different in comparison to other languages. The choice to give English Alhaitham a voice that isn't deep sure was a real one lol. Even if I don't think every voice actor in the English dub is great (I love, love Ben Balmaceda for Kaveh but I think he's not the right fit for Moze, for example), I really do appreciate the choice to give characters voices that have a ton of personality and dare to be outside the realm of conventionally "good sounding," sexy, or sophisticated.

Honestly, I really wish Hoyo could find a way to give us the option to pick a voice over by character. I need Phainon in English talking to a Mydei who is speaking Chinese, ASAP. 😂

[numberoneredriotfan]

Funny Rodydeku idea- so, Rody doesn't necessarily understand Japanese customs or etiquette. He's done some research but still, there's a lot he doesn't know. One of these things being that people in Japan typically refer to each other by their last names, and that referring to someone by their first name is more of an intimate thing. I just don't think he really made that connection lol. Like, Deku, knowing a bit more about other national customs knew that calling someone by their first name was normal, thus why he refers to Rody as Rody (I also see Deku being fluent in English cause I headcanon his dad as american-).

So, Rody doesn't really call Deku by his actual name at all. It's either Deku, Hero, or mass murderer on some occasions (just to piss off Deku tbh). Making that realization, he decided that he should try calling Deku by his actual name, just to see how he would react! So next time they called each other, after a few minutes of talking, Rody drops the "So, Izuku, how has everything with UA been?" You know, super casually, see if he even notices.

Cue a long bout of silence. And suddenly, Rody's wondering if he fucked up. Did he get his name wrong?? Did he pronounce it wrong??

Then, Deku speaks up in a very flustered and sheepish voice, "You...just called me by my first name..." Rody, dumbfounded at this point, replies "Yeah? I don't know- I just realized I only ever refer to you as Deku so I wanted to give it a try."

Another bout of silence, till Deku calms his beating heart and clears his throat.

"Well, uh, Rody...you probably don't know this, but referring to someone by their first name here is...a bit...of a personal thing...like, normally we only call our family or really close friends by their first name. Or you know...in the case that we're in a relationship..."

Rody took a moment to process what Deku was implying, before the embarrassment washed over him. "Y-You don't say!" He sputtered, Pino now hiding his hair and covering her blush with her wings.

"Not that I mind you calling me by my first name, because I do think we're really good friends but it did kind of take me off guard!! You can keep calling me Izuku if you want!!"

"I think I'll stick to Deku, actually, thanks..."

Though Deku was slightly disappointed, he couldn't help but think about for the next few days how nice his own name sounded on Rody's tongue. Meanwhile, Rody wanted to bury himself as always whenever he managed to embarrass himself in front of Deku.

[literary-illuminati]

2025 Book Review #26 – If On A Winter’s Night a Traveller by Italo Calvino

My mother recently started doing some severe post-retirement cleaning and reorganization of her home, which included what was somewhere between an invitation and an ultimatum to go sifting through all the books laying around the house to grab any I might want before 90% of them were disposed of. This provided an excellent chance to get my hands on a bunch of 20th century literature I had vaguely heard of before but didn’t actually know a thing about. Thus, If On a Winter’s Night a Traveller, a blisteringly clever and playful novel that is almost but not quite clever enough to last 260 pages before becoming truly insufferable.

The book is the story of a reader sitting down to enjoy the then newly-published If On a Winter’s Night a Travellerby Italo Calvino. Tragically, only a chapter into the book he discovers that there has been some horrible misprint, and every second page in the rest of the book is totally blank. Returning to the bookstore the following day to get an undamaged copy, he finds himself falling ever further into a farce, each attempt to read more of the last book he opened instead revealing itself to be the first chapter of an entirely different story. Pulled along by chance, circumstance, and a magnetic attraction to the similarly curious reader Ludmilla, he become impossibly entrapped in a bizarre conspiracy of counterfeiters, censors and false translations all engaged in vast esoteric contests over the true significance of reading, authorship, and truth.

So leaving the plot, characters and philosophizing aside for the moment (for better and worse), the most interesting and enjoyable thing about the book by far is the formal experimentation. Each of the different stories the protagonist reads the first chapter of is relayed(either paraphrased in great detail or entirely written out) in a very distinct voice and style than either the main narrative or any of the others. This could easily have been absolutely intolerable (and was beginning to wear out its welcome by the time we got to ‘1970s Italian guy writes pastiche of Japanese literature”), but on the whole I found it an absolute delight. It was overwhelmingly an excuse for Calvino to play around and show off, of course, but he is one of the vanishingly rare authors who can actually pull something like this off.

I was left wishing I either had far more context for the contemporary literary scene Calvino was responding to, or just that I was reading one of those later editions with an introduction by some English professor that spoils the entire plot before you start the book but also explains every reference made at length. I am nearly certain that at least some of the different vignettes were riffing on particular works or trends and that I’d have enjoyed the book more if I’d been familiar with them.

The actual plot I honestly found less endearing. Or better to say, I was enjoying it thoroughly when it was a more grounded farce of a basically average reading enthusiast nursing an intense infatuation with a woman he ran into at the book store and accidentally starting new stories in more and more improbable ways. It got a bit less enjoyable when the framing device plot itself because just as exaggerated and obviously trope-driven as any of the stories, centring around a globally infamous false translator and fraudster who fills the world with false and insincere stories for the sake of getting back at his lost love (the woman the narrator had quite coincidentally become infatuated with). Though I suppose that’s just a preference on my part for the framing device to be more mundane than the fictional excerpts – and in any event the more grounded comedy was usually funnier than the Austin Powers-esque farce it ended up at.

Some allowances have to be made for this being written 50 years ago. But also, oof does the writing of women in this feel like genre fiction written 50 years ago. No screeds or anything, but when the story stops to lampshade and poke fun at itself for every single female character (in both framing narrative and pieces of fiction) seemingly existing mostly to sleep with the protagonist, the bit of self-awareness ruins all possible charity I might feel towards the text. The most significant woman in the book by some margin is Ludmilla – ostensibly positioned for a bit as the book’s deuteragonist, quickly left behind afterwards and only really of significance to the plot insofar as all these different men are obsessed with her.

Speaking of being written 50 years ago – truthfully I did not realize that ‘postmodernism’ as a movement was quite so old. Always thought of it as more of a ‘90s thing than a ‘70s one. But there’s really no possible other way to describe this book. It’s somewhat amusing how the portrayal of academic life could be inserted into a work published any time up to today without raising anyone’s eyebrows, though.

This is fundamentally (and very explicitly) a book about books – about writing and reading, really, the relationship between author and audience and the nature of truth in literature. As a rule, I find this sort of thing insufferably masturbatory and self-congratulatory, but Calvino really does almost pull it off. An impressive feat which is basically entirely down to the quality of the prose and the translation. It really is very beautiful at points, and legitimately funny at others. Not, I think, enough to really sustain it for the entire length of the book, but it comes quite close.

I can’t say I recommend this without reservations, but it was certainly an interesting and fascinating read. If you suffer some fundamental damage like I do and get a consistent kinks of reading authors imitating dramatically different styles and voices n the same work. Just be prepared to roll your eyes a bit.

[yuurei20]

Hello!

Bit of a dumb question

I wanted to know if it was ever mentioned anywhere that Jade ate his siblings.. My sister keeps saying he said that he ate everyone but kept Floyd bc he looked like he'd be funny or something. I've never seen this mentioned before and I wanna prove her wrong

Hello hello!! ^^ Thank you for this question!

“Jade ate his siblings” is one of many unproven fan theories, based on a number of comments in the game that might be hints about something that may or may not have happened!

The theory goes that Jade and Floyd hatched from eggs (moray eels can lay up to 10,000 eggs at once in real life, though in-game is unspecified) at approximately the same time.

Jade then selected Floyd as the one sibling he would spare, and ate the rest. (The reason why he chose Floyd is technically not specified.)

This is based on many things that can be found throughout the game, such as this cryptic comment from Jade: “I’m glad I chose you as my partner when we were but little elvers.”

Floyd responds, “Not sure what that smile’s for, but I’m glad we survived together, too,” which may insinuate that if something did happen, Floyd might not know what it was.

Jade also says, “there are five in my family at present.” One interpretation of this line is that their family used to be larger, and might get even smaller in the future, but five is where they are at now. 

The more optimistic side of EN fandom will sometimes theorize that maybe their mother is pregnant and there will actually be a new addition to the family soon rather than a loss, but we have been given a surprising amount of information about how common it is for people to go missing in the Coral Sea, with otherwise zero hints that they will soon be getting between 1 and 10,000 new siblings.

The evidence used for the “hatched from eggs” part of the theory comes from Floyd insisting that neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This might seem vague in English, where which twin of two was technically born first might not come up very often, but in Japanese one twin being born first would mean that one of them would refer to the other as something like “nii-san,” like Ortho does with Idia, or "aniki," as Ace does with his brother and Leona does with Falena.

(For a real-world example I recommend referring to the Twitter account of Jamil’s voice actor, Futaba Kaname. He has (弟) in his username for “little brother,” while his identical twin Yuu has (兄) in his username for “older brother.”)

But neither Jade nor Floyd refer to one another as “nii-san," "aniki" or anything but their first names.

While “bro” or “brother” will sometimes be added to their dialogue on EN neither twin has ever actually called the other “brother” in their original dialogue, because the Japanese language makes you specify older or younger (an age-neutral word for “brother” doesn’t really exist) and, as Floyd says outright in the game, neither he nor Jade are any older or younger than the other.

This makes sense if they both hatched from eggs at approximately the same time, rather than being born like mammals.

Another point that is often referenced in the “Jade and Floyd: Dead Siblings” topic is how, on the subject of ghosts they have seen, both twins mention seeing people on Halloween that looked strikingly like each other, only to realize that they weren’t. 

Floyd: “I once thought I saw Jade in three different places at once.”

The theory goes that they saw the ghosts of their dead siblings.

This may or may not be considered evidence of how the twins might have had other siblings at one point and something happened to them, but even if so, it could have just been a Finding-Nemo style incident with a barracuda or something similar.

So why do people point to Jade as the perpetrator?

(Maybe irrelevant, but Rook’s nickname for Jade in the original game is, “Monsieur Premeditated Crime.”)

Jade is a heavy eater, on par with Sebek (another thing they have in common is they have both threatened to eat Grim), saying that people are often surprised by how much he eats.

Jade says this is because his “fuel efficiency is lacking” (low blood pressure?).

Floyd is aware of this and seems to go to extra lengths to make sure Jade eats properly, encouraging him to relax and fetching food for him during Halloween.

The original meaning of Jade’s unique magic is, “the tooth that takes out a bite,” so this is definitely a theme with him.

And his official, disliked food? Eel.

To the original question: no, there is not a definitive line in the game that states “Jade ate his siblings” that we can point to as proof that it actually, canonically happened.

But we do have many cryptic lines that might possibly be insinuating that a infamously hungry Jade chose Floyd as the one sibling he would spare and ate the rest, Floyd may not know it happened, and Jade might be actively choosing not to tell him 🐬

[doctorbunny]

More serious summary of the livestream

Unfortunately I can't provide a full translation because the entire time I was watching in autistic excitement like 😊🥰🤩 whilst my brain melted out my ears and didn't pick up on a lot

Luckily, I have a feeling someone will get around to translating this stream eventually since they finally had the BGM on a lower volume so everyone was audible the whole time Without further ado:

We started with introductions seating order is Yamanaka, Yurina (Es' VA), Minami (Amane's VA), Ryouta (Kazui's VA) and DECO (who dyed his hair blonde) They each have one of the 4th anniversary acrylic stands in front of them The actors have their characters but Yamanaka has Haruka and DECO has Muu

Yamanaka admitted to being a Haruka oshi/fan

Then Minami talks about being a Fuuta fan (she calls him cool) and she's handed the Fuuta stand and she pushes the Fuuta and Amane stand next to each other (and jokes about their height difference then imitates Fuuta going zenbu zenbu zenbu!)

But then Yurina sticks her Es stand in between them to separate them

And then they move the Amane stand next to the Kazui one and everyone coos

Before moving Amane and Fuuta back together in front of Minami Then they basically just lift all of the stands up on to the table and continue on

They discuss their thoughts on the trial

Looking at who got voted inno and guilty Minami is happy Amane got inno but has no idea how Mikoto wasn't guilty They note that the audience wasn't very happy with Kotoko for beating up the other prisoners Then they give some thoughts on the MVs from Daisuki to Deep cover They get most excited talking about Cat and Purge March Kazui says that he was able to put the right emotions into Cat because he recorded the voice drama first Yurina and Minami actually caused the microphone to peak with their excited shrieks at one point (ow)

They answer some audience submitted questions One question was answered along the lines of "Be prepared" One was submitted in English and they tried to but couldn't read it Then they got a question (in Japanese) from someone from 韓国/South Korea [side note: I feel like the south korean milgram fandom has gotten more prominent recently, its always been there but it feels bigger than ever and that's pretty cool]

After audience questions they made a few announcements Some things we already knew, the gratte cafe crossover, the Kotoko line stickers, Earbuds are still on sale (and they're making badges and stuff based on the earbud promo art) the 4th anniversary art/acrylici stands literally in front of them Then some new things: Minigram LINE stamps (everyone was especially pleased for the Kazui XP stamp) There's going to be a part 2 to the Karaoke collab (no details yet other than its coming)

They also announce this year's perk for annual members [the pain of being an annual member but living outside of Japan so you can't get these 😭] Blank lamenated cards of the prisoner's interrogations and a whiteboard pen so you can write your own interro questions and answers They bring out the cards for Kazui and Amane and do some examples

"Do you like cake?" "I don't eat it."

"What did you have for lunch today?" "Gyudon." [a beef and rice dish]

Then Minami just writes "Toilet paper" in katakana and everyone laughs (Then she writes Toilet paper rap/lap/wrap and I'm not sure what she means)

Most exciting is script books for the Hallucenation liveshow (scripts of the voice dramas and songs) The live show uses condensed versions of the voice dramas but this is the first time we'll have official transcripts of key moments to help check translations with

Then they start saying that T2 was hellish, but T3 is going to go beyond hell: They're going to send everyone to Super Hell And at this point my brain fries and overloads on eeby deeby memes as they all go back and forth talking about Super Hell

They all start doing their outros/saying goodbye

Yurina talks about upcoming challenges we have as guards meanwhile Yamanaka ominously holds the Haruka stand up in frame

Then that's basically it, not much going on because a lot of stuff (like Hallucenation, the plushes, earbuds) came out right before the 4th anniversary

[entertext]

HGSN 33-2

Chapter (Japanese)

(Please hit the green thumbs up at the end of the Japanese chapter to show support)

Rough translation by me

P1

Asako: The hamster's scared...

Tanaka: Ah... She's very sensitive, so this place must be rough for her...

(sfx: rattle)

P2

(sfx: whoosh)

(sfx: thwack!)

(sfx: thwack!)

(sfx: thwack!)

(sfx: thwack!)

Asako: What's that?

Tanaka: A barrier. It's only for our peace of mind though

P2

Tanaka: What we are going to do now is negotiate with the impurity in this house to close the hole for us

Tanaka: The original resident of this house seemed to have...enshrined something here. So it should still be inside.

Asako: If we negotiate, will it actually close the hole for us?

(sfx: stick)

Asako: Ah! Whoa! What's that?

P4

Tanaka: A threat towards the impurity

Asako: A threat...

Tanaka: Well, I'm sure it won't go easily. This isn't an exorcism, it's only an equal trade.

Tanaka: Since you're here, we can communicate. That'll make things a bit easier

Tanaka: Our voices will reach the impurities, so all you have to do is interpret what the impurity is saying

(sfx: nod nod)

P5

Asako: Um...Mister, are you always doing such dangerous stuff? You aren't a medium or anything, right?

Asako: Then, who exactly are you...?

Tanaka: Mm...I wonder...

Tanaka: The employee of an exploitative company,...I guess... Hahaha

Asako: Wah...

P6

(sfx: taiko drums)

(sfx: rushing water)

--

P7

Maki: Gn...Ah...

Yoshiki: Maki!!

Maki: Huh?

Rie: Are you alright!?

-

Maki: What? I'm still in danger?

Maki: And I took cleaning the shrine seriously too!

Rie: Maki-kun, listen carefully.

P8

Rie: We're going to do something about the origin of the "legs", but when that happens, Maki-kun, you might be pulled towards it too.

Rie: I'll protect you, but be prepared.

Hikaru: Me and him are gonna do something about the source, so all you have to do is last through the night

Maki: You guys are talking like psychics or something all of a sudden...and it feels like something about you guys has changed? ...well, no matter

Maki: I'll give you this

P9

Hikaru: Oh, good

Maki: It's an amulet from my grandpa.

Yoshiki: A white rope?

Maki: It's made with the rare fur of a serow

Maki: Apparently if you have it, the serow will come help you out. Just in case, I've been carrying it around everyday.

Yoshiki: Is it really okay? To borrow something that seems so important...

Maki: I mean, this is about all I can actually do, you know? (haha)

Maki: And I just had the weirdest dream...I've got a bad feeling about this.

==

Extra (link):

Q. Aren't there a lot of people who can sense spirits in this area?

A. It's because spiritual senses are inherited.

It's possible that the people who can sense spirits in this area are all descended from the same ancestor.

Hikaru: Huh! Is that also the reason there's so many people with naturally curly hair?

When it's the impurity that's making contact, ordinary people like Yoshiki will also see them.

==

T/N: The text of the talisman on Asako's head seems to be a "counter-sorcery" incantation from a Chinese Buddhist text called the Foshuo zhoumei jing (佛説咒魅經).

Unfortunately, I couldn't really find any accessible English translation or much more info on it online, so I'll just leave it at that.

[haru-dipthong]

Ep 8 of my Utena fansub is out!

生意気でブサイクで男女の天上をめっためたに打倒して

“I’ll rip apart that annoying ugly dyke

男女 is a hard word to translate. It’s basically a slur - the word is made up of the kanji for “man” and then the kanji for “woman” (so, “manwoman”). I’ve seen “shemale” used as a translation but the transness of that word is a bit strong. I’ve also seen “tomboy” but that’s not a slur, it’s barely even an insult (and it’s not trans-y enough). Anya suggested to use “dyke” if I was comfortable with it, and I am. I think it’s perfect honestly.

-----

私のお兄様があんた達にちょっかいを出すはずないでしょ？

My big brother would never be so interested in you.

ちょっかいを出す has two meanings according to the Japanese dictionary weblio.jp. 1. to interfere with in a negative way by doing something that really shouldn’t be done. 2. to hit on a woman.

Obviously both meanings are important here. Nanami is obsessed with being the only girl her brother thinks about, and Touga is sexually interested in Utena and politically interested in marrying Anthy. I see this line as intentionally ambiguous, maybe even a bit of a freudian slip. I think I captured that ambiguity with “interested in you” - it could mean sexually/romantically interested, or it could mean interested in the sense of just like, living in someone’s head rent free like Anthy and Utena do in Nanami’s head.

-----

辛さ爆発木っ端みじん、幻のゾウが「パオーン」、超辛九千億倍カレー

“Spice So Extreme You’ll be Blown to Smithereens and Hallucinate a Horde of Trumpeting Elephants: 900 Billion x Curry.”

I HAVE A FEW THINGS TO SAY about this extremely stupid joke line.

Thing number 1: the way she says 「幻のゾウがパオーン」 in such a sad, sad voice made me cackle the first time I heard it. I’m not funny enough to translate the joke properly but suffice it to say, she’s essentially saying “ghost cows go moo” (but for elephants) in the saddest most apologetic tone possible and it kills me. In English elephants don’t really have a childish onomatopoeic noise word like “moo” so I had to settle for “trumpeting”.

I think the 幻のゾウがパオーン line is a really interesting example of coherent Japanese grammar. Like, if we translate the whole line literally, look at how weird it sounds:

Explode into smithereens, illusory elephants go “paōōōn” level spice: Extreme spice 900 Billion x Curry.

Like, the elephant part is literally just describing what noise an “illusory elephant” makes. Under English language rules, this is a non-sequitur, but in Japanese it makes sense and fits into the sentence because the implication that the spice makes the “illusory elephants” appear is enough. You don’t need to say the spice makes it appear!

Thing number 2: This is the only time in the episode we hear the full name of the 900 Billion x curry, and it’s important as a translator that I lay the groundwork for the interpretation that the elephants the girls encounter for the rest of the episode are hallucinations. I actually find it really weird that no other translation calls the elephants “hallucinations” or the spice “hallucinogenic”, because that’s the translation that makes the most sense for 幻 within this context IMO. 幻 can be translated as “illusion”, “phantom”, “vision”, and it essentially means “something you’re seeing that isn’t actually there”. Let’s look at some other translations:

So hot it will blast you to smithereens and make phantom elephants trumpet loudly (from ohtori.nu)

So spicy it’ll blow you to smithereens! Secret Pa-Ohn ultra spicy nine billion-fold curry. ←????????!!! (from internet archive video encoded subs)

and then a later line where they’re talking about the spice itself:

By the way, have you heard of the Phantom 900 Billion X spice? (from ohtori.nu)

By the way, do you know about the nine billion-fold secret spice? (from internet archive video encoded subs)

Like… what? The spice is clearly meant to be hallucinogenic. And don’t get me started on the internet archive video subs! Just totally opting out of translating it completely and going with “secret”! So boring and such a cop out. My only guess as to why these have been done like this is an attempt at censorship? Cause hallucinations = drugs? Well, I’m not pulling punches on my translation! I’m writing them the way I interpret the Japanese - if that includes swearing, sexual references, or drugs, so be it. The goal is to make the most authentic translation, not one that will actually be marketable to TV or streaming networks.

Speaking of…

This is the most egregious translation from the ohtori.nu scripts yet. They translated 色ボケ (a person, often an immature man/boy, obsessed with sex; vulgar, insult) as, get this, "Casanova".

Does this look like a man who has just been called "casanova" by his crush?

"Fuckboy" was my first pick but I would also have accepted "wanker", "jerkoff", "sleezebag", "douchebag", "fuckwit", "coomer" or simply "cunt".

-----

Thanks again to @dontbe-lasanya for your fantastic editing as always, but especially for helping with "dyke" this episode!

Be sure to follow for updates! For all episodes released so far, go here:

[tobiasdrake]

The Spy x Family dub doesn't have Anya's gaan noises!? Fair, but distressing.

Anya's gaan reactions are a funny gag. Whenever she's shocked or startled by something, she makes this sound.

がーん or, in English, "gaan". Pronounced "gahn".

It's not a literal sound, but an onomatopoeia. It's a gasping noise to accompany her hilarious facial expression.

For the anime, they did the manga one better and have her actually say the word がーん out loud. Often drawing out her a's for dramatic effect. It's hilarious every time she does it, and as the show progresses, Loid and Yor start doing it too.

This can be funny even if you aren't very fluent in Japanese because even then it sounds like she's exclaiming "GOOOOOOONG" which is silly in its own right.

The show is very good.

On a lark, I flipped over to the English voice track on Crunchyroll because I figured they wouldn't do gaan verbatim and would have their own take on it. I was curious to see what they use for a replacement silly noise.

And I was very distressed to learn that they. Do. Not.

They just. Don't. The English voice track just has her make an ordinary gasping noise.

...

Which is probably accurate to the manga but. Still. I cry.

[sellieloves]

Do you have a personal favorite cookie in crk?

I'm sorry if this is like super long but I love talking abt my favs :""

When it comes to story/character wise GOLDEN CHEESE COOKIE MY BELOVEDDDDD 🫶🫶🫶💕💕💕

my fav sprite of her SHE LOOKS SO CUTIE PATOOTIEEEE

I started liking her when Beast-Yeast Ep 5 came out I believe, although I've had her for quite a while. She carried my team immensely for the past year or so (?) so I got pretty attached to her, and it was her time to shine and she really hooked me with…. I am actually not sure. She has a "je ne sais quoi" charm I suppose….

Ok but I think a big part about why I like her character is her voice actresses’ performances (I mostly play with Japanese voices but I did hear the English version as well bcus I’m ill), like she sounds so refined and kinda ojousama but then she’ll make the cutest noises known to man and I EAT IT UP EVERY TIME

There's also Crispia Episode 17-18, which made me love her even more... her escapism era really made me go "oh my god she's just like me fr", and it makes me love the ending of her deciding to face reality even more, because I'm just so happy for her

There are more reasons tbh but this post is already SO LONG 😭 im sorry ;;

design wise my other fav is Cream Unicorn Cookie!!! They’re literally made for me specifically..... unicorn + pastels + amusement park..... they're my everything, I know I never talk about them here but literally they are my most spoiled cookie ever. Are they the best in arena? No not really but I like them and that's what matters.... (copium)

honorable mentions:

i know Eternal Sugar isn't even out yet but..... pink.... pretty.....

[nkhrdstyvskrrtskrrt]

📎 YOSANO AKIKO ANALYSIS

UNDERSTANDING & ANALYZING BUNGOU STRAY DOGS YOSANO THROUGH THE LENSES OF THE REAL YOSANO AKIKO'S LIFE

WC. 4,000

DISCLAIMER: I am no historian or literary expert I am just obsessed and mentally unwell, if u cannot tell, teehee <333 If this will ignite any hate or hostility (not this post’s intention), please set your sights elsewhere and just scroll. I made this because I love her character and BSD in general to a bone-shattering degree. I hope you have as much fun as I did while researching and writing this, enjoy!! (also English is not my first language forgive me for any grammatical errors ty)

There might be a part two for this, but for now, this is all my tiny brain could offer >:))

IMPORTANT NOTE: There will be a lot of omitted, summarized information that has been subjectively extracted or abridged. This is not a complete, rich historical account but research done to make connections and parallels to better understand and theorize about BSD Yosano’s character. I did not finish reading the entire biography, which is why this is only the first section of a bigger whole.

However, if you desire to dig deeper about her in an unabridged manner please kindly refer to the source I will list below. One last thing, please don’t hesitate to add your own thoughts, I am encouraging you to do so, I will appreciate it so much actually!

My primary source;; Janine Beichman - Embracing the Firebird_ Yosano Akiko and the Birth of the Female Voice in Modern Japanese Poetry-University of Hawaii Press (2002). [pdf can be downloaded for free @/libgen]

Allow me to initiate this observation with a passage directly extracted from her biography (the one named above): 

“Yosano’s father Òtori Sòshichi (1847–1903), was the second-generation owner of the Surugaya, a well-known confectioner that specialized in yòkan (sweet bean paste) and sweet dumplings.”

With this passage in mind, I’d like to remind you of this scene in the manga that hinted at BSD Yosano’s circumstances and background prior to being selected as Mori’s assistant at the fortress. In this panel, she mentioned that she was tending to a candy store before getting drafted. 

Now, drawing from the passage we read regarding the real Yosano Akiko and applying this to BSD Yosano—it’s not far-fetched to assume that the candy shop she was tending to was run and owned by her family. Normally, we could say that familial separation, especially at such an early stage of childhood would be quite hard on the child. However, if we consider the following facts from the real Yosano Akiko’s childhood and parallel it to BSD Yosano again, we could conclude that the separation wasn’t as difficult nor emotional for her when Mori selected her, because she was called in this book an ‘infant exile.’

Starting from the very birth of the real Yosano, her father was severely appalled by her because she was a girl. Moreover, he deserted their home for a week without even looking at his daughter’s face. Her mother became distressed because of the week-long absence of her father, (fainted, even) and couldn’t breastfeed her properly, resulting in the infant Yosano being sent to a maternal aunt accompanied by a wet nurse.

Two years later, due to convenience rather than the will to come back, Yosano returned to her familial house because her aunt had a new baby of her own to look after and raise. Though at this time, a new baby was born, too, at the Otoris. And this baby grew up to be the brother to whom the adult Yosano dedicated her poem ‘Thou Shalt Not Die.’ 

Since the arrival of this baby boy, Yosano’s existence has become easier to tolerate—see this actual snapshot from the passage I am referencing:

‘ while at the Òtori home a baby boy had finally arrived, making it easier to tolerate the unwelcome girl.’

As if to rub in the author’s title for the real Yosano Akiko (infant exile) even their servants and relatives had a distaste for her and her personality, viewing her as the ‘difficult’ child in the family. Here’s another direct quote from the biography book:

‘The relatives chimed in disapprovingly: “‘The younger brother is better behaved; his older sister is a little much.’ From the apprentices to the little uncle on my mother’s side all predicted better things for my younger brother than for me. Having to listen to all that didn’t feel very good.” Even the servants rubbed it in.’

Additionally, Yosano Akiko herself wrote that she never knew the warmth of a mother or father’s lap and that her parents had an inherent antipathy towards her that was not inflicted on her siblings. She wrote, that other women are troubled concerning their in-laws, and how to operate as human beings alongside them but this same worry is her very reality in her own family’s household—blood and flesh—she served her parents as if they were her in-laws and endured hardships by their hand and in their name. Here’s a snippet from the biography:

‘“Other women become brides and struggle to manage a household, but for me it was the reverse: from the time I was a young girl I served my parents as if they were my in-laws, and endured emotional and physical hardships.”’

Another possible factor that enriched an equal sentiment of apathy within Yosano was despite the extremely young age of three she was coerced into attending school—which, as made clear in the biography, was something she disliked. What gave her parents this idea? Well, her father was quite the ardent enthusiast of the science of producing superior human beings. With this belief in mind, it’s no surprise that when he mistook the large forehead of the young Yosano as a sign of intelligence, he sent her to study immediately. 

But Yosano was too young, too passionate, and excited still to engage in play with other children, to have fun with her friends because she was hardly above infancy, only three years old. Despite the awareness of the adults around her that she’s not of school age yet, she was shamed for her disagreement—as said to her by one of her maids: “See what a good girl Miss Takenaka is. Aren’t you ashamed of skipping school?” 

Are you seeing a parallel? BSD Yosano, although just 11 years old, was chosen by Mori to be the core of his immortal regiment plan, because similar to the real Yosano’s situation somebody (her father) saw something urgent and, perhaps special or advantageous in her which is why she was pushed into studying—in BSD Yosano’s case Mori saw this potential within her and incorporated her into his plans, and drafted her from what seems to be her family’s candy shop.

One thing I’d like to emphasize again is that in this drafting of BSD Yosano, the fact that she agreed or at the very least went along with Mori even if it meant being separated from her family, is because she (if we parallel it once again to the poet Yosano) was never really seen as important or someone capable in her family, they did not have faith in what she can do or her future, they did not have confidence in her character. Regarding this sentiment here are two excerpts from the biography: 

‘The restrictions themselves (which were not uncommon then, at least in Sakai) did not hurt as much as the misjudgment of her character and what she might do were she free: “It goes without saying that in a house with many employees, and particularly in a morally lax city like Sakai, a daughter had to be strictly supervised. But there was no need to go that far with a woman who took as many pains to protect herself as I did. I thought the lack of understanding of my feelings that my parents’ attitude showed was outrageous and when alone I often wept over it.”’

And: 

‘Like her parents, the teacher hurt her pride by assuming that she was less intellectually and morally advanced than she actually was, but politeness kept her from objecting. 

And as stated by the creature in Frankenstein (see how I always find a way to mention it haha): “And tell me why I should pity man more than he pities me?” 

Why should she nurture deep affection for her family—relatives and servants too, even her teacher—when they will not reciprocate even a pittance of the same love and care? Or even respect. Take a look at this paragraph from the document:

‘But the results of this parental coldness were not entirely negative. Just as 

ignorance of her ancestry liberated Akiko from the weight of family tradition, 

so multiple caretakers and the lack of parental affection weakened her sense of 

filial obligation. 

‘What gave her the strength to defy her family’s expectations 

and flee to Tokyo in her early twenties? Surely, the intensity of her love for 

Yosano Tekkan and her own literary ambition were most important; but would 

a more cherished daughter have been able to make the break so decisively? The 

seeds of the later revolt were planted in the infant exile.’

For this very reason, I conclude that if anything, being drafted by Mori was, in the 11-year-old Yosano’s eyes, an opportunity to prove her competence and worth and realize her goal—saving people’s lives (although in this, she has been failed). As a matter of fact there is a compelling possibility that this conviction to save lives was another element of the real Yosano’s personality and beliefs. It has been written in the biography that Yosano Akiko’s father was a fan of stories of heroism, stories that involved the act of protecting and saving, and what makes this relevant is that he also loved sharing these stories with his children.

From a young age, her mind was fed with these noble stories, and children are impressionable. That said, the young Yosano Akiko inherently possessed a special empathy and protectiveness over life, in support of this let us read through another snippet from a passage;

‘One summer when Akiko was around eight she was sitting up there in the evening cool with her siblings and some cousins, when one of the older children remarked, “A night when the moon and the stars are close means fire.” When the others had left, Akiko gazed up at the vastness of the sky. Feeling sorry for the children in any house that might burn and worried that the fire might reach her own house, “I tried to think of some way to increase the distance between the little star and the moon.”’

As additional support, kindly read this excerpt as well:

‘In the morning, Akiko’s parents returned from her sister’s house. As their own manager politely expressed his relief that the Takemura home was unharmed, Akiko thought sadly to herself, “I wouldn’t mind having the Take-muras’ storehouse burn down if only the Gusei girl had not turned into a charred corpse.”’

And the last addition to further highlight this:

‘So much in this story of the great Sakai fire is typical of Akiko’s view of the society in which she grew up. She shows us all the negatives of the situation: People turned out in force either because they wanted to keep the fire from spreading to their own houses or because they enjoyed a good disaster as long as it was someone else’s. Even her own family thought it natural to rejoice that their daughter’s storehouse had been spared rather than grieve for the dead Gusei girl.’

The young poet Yosano Akiko, even compared to the adults in her environment bore within her a deeper reverence for life, the actions of the adults and their selfish concerns did not amuse her, she thought very negatively of them. The grief and pity she felt for the single casualty, the girl, meant that the loss of life be it a loss of what people consider an insignificant person, mattered to her. For her, every death is worth grieving. And should never be a source of entertainment or material for gossip (the villagers made festivals and dances inspired by the incident). Taking all this into account, it’s not much of a shock that BSD Yosano was so driven to save lives, why it mattered to her so strongly, why, she was also so severely devastated about what her ability has been used for. 

A brief interlude before further digging into the real poet’s early history, I’d like to draw more emphasis on the previous points made—specifically how she’d rather have the storehouse burn (despite having a mother who’s from a lineage of merchants, and Yosano running the candy shop business as well) if it meant seeing a girl she didn’t know too deeply, live—leaping to the future, the poet’s adulthood, for a moment, to affirm further BSD Yosano’s principles regarding the preciousness of life above all else.

In her most, as called in one article, ‘inflammatory’ poem which is ‘Thou Shalt Not Die’ I want us to focus on this particular line in the poem:

For you, what does it matter if Port Arthur Fortress falls or not?

The poet Yosano Akiko was so adamant in stopping her brother, Port Arthur be damned, because it was common knowledge at that time, false or not, that serving the military was volunteering for your own death—there were rumors of the Japanese soldiers being sent to suicide missions—and for what cause, even? Well, that’s not the right question to ask, let’s correct it to what 11-year-old BSD Yosano expressed in her refusal against Mori’s command to continue healing: Should any cause matter over human life? 

Remember, she disagreed when he (Tachihara’s brother) told her that her ability could change the world. She hoped only to save those she could reach. She was aware, of her limits, of the consequences, and that she could not and should not aim for such causes.

Alright, now that we can clearly see how the real Yosano Akiko’s qualities reflect onto BSD Yosano. Back to the early past.

As young as eight, Yosano Akiko tended and shouldered a huge portion of their business’s management, because, as said in the biography her mother was “sickly” while her father was “irresponsible” so she felt that she had to shoulder their responsibilities, here’s a direct quote: ‘ So Akiko felt that she “absolutely had to” stay home and help her parents, managing both the store and the household.’

But because of this, she earned a position of authority in the household, (additionally, by the age of eighteen, she has salvaged the losses from her father’s stock investments.) analogous to—as she stated herself—how a servant acting on behalf of the master can carve out his or her own sphere of autonomy. 

Our Yosano, if we again, try to see her in the real author’s light, must have been reminded of the corner she was driven into in her younger years. Reminded, of how the adults around her could so easily burden her with duties disproportionate to her age and how powerless she was after all amidst all of it.

This time though, she had hope; hope that she could start anew and could finally leave behind a life riddled with mistrust, and belittling, that she could choose for herself what she would labor for and dedicate her efforts to.

That—in the absence of her hometown and the people she grew with, the absence too, of admiration and belonging would change. 

For a brief moment, it did. 

The soldiers adored her, praised her as an angel, and treated her as someone capable—one made her good coffee, drew her a portrait, and Tachihara’s brother even created a present for her with his ability. She was needed not as some fallback for responsibilities nobody wanted. She was necessary, in a way she approved of. She was not a better-than-nothing exile anymore.

Furthermore, quiet acceptance didn't shackle her speech and response to the adults surrounding her in the fortress. The author, Yosano Akiko during her time running the business, often had to put on a polite face and way of speaking to the customers and called out herself when she seemed childish; moreover, she had to endure the incredulity of the prominent figures in her life, and deal with its damages internally. Take this excerpt, for example:

‘Like her parents, the teacher hurt her pride by assuming that she was less intellectually and morally advanced than she actually was, but politeness kept her from objecting. Among her friends, Akiko could be open about her ambition and her pride, but with adults, she apparently felt she had to choose between a pained silence and outward disrespect, and the latter was impossible for her.’

Meanwhile, in the fortress, she could allow herself to be less restrictive with how she interacts with them. 

Even with Mori, her superior, she let go of the hesitation to speak her mind. It’s no surprise then, that by the end of it, her spirit was broken.

This opportunity for change—to make a change, meant the entire world to her. At last, she was able to help in the way that matters to her and appeals to her heart, she did not choose to be there because there were no other options. She was there for a purpose she believed in. Her service was met with gratitude, they accepted her presence, not simply tolerated it.

Until things went south. 

And it did in ways that reignited the severity of an existing fear within our Yosano. How, and why is this the case? 

The poet, until about fifteen years old, nurtured within her as she wrote, an ‘irrational anxiety about death,’ which ‘shaped her inner life.’ As if to fuel her unease, rumors circulated in Sakai (her hometown) about a certain family’s daughter who died bathed in blood after suffering for three days straight. This rumor made the young Yosano Akiko weep, imagining such a kind of suffering. And with these thoughts haunting her, she came up with a specific way in which she would accept death:

‘“If I am to die, let it be at night, so no one will see. I don’t want my suffering exposed to the light of day. I want to breathe my last alone at night in a dark room, letting death’s cruel hands claim me with lips firmly sealed, not a hair of my 

head out of place.”’

She even contemplated suicide, since it is the only way for her to die on her own terms.

Oftentimes, though, she’d take what she could to stay distracted from her mortality, which is mostly done by reading:

‘So here, in addition to the intellectual curiosity, the pleasure, and the inner

rebellion that motivated Akiko’s early reading, is another motive: escape from 

anxiety about her own mortality.’

She attempted to pacify her thoughts and emotions about death, through religion. However, despite her consideration, she ended up rejecting it. From the age of three or four, she hated the scent of incense being burned, going as far as to rush past the many temples that burned them. She disliked, too, sitting beside her parents with her hands clasped in prayer. Affirming and elaborating more on this, allow me to show you this passage:

‘The Buddhist teachings and legends they told her seemed no more than “fairytales for grownups” that could be of  no help to her in “preparing for death.”

Once she “asked if Gautama Buddha had really existed and, if so, what country he had been a citizen of ” and was told that she “would receive divine retribution” for her impertinence.

Every month her mother and her friends heard a lecture by a priest, but as soon as 

the lecture was over, the priest would join them in “ordinary gossip, speaking ill of people behind their backs.”

Akiko “realized that these believers were not even one-tenth as serious as I was about... life and death and that even after twenty or thirty years of visiting temples and praying they were still not saved.” If they had no hope, she reasoned, how much less had she. And so she 

concluded that it was “useless” for her “to expect to be helped by Jòdo Shin-

shû.”’

What did encapture her, and attract her (as said in the biography) then?

Alongside the stories of heroic virgins in Japanese myths, she too was moved by Sokkyò Shijin which was the Japanese translation of The Improviser, translated by—guess who? Ougai Mori. Yes, him. Now I want you to witness this excerpt from the biography:

‘“I envied the pure, noble life of virgin empresses like the goddess Amaterasu. The imperial virgins of Ise and Kamo also filled me with longing. When I look back now on how I felt then, I think that, while squarely facing reality, I flew off and thought of my future in beautiful, idealistic terms, and wanted to stay a pure, undefiled virgin, like an angel, all my life.”’

Considering the new information, we can once again connect it to our Yosano and conclude that BSD Yosano also shared the poet’s fear of death and mortality. Besides her disconnect with her family, she wanted to prevent others from experiencing the fear of dying in a gruesome and undignified manner, which is why she allowed herself to be drafted for war. If you’ll allow me to speculate further, I’d say dying for her (at least she believed) should be a choice, or at the very least should be aligned with the personal preferences and ideals of the person dying—and this principle of hers, augmented the horror she has felt and has bestowed upon the soldiers because what exactly did the weaponizing of her ability bereave the soldiers of, exactly? The control they have over their own death. 

She wanted to save them from death, and she did. Until they didn't want to—until, she didn't want to, anymore. But she, a child, never stood a chance against what she was actually there for. She was there as a tool to convey a new age of weaponry which were abilities.

The scene with Kaji must have allowed these memories to resurface, he called the train bombing incident an experiment, and in a sense she too was an experiment—like the soldiers, she was there to further the idea and be the evidence that abilities were the weapons of the future that will completely change the battlefield, without any guarantee that she or the soldiers would achieve success, or leave intact.

And they didn’t—not them, not her.

For now, this is all I have for our Yosano.

Or is it? Before we end this I’d like to speculate even more about the significance of Mori as a figure in our Yosano’s life—the poet was moved, her heart attached to the real Mori’s use of language in his translation, in how he wrote the nun—perhaps, BSD Yosano put an equal amount of trust and faith in Mori, his intentions, his treatment of her. Given the real Yosano’s experiences and applying the same to our Yosano, she has every reason to be distrustful and skeptical of suddenly being drafted out of all the older, more experienced people by another adult. So there must be something about BSD Mori’s language, too, that persuaded her and moved her the same way the real Yosano was affected by it. For the first time she believed—relied on him, despite experiencing so many disheartening memories dealt to her by older figures in her life.

Okay, I’m serious now, this is the end. I hope you enjoyed and most of all I hope you appreciate her more as a character, that would be the greatest achievement this post could make.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING OMG!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello! Could you please give your insights on why all of the students speak Japanese? Is it a universal language, like English, where the majority of people are taught it or is it through magic? I know it’s probably because the author is Japanese and that why her work(s) are also in said language but it’s more fun to think of nuanced reasons.

Irl meta reasoning aside, the light novel mentions that there is a translation spell over NRC. Because of that, Yuuya (the LN Yuu), who hails from Japan, is able to hear whatever the characters are saying as his native language, Japanese. (This doesn’t account for why Yuu in-game travels to places beyond NRC and can still understand what is being said 💦 unless we assume the translation spell is just cast on Yuuya?? This is a plothole that has yet to be addressed.)

I assume that Twisted Wonderland does have a universal language though, as we hear locals in other areas speaking in other languages like “French” in Fleur City, for example but knowing “English” or a more common tongue for business purposes. (I used quotation marks there because obviously these languages would not be called “French” and “English” in Twisted Wonderland since places like “France” and “England” do not exist. “French” and “English” are Twisted Wonderland’s equivalents of these languages in Yuu’s world.) Epel’s grandma and mayor mention switching from their Harveston dialect to a more common variant when they do business with a nearby city. It’s also implied to be the case for the many merchants elsewhere, like Silk City.

The only instance where magic is infused into language is to “translate” among fae, as nocturnal fae (like those in Diasomnia) and diurnal fae (like pixies) speak entirely different tongues. Lilia mentions imbuing magic into one’s voice to make oneself easily understandable to other fae. In Fairy Gala, we also see that it is possible to use a translation bell (made by Crafting Pixies) to perform the same task. Just holding it will allow you to understand pixies.

Remember that 90% of the human population is not capable of using magic, so to rely on magic for a universal language is impractical. The fact that we’ve seen mainly fae + NRC (an elite school for training mages) use magic for language implies to me that it’s a more complex magic that not everyone is capable of or has access to.

So back to the original question; if we assume the light novel’s lore is also true for the game, it is because NRC’s translation magic is doing the work for Yuu and taking whatever is actually being spoken and converting it into Japanese for their ears. At the same time, it’a likely that Twisted Wonderland has its own common tongue similar to English irl. Again though, the simpler explanation is to make things easier for the writers. No point in them getting hung up on the little details, just accept suspension of disbelief!