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leclsrc · 2 years ago

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hi, could you please do the five confessions prompt with charles?

proving my devotion – cl16

genre: fluff, sry charles is a pining yearning mess, title from this

send for five times the receiver almost says ‘i love you’ and the one time they do.

The plates clack against each other, dissonant in the otherwise still evening. Charles stacks one atop the other, awaits his mother’s nosy questioning—the inevitable gamble, every time he brings a girl home—but she’s quiet, humming a song under her breath, the one she always sings when she’s doing the dishes. Something’s different tonight, a slight change he can’t name.

“So,” he starts, because she won’t and the curiosity kills him. His eyes find you, with the ease he’s adopted in the months of knowing you, dancing with Lorenzo on the patio to a Luther Vandross song. “Thoughts?”

“Hmm. Tu es fouineur.” She teases, a glint in her eye. How the tables have turned, she seems to say.

Silently, over the dirty dishes, they both recount the day gone: the lunch moved from noon to half-past-three because Arthur burned the turkey, the dropped bottle of wine you’d gifted because one of Charles’ uncles accidentally let it slip from his hand (you said it was okay, it was just a hundred euros when it was closer to one grand), the guitar performance from Charles.

The way the sun had drowned in a sea of Monaco orange, and with it the stories of weddings, Jules, and Hervé, and the affair moved outside to the patio so Lorenzo could boast his brand new speaker that was so worth the many zeroes on the price tag, maman! And you had quickly found out Charles’ inability to dance was, in fact, genetic.

It’s a new sensation for Charles, a thrilling one, a frightening one even. He squeezes the sponge and watches soap filter through his fingers. He turns, lets his green eyes meet your soft ones. It’s an exhausting effort but he says it anyway, wrenches it out quietly: “I think… I think I…”

“I know,” Pascale says. She presses a kiss to his shoulder. “I see it.”

—

You’d taken home a frayed copy of The Little Prince you bought at a garage sale.

It’s so old, its pages have long yellowed and there’s evidence of past ownership all over it. Most notable of them is a name on the front page, along with a number that’s probably unused now. Isn’t it so quaint—and the words, babe, you’d said with conviction when he questioned your purchase, the words are in French!

You’ve been trying your luck with the language for a good few weeks, but it’s a brick wall—mur de briques, if you go by the textbook on your bedside table. You huff when you can’t translate the last lines of the passage you’re reading, tossing the book onto the empty space beside you that is quickly occupied by Charles’ bulky figure.

“Stuck again?” He asks, opening the dog-eared pages to find where your bookmark is nestled. Under your palms, you groan and nod with frustration.

“Don’t try me,” you say, voice gravelly. “I can’t translate it.”

The rough pad of his index finger traces the yellowed page, and he smiles softly at your many annotations. Verb conjugation, words you found easy, words you still forget now.

His eyes flicker up, to your lying figure, the freckles on your arms, the mole on your hip he can only see because your shorts have ridden down low. His heart swells, seizes, his mind rampant with thoughts of you. Please tell her, he says to himself. Tell her everything. Tell her how you find her in all the passages, in all the French words, in all the books, in all the times she says your name. She’s everywhere, she’s everything. Tell her tell her tell her you lo—

But the realness of it all chokes him, and he says instead, placing a big palm on your abdomen, “I’ll read it for you.”

—

There are few sentences considered odd on a paddock. People say anything on it—driver gossip, car gossip, celebrity gossip, engineer gossip. Charles can guarantee he’s heard some of the weirdest statements and Freudian slips (the one time Christian Horner called Toto ‘dad’) on a paddock.

“Carlos—pshhfhf—sprayed—pfffsh—whip cream—on my face!” …Okay, that’s. That’s different.

He turns, eyes wide. “What?!”

You stand in the doorway, frozen.

Your face is almost completely covered in white, and bits of your hair have fallen victim to the sweet spray of whip, too. You look frazzled and freaked. “I just got my hair blown out. I did my makeup. Dude. I look like a clown.”

“Oh, my God,” he says, already unable to contain his laughter. “I love you—!”

A millisecond passes him by like an hour. “—r uh, your new makeup hairdo, thing, a-ling. Thing-a-ling. Makeup. Your new makeup.”

—

There is an angel in Charles’ bed. She leaves a lovebite on his neck.

“Good morning,” he says, gruff. I love— but it stops itself before he can even open his mouth.

—

You get into a minor fight about cooking music.

Charles waves the whisk in the air, claims he will die on the hill of cooking to French jazz. You call it pretentious and crank up the Stevie Wonder. Eventually you fall into a repeated pattern of songs that satisfy the both of you.

“I read somewhere that if you roll basil up,” you say, chewing on a rogue leaf of mint from your pre-dinner mojito and walking up to him, “and chop it, it saves time trying to cut it up by itself.”

“Does it?” Charles asks, entertaining you. You roll your eyes and shove him lightly. He raises the knife in his hand, mumbles careful, baby under his breath. You insist he try, so he rolls up two leaves. Unfortunately, you’re right.

“So now we get to have pesto in five minutes instead of five hours,” you tease, kissing him. It’s minty, there’s French jazz in the background, and you’ve taught him to chop basil in the most affectionate soft-spoken way possible. It’s sacred. He’s afraid, he’s always been, that he would never be able to say it, that it would always be a losing game of wrestling words out of his throat—but now he’s not.

“I love you,” he mutters. It’s easy, unforced, natural. The words find solace, find home in the warm kitchen. He refuses to open his eyes because God knows what you’ll say then. Run away maybe? Throw all the basil to the ground? Down the entire cooler of mojito?

Your silence is deafening. “Did you hear me?” He opens his eyes.

A foolishly pretty smile greets him. “I got it the first five times.”

#f1 #charles leclerc #leclsrc2000 #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagines #charles leclerc drabble #charles leclerc smut #f1 x reader

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l0ves1ckf0ol · 2 years ago

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NOT SO BAD | xavier thorpe x gn!reader

"rita wouldn't be wrong though."

this was requested by anon, but i accidentally posted it by accident ( a draft) but then i took down the post to write a new one (aka this one) enjoy (also theres some mentions of death so.)

"hey freak!" before xavier could even turn around and see who it was, he got shoved down to the brick floor, he would have tasted dirt if he didn't close his mouth. he sighed, standing up to look back at the jericho goons, "you think you could storm your way here? in our own homes? you're the one who makes drawings come to life right?" they flood xavier's head with taunting questions that he didn't even get to answer.

it was the dreaded day of the festival. he had a lot of stuff going on in his head, and he certainly did not want to have his fun with these normies. defeated, he continues to walk away, not wanting to deal with them right now. they kept on chasing him though, until he stops next to a certain someone.

"look will you guys just shut the fuck up and leave me alone, you won't even be eating real food right now if it weren't for our principal funding your stupid charities to a town that can't even appreciate the minority." xavier spat, fed up the dudes just looked stunned, he thought he'd shut them up but it wasn't quite the case. xavier turns around to see a normie, in which was glaring dread into their souls.

"scram." that they did.

once they scrambled away, xavier only stared at the person. they look towards xavier and sighed, "sorry. the welcome comittee isn't as welcoming as it is intended." they apologized. xavier hummed, as his eyes landed on the tray of bread samples you were selling by a bakery.

"hey, can i have one? long day." he asks and they nodded in response. he takes a piece of cheese bread and began to eat.

xavier begins to wonder why he hasn't seen you, in the previous trips to jericho. "you new here?" he asked "ancestors lived here for years, i just went insane and managed to run away. and by insane i meant that an outcast friend of mine was killed." you told him, xavier sighed "did you kill that friend?"

you laughed hysterically, he then grew concerned of your behavior. "no, no, i didn't. someone killed her, no one in this town would just admit it. it's kept on the down low since then." you replied gravely. "when was this?" he questions you, you could sense his own curiosity "she didn't even make it until school starts to actually go to your school, she stayed at home mostly, it was around june when she got killed."

xavier hummed, never hearing of such a thing. it really was well hidden, if not, the normie was lying.

"your name?" xavier looked at them and forced a smile "xavier." you nodded, "y/n."

"i'm visiting her later, well by later i mean 30 minutes from now, my shift ends from there. wanna meet up there?" xavier scoffed, "typical setting to beat an outcast up, huh?" you rolled your eyes, "look mr. trust issues, i know you're on edge and shit and it's more than fine if you wouldn't come. as much as i hate to say this, you're unattracting customers." you grit your teeth, facing the groups of people staring at the both of you. xavier then walks away, contemplating whether or not would he want to meet up a normie.

he looks back, seeing customers now swarning the normie with the tray of bread, seeing you smile and attend to them made his heart go soft for a moment.

at that moment, he swerved his direction to the cemetery instead of weathervane.

when he arrived, you were following right behind him. holding a plastic bag of chips and scented candles. "what are the chips for?" he asks you as you stomped on orange autumn leaves, on your way to your friend's grave, passing by mossy and old ones, xavier was still doubtful of his decision, the cemetery was inclosed and no one would even hear him scream for help. "rita hates flowers, she likes junk food and scented candles so i bought some." you told him as you finally slowed down to a less flithy gravestone. you set down a bag of lays chips on the stone and opened one for yourself, setting down the candles as well. xavier crossed his arms as he read the engravings:

rita lupin

born: 2006 died: 2021

it was glad to know that his possible normie friend wasn't an asshole after all. he has never been to a funeral before, let alone even visited a grave, this was his first time and he definitely didn't expect some smiles from you as you stare down at the grave.

"hey rita, this is xavier. he was going to be your classmate y'know? anyway what are you- a werewolf or.."

"i'm just telekinetic."

he did not expect a normie to be talking to a grave.

you looked at the sky, closing your eyes and smiled. "rita would find you cute." you chuckle, he raises an eyebrow, stifiling a giggle "wow, rita is nice." he mutters. you knelt down and grab a lighter from you back pocket and leaned the candles on the stone, lighting up each one "i mean rita is not wrong though" you wink at him and he rolls his eyes with a wry chuckle. now it was just plain silence, the wind brushing past them, leaves occasionally floating along with it.

"do you ever cry, whenever you... y'know, visit her?" he asked you. "who wouldn't? she's the best werewolf i met." you replied, now facing him ever since you both arrived here. "you've never visited a grave before?" you asked. he shook his head, "nope." you nod in response. "to relieve you right now, sorry for y'know whatever normies fo to you and your peers. i also actually never knew you all existed until.." you trail off. the silence grew louder, xavier raised an eyebrow.

"until?"

"until ol' rita here." you point towards her with a sigh. xavier examines you, you're glassy eyes and your longing gaze, you seemed genuine. he didn't know why would you invite an outcast like him to visit your dead friend, or why did he even agree.

xavier silently admits he was wrong about this normie. maybe they were the exception, they weren't that bad after all.

#wednesday x reader #xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x gn reader #gn reader #xu's fics #wednesday addams netflix #xavier thorpe #xavier thorpe fanfic

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angelicyouth · 2 years ago

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Youth ; Chapter 3

⇢ pairing: kenny mccormick x marsh!reader x craig tucker

⇢ synopsis: ❝Growing up with the boys as the sole girl of the group, it was only natural for them to grow protective over their pseudo-little sister as the years went by.❞

⇢ warning: descriptions of a panic attack

⇢ [AO3 link] ; [series masterlist] ; [previous] ; [next]

A cacophony of voices fight to be heard over the other, everyone shit talking around the game of Mario Kart that’s currently set up in our living room. The boys and I watch as the four players duke it out on the big screen, witnesses to a friendship-breaking competition.

Loud stomping abruptly interrupts the taunts, “Y/N! What the hell? Is that my fucking shirt that you’re wearing?” My brother violently hollers from his spot, standing halfway down the stairs to peer down at the rest of us.

“The one you’ve been looking for all morning? Yup.” I lazily drawl from my spot on the couch, obnoxiously popping the “p” in my reply. My head slightly shifts as Tweek attempts to neatly braid my hair, Butters gently coaching him from the side.

“You’re a fucking asshole, you know that? Made me waste a bunch of time looking for nothing.” Stan continues as he finishes his journey down the stairs.

“You act like you have better things to do, loser. No girlfriend, no job—nada. So I don’t see what the big deal is. Are you on your period or something?” An accidental sharp tug makes me wince, Tweek muttering apologies as he quickly kisses the top of my head in repentance for his mistake.

“Shut up! Quit stealing my shit!” He's standing off to the side of the couch now, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed.

I glare at Stan and say around a mouthful of orange chicken at the top of my lungs. “Quit stealing my weed then!”

”God, you’re such a fucking pothead!” He shouts, fists clenching in anger.

”Says the alcoholic who starts his day with a shot!” It’s a low blow but all I can see is red.

“Bro, quit being a whiny bitch. You’re not dirt poor like Kinny. Just buy a new one.” Said blonde flashes Cartman his middle finger so he rolls his eyes and attempts to correct himself. “What? Fine, at least you weren’t born ginger and a Jew like Kahl. Talk about a double whammy, I’d honestly kill myself.”

”You don’t need a reason to kill yourself, Cartman. Make all of us happy for once and just do it. If you really need a reason, just think about how fat you are and how much wasted space you take up.”

”Aye!”

The match concludes with Jimmy coming out on top and the boys deciding to abandon the game entirely. They resume eating the Chinese takeout that’s laid out on the coffee table in front of them and half-heartedly listen to the sibling’s routine bickering.

“Take it off.” He scoffs at me, face heated with anger. Tolkien rolls his eyes so hard that I’m surprised a headache doesn’t occur.

“Huh?”

“C’mon, Y/N. You’re stupid, not deaf. Want me to ask mom to get you hearing aids? I said: take. It. Off.” Comes out of my brother’s gritted teeth, each word growing more impatient and strained.

“Big deal, Stan! There’s so many other fucking shirts in this house. Feel free to get one from my closet if you need one so bad.” I retort in exasperation, clenching the denim on Tweeks legs that lay on either side of my body in frustration.

“Ack!” The frenzied blond yelps from behind me and I let go, fiddling with the creases on his jeans instead.

“No! Didn’t you hear me, r-tard? It’s mine, I bought it. Now, take it off!” Kyle closes his eyes at the elder Marsh’s words, tired beyond his years.

“Able to throw some money away for a dumb shirt but you can’t even pay me back my hundred dollars.” The local space enthusiast mumbles to himself, a chorus of ‘shut up, Craig!’ resounds from the boys in Team Stan.

“Fine!” I smirk and get off from my perch on the couch, a sly yet very bold idea pops up into my head. The perfect little thing to piss my dear older brother off. If you want petty, I’ll give you petty.

I grab my shirt from the hem and start to slowly lift it off of my frame, quirking a smug eyebrow and taunting my brother with a smile when more skin starts to show.

“Woohoo!” Kenny hollers excitedly at me, his hands in the air.

“F-f-fuck! No! Quit it, will you?! Don’t fucking do that!” Stan pushes those in his way aside and the boys make it hard for him on purpose by sticking out their legs to trip him. My brother scrambles over to me, forcing my hands down.

“Aw. What’s wrong, Stanley? You’re starting to sound a lot like Jimmy, how cute. I thought you wanted your stupid shirt?” I jeer at him. It’s like what Bebe always says: boys never know what they want and that’s the problem with them. Amen, sister.

“Ewww, Marsh. No one wants to see your underdeveloped body.” Craig socks Cartman on the arm, hard and the larger teen squeals like a dying pig.

“Don’t listen to them, sexy! Keep on going!” Clyde joins in laughing, sliding off his jacket and twirling it over his head in support of the apparent stripping going on.

“You’re voluptuous! Curvaceous! I’m already down on my knees at the sight of you, sweet thang!” Clyde continues to exaggeratedly hype me up, comically imitating the sound of a barking dog afterwards.

“I don’t know how you guys can take her seriously when her hair’s only halfway done. Looks like a damn hippie.” Cartman mumbles, more focused on inhaling his food and rubbing his now sore arm.

“Pffft, b-buh-baby Marsh gone w-wild!” Kung pao chicken accompanies Jimmy’s words of encouragement and he grabs one of his arm crutches, twirling it above his head too. My hands are still at the hem of my shirt, lifted up slightly and exposing a sliver of skin, even when my brother lets go.

I turn my head and catch Craig’s eyes trailing down as he smirks at me, his eyebrows lifted up playfully. A glint in his deep blues as he nonchalantly says, “I wouldn’t mind.”

While I’d normally giggle in amusement at the normally stoic teen and the contribution towards further riling my brother up, my face immediately flushes red after my talk with the girls at the party. I’d say that butterflies are invading my stomach, struggling to break free but it honestly feels like a whole damn zoo down there.

Feeling the adrenaline rush from my brother’s anger, the boys egging me on, and Craig’s attention, my heart beats at record breaking speed and I can feel my cheeks shyly heat up. This development doesn’t go by unnoticed as Kenny stops his playful cheering and laughing, watching the interaction between us two with furrowed brows.

“Fuck off, Tucker. Actually, fuck both of you all the way to hell.” My brother grumbles, angrily throwing himself onto an unoccupied space on the couch with his arms crossed. “It’s the fucking principle of things.”

“Big word, Stanley. Is that your word of the day? Did you learn it from this week’s episode of Sesame Street?” I mock him with a pout in fake sympathy.

“Shut the fuck up before I kick your fucking teeth in!” My brother’s stupid face goes red with anger.

He pouts when Kyle holds him back and rolls his eyes, ever the voice of reason. “They were just joking, Stan.”

“Yeah, Stanley. I was just joking.” My eyes continue to follow Craig as he lifts a bite of food towards his handsome face, wooden chopsticks pressed against his still smirking plush lips.

“Craig.” My brother says sharply this time, straightening up his back to glare at the teen over Cartman’s bigass head. I’m slightly confused as to what’s happening but still loving the attention Craig is giving me.

“Relax, Marsh.” Craig chuckles with a challenging look in his eyes. Tension begins to grow in the room and I’m lost because the other guys would normally laugh at suave shit like that and instigate a fight.

I roll my eyes and figure that it’s just them being overly protective, going back to my spot in between the cute coffee addict’s legs so that he can finish his attempt at doing my hair. Butters has a small braid done in between tufts of silky blonde from when I demonstrated the process to Tweek. He rubs his knuckles together, nervous energy exuding from his body as I return next to him.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

The girls excitedly informed me of tryouts and the process, which involves practice with the already established team and the new potential recruits. A week and a half is given to learn a few cheers before the day they hold the official tryouts, which was today. It’s here where I finally meet Nichole Daniels, Tolkien’s girlfriend. It would’ve been nice if he brought her over from time to time but I can understand his vehement refusal of bringing her anywhere near a number of dumb boys. Trouble seems to follow the guys wherever they go.

As promised to the parentals, I attended and it’s not as bad as I thought it would be with the friends I’ve already made being here. I’ve never had problems with dancing as it comes easy to me so it’s nice to just hang out and bask in the feminine energy.

My parent’s request has continued to go under the radar as the boys have been busy with the football season starting. Their practice allows me to not have to think of an excuse for staying out late since they’re already busy, extracurricular activities taking up their time after school as they prepare for the season.

I shove the heavy front doors of the school open, the sun almost fully set as a gradient of red, yellow, and orange bathe me in their hues. The girls always remember to offer me a ride home from their parents but I always politely reject, my guilt not allowing any of them to go out of their way and use their gas on me.

My hands are shoved into my pockets, trying to accumulate as much heat as possible while I begin the journey home. Wisps of fleeting, misty clouds escape from my mouth after each puff of breath I let out and I watch them disappear. I bask in the rare moment of solitude and the quiet that comes with it.

I’m colder than I normally would be tonight because a freshman accidentally spilled her gatorade onto the duffel bag that I’ve been using for cheer. Not only were the sweats that I usually throw on over my shorts drenched in sticky sweetness, but the clothes I wore to school earlier were also an unlucky casualty to the liquid electrolytes.

I wonder if I’ll make the cheer team, I ponder to myself.

The rhythmic sound of my steps on the concrete sidewalk accompany me on my walk and I hum to myself until I hear sharp, rambunctious laughter. I’m startled as my head shoots up and see that across from me in the distance are a group of boisterous, older teens. Fear resounds within me when I faintly remember them terrorizing my brother and friends when they were in the fourth grade, them having been in the sixth at the time.

I pray in my head that they don’t notice me but my prayers go unanswered as they cross the street, now joining me on the same sidewalk. I know I can’t outrun them so I panic and impulsively decide to take a detour, turning right into an alleyway until I dreadfully notice that I can still hear them from behind. What was once just the sound of obnoxious laughter is now the noise of thundering footsteps following closely, beginning to get louder and louder.

My feet hastily pick up their pace and I can feel the tremors reverberate through my now sweating hands, anxiety filling me to the very core. My trembling makes the process of pulling out my phone agonizingly slow and I silently curse at my misfortune.

The white puffs of air that once brought me entertainment on my walk now serve as a reminder of the danger I’m in. Unlike before, they come out of my mouth in quick intervals and I clench my teeth to bid them away.

Out of nowhere, someone roughly yanks on my ponytail and they’re quick to cut off my yelp as a rough hand forces itself onto my mouth. The assailant painfully holds onto my other arm, both grips enforcing excruciating pain.

“Hey, I recognize you. You go to our school, always around those dumb boys.” One of the perpetrators in front of me sneers as he brings his face up to mine, his rancid breath invading my senses and making me feel even sicker than before.

“Lucky, aren’t we? We got baby Marsh!” Their eyes lighten up in both delight and recognition. I can feel upcoming bile trying to force its way up my throat from hearing the term of endearment the boys call me used like this, the connotation eerie in this situation.

Trying to make a sound is futile as all my cries for help are muffled, my captor getting annoyed at my squirming and relocating his hold on my arm to my neck instead. He squeezes and I whimper in fear, my breathing becomes more desperate when my kicking and elbows do nothing to deter him.

“Why’re you crying? You’re just asking for it when you walk around in fucking shorts. We live in South Park. No one would dress that way outside in the snow if they weren’t a total slut.” They all degradingly mock me, laughter resounding throughout the cold air as foreign fingers begin to play along the edge of my shorts.

“Pffft, dumb bitch.” One of them slaps me just because they have the power to do so in my vulnerable state before squeezing both of my cheeks together with one hand, hard.

“Who wants to go first?” They all fight over the answer to the question and I clench my eyes shut in dread, the color draining from my face.

Before they can do anything, yelling can be heard and I’m dropped by my captor. I stumble to the dirty ground of the alleyway at the loss of my previous support. On the floor, I painfully dig my nails onto my thighs. My breath hitches and my chest tightens, my panicking intensifying despite finally being free.

Short breaths rake through my trembling body and my nails dig deeper. Crescent moons appear on soft skin, invoking blood. My head starts to feel a little light and I try my hardest to calm myself down but it’s to no avail, my attempts prove to be futile. My unoccupied hand trembles as they reach up to touch wet, stinging cheeks. I didn’t even notice that I‘ve begun to sob as every gasp for air racks my body.

“Holy shit.” Varying voices can be heard from around me but my mind barely registers their words as my head continues to feel even lighter than before.

Even though I’m unable to determine whether or not I’m safe, I don’t flinch when someone crouches next to me and hastily crushes me against their hard chest. I’m numb to my surroundings and everything feels distorted. It’s as if I’m underwater, drowning.

“Ack! She’s hyperventilating! Gyah!”

“No fucking shit captain obvious!”

“Shut the fuck up!” The chest I’m against rumbles and my brain finally registers it as the sound of Kenny’s voice. I muster up what little strength I have to look up and see my boys around me. My brother is directly crouched in front of me and from my peripherals, I can just barely see that it’s Kyle in the same position next to him, eyes wide in panic.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“Fuck! What should we do?!” It’s Tolkien this time but I can’t look away from my brother. My eyes are begging him to do something, anything to make it stop. Oh how I wish twin telepathy were real.

“Breathe, baby. You need to breathe for me.” The world tilts around me as a soothing voice near my ear urges. A resounding gasp of air struggles to be inhaled but it’s too shaky and tears of frustration continue to fall. My breathing isn’t slowing and I just want this to be over.

“Someone needs to do something before her heart gives out!” Someone loudly kicks what sounds to be a trash can in anger, messily spilling its contents all over the floor and I flinch at the blow.

“Y/N, breathe.” Stan coaches me, taking my hand and placing it on his chest. His large hand encompasses my smaller one, exerting slight pressure until I can feel his heartbeat.

“Just focus on the sound of my voice and follow me. In, and out. In, and out. I’m here. You see me, right? You’re here with me at this very moment and you’re safe. You’re always safe with me. Big brothers always got you, yeah?”

I can’t do it anymore, I just can’t.

I’ve been trying and nothing is happening.

It won’t stop and I can’t fucking breathe.

I don’t want to disappoint everyone but I’m tired.

“Shh, shh. You can, love, you can. I know you can.” Kenny patiently encourages me as he gently brushes strands of my hair away from my sticky, tear-stained cheeks. Heavily disoriented, I didn’t seem to realize that I was verbalizing all of my thoughts.

“You know why? Because my girl is the absolute best—the best girl ever and everyone who's anybody knows that. She’s resilient and just so, so strong. As long as she tries her best, I’ll always be proud of her no matter what and nothing she can do will ever disappoint me. Literally, nothing. She could put a bullet through my head and I’d just pass away in euphoria because my last living memory is of a goddess with ethereal beauty.” Kenny continues and ever so slightly, a corner of my lip lifts up.

This is familiar. This is comforting. I know this. The playful flirting and cheesy, over the top exaggeration. His soothing voice helps guide me back down to Earth as I focus on the rising chest of my brother under my fingertips. This is familiar, too. It’s a sound I’ve always known, even before I was born. Whenever I’m feeling sad or scared, my big brother will always hug me to his chest, my ear pressed against the faint beating of his heart. The rhythmic sound let’s me know that I’m safe, I always am when he’s here. This sound is the other half of me.

“Good girl, you’re doing great. Really great. You always do great and I knew you would.” It’s the voice near my ear again and this time, I’m finally able to look away from my brother to see that the voice belongs to Craig. It appears he had a hand on my shoulder throughout the whole ordeal, his thumb rubbing comforting circles over my jacket.

I now notice that Butters has my other hand firmly in his, tears streaking down both his and Clyde’s faces. They all must have found me after practice and I’m thankful that I wasn’t too far from the school before everything went down.

When they ask me what I was doing out so late, in athletic shorts no less, I mumble an excuse about the girls inviting me to workout in the weight room back at school. They don’t know that it’s not just today that I’ve been trekking home alone at night and I don't want to correct their assumption when they sternly lecture me on how dangerous it is.

After taking me home and getting myself cleaned up, they decide on an impromptu movie night filled with blankets, pillows, and snacks. Last minute texts are sent to their parents, notifying them of an emergency sleepover. They place me in the middle, a cocoon of softness, warmth, and comfort. They let me choose all the movies for the rest of the night and the food we order for delivery.

Our faces are colored a pale green from the clay mask I put on everyone, those with longer hair having mini palm trees at the top of their head from being tied up away from their faces.

Self care, they told me.

This isn’t edible so don’t try to lick it off your face, I told Cartman.

I slowly look around and take in the bright light of the television reflecting off of their individual faces. Some people, like Tolkien and Kyle, are starting to nod off, fighting the last dredges of sleep for my sake. On the other end of the spectrum, Butters and Clyde jump at every loud sound that accompanies the suspenseful music, paranoia painting their faces white. Tweek catches my eye and gently feeds me a kernel of popcorn.

Surrounded by my boys, I smile knowing I’m safe whenever I’m with them.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

I’m sitting in front of my vanity, carefully applying some makeup to cover the faint bruising on my cheek, the process therapeutic. The occasional clicking of buttons could be heard, Craig lounging on my bed with a handheld gaming console in his hands. I softly mouth along to the words of the low music playing from my phone while faint laughter can be heard from downstairs.

I chance a glance up and catch Craig’s reflection from the corner of my eyes, but I don’t turn my head around as we make eye contact through the mirror. My lips unconsciously quirk up, fondness of the boy behind me fills my entire being from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. “Hmm? What’s up, Tucker?”

He doesn’t say anything, only a thoughtful look adorning his attractive features. Ever since the night the boys found me, I’ve been catching their lingering gazes on me from time to time. Eyes distant, as if they’re looking past me.

I settle both of my elbows onto the tabletop, my hands carefully framing both of my cheeks lest I smudge my hard work. My smile doesn’t falter, never when I’m with him, and I lightheartedly tease him, “What? Never seen a good looking Marsh before? I know you’re around my brother all the time but he's not that ugly.”

I’m successful in getting a reaction from him because I’m soon rewarded with a twinkle of mirth in his eyes, his expression softening, “Come here.”

His deep voice is firm, filling my room with its gentle demand and I blindly obey. With Craig, I’d do just about anything for him. He’s now seated upright and has positioned himself at the edge of my bed, legs open and his thumb tapping a beat onto his thigh.

When I’m close enough, the boy grabs both of my hands, interlocking our fingers together. He gives the intertwined digits a swift, reassuring squeeze before guiding me to him to close the short distance between us. I stand in between his legs and he elicits sudden goosebumps along my arms as he carefully drags his long fingers down the length of it, slowly before finding purchase at my hips.

I instinctively loop my arms around his neck, bringing us closer together and he gently squeezes in response. He murmurs so quietly, “Are you okay?”

I softly reply, my thumbs rubbing soothing circles onto the back of his neck, catching strands of smooth black hair. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

Our voices are hushed. There’s no need to be quiet but it feels like we’re in a bubble and at any disruption, no matter how slight, might pop it.

“Yeah… You know I’m always here for you, right?” I softly nod in response, a slight shift in this space of intimacy we’ve created.

“You know you have me, right?” Again, I nod as I hang onto his words.

“Because I’d do anything for you, Y/N. It doesn’t matter what it is—big or small. At the asscrack of dawn or in the middle of the night. I'd drop whatever I was doing if it meant getting to you when you need me.” His long fingers reach up to lightly smooth his thumb at the area where soft skin meets makeup.

“If you ever have any doubts or feel upset about anything, just talk to me, okay? And I promise that I’ll do whatever I can to erase those doubts and remind you of how much you mean to me. I don’t ever want you to feel alone or less of anything, not when you mean everything to me.” The ravenette continues as he moves his hand, this time tucking silky strands of hair away from my face and behind my ear.

I shyly giggle in bliss at his soft touch and even lighter voice. “Where is this coming from, Craig?”

He ignores my question, persistent to convey his message to me. “You do know that, right, Y/N?”

“Of course, I’ve never doubted it or thought otherwise.”

“Good.” The teen says, satiated before bringing us down onto the bed.

My hands lay themselves against his chest to keep myself upright and he caresses my head with both hands, angling my head down to give my forehead a soft kiss. His lips lingers before pulling away.

・ ─ ・ ⋯ ・ ─ ⊹ ♡₊˚๑

It wasn’t hard for the girls to see the slight traces of lingering purple under my attempted camouflage. I tried to reassure them that it wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine, yet they persisted in trying to make up for it due to the guilt they all felt.

I had just finished applying my daily cover up and was adding the final touches to my hair, making sure that every single strand was in place. Satisfied, I turn the brightness of my computer screen back up until the reflection of myself on the glass disappears. I had time before I was due to head out so I loosely curled every lock cascading down my shoulders, braids adorning either side of my head. The girls wanted to take me out later in the day as an otherwise unnecessary apology and I hummed to myself in excitement.

“Wow, doll. Is this all for me?” I look up from the boss battle I was currently engaged in, pausing to identify the intruder that let out a low whistle.

Kenny leans off from his laidback position on my door frame and lazily walks up behind me, the end of his lips quirked up. He gives me an appreciative hum as he takes his time scanning my appearance, indulging his eyes on my figure. I patiently smile at his appreciation.

“Ah, scratch that. That was a stupid question, you’re beautiful every single day to anyone who lays their eyes on you. You don’t even need to try so I meant to say that this is a welcomed treat.” I turn around in my seat to face him, giggling at his words of praise. I greedily drink them in as I loop my arms around his waist.

“Beautiful?” I seek more of his validation, a deepening blush rising on my cheeks as I parrot back his compliment.

He takes a small section of my hair and gently guides his hand to his face, kissing the soft locks in his possession. He hums to me, “Beautiful, bewitching, alluring… You’re every synonym and every iteration of the word, babe. You define beautiful, you’re the very embodiment of it. That word was created because of you—if I were to look under the definition of it, your name would be there.”

My smile grows wider and my cheeks start to hurt from the action, resulted by the constant influx of euphoria that the blonde never fails to provide me. Whether from being drunk on the male’s compliments or shyness, the color red has made its permanent residence onto my cheeks.

He lets go of my hair and gently cups his large hands on either side of my face, angling it up towards his taller figure.

“Pretty.” He quietly utters to my skin, kissing my forehead.

“Gorgeous.” A kiss to my nose this time.

“Irresistible.” A kiss to my left cheek.

“Ravishing.” A firmer kiss to my right cheek with a playful growl, melodic laughter gets pulled out of me.

“Lovely.” He says much softer this time, watching me with gentle eyes. He keeps his devoted gaze onto my visage, his thumb lightly goes over my lips once. “Everything a guy could ever ask for in a person. Everything that I could ever want in life. If I could have one wish, it’d be you.”

My eyes flicker between bright azure orbs, the air between us charged. Before I can say anything, the sound of muffled yelling from my brother’s room startles us. I hastily look away embarrassed, the moment between us broken.

“Can I make you pretty, too?” I flash him a toothy grin and he playfully rolls his eyes, seeking refuge onto my bed. That’s all the answer I need before I push at his shoulders to guide his back down before I settle myself onto his lower stomach, giggling with an eyeshadow palette in one hand and a makeup brush in the other.

Washing flecks of glittery white over his eyelids, I bring my face closer to his and take the time to study the teen under me while his eyes are closed. His slender hands find purchase at my hips and I find myself mesmerized at the mini constellations that adorn his handsome face. Albeit not many, every freckle looks like a tiny star, accentuating the blonde’s mesmerizing features.

I lean in closer to get a better look as I carefully paint a streak of black, a steady hand making a line. I inspect my latest stroke when his hand gently grabs the wrist of the hand I have hovering over his face, the same one holding my eyeliner brush. His eyes slowly open as to not disturb my art, our faces close to one another. Kenny showcases his boyish smile, flashing me with deep dimples at the lack of space between us and my eyes inadvertently lower, seeking plush lips.

“Haven’t you noticed that yeah, the boys are overprotective over you. But when it comes to Kenny and Craig, it’s different?”

Fuck.

#south park #south park x reader #craig tucker x reader #kenny mccormick #craig tucker #south park fanfiction #kenny mccormick x reader #lalawrites

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michelletsw · 2 years ago

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Could you a Jamil and Cater request of their s/o seeing them with their hair down for the first time? You’re choice if it’s during something sweet or a makeout 👀

Ooo~ I like the way you think lol!

First of all can we talk about how fine both of these men are with there hair down✨️✨️

Warnings ⚠️ none really

GN s/o beginning of relationship more on the wholesome side with.. Implications ( ͡°³ ͡°)

Voice lines are colored as always y/n is pink jamil is orange and cater is in red

Also I recently got asked why I color the voice lines so ima just put it out here lol I do it so your not staring at a simple colored page when reading it, helps them pop more :>

Jamil

You and jamil have only been dating for a few weeks now meaning this would be the first time your staying the night over in scarabia, making your way through the halls till you reach jamils room. You open the door with out thinking and call out to jamil, he was siting at his desk finishing up schoolwork. Jamil truns to you about to say something but stops confused at your expression, starstruck, completely in awe looking at his hair that, till now you've only seen in braids and tied up. You didn't think it would be so beautiful out of its normal style. Jamil speaking up asks "what in the world are you doing?" His words snapping you out of your thoughts you apologize and walk in the room completely, closing the door and puting your stuff down, nothing but confusion in his voice he asks "what was that about?" Hesitant with your words you tell him what you where thinking "oh- I was just shocked from your hair. Not like in a bad way, I mean it's just so beautiful when it's down like this I didn't think you could get any more gorgeous then you already where.." jamil just sat there completely destroyed from what you said boys whole face is red, turning away from you and pulling the hood up from his jacket to hide his face "thank you.." he barely got that out poor boy was getting kicked in the stomach from butterflys now how was he supposed to make it till tomorrow morning..

Cater

Even tho you've been together for about a few weeks now you've never seen his hair down. Today you had some extra free time and decided to drop off some snacks after caters band practice, you went ahead and bought some chips and a few other things you knew he would injoy and making your way to his dorm room to surprise him. You placed the snacks on his desk and sat down on his bed till he got back. He walks through the door and let's out a surprised "oh! Y/n what are you doing here" you couldn't respond to his question as he shut the door and placed his stuff down all you could do was stare at him. His normally tied back hair was now in a side part and damn did he look fine. Cater looking back at you with a confused smile still waiting for you to answer, but you just kept staring at him. Noticing the snacks you put on his desk he asks "what are the snacks for?" Breaking your train of thought to look over at the stuff you brought over "what.. oh! I um wanted to surprise you after your practice.." it seems he was the one that surprised you instead not even focusing you accidentally say "your hair looks really pretty like this.." out load, you didn't mean to. That was meant to be in your head you panic when you see caters face in shock trying to fix your wording and make it sound better only causing him to laugh and make his way to you he grabs your chin and kisses you "thank you, I'll have to wear it down more often" he say with his signature wink and smile.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x y/n #twisted wonderland x yuu #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland gn #jamil x y/n #jamil x reader #jamil x yuu #twst jamil #twisted wonderland jamil #jamil viper #cater x y/n #cater x reader #cater x yuu #twst cater #twisted wonderland cater #cater diamond

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rallamajoop · 1 year ago

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Resident Evil's Dulvey Beer

I was going to make a post about this cute little RE7 easter egg I found in Moreau's quarters in RE8, in the form of a couple of bottles of Dulvey beer (Dulvey, of course, being the part of Louisiana where RE7 takes place). But since I can apparently no longer notice a detail like this without accidentally tipping myself down an endless rabbit hole of Additional Context, there is more. Oh so much more!

So instead, lemme tell you all about the weird, probably-accidental meta-narrative of RE's Dulvey Beer, and all the best/worst things that a little innocent asset recycling can bring to your franchise.

See, those bottles of Dulvey Beer (TM) aren't (just) a callback, they're reused assets from RE7 itself. You can find more bottles bearing that logo in a number of places around the Baker estate: on the table in the living room, lying around Zoe's trailer, etc. There's even a fridge in a side-room full of them.

But if you do notice Dulvey Beer at all, it's most likely to be because a bottle is rendered in lovingly high-def on the main game screen.

Nor is RE8 the first time this particular asset has been reused. There's Dulvey beer all over the place in RE2 and 3 as well. There are bottles lying around the sewers where workmen left them. There are bottles sitting around the security station in the Umbrella lab. Those brewers over at Dulvey beer must really be doing well for themselves!

In fact, one of the earliest trailers for RE2, creatively shot from a rat's POV, opens with a close-up of a spilled bottle of everyone's favourite Louisiana beer.

And really, why not reuse it? It's a perfectly good, existing beer-bottle asset, and who's going to notice? (Me. I'm going to notice. And apparently multiple other people who were onto them from the moment that trailer first dropped.)

Moreau's far from the only Dulvey Beer enthusiast in RE8 either. You'll regularly find bottles lying around in kitchens and junk piles ‒ oft as not next to a bag of Half-Whole Flour and a carton of orange juice (being some of the other most often reused assets from this franchise).

One place you won't find any, however, is in the Winters' home. Whether Ethan used to be a beer-drinker back before post-RE7-trauma left him unable even look at the label of the world's-only-beer-brand without experiencing horrible flashbacks, I do not know. But by the time of RE8, he is clearly (as Rose observes) a wine drinker. So much a wine drinker that there are places in his home where you can see nine different bottles of wine in the same shot. (Jeebus, Ethan, there are healthier ways to deal with trauma, y'know!)

But the Winters aside, Dulvey beer is everywhere. What presumably started as an asset meant for just this one family of Louisiana hillbillies has now implicitly become the only beer sold in Raccoon City too. By RE8, Dulvey Beer's international distribution has spread so far and wide you can find bottles even in isolated villages in Eastern Europe! Forget Umbrella, the global domination of Dulvey Beer has gone well beyond anyone's wildest dreams!

Realistically, of course, what we're seeing here is simply an artifact of casual asset recycling. When every RE game since 2017 has used versions of the same engine, it'd be foolish not to borrow perfectly good assets created for previous titles. It's more than likely the team behind RE2 just grabbed the existing beer-bottle asset without even noticing the label, or that they might have inadvertently cast a backwater like Dulvey as the home of America's Favourite Beer (TM).

Most fans wouldn't notice either. Resident Evil is not exactly the kind of franchise that primes you to pay close attention to every little detail.

A little 'lazy' asset reuse can even work in a game's favour. There's only a few generic wine bottle models in RE8 (all labeled 'Regina Rose'), but given that Miranda-as-Mia states outright that she's bought them 'local wine', is it any surprise to find those same bottles throughout Dimitrescu's castle and wine cellar? (Hopefully it's one of the her non-Maiden's-Blood, low-hemoglobin-content vintages, because otherwise, yikes.) But then, where else would Miranda source her wine from?

So whether that connection was intended or just an accident of asset recuse, it's a nice little detail for the attentive gamer. (Mind you, if that same asset does appear anywhere in RE2 or 3, some questions may be warranted.)

Sadly, I am obliged to admit that I could find not a single bottle of Dulvey Beer anywhere in the Spanish territory of RE4. Unlike Eastern Europe, apparently Spain is 'foreign enough' to warrant a whole new batch of generic kitchen/storeroom assets with Spanish names, and the only beer I could find anywhere comes with a new, confusingly blank label.

You can't even really tell that the label is blank from the angles here, but believe me, I spent long enough futzing around with the photo mode from different angles to be sure.

They're so blank I couldn't even say with 100% certainty that these are meant to be beer, but I guess Capcom will be able to get away with reusing them wherever the next game is set, regardless of the local language. And at this point, I can only look on that potential future with disappointment.

Farewell, Dulvey beer! If this really is goodbye, I'll gladly pour a cold one out for you.

#Dulvey Beer #Salvatore Moreau #Resident Evil Village #Resident Evil 7 #Resident Evil 2 #Resident Evil 4 #Resident Evil #reused assets #and I don't even DRINK beer #RE assets

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majesty-madness · 2 years ago

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A Past Encounter - Bucky Barnes x reader (nsfw)

Summary: Being in a relationship with Bucky, Y/N prided herself on knowing him quite well but when she’s accidentally teleported back to 1940, Y/N discovers that there is a whole other Bucky that she has yet to meet. The sweet flirt that had everything going for him before his unfortunate capture by HYDRA.

Word Count: 4200+

Warnings: 40’s Bucky & Steve, flirty 40’s Bucky, small 40’s Steve, embarrassed Bucky & reader, angst, dreams, making coffee in 1941 (I researched it, it wasn’t as hard as I thought), secret room (?)

a/n: not proofread. Not everyone likes coffee but I’m adding it anyway

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Chapter Seven

The room was expectantly lit with the rays of the sun from outside, shining down on them. Y/N gazed lovingly at the man beside her, one flesh arm, one metal arm.

He was still in the world of sleep, not noticing her eyes on him as she traced every inch of him.

This state of being always made her heart feel so full because this was nearly the only time in which he must have been completely at peace.

Y/N couldn’t resist the smile forming across her cheeks, and then without thinking twice, she reached her hand out to gently trace her fingertips over the expanse of his bare chest.

Her eyes opened tiredly, the first thing she saw was her left hand (like in her dream) reaching out but this time instead of it being to lay softly on Bucky’s chest, she was reaching out into thin air.

She took a moment to lay exactly like that before her brain finally caught up with the present, and she retracted her hand back to herself.

It was hard to tell at first, but Y/N soon realized that she still laid on the couch inside the 40’s Brooklyn apartment.

The sun hadn’t come up quite yet with the sky a shade of dark blue, the briefest of oranges mixing into the horizon as morning approached.

Y/N raised her eyes up to the clock hanging from the wall opposite her. It read 6:30am.

The boys probably wouldn’t be up for quite some time, she thought. Especially not on a Sunday morning.

If she knew anything about anything it was the Sundays were sacred before the dreaded workweek.

Y/N turned to lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling with hands clasped over her stomach.

She lay there completely silent, almost lifeless. Her mind wandered over the details of her dream, the man she loved so dearly, his peaceful state, his closeness.

A sudden wave of grief washed over her and tears quickly rolled down her cheeks.

It had only been a few days but she missed Bucky so much. And even though he was here with her, it wasn’t the same. His love for her didn’t exist in this time, hell, she didn’t even exist. She ended up here on a whim with no control over where she’d land.

She just wanted to go home, the place she belonged wholeheartedly not stuck in the past where no one knew who she truly was or cared about her the way her friends did.

Being in the past left her feeling unease seeing as how she was not familiar with anything and it left the sickening feeling of dread to settle in the pit of her stomach. Y/N wondered how safe she actually was here.

She continued to stare up at the ceiling for a couple of more minutes before deciding she couldn’t lay down anymore. With an exhausted huff, she heaved herself up from the couch to sit up.

Honestly, she didn’t feel that much better because now she could feel the remnants of a headache coming on.

Did ibuprofen exist right now? Probably not.

Y/N stood up from the cushion, straightening her nightgown as she walked into the kitchen. She eyed the metal coffee pot sitting all alone on the back of the stove.

Right now she was trying to figure out how to successfully make coffee in 1941.

She sighed then began whatever process she could remember from making her own traditional coffee at home though not as retro.

First, she looked around the kitchen for some coffee grounds, soon finding the new tin can that Bucky bought yesterday. She pulled it out and then set it on the counter next to the pot. Then she took the lid off the pot to discover a metal filter sitting inside.

Y/N sighed a bit relieved upon realizing that making coffee wouldn’t be as hard as she thought.

She lifted the filter's own lid and poured a couple of scoops of coffee grounds inside it before sealing the top. Next was to boil water so Y/N got out a pan, filling it with water and setting it on the stove top to boil.

Since she watched Bucky turn on the stove last night, she had a good idea of how to do it herself though she couldn’t help scold herself a bit for not knowing how to in the first place.

Once the stovetop was on, Y/N stepped away from it to look out the window that overall the street down below. The sky still casted a darkened blue over the city with more dusted orange merging with it. There weren’t a lot of people out, expected for the time of morning, just a few cars passed by. Y/N figured they were probably shop owners getting ready to open up for the day.

Though the olden city felt unfamiliar to her, there existed an odd nostalgic sensation residing in her heart. Obviously, she hadn’t been born anywhere close to the forties, but it was a time period she’d always found romantic in a way; not necessarily falling in love type of romantic or not just that, but also a sense of gratitude and togetherness that was difficult to find in her time.

And it was true that a good chunk of the forties was captured by the fears of war, a war that hadn’t happened yet. Still, in Y/N’s mind, because of what had been at stake, people were more grateful for what they had. They cherished the people they had in their lives, they acted with respect, they were kinder, and loved more deeply and passionately than anyone in the 2000s.

In some twisted way, the tragedy of war made people realize what they had and what they could lose.

She often wondered why acts of suffering brought people so close together. It probably had to do with the fact that everyone could sympathize with each other’s pain, and therefore understood one another.

The human soul reaching out and touching another in love.

Curiously, Y/N glanced back to the pot sitting on top of the stove, to see if it had begun to boil yet. She couldn't quite see it from her spot by the large window a few feet from the table so she took several steps forward to get a better look.

It was easy to spot the bubbling water inside the metal pan, and Y/N quickly turned off the stove then grabbed the handle of the pan to pour the steaming water inside the coffee pot. The moment the water hit the coffee grounds, the smell wafted up and out around the kitchen.

God, the smell of fresh coffee in the mornings smelled like heaven.

Y/N rummaged through one of the cabinets sitting above the kitchen counters, pulling out an eggshell white porcelain mug. She waited another few minutes for the coffee to fully sink in and finally poured some into her cup with three sugar cubes she’d found while looking for the coffee.

Lifting the smooth edge of the cup to her lips, Y/N took a small sip; careful not to burn herself on the steaming liquid. It tasted a little more bitter than she would’ve preferred, however that didn’t stop the contented hum to echo in her throat.

The sugarcubes made the heated beverage much more tolerable, and she decided that it wasn’t anything she couldn’t get used to over time.

It had been a passing thought but it caused her to pause, beginning to analyze that statement more closely.

What was she thinking? She couldn’t stay here, especially not long enough when minor inconveniences were something she adapted to and not when Bucky and her friends were waiting for her back home. There’s no way that she would opt to stay here, she didn’t belong here; her existence didn’t belong here. Whatever her heart wanted, whatever she was feeling didn’t belong in this time to make decisions, she needed to be rational. Even though Bucky and Steve were with her now, this was a time of their lives that she had no right to witness.

She had to fix the device as soon as possible or else she’ll be stuck in the forties for God knows how long.

“Y/N?”

The sound of her name startled a gasp out of her as she whipped her head over. Bucky, in a white t-shirt and striped pajama boxers, stood just outside of his bedroom.

“Oh good morning.” Y/N greeted, letting out a relaxed breath.

With his hand tucked under the rim of his shirt, scratching his stomach, he yawned. “Good morning.”

A soft smile graced Y/N’s face as she watched a sleepy Bucky wade into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee. She continued to do so even while he attempted to rub the tiredness out of his eyes, and the way he combed his fingers through his short messy hair.

The morning version of him was a sight to behold.

“What are you doing up so early? Last time, we were up before you.” Buck asked, already taking a sip of his coffee; adding no sugar whatsoever.

Y/N sighed as she leaned her backside against the kitchen counter, opposite of him. “Well you were right, the couch isn’t very comfortable.”

Bucky snickered. “I told you.”

“I know. I didn’t want to steal your bed from you.” Y/N shrugged.

Then Bucky leaned against the counter, his body now facing Y/N. His eyes briefly wandered over her form in her white nightgown, taking note of the edge resting just below her knees and the thick straps barely covering her shoulders.

“We’ll have to figure out your sleeping situation then, since you won’t take my bed and the couch will probably turn you into a human pretzel.”

Y/N quietly laughed. “Yeah, I suppose I’d rather stay the way I am, thank you.”

Bucky hummed in agreement. There was a requisite pause between the two, eyes occasionally up to the other, making unusually long eye contact and awkwardly looking away.

It lasted a mere few minutes, but Y/N didn’t want it to be awkward anymore so she walked away. “The city looks quite nice in the mornings. Peaceful.”

“Yeah, it does.” Bucky engaged in the subject change, walking over to stand at Y/N’s side as she looked out the window. “No matter how long I’ve lived in New York, there are some things that never get old.”

Though Y/N felt his presence beside her, she made no attempt to look at him. “I’m sure. The quiet of the mornings makes everything seem so tranquil.”

She took another drink of coffee, knocking back what remained even if it burned a bit.

Bucky had glimpsed out at the city, but his focus was on the woman standing next to him. He didn't know why, there was something about her that made him stop everything to look at her. There was no question that she was attractive, but wasn’t only that. The way she spoke, acted, conducted herself around others struck a chord in him. A chord he didn’t realize existed.

Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself.

“Do you want some more?” He suddenly asked when he saw her cup was now empty.

Y/N looked down to see for herself that she drank what was left in her cup before handing it over to him. “Oh, yes please.”

Bucky set his own cup down on the table then shortly thereafter, took Y/N’s cup from her hand to walk back to the kitchen.

She watched him leave her side, the warmth of his presence floating away from her cold skin the farther away he got. Bringing up one of her hands, she began to rub it up and down her arm to ease the cold and hopefully warm herself up all the while her eyes drifted around the room.

There wasn’t anything she was looking for specifically, more like she was trying to distract herself with whatever the environment had to offer.

Nothing caught her eye, until she saw a stack of books resting on the shelf attached to the wall, near the front door. One book in particular peaked her interest. Across the spine of the book laid a single word, “Astronomy.”

While the word itself didn’t strike any interest per say, rather the category of said word was what drew her attention.

It was then she realized that the subject of science itself may help her understand the device in which she kept hidden within her sweater. And where would there be a plethora of knowledge she would have easy access to?

“Do you want any sugar in your coffee?” Bucky’s voice echoed from the kitchen.

Y/N snapped her attention back to the man that stood by the stove. “Uh, yes.”

“How many sugar cubes do you want?”

“Three is fine.” It didn’t take long when Bucky stepped out, and headed over to her; a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

“Here you go.” He handed off the cup to her and she carefully took it back.

“Thank you.” She nodded, immediately taking a sip.

Bucky leaned over again to pick his own cup from the dining table, standing back by the table instead of at Y/N’s side.

“This is off topic, but..is there a library near here by chance?” Y/N asked.

She saw Bucky’s eyes shift to the side as he thought about it. “Um, there’s one about a fifteen minute walk from here. Why?”

Y/N shrugged once more while lifting her cup to her lips. “I figured I need something to do while you and Steve are at work.”

“Oh that’s right. Yeah, you’d get pretty bored around here.” BUcky sighed at the realization he had to go to work tomorrow.

“And I thought I’d see if they have any job openings.” Y/N added.

Bucky clicked his tongue at her words. “You know you don’t have to work if you don’t want to.”

“I want to. It’s the right thing to do, especially since you’ve been taking care of me the last few days.” She reasoned as she took a step closer to him, leaning against one of the dining chairs.

“I’ll take care of you for as long as you want me to.”

A heat rushed to Y/N’s cheeks as the words sunk in. She stared, dumbfounded at him a few seconds, her mouth opening and closing as she tried to find the words. “Thank you.”

Bucky knew how that sounded coming from him and immediately back tracked. “I-I mean you know with the normal everyday stuff and what not.”

Y/N nodded. “Y-yeah, I-I uh.. I knew what you meant.”

“Um..” Bucky nervously stuttered while rubbing the back of his neck, his skin turning red from the friction. “Anyway, I’m going to take a shower. I’ll leave you to it.”

“Yeah, okay.”

They both fiddled in their respective spots before Bucky left his mug on the table and quickly ventured off to the bathroom.

When he shut the door completely, Y/N rested her cheek in the palm of her hand, taking note of how hot her face had become.

________

Y/N stood by the front door, straightening out her sweater, and the device hidden in her pocket. “I’m heading to the library now.”

Bucky sat at the dining table, still eating his breakfast while Steve sat on the couch, sketch pad in his lap.

“Be careful.” Steve said, looking up at her.

She smiled. “I will.” Then her gaze jumped over to Bucky who still seemed slightly embarrassed from earlier. To be honest, so was she.

“I’ll see you guys a little later.” She bid them, then headed out the door.

After his shower earlier, Bucky explained how to get to the library from their apartment; stay on the left sidewalk of the apartments, head down until she saw a post office at the corner, then turn left and the library should be there.

She followed the instructions and sure enough, fifteen minutes later, she arrived at the aforementioned building. The structure of it was bigger than she anticipated, seeing as how most of the stores and shops she passed were relatively small in size.

Though taking a longer look at the other buildings surrounding the library, she could see this was most likely the beginnings of the more popular area where everyone shopped.

Y/N walked up the three stairs to the front door and walked inside. The first she saw was the wide front desk with the glossy wooden archways on both sides of it, each side leading to a different section of the building with a couple of steps leading up. She peered to the sections, seeing the rows and rows of tall bookshelves leading all the way to the back of the building. On top of that, she could make out the designated sitting area, wooden tables and chairs lined against the beige walls where the bigger windows sat with the flooring covered in a thin gray carpet.

It was beautiful in the most rustic way, the type of aesthetic that she greatly appreciated.

Y/N actually took a second to admire the layout of the organized library, stepping up to the front desk a few moments later.

Behind the desk was a woman, probably about Y/N’s age. “Excuse me?”

The woman looked up from behind her thick lens glasses, setting down a book she had been busy reading. She presented a lovely smile, her hair pulled back in a professional bun. “How can I help you?”

Y/N politely smiled back. “Yeah, hi, I was wondering where the science section was?”

“Are you looking to check out?” The woman asked.

“No, I’m just browsing.”

The woman then stood up and walked out from around her desk, heading over to the archway to her left. She pointed to it, “Heading through there, then walk all the way to the back; most of the science books are against the wall. Look for the plaques, they have all the categories on them.”

Y/N nodded. “Thank you so much.”

“You are very welcome.” The lady smiled then walked back to the desk to sit down.

Y/N walked up the two steps into the section the lady pointed out, heading right to the back of the library. On the way there, she passed a number of different subjects like history, art, medicine, and so on. Eventually she arrived at the back, and saw all the different sciences that this library had to offer.

Now the question was, which type of science did she need to research?

At first, Y/N didn’t see any categories that would be right in looking for information on her device, those categories being: behavioral sciences, botany, health, and biology. She really hoped they had more subjects than that, and she was proven right when she turned around another section of books to find what she was looking for.

There were the subjects of engineering, mathematics, physics, and a numerous amount of subjects that might actually provide relevant information.

She continued taking a look around the area, getting familiar with the arrangement of the library. The amount of books seemed infinite as the shelves stretched on, and she followed the path they took and as she did so, she began to pass another, smaller section of the building that broke off into a hallway.

Her feet stopped right at the entrance of the hall, eyes peering down it to see all she could see.

Curiosity struck her and she couldn’t help the desire to know what was back there so she broke off from the shelves and headed down the hallway. The hall itself was not long, maybe ten feet in length, lined with a couple of doors on each side; nothing too noteworthy. But it wasn’t until she reached the end of the hall that something caused her to perk up.

At the end of said hall, to Y/N’s right, there was a subsection leading downward in another hallway. This one was much smaller, probably barely able to fit two people shoulder to shoulder, and a few steps down was another door.

This other section was easy to miss if you weren’t actively looking for it, had Y/N not been so curious, she wouldn’t have known it was even there.

Though before stepping into that hall, she took a glance back from the area she just came from. There wasn’t anyone around, and since it was still fairly early in the morning, Y/N figured it'd be okay to explore a bit.

After determining the coast was clear, Y/N stepped forward, heading to the single door in the smaller hallway. Upon closer inspection, she could see that this particular door was barely used. From what she could tell based on all the other doors she saw, the doorknob was old but hardly touched. The coat on this doorknob hadn’t been worn out by a number of hands grabbing onto it and then there was the keyhole which looked as though it hadn’t been changed or replaced in a long while, it’s possible there might not be a key for it at all.

There was also the state of the door itself, the finish of the door looked dry and cracked almost. Clearly this part of the building had been long forgotten.

Suddenly an idea popped into Y/N’s head; what if she used this room to fix her device?

Yes, it was a public building and yes, people were going to be coming in and out but she was going to need a private space anyway so why not a forgotten part of a library? Depending on the state of the inside, she could use this room whenever she needed in order to repair the device to its original working state.

Y/N looked up at the exit to the hall, quietly listening for the sound of footsteps or any other distinguishing sound of a person coming. Several seconds passed and nothing, and with that Y/N plucked her hair pin from her head and bent down.

Now on her knees, she stuck the pin inside the lock, strategically fiddling with the worn out locking mechanism. It took a few seconds of fidgeting with it, but with her experience, Y/N was able to open it without being noticed.

She quickly stood back up, grabbing a hold of the doorknob to twist and push the door inward.

The door made a creaking sound causing Y/N to pause for a moment, then she opted to squeeze her way through the small crack in the door she managed to open. Once inside, she carefully closed the door, with one hand on the door and the other on the doorknob. It didn’t make another sound until it clicked back into the lock and Y/N then locked it back up to keep from anyone coming in if they got suspicious enough.

It was dark, but not pitch black.

On the opposite wall, there was a small, rectangular window covered by a thin curtain struggling to keep out the sunlight. With what light there was available, Y/N could make out the contents of the room.

There were stacks of boxes lining the left side, covered with white sheets, turning a yellowish color from not being washed. A single table sat in the center, it too covered by a sheet, with no chairs sitting by it except for the few in the corner, which were missing a couple of their legs.

Besides those chairs were several stacks of old newspapers and journals, tied together with a thin string and a tool box next to it.

There wasn’t much to the room at all which made it the perfect place for privacy.

Y/N took another once over of the room before looking around for a light switch. On the same wall as the door, there was the light switch; blackened metal and peeling paint.

She flipped the switch up, causing a single light from above to flicker and struggle before staying on consistently paired with the buzzing of electricity through the bulb.

While the light was dull, it still helped to light the room, making it much easier to navigate.

Y/N finally took a step forward, toward the table, letting her fingers briefly trace over the scratchy material of the sheet covering it before grasping a corner, and ripping it away. The dust coating the sheet floated dramatically into the air, the sunlight revealing every speck that had been disturbed. She waved the dust from her face, eyes squinting a bit though never fully closing. Instead she kept eying the table, noticing it looked as old as the rest of the room but no less sturdy even with its scratched surface.

It was a few seconds later that she let the covering fall to the floor, once again looking around the room to take in every detail, every crack in the wall, every piece of peeling paint, every microscopic speck of dust.

It was perfect.

To fix the device, she needed absolute privacy and this room definitely provided that.

After all, what’s more secret than a lost room in the back of a library?

________

Tagged profiles

@honeyrydernot @spn-obession

#marvel #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #female reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series #winter soldier #winter soldier x reader

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magicdefendorwolf · 2 years ago

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Ah, a fellow person of culture.

If I may be so bold, I would like to request platonic Jing Yuan & Yanqing relationship headcanons.

Or platonic Yanqing x Reader. I’m not picky.

I just want some adorable friendship with my favourite character.

Father and son;Being his best friend

I decided to do both in one post

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jing yuan and Yanqing(platonic)

Jign Yuan is so protective over Yanqing

Istg each and every single time Yanqing wants somethingmost likely a new sword he gives his father the puppy eyes hoping that he wont refuse

Most of the time Jing Yuan gives in because he has a soft spot for his son and finds it hard to say no to him

Istg Jing Yuan is the sunshine protector,like there's the sunshine and the sunshine's protector yk? Thats their dynamic

Yanqing is an orange chaotic cat and has tons of energy and Jing Yuan just stands there calmly sipping his tea while Yanqing runs around trying to find something

"My son is such a well behaved and careful child" Jing Yuan would say meanwhile his son bought his 100th sword,almost tripped and almost fell over from atleast two different railings, accidentally got a bunch of bees angry at him and is currently running from them and just got home looking like he was about to become the next jungleman

I mean he is well behaved,but careful? Totally,but somehow still ends up in weird situations

Yanqing is quite chaotic and does alot of things by accident

Tingyun adopted Yanqing as her nephew and buys him a new sword from time to time and Jing Yuan just wonders from where tf did his son pull out a new sword from

(Sorry i dont have too many hcs here)

Yanqing and reader(platonic)

Ill start this off by saying you two share a braincell

Somehow,you two end up having the stupidest debates,an outsider will nethier laugh,or wonder how you started talking about that topic

You two have inside jokes and always end up laughing until your stomaches hurt

You two cannot focus when you are together for the life of you

If you were to be in the middle of something important and you were to look at each other,even just a slight glance would send you both into a laughing fit

And even if you're not looking at eachother you'd still burst out laughing at the same time

He takes you to see his collection of swords whether you like it or not

Whenever ya'll hangout Jing Yuan can just pray you two wont do some dumb stuffeven thought you will most definetly do some stupid things

If you two dont see eachother for more than 2 days ya'll gon act like its been an eternity

Istg you two together are a dangerous duo because of your persuasive powers,like if Yanqing wants a new blade and you two go up to Jing Yuan to pursue him into buying Yanqing a new blade he's getting that new blade

You two definetly tried to fake an argument in public just for the heck of it and then burst out laughing instead

The locals were so confused

Jing Yuan is happy he already has white hair cause otherwise you two would have turned his hair white

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

I hope this is what you had in mind<3

#headcannons #hcs #platonic #honkai star rail #yanqing hsr #jing yuan hsr

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cceanvvaves · 1 year ago

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camping; y.jy

(moved to isanggayfrog) warning: swearing

The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky with vivid reds and oranges, completed with tints of pink. A black truck made its way through the narrow road, stopping a good distance away from the busy part of the beach.

You and your girlfriend of 2 months, Jeongyeon, had decided a few weeks ago to go camping for two nights. You two had chosen this place since it had a perfect view of the sky, and planned to watch the sunset and stare at the stars.

The bright light briefly blinded you, shining on your eyes and making them glow. Jeongyeon placed her warm hand on your thigh comfortingly, eyes still focused on the road.

Once arriving, you set up quickly, putting up the tent and fixing anything else you might need. The sun was almost on its lowest point now, and you wanted to see that.

Jeongyeon pulled you closer to the sea, her fingers wrapped around your own. You rented two surfboards from a kindly man in his late 20s. Then, pulling off your pants to avoid wetting them, set out to the water. Not too near the beach to be able to float, but not so far that the waves could bring you away.

"Wow, pretty," you heard your girlfriend whisper. Smirking, you decided to flirt. "You're prettier though," you splashed water on her. She kicked you back, almost upending your board. You pushed her, giggling, but accidentally causing her to fall off.

Spluttering, Jeongyeon glared at you with her hair plastered to her face. "I didn't push you that hard!"

"Sorry!"

Too late, she'd abandoned her board and was wading toward you. You hurried off yours, hoping to swim away, but she caught you by the waist and forced you under.

"Fuck!" you shouted, wiping the water from your face. "Salt water doesn't taste good, you know!"

"Deserve!"

Getting an idea, you got close to her. She prepared herself for an attack, but was totally surprised when you kissed her full on the mouth instead.

She wasn't complaining though, she grabbed you by the hips and responded energetically. You could still taste the salt on her slightly chapped lips. You wrapped your legs around her waist, desperate to get closer.

Her tongue darted out of her mouth and licked your bottom lip, causing you to gasp and allowing her entrance.

Sadly, you needed air to live, so you pulled away.

It was almost dark now. You punched her arm. She furrowed her eyebrows, confused. "Ow?!"

"You made me miss the sunset!"

"You were the one who kissed me!"

Sticking your tongue at her, you pulled her in for another kiss. Well, there was always tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

After you took a bath, you bought instant ramen from the nearby convenience store. What? Ramen is delicious.

You sat in the back seat, slurping noisily and warming your hand up with the soup. The stars weren't very bright tonight, but there were some visible ones. You wished you'd brought Scout, your dog, because he loved traveling too. But, you left him with your mother, hoping for some alone time with your girlfriend.

"Not gonna lie, I kinda miss Scout," Jeongyeon said.

Same thoughts. Maybe you really were soulmates.

"That's what I was thinking," you murmured, trying to get a small piece of noodle stuck on the bottom of the cup.

"Maybe we are soulmates, then," she joked. You almost threw your chopsticks. "What the fuck, I was just thinking that!"

Can she read minds?

"Maybe I can read your mind."

You actually threw your slipper at her. "Shut up now, you're freaking me out."

Laughing, she threw the slipper back at you. "I'm heading in early. Come quickly, I wanna cuddle."

You shook your head happily, breathing in the fresh, clean air. It was definitely a good idea to come here.

#twice #gn!reader #female!reader #jeongyeon x reader #yoo jeongyeon #twice imagines

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birbleafs · 11 months ago

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[ficlet] fusion perversions

Series: Genshin Impact Characters/Pairing: Kavetham Rating: Gen Summary: Kaveh and Haitham discuss the unholy matrimony of bizarre food combinations. A/N: A short writing practice based on Liz's tweet-prompt: "Haitham was the kind of gremlin in uni who would buy a whole pack of instant fried noodles and then proceed to 'improve' them with the wildest combinations (like yakisoba with strawberry jam)." Can also be read on AO3. ※※※ If anything, Kaveh should have known better; should have foreseen even this. He’s been best friends with Haitham for the longest time, after all. And while he loathes to admit it truthfully in the presence of others, he and Haitham do know each other best—even if he can never claim to fully comprehend the logic and sensibility (or lack thereof) behind the demented inner workings of the man’s prodigious intellect. "Pineapple on pizza?” Kaveh scoffs, repulsed by the very idea. “Hmph, you truly are a heathen sometimes.” "Pineapple glazed ham is a perfectly serviceable taste for Christmas,” Haitham counters evenly, seemingly unruffled. “So, what makes this combination suddenly unacceptable when it's on pizza?" "That's different! This is like you baking that leftover clam chowder into a crisp in the oven and calling Shepherd's pie!!" "I read the recipe for that in a book once—it's called Fisherman's pie, actually." “Ugh, just stop. That’s not what Fisherman’s pie is supposed to look like…” Kaveh trails off, thinking back to that time he’d forced Haitham into Burger King for dinner as punishment for forgetting to wash the dishes that week. Haitham had sulkily chewed away at his burnt burger when he had abruptly decided that French fries went quite well with their vanilla sundae shake… Kaveh coughs into a fist then, shaking off the ugly memory of Haitham wolfing down fries dipped in vanilla sundae. “A-Anyway! You’re hereby banned from further cooking duties for the month. You can take out the trash instead!” The next day, he returns home to see Haitham lounging comfortably on the sofa with a book in one hand (normal) and a pair of chopsticks in another hand (… weird, but okay, Haitham didn’t seem to dislike the Chinese takeouts Kaveh had brought home the last couple of times, so). Haitham glances up from his reading when he hears Kaveh shrugging off his coat, never taking his eyes off Kaveh’s questioning look as he slowly lifts his hand. Kaveh scowls at what looks like a freaking potato chip perfectly balanced between Haitham’s chopsticks, only to frown harder when his roommate reaches towards the coffee table to scoop up—Is that… salsa? Oh god, that is salsa, what the actual fuc—some store-bought salsa from an opened jar. “Salsa and Ruffles potato chips?” Kaveh looks like he’s ready to have an aneurysm, veins bulging almost comically at his temples. “Really? No, really?! Salsa and Ruffles potato chips?!” Haitham only shrugs nonchalantly, dipping another potato chip into the salsa jar with his chopsticks. “We ran out of tortillas. I think the chips would have gone well with some guacamole too, but I’d already finished the last avocado with toast this morning.” “Salsa and Ruffles potato chips.” Kaveh is still pinching the bridge of his nose as he processes this latest fusion perversion. He flops down beside his roommate on the sofa, crinkling his nose in distaste. “Next thing I know you’d be eating cornflakes with orange juice.” Haitham’s expression turns contemplative, before he brightens and opens his mouth. “What about with apple jui—” “No,” Kaveh snaps tersely, even as he begrudgingly chomps down on the salsa-dipped chip that Haitham presses to his lips with the chopsticks. “Absolutely not.” Haitham’s smirk is barely discernible as he hums softly with amusement. (Thankfully, they had bacon, eggs and toast the next morning like normal people; Kaveh could almost forgive Haitham for accidentally adding salt into his yogurt fruit cup.)

—End— ______ - This was written a couple of weeks back. I just edited and brushed it up for posting. I always find it amusing how Haitham is both stoic and yet low-key calculated feral when he chooses to be lol. Something Wrong (affectionate, derogatory) with this man ❤︎‬

#genshin impact #kavetham #kaveh #alhaitham #al-haitham #fanfic #i always have to thank liz for inspiring my feral kvthm keysmashing lol

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nekomancy813 · 4 months ago

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Chapter 6:

𝒹ₑₜₐₙ𝓰ₗₑ.・。.・゜✭・

It's been 3 years; seasons have passed by into June, the hottest summer season in all of Ooo! Hisui has grown quite accustomed to her new bedroom!

Snacking on some nice cold strawberry mochi watching out the window. Quietly waiting..

BMO waits with Hisui, playing some video games on her bed.

Meanwhile downstairs, Finn just came back home after running some early morning henchmen errands for Marceline.

“Jake! BMO! Hisui! I'm home!!”

Finn announced happily.

His blue t-shirt is drenched in sweat from running a lot in the summer heat. He plopped himself on the red couch catching his breath, then noticed a little orange sticky note from Jake that reads..

“ᗪᗴᗩᖇ ᖴIᑎᑎ,

ᗯᗴᒪᑕOᗰᗴ ᗷᗩᑕK ᕼOᗰᗴ ᗪᑌᗪᗴ!

I ᕼOᑭᗴ YOᑌᖇ ᕼᗴᑎᑕᕼᗰᗩᑎ ᗪᑌTIᗴՏ ᗯITᕼ Tᕼᗴ ᐯᗩᗰᑭIᖇᗴ ᑫᑌᗴᗴᑎ ᗯᗴᑎT ᗯᗴᒪᒪ!

ՏOᖇᖇY I'ᗰ ᑎOT ᗩT Tᕼᗴ TᖇᗴᗴᕼOᑌՏᗴ, I'ᗰ ᐯIՏITIᑎᘜ ᒪᗩᗪY ᖇᗩIᑎᗩᑕOᖇᑎ TOᗪᗩY ՏO I ᗯOᑎ'T ᗷᗴ ᗷᗩᑕK ᑌᑎTIᒪ ᒪᗩTᗴᖇ Iᑎ Tᕼᗴ ᗴᐯᗴᑎIᑎᘜ. ᗷᗴ Tᕼᗴ ᑕᕼᗴᖴ ᖴOᖇ Տᑌᑭᑭᗴᖇ TOᑎIᘜᕼT OK ᗷᖇO?

ᑭ. Տ)

ՏTᗩY ᑕOOᒪ, ᗷᗴᑕᗩᑌՏᗴ IT'Տ ᘜOᑎᑎᗩ ᘜᗴT ᕼOT!

ᒍᗩKᗴ 🐾”

“Aw cotton balls. I guess I won't be seeing Jake until later then..”

Finn puts the sticky note back on the dining table, then goes in the kitchen to see if there's any food left in the fridgerator.

Unfortunately, there's nothing in the fridge except ice bags.

“Fumbledor donkz! There's nothing to eat?? Ughhh! I have to go back out to the market..”

Finn lets out a depleting sigh as he slumps down into the couch tiredly closing his eyes.

“Man.. I'm only 15 and running errands!?

bruhhh..”

After an hour of napping, Finn suddenly heard some bags rustling in the kitchen!

He opens his eyes to find Hisui wearing a blue kawaii face mask, a black muscle tankie, and jean overalls.

Standing in front of a pretty star portal, filling up the fridge with delectable foods as BMO sits in her front pocket giggling.

Finn’s was so speechless that all he could think was..

𝘏𝘰𝘭𝘺 Schmowzow!!

Hisui finishes reorganizing the food into the fridge, looking back at Finn with happy eyes.

Then with a quick echoing snap of her fingers, the portal closes.

Finn immediately gets up flabbergasted!

“Hisui..! Why didn't you tell me you can summon a portal?? What the hay hayz dudette?!”

BMO speaks in Hisui's defense.

“It's okay Finn! Please don't be mad at Hisui she only did it because I told her to-..”

Hisui quietly hushes Bmo as she spoke up instead.

“I'm sorry.. When me & BMO overheard your distressing exhaustion of being in a tight bind with food it triggered something in me, so I guess I managed to summon a portal into my room that leads out to the food market village..?-.”

BMO quickly cuts in.

“... So to avenge your exhaustion, me and MommaCat finished the errands! We went on a shopping spree adventure!!

We bought some fresh loaves of bread, some cold cut meats,cheeses, and other condiments. A sorted variety of chips and ice cream. Lastly, I grabbed some take-out tacos for lunch!”

Hisui walks up to Finn and gives him a neatly tied bag filled with tacos and burritos!

“.. They had Heroic meal deal bargain; so I got us a big bag full”

Finn holds the taco bag shocked; then asks..

“How'd you guys purchase all this food without paying for it? You guys didn't steal, did you..?”

Hisui shook her head no.

“I accidentally traumatized an alley thug who seemed to be trying to rob a lady coming out of my portal.."

BMO elbows into convo again "Then after the robber fled the scene we find out that the lady happens to be The mayor’s daughter!

Hisui pets BMO then says..

"Yeah she seriously insists on compensating me for saving her life on account of almost getting jumped”

BMO giggles some more.

“The robber was so scared of Momma cat, he peed his pantaloons!”

Hisui's long elven ears droop down in embarrassment.

"Am I really that scary to other people..?"

Finn slowly smiles, for he couldn't stay upset at BMO's cute smolness, Hisui's heartwarming generosity.. Also the fact that Hisui is showing signs of self-discovery and improvement of her powers!

“Hisui, BMO.. You guys are the best..! Also you're not scary at all Hisui; that punk is nothin' more than a cowardly noob!”

Finn gets up to bear-hug them both in his arms

BMO immediately squirms out of the hug gasping for air..

“Finn! HisuI you guys need to bathe!! You sweaty skunks!!!”

In sudden realization, both Hisui & Finn smelled each other quickly separating, squealing in panicky, voice-cracking embarrassment!

Hisui's fluffy blue hair stands on end as she hilariously, subconsciously pushes Finn (with his pubescent screaming) into the bathroom!

Holding a clean batch of clothes and shower stuff; slamming the door behind him in the process as Hisui sped back in her room screaming..

“OUR STaNK SECRETIONS WERE TOUCHING!!!! AND I SMELLED HIM!! AAaaAIiiIiiEeeEeaaH!!!!!”

❀✾✿❀✾✿❀✾☆☆☆☆♡★★★★✾✿❀✾✿❀✾✿

45 minutes later after showering, Finn sits on the edge of his bed brushing his long golden blonde hair silently embarrassed, blushing a deep red in his cheeks.

BMO chills on top of the washing machine guarding Finn & Hisui's clothes as they're being washed.

Also eating a taco in the take-out bag giggling as the washing machine vibrates.

“ₜₕᵢᵢᵢᵢᵢₛ ᵢₛ ₛₛₛₒₒₒₒₒₒₒₒₒₒₒ ₘₐₐₐₐₐₐₜₕₕₕₕ ₕₕₕₐₐₐₐₐₐₐₐₐₐₕₕₐₐₐₕ!”

The bathroom door opens as Hisui walks out with her tail swishing behind her. (Finn let her borrow one of his clean blue shirts to wear underneath her overalls.)

She squeaks in pain, struggling to get her fingers out of her wet, knotty locks.

“Ow.. Uggg! Freaking knotty abominations..!”

Noticing her pain, Finn hurriedly walks over to her with his hair brush. "Here, lemme help you out with those knots!”

Finn takes Hisui by the hand, sitting behind her on his bed.

He cleaned out his brush, then gently ran his fingers through, holding Hisui's hair out like a ponytail.

“I'm gonna tighten my grip on your hair a little bit okay?”

Hisui cutely nods as she feels Finn's hand slowly tighten his hold on her hair. Feeling him firmly hold her hair in place, softly brushing her hand free from the knots.

Hisui's burns up a bright tickled pink on her face, to the tips of her lopey ears lost in her racing thoughts..

𝘍𝘪𝘯𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭'𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳!

𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦..

𝘐 𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩, 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰. 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘰𝘶𝘴 and 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯!

“Y-You know Hisui.. Seeing your hair this knotty, I don't think you've been brushing your hair much have you..?”

Finn lightly leans on Hisui looking over her shoulder in cute concern still brushing her.

Hisui shyly hugs her legs, wrapping her fluffy tail around herself ashamed.

“Y-Yeah.. You're right Finn… I was so focused on shopping for you guys, I forgot to get a hairbrush for myself at the market..”

Finn wraps his arms around Hisui. Lifting her up giving her a big warm squooze; making her tail wag in revived happiness.

Mumbling only for her to hear

“I understand how you are now..

You're just like me, you love helping others!

So let's make a deal..

Next time, howz about me and you go have our first adventure to get some stuff that you like!

In exchange me and Jake can train you so you'd be strong enough to handle your powers better. Sounds good?”

Finn tucks some hair behind Hisui's ear.

She looks up at him as her pupils dilate with sparkly stars in her eyes.

“..that sounds awesomely math, Mertens.. !”

She responds back coyly

Finn gladly nuzzles his cheek against Hisui, both feeling a deep connection building from within as they stare deeply in each other's eyes once more.

Suddenly, Hisui feels a sharp pain tinge through her pinnacle!

Her whole body glitches in reaction to the pain. But suddenly paused..?

Hisui hugs Finn tight; awkwardly startled.

She looks at her hand, watching her veins glow up a luminescent dark bluish violet.

As a memory quickly flickers inside of her mind!

Inside of her memory scape..

Voices of screaming people echo loud throughout Hisui's mind, her heart sank down to its core. Feeling more drops of familiar unleashed fear darkening and closing on her fast!

She stood in a yellow cubicle room infront of a tall, pinkish godly being! With shaken bloody legs, wearing nothing but tattered rags and a broken rusty chain heavily weighing on her ankles. Her eyes were damp, burning from crying so many tears..

The pink ethereal being comforts her with his powerful, reassuring words!

“ꫀׁׁׅܻׅ݊᥎ׁׅꫀׁׅܻ݊ꭈׁׅᨮׁׅ֮tׁׅhׁׅ֮ꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅ݊ꪀᧁׁ ᨰׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅᥣׁׅ֪ᥣׁׅ֪ ֮ϐׁꫀׁׅܻ݊ ᨵׁׅׅƙׁׅɑׁׅᨮׁׅ֮ hׁׅ֮ꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅׅ꯱υׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅ.. ܻ⨍ᨵׁׅׅꭈׁׅ ꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅ ɑׁׅꩇׁׅ֪݊

℘ꭈׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅׅ꯱ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ᨵׁׅׅ tׁׅhׁׅ֮ꫀׁׅܻ݊ ᧁׁꭈׁׅɑׁׅ݊ꪀժׁׅ݊ ᨰׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅׅ꯱hׁׅ֮ ꩇׁׅ֪݊ ɑׁׅׅ꯱tׁׁׅׅꫀׁׅܻ݊ꭈׁׅ!

ᨮׁׅ֮ᨵׁׅׅυׁׅꭈׁׅ ֮ϐׁꫀׁׅܻ݊ɑׁׅυׁׅtׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅܻ⨍υׁׅᥣׁׅ֪ ᨰׁׅꪱׁׁׁׅׅׅׅ꯱hׁׅ֮ hׁׅ֮ɑׁׅׅ꯱ ֮ϐׁꫀׁׅܻ݊ꫀׁׅܻ݊݊ꪀ ᧁׁꭈׁׅɑׁׅ݊ꪀtׁׅꫀׁׅܻ݊ժׁׅ݊!!”

Hisui suddenly snaps back to the present as she awakens to Finn shaking her, calling out her name..!

“Hisui! H-Hey!!

What's happening to you??

What's going on!!?”

Hisui weakly says

“I had a memory..”

Finn's eyes widened in shock

“You remembered something..From your past right?”

He scoots close next to her on his bed, intrigued to hear more.

“Y-Yeah it was a past memoir but.. It was intense..! I saw myself as if I was a survivor of an apocalyptic event; sitting in this yellow orangish room with Prismo the Wish Master..?”

Hisui rubs the back of her neck anxiously.

“Prismo huh? Interesting.. Jake told me that he's friends with one.But I think he forgot to mention his name to me..

Hmmm so Prismo is who Jake was talking about..”

Finn firmly pinches his lips together as he thinks out loud to himself.

Hisui boops Finn on his forehead.

“It's probably best not to ponder too deep on it for now..

Besides we should go make supper before Mr. Butternubbz (a.k.a Jake) gets back”

She stood up aloof on Finn's bed, then steps off of it. Climbing down the ladder without saying another word; Finn follows behind her attempting to playfully icebreak.

“You're right Neko baby, let's go make an awesome dinner for everyone together!”

Finn watches Hisui pause stepping down the wooden steps

“Wait..”

Hisui processes Finn's playful remark.. Her face quickly beams a bright shade of tomato red!

“Finn!! I thought I was Momma Cat? Now I'mma Neko baby??!”

Finn laughs hysterically at Hisui's cute flustered reaction. Then smugly corrects her again.

"To BMO you're Momma Cat. But..To me you're a Smol. Neko. Baby!”

Hisui silently stares at Finn for a straight minute then quickly grabs one of his bed pillows, chasing Finn down the ladder, both laughing into the kitchen.

“Oh yea? Well if I'm Neko baby.. Then you're Grizzly Polar Bear Mertens!!”

#fanart #adventure time fanfic #finn the human #oc ship #oc #jake the dog

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mxddyhero · 1 year ago

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Now I’m curious, any interesting hcs you have for juba?👁️👁️

wAH! I have a couple posts here and here with some general hcs, but I have more now :3c he truly lives rent free in my mind like it's the tomodachi apartment building...

Once when he was a kid and he got a cake for his birthday, he just. Didn't wait for a slice and just bit into the top of the cake. His mum had to slice around the bitemark for his piece and then explained to him gently after that you're supposed to wait for the cake to be cut.

The tips of his ears go red when he blushes btw. If you even care <3

Using those fruit scented highlighters when studying/annotating scripts genuinely helps him. Strawberry is character related, grape is an important story beat, banana is stuff he's unsure of/wants to ask tsuzuru about and orange is related to action/blocking/general on-stage stuff.

Omi has a printed binder full of juza's favourite desserts that he's made organised by: how much he enjoyed them; which is best to match to his mood; time and ease to make and; budget (sakyo made him add that last one). Juza doesn't know about this.

Somehow doesn't burn, tan or get freckles regardless of whether he wears sunscreen or not.

Once when he was young and wanted to make a tart for his mum, he accidentally bought savoury pre-made pastry instead of sweet, but he just covered it in cream and jam and hoped for the best. Momma hyodo still ate her slice and let him have the rest (he loved it).

I'll never shut up about juza being chubby after he gets comfortable with mankai because he doesn't have to hide his sweet habit and he doesn't have to fight nearly as much... like he's still in shape bcs he has to do action scenes... but tummy... somft... <33

#THANK U FOR ASKING LC I HOPE THESE ARENT TOO MUCH AAA 👉👈#beloved mutual #lc-is-bored #juza hyodo #a3! act! addict! actors!

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the-haunted-office · 9 months ago

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A man who looks like he was assembled at a spare parts factory comes strolling into the Haunted Office followed by about two dozen men who all look like they could be named Stanley.

The two dozen or so men are all named Stanley, although the first man was not assembled at a spare parts factory, he just looks strange.

He wears his long light brunet hair back in a ponytail, holding it away from a pale face inlaid with inquisitive yet mismatched eyes - one green and the other brown. His wardrobe is what's the most offensive, for he adorns a black and white polka dot shirt, a black and white plaid vest, a black and white pair of striped pants, and one black shoe alongside one white shoe. One might easily confuse him with a walking kaleidoscope.

This walking kaleidoscope strolls into the Office and, despite having a crowd of Stanleys right behind him, begins calling out, "Stanley! Stanley! Are you here?"

The Parable of Stanleys gathered behind him have all started to goggle at their surroundings, at the unfamiliar carpet and walls. This carpet is different - an actual design on it instead of that ugly puke orange from their Offices. And the walls, those are different too, painted different colors, and the paintings all look like they're actually worth something as opposed to something that was bought en masse at the local dollar store, on sale.

It only takes a second for a voice identical to the mismatched man's to come on over the intercom, only this voice sounds just a tad bit more annoyed. And flummoxed.

"...What in the ever-loving HELL is all this?!" Cyrus growls in demand.

The Stanleys all simultaneously turn their heads upwards, blinking, then look back to the mismatched man and blink some more.

The kaleidoscope also blinks at the ceiling. "Ah, we've been discovered by this Office's Narrator. Hello! We are searching for my Stanley! Might you have seen him?"

"...You're going to have to be a little more specific than 'your Stanley'. There are quite a few of them in existence, as I'm sure you are aware," is Cyrus' pointed reply, given the gathering of Stanleys now going around and opening doors.

"Ah, yes, quite right," the mismatched kaleidoscope agrees. "My Stanley has shortish black hair to about here," he says, gesturing to about his ears, "black eyes, black glasses, typical office attire, rather nerdy. He didn't speak either, at least not until later, for some reason. He used to speak but then he stopped, I suspect he just preferred listening to me. Anyway, have you seen him?"

There's a delay of a couple of seconds, and then: "Hmm, yes, actually. Stanley Johnson. We accidentally dropped a piano on him and he died. We buried his body around back. Sorry for your loss."

The overhead speakers snap off, leaving the man standing there, smiling like nobody just told him that his precious Stanley was just brutally killed by having a... a piano dropped on his head?!

"......WHAAAAAT?!"

The rest of the Stanleys stop and exchange a look of loss for a moment. And then go back to exploring this strange new Office.

#the haunted office #writing for days #the end is never the end unless it ends on a sour note #arthur wright #🔆 Cyrus

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delicatechildwitch · 1 year ago

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Name: Caramel

Nicknames: Glitzy, Crumb

Age: 19

Pronouns: she/her

Occupation: Information broker

Favorite foods: Flan, enchiladas, anything that looks fancy, (Oozesquitos? I think it would be very funny for her to just eat them like candy, but I don't know if she would double mutate from it and I don't want that to happen.)

Favorite color: Orange

Personality: Caramel is very expressive. She has a soft spot for young mutants, and doesn't want them to be forced into working for a meal like her. She very much likes people and would love to chat away with them, but the nature of her job leaves her reserved and paranoid. If she had friends, she might have to sell them out. Or, perhaps, they would sell her out. She's clever and good at negotiating a deal. She personally believes that mutating is bad and will prevent a mutation if she can. On the job, Caramel masks her emotions, and is very steady and dependable.

Fun facts:

Caramel spends her spare time in the library, trying to learn more.

Her nickname Glitzy comes from what Big Mama said about her yellow markings when they first met. Crumb came from a kid who couldn't pronounce her name.

Caramel doesn't have a home, instead switching to different temporary safe houses to keep others from easily locating her.

Caramel can still talk using frog noises.

She can also climb walls and jump very high.

She made her mask to keep herself from being easily recognized.

She also made it bird shaped because she thinks birds are scary.

Caramel wants to be hugged very, very badly.

Backstory:

Caramel was the class pet of a special needs science class. She was bought to help students learn about biology. The teacher named her Caramel, because she looked a bit like melting sugar, but a few of the kids struggled to say her name so they called her Crumb instead.

One day, one of the kids accidentally let Caramel escape. She somehow ended up in the Hidden City, where she stumbled upon Draxum making oozesquitos and she ate some and mutated.

She tried to go back home, but found that the teacher was terrified of her now. She ended up hiding in the school and learning along with the students, but in the end, the school realized food was going missing and made preventative measures to keep the food from being stolen, so she went back to the Hidden City.

She used her skills from hiding at the school and her natural frog talents to get into a lot of places she wasn't supposed to, stealing enough food to survive.

Her skills were caught by Big Mama, who quickly recognized that she wasn't Yokai and offered her a deal. Use her skills to get things Big Mama wanted and she'd be rewarded. Quickly, Caramel realized she'd rather not agree blindly to this and negotiated to instead steal information. She also managed to not be forced into a contract and instead be hired on a case-by-case basis. She told Big Mama how she was mutated to get her to be let lose and escape.

Caramel, recognizing this as an opportunity, began selling her services using the name 'Glitzy', not wanting her employers to call her by her real name. She bought swords and a mask and various locks and found people willing to teach her lockpicking (probably the Mud Dogs) and enough sword fighting (someone else) to keep herself safe in case of emergencies.

She often keeps Big Mama informed of the activities of her employees and is responsible for most, if not all, the blackmail Big Mama uses.

In addition to selling information to Big Mama, she likely informs a lot of other people, for instance, she's paid by the Hidden City police, and by a lot of smaller crooks.

(She doesn't give out information surrounding what she's hired for. For instance, if she's hired to find information that results in a crime, she doesn't use that information to then sell to the police, she instead tells them she can't for confidentiality reasons.)

Small tidbit, but Caramel was a part of @mochi-myles Citrus's story. She was paid to watch Mrs. Winters' cafe and give the rival cafe a good time to ransack the place as well as information on any codes or how to deactivate any other security measures. This is probably why the rival cafe wasn't arrested. They weren't caught and Caramel couldn't give the police information about the crime.

#rottmnt oc #tmnt foodie au #caramel crumb #Caramel crumb lore

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thesinglesjukebox · 11 months ago

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BSS FT. LEE YOUNG JI - "FIGHTING"

youtube

A Seventeen sub-unit, sensibly submitted by Anna...

[5.93]

Anna Katrina Lockwood: The K-pop boy group ecosystem is wilting under the long shadow of BTS' influence, with a bumper crop of dudes trying to fill the market gap by hollering unmelodiously through overly conceptual, poorly-lit music videos. Seventeen are doing none of that -- instead making use of their we've-sold-a-truckload-of-records artistic freedom by releasing "Fighting," from the BSS subunit. This song has that very particular, K-pop-specific campiness I love so much -- not that surprising given they share a label with the sublimely campy Orange Caramel, but surprising when you consider that label is now majority-owned by HYBE, also parent company to BTS' own label, amongst other business dealings. BSS -- short for BooSeokSoon, a portmanteau of a syllable each from the three members' names -- had an initial run five years ago with the vaguely sports-themed "Just Do It," which is of a piece with "Fighting," a song about, uh, getting up in the morning and hyping yourself up for the day? These boys are here to sing for you! It's cheerful, it's kind of nonsense, it's melodic as all hell, and you really need to view the music video -- a charming set piece of juxtaposed scenarios (bedroom in a Starbucks, greenery-filled roundabout leading to a stock exchange, park bench in an airplane) -- for full effect. Lee Youngji turns in a charmingly husky guest verse, leavening all that chipperness despite being haunted at every turn by the relentlessly upbeat trio of Seungkwan, DK, and Hoshi. The boys turn in solid vocal performances all round with nary a hint of irony -- a vibe I find endlessly charming, though I'll be the first to admit this is an acquired taste for most folks. I have longed for this type of song. As is ever the case with Seventeen, "Fighting" was capably composed by group member Woozi. I think it's telling that in talking about this delightful song, I feel that it's necessary to speak on BTS so much, but such is their pervasive influence on the scene -- though perhaps that's soon to change, since as of today, all seven members of BTS are enlisted in the South Korean military. I had a whole segment here comparing HYBE to Sub Pop here, but I think I'd rather focus on "Fighting," honestly. It's great. It's all the reasons I got in to K-pop in the first place. I find it entertaining that HYBE bought Pledis to shore up their boy group stocks for BTS' enlistments, and ended up releasing this goofy thing. Who's influencing whom? [10]

Micha Cavaseno: Was joking with our beloved Ryo earlier in the week about how a friend might say "LOL why is this K-pop thing emulating this pop song from 10 years ago" to which I rejoined them with "Buddy, this might be them emulating a song that emulated a song that emulated that pop song." "Fighting," for example, feels like my beloved "Girl" by Block-B but long in the tooth; completely understandable given it's made by guys who debuted about a year or so after that aforementioned record dropped. Of course, there's some additions (Lee Youngji doing her confident cool girl Childish Gambino thing, a little bridge melody that accidentally reminds me of "A Little Bit of Luck") but I don't think there's a supreme need to remake the wheel when it comes to power-poppy boyband K-pop. Still, perhaps a few stronger pushes away from the standard bearer would mean I'd be more confident in the "Fighting Spirit." [5]

David Moore: If somehow this was released back in 2011 or 2012 and was my first exposure to K-pop, it would have been as effective an entry point to the music as anything else from that time was. But I've somehow gone from having a handle on K-pop to completely losing the plot to finally being excited by current songs that really wouldn't have made any sense at all during the early 10s crossover heyday. Which is to say that I only know what to do with this song ten years ago -- it's like being given a pop quiz that I probably knew the answers to in high school but now have no inkling how to respond. [6]

Oliver Maier: Broken Social Scene sounds different. [2]

Ian Mathers: Ridiculous. [8]

Michelle Myers: Despite its repetitive structure, "Fighting" is a great track because it achieves the optimal balance of fun and virtuosity. DK and Boo take turns wailing like it's 2012, and music shows still require live vocals. Youngji's agile rapping matches their energy. As for Hoshi, "Fighting" just wouldn't hit without his tenacious sincerity. The song is truly his. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: The piano riffing at the last pre chorus after Lee Youngji's excellent verse ("we're playing the crumpled up life like some down on his luck Beethoven"; great line) sounds so damn good. Shame the rest of the song is some soft rock/pop nothing burger. Woozi, Hoshi, s. Coups and Bumzu all share credit for this song, so which one of them chose to add a flattened drill bassline over the papery drums and added that riff? 'Cuz if they did that of their own volition, they chose to have those "Hey Mickey" facsimile drums take on the whole first verse and first pre chorus and be the bedrock of the main song, which I find baffling since it both isn't as vibrant or distinct. The lush piano motif and synth riff of the chorus are beautiful but they don't hit until that Lee Youngji verse, and the song suddenly sparks to life. But right after that it's back to the chorus, then the song just stops. Very baffling choices, made by 4 people. Hoshi's the dance choreographer, why didn't he redo the drums? Did Park Ki Tae, another composer who plays synthesizer and guitar put that riff in there because it might get thrown out? Sigh. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: Been a while since I've heard a boyband track with honest-to-god Radio Disney energy: competently produced yet still somehow janky, and charming for how unthreatening it is. [5]

Brad Shoup: I'm always wary of anything that sounds like spy music, especially boy-band spy music that's prepping me for austerity. [4]

Crystal Leww: Charming work from BSS and Lee Youngji in a year where boy groups in K-pop really felt like a whole lot of blah, but really feels more suited to a pep rally where everyone's a winner rather than something that actually creates hype. [5]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Essentially an update on TROY's "Green Light" but with the hollow theatricality of a Mamamoo song, down to Lee Young Ji channeling her inner Moonbyul. This isn't smooth or silly enough in the way "Left & Right" was, so it lands closer to the miserable optimism of "Happy." They sing like they're being held at gunpoint, forced to smile. [3]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: Relentlessly goofy in a good-natured way, like if an hour's worth of educational skits were jammed into three minutes of run. It's janky but it works -- moving through it all with a pace that implies cardio routines helps! [6]

Michael Hong: Corniness is deliberate of course, just not sure it helps their cause that Lee Youngji raps like she just finished helping a Youtuber with a skit. [5]

Alfred Soto: It has spritz, the wobbly synth bass I dig, and a lyric delivered if not with coherence then with clarity. [6]

Kayla Beardslee: I love Seventeen. They've been my most listened-to artist for two years in a row (and are on track for a third); I amnestied a song of theirs last year just because I wanted to have a chance to write about them for the Jukebox; seeing them in concert last September is genuinely one of my most treasured memories. I could write hundreds of words about what makes this song such a triumphant comeback for the gloriously goofy Booseoksoon subunit five years after their first release, and how I love seeing Seventeen return to what they do best, which is take the art of making people smile seriously. I might even delve into the excellent music video and choreo and how they support the motivational themes of the track (what an unlikely accomplishment it is for professional celebrities to pull off an ode to the everyday office worker without being patronizing!) while never sacrificing its fundamental sense of playfulness. There's an almost alchemical balance between levity and purpose in "Fighting" that only the greatest K-pop songs have ever achieved. I could dig into it, into the amount of times I danced along to "Fighting" in my office this year, into the general existence of Hoshi being Hoshi (and Seungkwan being Seungkwan, and DK being DK). But I think it's a testament to the brilliance of this song that my practically infinite thoughts about it can all be summed up in one simple sentence: This pop music shit is supposed to be fun! [10]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox ]

#BSS #seventeen #lee young ji #music #k-pop #music writing #music reviews #music criticism #the singles jukebox #Youtube

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