#But whenever she's allowed to just be herself in front of the camera it's always a masterpiece

[sincerity--extreme]

One thing I'm loving about watching all Kathryn Hahn and Aubrey Plaza shows and movies now is how all Kathryn's characters are basically Agatha Harkness in different universes and Aubrey's are Rio, I love it so much

[milqueandsugar]

🌼☕` Hugging Them `☕🌼

Gen / fluff

Includes / Alastor , Lucifer , Husk , Charlie , Vox , Velvette , Carmilla

| ALASTOR |

Won't initiate but will allow it if you're interested, never in public however

Recovering from a fight doesn't necessarily warrant him initiating touch, it's the opposite actually

Fighting makes him feel gross, when feelings are running hot he couldn't imagine anything worse than being touched, so given the courtesy you've given his aversion to touch he does the same for you

If, eventually you tell him you WOULD like to be touched and held after a fight or when upset he'll indulge

He likes to hold you while sat and comfortable, in bed or on the lounge, head resting comfortably in your shoulder, hand running up and down your back, gentle, fleeting, loving touches

| LUCIFER |

Adores hugging, he's very physically affectionate and wrapping you up in his arms, wings and tail is the closest to heaven he could get

His cool to the touch, unnaturally so, so he's learned it's best to give you a little warning before hand

Sometimes he doesn't though, just to give you a little spook

Have fun pulling him off of you, sometimes likes to just drape over you to cause problems

Got to get up early? Have fun pulling that octopus off of you

| HUSK |

He's neutral towards it, he's not a hugger but he doesn't hate it either

Usually after a fight, once you've mare up of course

Will just give you one if you ask though, only if you sweeten the pot though

"You want to- what you want a hug? What are you willing to give for it?"

Purrs the whole time though, tail swaying

Sometimes in the early morning he'll even wrap it around you, ears airplaned as he just takes you in

| CHARLIE |

HUGE hugger

Coming home, hug, leaving the hotel, hug, want a kiss, hug first, happy, hug, sad, hug

She read an article that said that humans need a certain amount of hugs a day to function and she's hitting that marker every day

She's a nuzzler too, against your face, your cheek, neck or shoulder

Think like when a cat rubs against your legs, but the cat has you in a crushing grasp

| VOX |

He's doing the work of like, three nine to fives, the only time he's really affectionate is in public outings for publicity, TV, or in bed before he gets up at some ungodly hour

He denies he likes snuggling but he always migrates to your side of the bed, somehow, every night, certainly some sort of coincidence

Cuddling is awkward cause of his head, if he wants to initiate he and you have to do some finagling to slot you two together, it's worth the work though, he never does anything that isn't worth it

| VELVETTE |

Is the most affectionate in front of a camera or in the public eye

Whenever you get a surprise hug, or kiss or she takes your hand in hers you can just assume that there's a camera near by

Posts lots of photos of the two of you cuddling, power couple shit

The only time you can say she hugged you, unencouraged by a camera, is when her first runway walk sold out

It's, weird to be nostalgic for something that only happened once but, you are

| CARMILLA CARMINE |

Usually gives you hugs when she senses you're upset

It's not that she doesn't like being affectionate, it's just not something that comes naturally to her

Is awkward, at first, but over time it becomes like second nature and holding you is a joy she could never lose

Hugs you around your neck, or from behind, just so she can mold herself to you and selfishly take you all in

[strwbabydoll]

Hey! 17 & 28 if possible please!!! x

Valentine’s Gifts and Surprises

hii here you go ! <3

talk to me • masterlist • request a valentine's prompt

- - - -

17- roses

28 - ribbons

- - - - 

Y/N’s never been on the giving side of all of Valentine's activities. She’s always been the one receiving the flowers, chocolates and cards from her past lovers. But this year, she wants to do something different, step outside of her comfort zones and do something nice. She stares at the variety of flowers lining the shelves and walls of the flower shop she stands in. They’ve never discussed their favorite flowers and how they want to celebrate Valentine’s, it’s not that they don’t want to celebrate it, it’s just not that big of a deal for the two of them. 

But she wants to do something for Harry, to try to show just how much she appreciates him. So here she is, standing in the flower shop trying to figure out which flower to get him. Her eyes scan over the walls until she comes across a beautiful bouquet of red and blue tulips and immediately she knows that these are the perfect ones for him. She doesn’t want to be basic and give him roses, although she did think about it simply because she knows he’ll be over the moon anyway. She quickly walks over to where they’re sitting and grabs them and not long after she’s heading to the checkout section and buying them. Y/N smiles as she thanks the lady and walks out. The flowers were the last thing she needed to complete his gift. 

She didn’t want to go all out for him, she knows he’s not that kind of person. He wants something intimate whenever it’s a holiday or something for the two of them. She had intended on spending the day at home, to share their love and just be with each other. He’s never been one to indulge in all of the big public displays of affection, he prefers moments to be shared privately. So she knew he’d prefer to keep their love just between them, no cameras or loud noises, crowded spaces and no awkwardness. 

She drives to their shared apartment and sits in the parking lot, sending a quick text message to let him know that she’s home and not to come outside so she can put his present together (she left his present part out but she’s almost positive that he knows what she’s been out doing.) Almost immediately she gets a text back with a thumbs up and him saying he’s glad she’s made it home safe and that he can’t wait to see her. She smiles to herself before she begins to assemble it. She places the medium sized wooden basket on her lap and sets the small red shaved pieces inside of them of the basket and begins to set his gifts inside.She sets the folded sweatshirt that has a picture of them together on the front in first, then she sets the heart shaped box of chocolates in, then a couple bottles of his favorite drink and then sprinkles some other snacks in as well. After all that is set, she puts a couple face masks in and the valentine’s card she’s written for him. 

She admires it for a couple of minutes before she sends him another text saying she’s coming in, she grabs the basket and gets out of the car; she makes sure to close and lock the doors before she begins to make her way to their apartment. She quickly unlocks the door and she immediately gasps at what she sees. There’s rose petals scattered all over the floor and ribbons in her favorite colors tied around their smaller chairs and hanging from the ceiling. There’s soft jazz coming from the speaker in the living room and candles lit everywhere. The whole scenery is directly from her pinterest board, something she wouldn’t tell Harry about because she knew he’d try his best on recreating it and she just wants him to do whatever he wants.

She can’t help but to smile lovingly at the effort he’s put into this. She makes her way inside and follows the trail of rose petal leaves on the floor, leading her into their bedroom. The door is opened and allows her to see the inside, more rose petals leading up to the bed and stops in the shape of a big  heart and Harry stands beside it. He’s holding a bouquet of roses, all of them in different colors, with several pink ribbons wrapped around them and a bright smile on his face. He’s dressed handsomely, a white button down shirt with the first three buttons undone to showcase a bit of his chest and his swallow tattoos, a pair of black pants and his hair beautifully styled. 

“Hi, my love.” He says and she smiles at him, soft and lovingly. 

“Hi, baby. What’s all this?” She asks and he shrugs. 

“It’s Valentine’s. Did you think I wouldn’t do anything for my girl?” He says as he walks over to her. She can’t help the heat that runs to her cheeks as she watches him. He softly takes the basket from her hands and kisses her forehead softly. 

“What’s this?” He asks and she smiles shyly. 

“Your valentine’s day gift.” She says and he shakes his head as he continues to smile brightly.

“Thank you, baby, but you didn’t have to. I appreciate you thinking of me, but you will always be my present for every holiday. You’re all I need.”

[nightsky652]

Yandere Prodigy

Her name is Aqua, she is a prodigy.

She is a quiet and serious girl, also considered a kuudere. She doesn't show her emotions, but her words and actions make her obvious infatuation with you.

She is a little tall, has long blue hair, and gray eyes. She is quite beautiful, typically dressing in long dresses.

A super genius with an IQ over 200, considered one of the brightest minds of the century. She excels in mathematics, physics, chemistry, economics, medicine, and law. Her abilities surpass those of normal persons.

Since childhood, she found everything boring and didn't get along with other kids. She was different, not playing with toys or engaging in childish activities. She preferred reading over playing with others.

She saw everything in gray until she met you, a cheerful kid who, like everyone else, enjoyed playing childish games. However, she saw something different in you, something that caught her attention. It was as if you were the only point of color in a world of gray. She wanted to know more about you, to find out why you were completely different from everyone else.

Years later, after observing you from afar for a long time, she finally discovered it was love. Realizing she was in love, she also became aware of all the strange things she had been doing while trying to figure out the reason you were so different. This included collecting your hair, observing you from a distance, measuring you while you slept, among many other things. However, she knew she couldn't stop; she wanted to know everything about you.

Her great intelligence also helps her get closer to you. She knows your schedule by heart, where you'll be at every moment of the day, allowing her to find you whenever she wants.

In high school, she was considered a worldwide genius, participating in international competitions and excelling in math without needing to study. She took advantage of her position as a genius to become a tutor, with a clear goal in mind: to become your tutor.

It's normal for you to struggle with an exam or a topic from time to time. When that happens, she jumps at the opportunity to offer help with your studies, using it as a chance to spend more time together, go to your house, and stay up late studying together.

Being skilled with computers and programming, she can hack into your account to see your school schedule, know which classes you'll have and with whom. She uses this information to adjust her schedule so that you have most to all classes together, helping you with any questions you may have during class.

She also uses her hacking skills to access your computer and account, having access to your history and front camera. She loves watching you through it, especially when you put on a cute face while concentrating on reading or when you laugh at a video. She doesn't regret learning to program and hack just to do these things.

She uses your history to research topics you like, making it easier to talk to you about these things. It also helps her find a gift you might really like for your birthday or in Christmas, ensuring she updates her information about you from time to time.

She enjoys playing video games, and when you were younger, she used to go to your house to play with you. She was very good at it, practicing to beat you every time because she found it adorable how you concentrated when trying to win or when you lost.

She studies hard to fulfill her future plan, which involves having you always by her side. Despite her natural talent and prodigy, she dedicates herself to achieving this dream.

In the future, she will create her own company, becoming the CEO, and it will become an international-level company in a short time thanks to her well-planned strategies and skills in economics. The company will sell some of the revolutionary inventions she has created.

Once she is the CEO and her company has enough power, she will have everything she needs to keep you always by her side. She will offer you a job, a well-paid position as her personal assistant. You won't be able to refuse the offer; it has too many benefits.

Once you start working for her, you will sign a confidentiality agreement, but there were some small print and legal gaps that worked to her advantage, which you didn't notice.

The contract was to prevent you from sharing information about her or the company, but mainly to prevent you from reporting her for the things she was going to do. Violating the contract would have serious consequences.

The small print of the contract included that you had to be available to help her 24/7, requiring you to move practically next to her if you lived on your own, with your family, or with your girlfriend.

Another small print included the duration of your contract, about 10 years. You cannot resign during this time, or you would violate the contract and face legal problems.

In summary, the contract worked in her favor, and once signed, she would have you in the palm of her hand for a decade. She would make you renew the contract without you realizing it if she deemed it necessary, in case you hadn't learned by then that you belonged to her.

If you were to reject the job despite the absurd benefits presented, she would be a bit concerned because she thought you would accept instantly. However, she had already planned what to do in that situation, so there would be no problem.

In case you rejected her job offer, she would take care of tarnishing your name and putting you on the blacklist of any company or place you applied to work at. No matter how much you studied or if you had a degree or a doctorate, no one would want to go against a big company like the one she owns, so you would be constantly rejected from the jobs you applied to.

You would inevitably end up crawling back to her feet, after falling into despair and being rejected from every job, you begged for the position she offered you earlier. Aqua would act hard to get, but only to pressure you into accepting the new contract she made for you, thicker than the previous one, with more restrictions for you. Being desperate for the job, you would be more likely to sign anything she gave you.

After seeing how you resisted the first time, she wanted to make sure it didn't happen again or prevent it as much as possible. This new contract would help her keep you under control.

As her assistant, you would spend most of the time with her in her private office. She could work while staring at you, and although it would make you uncomfortable, you couldn't do anything to make her stop. She was your boss, and she could do anything she wanted. After signing and discovering some clauses you didn't read well, you began to doubt if accepting the job was a good idea.

One advantage of your contract with her is that you have several days of vacation, despite being a newcomer. You might try to use one of these days to get away from your boss and rest from her penetrating gaze. You could even go with your girlfriend and enjoy time together, if you're still together, but you didn't take into account that there was a legal gap in the contract. As you had to be available 24/7 as her assistant, you could only go on vacation if she went with you, something she would surely do.

If you don't have a girlfriend, she will suggest that you share a room, offering to pay for the room, saying that you deserve it for working so hard. Although her true intentions are to choose the hotel where you will stay, so she can make modifications thanks to her contacts. For example, accidentally having a confusion and ending up sleeping in a room with a double bed instead of two, or asking to install a secret camera in the shower so she can record and watch you shower. She would treasure that recording like a treasure; these are just some of the things she can do.

If you still have a girlfriend, your boss will accompany you, regardless of whether it bothers your girlfriend or not. It's in the contract, after all. She will suggest a hotel owned by one of the company's partners because it is a prestigious hotel, and they will get a considerable discount. In the hotel, she will use her influence to ruin the moments you and your girlfriend can have together, and to hurt her.

At night, you won't be able to sleep or be together peacefully because apparently the upstairs and next-door floors are under construction, and the noise of drills, hammers, and others won't let you sleep peacefully. Also, during meals, the waiters might "accidentally" trip and spill food or drinks on your girlfriend, ruining the elegant clothes she brought for your date at this beautiful hotel.

If these small annoyances are not enough to separate you, she will take more extreme measures. If any accident were to happen in the hotel, it could easily be covered up by the hotel owner. There would be no witnesses, and security videos would mysteriously be deleted. It's the perfect place to get rid of the woman who has what she has desired so much.

Your new home would be quite nice; it's an apartment on the same floor and building as Aqua. It's a very nice and exclusive place with a lot of security. Thanks to the generous salary from your new job, you can afford it. You are obligated to live there; according to the contract, you must always be close in case your boss needs you.

Naturally, your room would be monitored through the hidden cameras she installed before you moved in. If she thought you might bring your girlfriend, she could prevent you from getting too comfortable and would call you immediately for help with something as her assistant. You would have to go with her at that moment, ruining the quality time you had planned to spend with your girlfriend.

Since she can't spend time with your girlfriend because you have to live next to your boss, and every time she visits, there seems to be an urgent matter that forces you to leave, your relationship won't last long, just as Aqua had planned. She would take advantage of your sadness after the breakup to get closer to you.

[mixtape-racha]

it's a scream, baby! | hyunlix

chapter eight: push the laws and end up dead

words: 1.91k // warnings: police presence, descriptions of being sick, hinted at smut and loss of virginity

OFFICIAL GHOSTFACE KILL COUNT: 005

“we’ve fucking told you everything we know! about twelve times now! this is such fucking bullshit!” changbin’s yells rang out from the kitchen, where he was currently being interviewed for the umpteenth time by two police officers.

with every word, (y/n) began shaking even more, sobs still pouring from her lips from where she was wrapped in a blanket on the couch, a heavily used sick bucket placed in front of her. she just couldn’t believe it - awoken at 7am to armed police officers knocking on the door, telling them that chan and jeongin’s bodies had been found behind the football field across campus.

it was almost unimaginable, and every single one in the group had a heavy feeling of nausea and anxiety ever since the news was first broken to them.

the extent of the injuries on chan’s body…. (y/n) couldn’t even imagine how someone was capable of such a thing. as hyunjin was busying himself with comforting seungmin and minho, and jisung was having the same conversation as changbin across the dorm with another pair of officers, felix glued himself to (y/n)’s side - in all honesty, too scared to let her out of his sight. what if she was targeted next? the officers were now well aware of the ominous message she had received, and even they agreed she had to be cautious.

deep down, in a way she’d never admit and felt horrible for thinking, (y/n) was kind of impressed with the extent the attacker had gone to. 5 bodies, but no evidence pointing towards a suspect? no dna left at a scene, nothing on security cameras - it was almost like the police were chasing the wind. surely, that was impossible. surely… surely, this was something woodsboro police had never encountered before.

even thinking about it had a new wave of sickness wash over (y/n), and she didn’t even realize she’d resumed throwing up until she came to and found felix rubbing her back and holding the bucket closer to her face.

it took a while still for the police to decide they’d questioned everyone enough, and the remaining friends ended up sitting in stunned silence for the next few hours. they were all so shaken up, and frankly (y/n) was scared for them to leave. the dorm would seem so quiet without jeongin, and so seungmin had decided to stay over in minho’s room. changbin and jisung had also decided to take the pull out sofa in the living room, as they couldn’t face going back to their dorm without chan yet. eventually, they convinced felix and hyunjin to stay over too, the entire group opting to drag mattresses into the living room so they could all stay together. it just felt better that way - the pain was still unbearable, but being together allowed them to live around it.

the next day or two were seemingly uneventful, the deceased boy’s parents coming to empty their rooms of their things, and check up on their friends. it was hard seeing chan and jeongin’s younger brothers - it was like looking at them again and (y/n) had to excuse herself a few times to cry in the bathroom. but at least there were no new bodies.

felix had taken over being (y/n)’s night guard too - as hyunjin and seungmin had been friends since they were babies, he was understandably sticking by his best friend’s side at that moment. so, whenever (y/n) needed anything, felix was there ready and willing. he’d do anything for her, he was the first to admit he’d always had a soft spot when it came to their only close female friend.

after chan and jeongin’s rooms had been officially emptied, the campus administrators offered to move the affected roommates to a new dorm room - just like they had with yeji, before she decided to leave - but they kindly rejected the offers. they didn’t want to feel like they were moving on and forgetting their friends, so instead they asked and arranged to fit all 7 of the group into (y/n) and minho’s dorm.

seungmin, of course, would be rooming with minho, that much was apparent; and (y/n) was going to keep her room to herself - it was the smallest anyway, so it was no use trying to fit another person in there. jeongin’s old room would become changbin and jisung’s new room, and they decided to convert their rarely used dining room into a bedroom for felix and hyunjin. (y/n) had to admit, it was nice to have her boys close to her like this. she was so beyond scared of losing them, the fear beginning to affect her physically as well as mentally, that having them within such close proximity would be relieving for her.

after another one of her never ending stream of nightmares had woken her up, one night, (y/n) found herself tiptoeing out of her bedroom and towards hyunjin and felix’s new room - she’d feel least bad about waking them to comfort her, and they were closest to her room, anyway. however, what she wasn’t expecting was to turn the corner, and find felix fully awake and sitting on the edge of his bed, almost like her knew she was coming.

“you okay, bub?” he softly asked, taking in the way (y/n0 clutched at the blanket she was holding, feeling smaller than she ever had. she softly shook her head before responding.

“had a nightmare again. why are you up?” she gestured, in a way that he’d come to realize meant she needed comfort and was offering a cuddle session in her bed. as he stood up to join her, taking her hand softly, he too shrugged.

“just thinking… would you mind if we talked for a bit? i just… i think getting it off my chest would help.”

(y/n) nodded, her head pressed against felix’s arm as they entered her room, and she flipped her lamp on as he quietly closed the door. much to felix’s dismay, the shorter girl pulled away from his body to get comfortable on her bed before patting the space next to her, signaling for him to join.

and talk they did. they spent hours, just speaking anything they wanted to get off their chests, and more than often it resulted in a few tears. (y/n) about how she was scared to lose the people around her, how they were all she had left and she was scared to be alone. felix, about how he was closest with chris - except clearly jeongin, which the pair shared a teary giggle over - and how he felt almost like he’d lost a brother.

but it wasn’t just sad things they spoke about. they discussed their goals, their aspirations. why they chose their respective degrees, what they hoped to do with their lives once they left this silly little town. felix wanted to travel. he wanted to see the world, and fall in love with it. he wanted to grow as a person, and continue to learn things he couldn’t from a book or a classroom. he wanted to collect trinkets from each place the visited, and one day use them to fill his forever home with cherished memories.

(y/n), on the other hand, wanted to find herself. not just herself, but her forever home and her forever person, too. after the events of the past week, she realized life was too short to wait for what you wanted. she wanted to settle down, and start a family, and start her forever as soon as possible. she knew that could take a while, but she wanted a white picket fence and a nuclear family. just some normality after the things she’d been through, and felix thought that was adorable. maybe not the most realistic thing he’d ever heard, but adorable nonetheless.

the conversations then turned to secrets. something funny. something embarrassing, things they’d never told another soul. a little safe haven, just for them. felix was shocked when (y/n) bashfully admitted she hoped she’d find a man who could make her orgasm - something none of her previous boyfriends or hookups had yet achieved. they shared a giggle over it, mainly to take away (y/n) apparent shyness, but truly just because felix thought it was awful that she hadn’t had a partner give her that yet.

so felix thought it was only fair that he shared a secret of equal level. he was a virgin, and he found it really embarrassing being the quiet one when all the guys would boast about their latest conquests. to be fair, (y/n) was shocked. she quickly explained that there was nothing wrong with it, and he shouldn’t rush into it just because it felt like everyone else was doing it, but it surprised her. felix had always had a lot of admirers across campus, and she assumed that their harmless flirting would lead somewhere. but when felix’s eyes looked up at her, cheeks flushed scarlet and his voice quiet, (y/n) was further shocked.

“i don’t want to die a virgin, (y/n). is that a stupid fear to have? it feels silly.” he had whispered, almost afraid of how the girl opposite him would react. but his fears dissipated when she softly smiled at him, placing her hand on his own.

“it’s not silly lix, i promise. i’m sure there’s a lot of other people across campus feeling the exact same thing right now.” she had reassured him, her eyes kind and nothing short of beautiful. but what he wasn’t expecting was for her to move closer, as if initiating something more between them.

maybe it was the grief, maybe it was their recent proximity, but (y/n) felt more than sure that she could help felix out here. felix, on the other hand, was unsure. he didn’t want her to feel she had to do anything, just because of his confession. that wasn’t his intent at all, and he didn’t want her to think otherwise.

“(y/n)... please don’t force yourself to change this. i didn’t tell you that to make you feel obliged to sleep with me..” 

he was so kind. so sweet, and so nice to her. (y/n) shook her head, her hands on felix’s legs.

“lix, please. you’ve been so good to me the past few days… i need to thank you somehow, don’t i?” she smiled, watching his adam’s apple bop as he gulped.

he had to be dreaming. this had to be a dream. the world around them was practically falling apart, and one of his best friends’ was sat in front of him offering to take his virginity all because of his stupid fear of dying a virgin? this couldn’t be real.

but… he was man. a needy man, at that. and (y/n) looked so cute sat in front of him, biting her lip as she awaited his response. how could he say no?

so he nodded gently, his hands finding comfort in (y/n)’s own as she moved herself to sit on his lap. her lips quickly attached to his, felix’s heart pounding at what was to come. he genuinely couldn’t believe it.

he quite honestly felt like the luckiest man in the world, and he’d do anything he could to express that gratitude to the girl on top of him.

taglist: join taglist here @pretty-racha @chubbyanarkiss @queen-klarissa @queenfelix @taeriffic @mits-vi @myeg1993 @lemontead @peachessandhoney @chanssmiles @changbinisabigboy @5kayzee @skz-streamer @iweirdthingsblog @sinforsuccubus @bunniie0325 @torixx80 @fawnpeaks @bangtanmix73 @savluvsmingi @boi-bi-ahaha @moondustmemories @4evrglow @marrivmel @littlepotatooooo

[raainberry]

i need smt with tzuyu plzplzplz 🙏

Love On Camera

« silly series - 11 »

Tzuyu x gn!reader

Fluff

synopsis - clingy tzuyu and selfies!

wordcount - 736

A/N - my first Tzuyu work! Ive been wanting to write a bit more for the other girls so this is great thank you for the ask anon!

“Tzuyu!” You groaned your girlfriend’s name at the sudden feeling of her weight on your back.

She only hummed happily in response, wordlessly asking you to come forward with your complaints. You really had none of those, and she knew it. That’s why she allowed herself to jump on you as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom.

Your body always seemed more appealing and comfortable than the bed or the pillows, she was just happy she could actually make use of it whenever she wanted. She loved that unspoken relationship clause and made sure to apply it as often as she could.

“Give me a warning next time.” You spoke into the pillow you used as support against your chest while you scrolled on your phone. “You’re gonna kill me one day.”

“What a beautiful way to go. Suffocated by love.” She joked, lifting her head up to look at your screen as you laughed. “What are you doing?”

Her voice was so soft against your ear, it made you realise how much you’d missed her today as you’d woken up to an empty bed.

“Nothing.” You said right before an idea popped in your mind.

You closed the application you were using, muscle memory swiftly guiding your fingers to the camera one. You switched to the front camera as soon as it opened, taking Tzuyu by surprise thanks to the speed of your motions.

You couldn’t help but laugh when she squealed, hiding her face in your neck but not before you were able to snap a few shots in burst.

The fact that she got so shy whenever you had her on camera despite her job was amusing. You had a blast looking back on the photos you took, she looked cute and happy on all of them. Although most of them were her trying to hide the red in her face or not even aware of the lense on her, it warmed your heart knowing she was happy with you.

It was the best thing you could have wished for.

“Why are you so camera shy? Come on, let’s have a proper one.” You spoke softly, a smile pulling on your lips at how close she was to you in the moment.

It felt so good, so calming, so right. You had a feeling it would look as wholesome as it felt too, so you had to capture it.

“It’s not the camera that makes me shy.” Tzuyu finally lifted her head up, glancing at you through the screen before her eyes scanned your side profile. “It’s the person behind.”

You grinned at her words, and it was your turn to try and hide the blush on your cheeks by throwing in a teasing remark. “Oh, I make you shy? How come? Am I that hot?”

The response you got was predictable: a familiar eye roll, her signature move to anything that annoyed her in a way she couldn’t help but love.

You kissed it away though, which was just as predictable of a move. A few pecks that Tzuyu welcomed by deepening each one more and more, stealing your breath away with no repercussions.

“You kind of are…” She mumbled against your lips, the same teasing tone on them that you’d just used.

You could only smile, thanking her with another small kiss.

“Who’s the shy one now?” She teased back, and you laughed finding refuge from her gaze in the screen of your phone.

It followed you there though, and Tzuyu smiled at the idea of giving you what you wanted.

“Do you still want to take the picture?” She asked, her small smile giving away the fact that she was just as shy as minutes ago.

Of course you did, so she posed like she was used to as you snapped a few shots while she showcased her love for you through each one.

Leaning her chin on your shoulder, a cute pout on her lips, a stunning grin as a visual of her laughter when she caught your eyes on her, a playful pinch of your cheek before kissing it…

“Put it as your wallpaper.” She said as you looked at the latter.

You giggled at the fact that it sounded more like an order than a suggestion, but you soon found out it actually was an order.

A loving one that you happily followed.

That picture made you smile every time you picked your phone up. How could you not when the loveliest girl in the world popped up, kissing your cheek out of all?

[c-jay-s-text-posts-only]

A Shameless Comfort

Written with permission from @alexadru

Jaune had been having a bad day.

Nothing had gone right; he’d gotten a pop quiz in Oobleck’s class, fell asleep in Port’s class, and lost another match to Cardin in Goodwitch’s class.

Usually, these kinds of things wouldn’t bother him at all. He would bounce back and smile again by dinner time, and tomorrow, he'd start over, fresh and new.

But today was different.

Somehow, Jaune just couldn’t pick himself back up this time.

It had happened before, and usually, he kept to himself until one of his sisters found him.

But his sisters weren’t here . . .

He left them behind . . .

. . .

. . .

He was alone . . .

. . .

. . .

At times, Jaune could bounce back without any help, and at least he could convince himself that it would all be okay.

Once again, it seemed today was different.

Having been surrounded by the giants of his year, like Ruby, Weiss, Pyrrha, and even Nora, he felt as if he was the biggest letdown.

Like an anchor . . .

. . .

. . .

A sham . . .

. . .

. . .

A failure . . .

. . .

. . .

His teammates were in their dormitory.

He knew they’d be happy to see him, but he wasn’t ready to face them.

Not yet.

He tried taking deep breaths to calm himself, but that didn’t help much. He tried faking his smile and checking it in his scroll camera, but it didn’t look real enough. He tried everything he could think of, but nothing worked.

So, there he stayed. Waiting behind the door, and too ashamed to be seen.

Eventually, Jaune became too upset with himself and wound up sitting with his back against the wall, knees drawn up, and his head buried in his hands.

Jaune sat there for some time, stewing; just drowned enough not to hear the sound of approaching footsteps.

By the time he did, they came to a stop right in front of him; Jaune looked up.

He knew those riding boots.

He raised his head, a piercing, red pair of eyes met his faltering gaze.

Standing ahead of him, dressed in her casual clothes, was Charlotte Gelé Franke, the girl down the hall. She'd been enamored with him since the term began, when they first locked eyes.

She was a year older than Jaune, and in spite of that, her intentions with him were entirely clear.

Charlotte always made sure she displayed affection to Jaune, but only ever did so to him. Whether it be by pressing herself up against his front or back or by quite bluntly sitting in his lap whenever he dropped his guard.

Jaune never understood why she would, but he never complained. Who was he to stop her?

How was he to stop her?

His friends often made a fuss about it whenever they saw, though, so he never knew what to think. It seemed she damn-near begged him to accept and return her feelings, something everyone else found disgusting.

Weiss did especially - Charlotte was her half-sister after all.

Jaune, of course, didn't really buy into her charade - if that indeed was what it was. He could never tell if she was joking or not.

But looking deep into her eyes right here and now, Jaune couldn’t see that same Charlotte standing in front of him.

He was surprised when he noticed; there were no signs of lust in her expression, she just looked . . . sad.

Concerned . . .

‘That's a new look . . .’ Jaune thought to himself.

Charlotte shook her head, knelt down, and delicately cradled Jaune’s chin in her hand. Then she clasped his hand and guided him up to his feet; she was taller than Weiss, but not by a lot - Jaune had never really noticed this before.

He'd been paying more attention to how she was acting just then, so Jaune didn’t realise where Charlotte had taken him until too late.

Her team’s dormitory.

The room was empty, save for the furniture: the beds, a few chairs, and a desk for writing. Charlotte had spruced up her own quarter of the room, being allowed to utilise her own furnishings.

The softness of Charlotte’ touch remained as she very smoothly coaxed him to her bed, sitting him down on her silky, black bed sheets.

Almost out of instinct and mostly out of resignation, he surrendered. Jaune began to shakily undress himself. He peeled off his chest plate, arm and elbow guards, his gloves, and his shoulder pads. Then he took another shakey breath and prepared to strip.

But just as he made to take his belts off, Charlotte caught his wrist, and Jaune stopped to look at her.

The look on her face was sober, and she shook her head again.

"Sit still." Charlotte spoke at last.

Jaune just obeyed, not taking his eyes off her. It occurred to him only then that Charlotte hadn’t been flirting. Nor had said anything dirty to him.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t said much of anything since she found him.

She hadn’t sat down next to him on the bed either. She was still standing. Tentatively, she closed the gap between them, reached into his personal space, and took his head into her hands.

Jaune almost felt like an ancient artifact under the very careful study of archaeologists. Charlotte brushed her thumb against the side of his nose and pulled him into her chest.

Jaune didn’t know what to think until he felt a soft pair of lips press themselves comfortingly into the crown of his head. They didn't reach his scalp, but he felt them in his hair.

Not too rough.

Just gentle enough.

One hand stayed on his cheek, while the other encircled the back of his head, her fingers brushing through his hair.

Almost at once, Jaune felt as if he'd been taken home, the clock turning back to sweep him into the comforting embrace of someone who really cared.

. . .

Mom . . .

. . .

Mary . . .

. . .

Saphron . . .

. . .

He couldn’t hold back anymore now; his jaw was trembling, and his eyes stung. With a sniffle and a cough, he wrapped his arms around Charlotte’s waist and properly began to cry.

Her arms tightened around him. Hot tears streamed down his cheeks, and his eyes became red and puffy, but Charlotte kept holding him as close as she could, not worrying if his tears might stain her outfit.

"Let it out, Darling." She wooed, "You're safe here."

Surreal . . .

It was the only word to describe what was happening.

Charlotte was bad-mouthed, bad-tempered, and very dirty-minded around everyone; the way she was acting now reminded him only too much of his mother and how close he’d been to her before he went away - she was the only one in his life who seemed to truly understand him.

Now, Charlotte Gelé Franke looked nothing like her, Jaune’s mother was taller, had blonde hair that fell to her shoulders, and her skin was medium tanned. Charlotte wasn’t like that at all; she was shorter, her long black hair fell past her hips, and her skin was porcelain.

But Jaune didn’t care.

It was close enough for him.

A few minutes later, and Jaune had calmed down enough; he stopped crying, and raised his head to look up at Charlotte.

Still, she didn’t look hungry for him, she just looked relieved.

Thankful.

For a moment, Jaune felt bad for thinking the way he had about her.

He wasn’t sure what to say now, if nothing else, he should say he was sorry. All the same, he wanted to know what she was up to.

“Charlotte, I-” He tried.

But Charlotte put a finger to his lips, effortlessly silencing him.

“My Darling, you don’t have to say anything.” She shushed him sweetly, “I’m not gonna do anything to you.”

“You're not?” Jaune was taken aback,

“Of course I'm not.” Charlotte promised, pressing her lips into his forehead, “I can see how much you're hurting right now.”

“Bu- but- . . . but why?” Jaune couldn’t understand, “You always go for what you want, never hold back . . . not when you want something . . . you could probably do whatever you wanted to me right now, and I wouldn’t try to stop you . . .”

That was the truth.

He didn’t have the energy to argue with her at the moment. But Charlotte didn’t make a move all the same. Instead, she massaged the back of his head, rubbing circles into it almost as if she was petting a dog she loved.

“That’s not what you need right now.” Her tone was soft, much softer than Jaune had ever heard from her, “Not from me. And not from anyone else. So, no. I’m not going to do anything to you. I’m just going to hold you, wait for you to smile again.”

Jaune’s eyebrow twitched, and his heart beat a little harder.

Was this real?

Was this really happening?

“I want you to fall for me when we’re at our best.” She explained, “That way, we’ll want to stay together when we’re at our worst.”

Jaune blinked.

The logic was sound.

Charlotte got onto the bed, laying them both down together; she wrapped her arms around him one more time. Jaune was nervous at first until she felt her patting his head again.

“Besides that, I can respect consent.” She lightly tapped him on the nose and winked, “It’s not like I’m some fucking skank who’d take a chance like this to worm her way in when you’re so vulnerable and defenceless.”

Her tone changed, and she now looked a little upset.

“Only a bitch would play a move like that.” Charlotte nearly spat, “Manipulation at its finest, the coward’s way . . . it's Some Pig's way . . .”

She very quickly calmed down and gently, pressed her lips into his hair, then brushed them over his brow and sat up, looming over him to get a good look at his face.

“I promise,” She insisted, “All I want right now is for you to feel better.”

Jaune was speechless.

Charlotte really cared about him. And all of him.

She cared about his feelings, who he was, what he wanted to do . . .

All of it . . .

Every doubt washed away, and at last, Jaune understood. Now, he didn’t feel he needed to avoid her; she was like an angel, though fallen from grace if Weiss was to hear about it.

It sounded like Charlotte realised her mistake in pursuing him before and doing what she could to make things right for herself, and for him too.

Again, Jaune’s jaw trembled. The weight lifting off his shoulders, he relaxed and leaned into her warmth.

"Charlotte . . ." He breathed shakily, "Thank you."

Hoping not to start crying all over again, Jaune pulled her in as close as he could, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Charlotte smiled.

"You know I'd do it all for you." She gave him a Solitaese Peck, "But you know . . ."

She trailed off into a nearly ominous pause. It made Jaune feel a bit nervous.

"Yeah?" For a moment, Jaune wasn't sure he wanted to hear what she might have planned,

"I hope you know I won't be taking it easy on you after today." Smirked Charlotte, "As soon as you're back to your old self again, I'm coming for you."

"Eh?" Jaune croaked,

"Once you're outta this funk of yours?" She continued, "It's on. I'm catching your sweet-sweet ass."

Jaune sighed, and it turned into a quiet chuckle.

"Okay." He relented,

"I'm not kidding, I will." Charlotte sounded pettish, "So you watch yourself."

Jaune thought it was funny. His chuckle became a giggle, but before he could really get into it, Charlotte broke the hug.

"What?" Jaune was confused.

Charlotte gazed at him, her piercing gaze softening to a pleasant gander as she wrinkled her nose.

"And there it is." She cooed sweetly,

"What?" Jaune wanted to know, "What's there?"

Charlotte's thumb skimmed his cheek.

"That smile." She told him.

Jaune blushed harder than ever, but his expression didn't change. He kept on twinkling, flustered, but content.

“That beautiful, handsome smile.” Once again, she pressed her lips into his forehead.

Jaune couldn't say anymore now. He just kept on smiling and hugged Charlotte close.

Shameless, though she tended to be, it felt good to be with her.

Especially now.

[maggie32432]

Promises - Finnick Odair Imagine (Part 1)

Finnick Odair and Sirena Nighthart both won their respective Hunger Games at age 14. Both from District 4. Finnick and Sirena both grow up in the Capitol, though keeping their distance from each other. What happens when both get reaped at the Quarter Quell for the 75th Hunger Games?

"Sirena! Sirena! Look over here!" A reporter calls as she turns her body to face yet another camera flash. Even after 9 years of being in the spotlight, she doesn't think that she will ever get used to this. 

Sirena flashes another big smile at everyone and gets guided up the steps to the stage. Nobody in the audience would be able to tell that she's sweating bullets, but she's never been this scared in her life.

Not since the games at least. 

As she approaches the stage, she sees Finnick Odair standing there by himself. He's the only male tribute alive to have won from District 4, so he already knows he will be participating in the 75th Hunger Games. 

Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark won the most recent games. The 74th annual Hunger Games, but ever since then the rioting has gotten worse. President Snow realizes that and he also realizes that Katniss is a symbol of hope to those who are suffering. 

Sirena was surprised to learn that President Snow allowed two victors, but the two of them managed to sell their love story so well that she supposes the rules were changed. 

She was only 14 when she won the 66th annual Hunger Games, so she has been in the spotlight for many many years now.  Her heart races as people surround her and say hello from every direction. She smiles and greets every person, but underneath she is always terrified.

The cameras are on her and the crowds of people from her district look up at the victors with pride. 

It's easy to put up a front for the people, but they don't realize how it is all a fraud.   "Well well well, Sirena Nighthart," an all-too-familiar cocky voice says, 

"Finnick Odair," she says with a forced smile as he offers her a hand as she walks up the steps. Both are past victors from District 4, so they have crossed paths many times since they were just children.  Finnick and Sirena won back-to-back games, both to be the youngest victors Panem has ever seen. 

They keep conversations light and casual whenever they get to see each other in the public eye, but both know each other's secrets. Of course, he never directly told her, but it's hard to both exist in the Capitol and not know about the prostitution he was forced into. 

The only reason she wasn't forced into the same situation is that President Snow wanted to keep her image to the public as 'pure' and 'innocent'. It's a joke. An innocent little girl who murdered 9 people.

She knows that she is Snow's pride and joy, though it makes her sick. 

Sirena stands on the other side of the stage beside Mags, her old mentor, and Annie Cresta. Annie won a few years after Sirena did, bringing even more joy to District 4 than Finnick and herself already had. 

Her heart beats out of her chest. Hardly surviving the first games alone, she doesn't know how it's possible to make it through once again for a second time. Especially against opponents who have all won in the past.

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

"The male tribute from District 4...Finnick Odair," the announcer says and Sirena closes her eyes, feeling nauseous.  "And the female tribute to represent District 4..." 

Everyone watches the small piece of paper be plucked from the bowl, thus deciding her fate, 

"Sirena Nighthart,"  The crowd roars in excitement and more cameras flash her way, and she flashes a smile. It is the most forced smile she's ever done. It is taking every ounce of strength not to start sobbing. 

Finnick walks over to her, also having his usual cocky smirk plastered on his face. He takes her hand and raises it into the air as the crowd cheers more.  She is trying so so hard to not let her body shake right now,  He continues to smile but then gives her hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Immediately a pair of hands lead her body away from the stage and to the train. It doesn't matter anyway...being an orphan and having no family to say farewell to.  The guards push Sirena and Finnick onto the train and the doors shut once they're fully in. 

"Looks like Snow finally upped his creativity level," Finnick says to her with a smirk as the guards lead them to another room, but she doesn't return the smile, "This isn't like the last time. Last time we were all nervous teenagers, now we're fighting skilled victors. Some of which are our friends," She says, 

"Good. Makes it more fun," he grins confidently and walks away down to the other end of the train. Her stomach churns in fear as she walks in the opposite direction to the couch at the back of the train. 

As she sits there she checks to see what other Victors have been chosen to fight in the 75th Hunger Games. The older ones will be easy enough, but the most recent ones are a scary thought to her. She learned a long time ago to trust nobody but herself. 

The train gets to the Capitol faster than she would've preferred.

She gets off the train with Finnick somewhere behind her. Making this into a joke is exactly what she should've expected from him, and honestly, she doesn't know how he manages to put up that front with their lives on the line. 

They silently enter the vehicles that take them to the towers where the tributes are all staying. This is when the real show begins.  Sirena's known all these people personally for years and has never seemed like a threat to any of them because she didn't need to.

Now she needs to. 

They walk into the building and suddenly are surrounded by people they know.  What she's noticed consistently are cameras. The stage, the train, the cars, and now here in this building. There are video cameras in every single place they've stepped foot. This is nothing new for either of them, knowing that Snow is watching each and every move they both make. 

Finnick walks a distance behind her, not that it matters since they'll be staying in the same suite anyway. 

They enter their respective bedrooms without a word.

[astrxlfinale]

In moments shared on the fleet, through laughter and silly adventures, it was only a matter of time before Guinaifen would find herself pulling her phone up; " ~ Caelus ! " she'd find herself calling for him, smile as warm as usual but perhaps a little more on the flustered side than usual. What, could one ask, was she up to now ?

Well, a hand would reach for his so she could pull herself a little closer to him, sides meeting as the phone would raise. Golden gaze shifted as finger tapped on the screen to find the camera application, soon displaying both their frames in the screen pointed at them. Guinaifen already knew that March was rather adapt at taking pictures, she had heard so many good things about them, but this... was a different kind of picture, this was of them. Something Guinaifen wanted to cherish in the moments they were apart.

"Would you... maybe want to take a picture with me?" she asked sweetly, thumb grazing his hand. "It's for me ! Not my social media or anything like that, I... want something to look back on whenever we're apart and we can't call each other ! We could also do a couple of silly ones, and I could send them to you ! Or, or -- we could do some cute ones, or with grimaces, like this -- !"

And out came her tongue, poking out for a short minute before breaking into a warm laugh. Anything was good. She just wanted to capture a few moments with him.

"I ~ could also kiss your cheek in one," she'd further tease, nudging their shoulders together, a faint tint on her cheeks.

Strange. In the best damn way strange could mean. It felt like since those days they've spent resting together, gradually building up new defined borders while sledgehammering any prior notes in the name of this new light they've woven together..

Life really has found itself transforming with a branch of the unknown that never felt warmer.

"Shoot, like I'd ever make you ask twice?" The response was enriched with that natural joy that sprung in his step. That mind of the Trailblazer flourished with a pleasant buzz whenever her sweet voice spoke his name. It was a sense of completion to this material world, a force he intends to grip tenderly within his indomitable fist. The way that boyish grin appears becomes a fine note of what she brings out of him, his own shade of gold giving even the finest shades a run for their money.

Things have changed between them. Where the lack of distance felt more natural, where their hands served as a bridge of loving connection, neither of them ever falling short to bask in that very opportunity. Just feeling the way her thumb drew their familiar paths across his rough knuckles led to that soft voltage to course, leaving him all too aware of one fact that kept pounding at the front of his skull.

The Xianzhou Luofu in its entirety had no clue just how blessed it was with Guinaifen's presence here.

An active effort had to be made to reel in his tenderness from spilling overboard. His initial response would be to return the squeeze of her hand, readjusting those fingers amidst her grip in a way that allowed for each one to be laced with the other, solidifying a hold that held no intent of ever letting go in spirit. Once more, another border he felt like was being hopped, that volatile, thriving current of emotion coming to a gradual realization.

...No, rather, he's recognizing what's burning between them with the clarity that always should've been there.

Just a note of that incoming suggestion that found itself playfully, near shyly noted at the tail end after they stuck their tongues at each other (truly picturesque!) had led to the view he's also come to notice a lot more lately.

A look woven for him, the sort that she's never bothered to give to anyone else. More and more did that distance find itself dwindling, and did Caelus absolutely ensure his weight always leaned in to match Guinaifen's.

"Yeah. I'd really like that." The answer was akin to a declaration underneath the light of this artificial sky.

Yet to the one who blazed through a growing number of words, this light was the realest.

For it was the very light that always allowed him to see these heavenly shimmers upon her figure, leaving him transfixed as that rush of heat found itself kicking up within his cheeks. Even then, amidst her saccharine smile, for a fleeting moment that typical, punk like look had settled as the crown expression at first, only to be cosigned by that reserved expression that left him looking bright whenever they shared space with each other.

It clicks the instant he gave her a nudge back, leading her complexion to brighten and steel those nerves in order to 'pay him back' for following that stroke of his heart, and how she repaid it in turn at different times, a constant stream of sharing that always left them feeling invincible and like fireworks were their very basis.

'She.. Really is one of a kind.'

Desire found itself manifesting into a decision.

While the anticipation of watching them through the lens anchored him, witnessing how her eyelids fluttered shut, how the soft warmth across her face hadn't dampened in the slightest in the gradual advance that intends to nail him on the cheek. Caelus would find his courage, allowing that racing heart to center it damn self as within that moment, he'd come to cant his head to the side, allowing those coral tresses to mingle with silvery ash as the direct sight of her expression briefly flickers across his vision, for a golden, sweet moment.

For his own eyes would come to a close. The distance between them would dwindle towards that special brand of nil, for he'd lean in, allowing that pressure to supply an answer of the Heart that Guinaifen long sense earned. No cheeks would find themselves blessed by either of their lips, rather, it'd be that very connection that sends a sublime power flowing through every damn nerve in his veins. The stark realization and surprise could be noted, practically feeling the tension due to his utterly unpredictable move in such an instance.

Caelus was kissing her. There were no second thoughts, no doubts, it showed clear within the way he'd let their lips tenderly mesh for a fleeting moment as an anxious sense of euphoria rocked his entire being in that moment. The idea of a picture was briefly forgotten within his mind, and he assumed the same for that planned picture hadn't found itself cemented in reality with a click just yet.

He couldn't let himself be lost to the sweet scent and creeping dose of an equally sweet taste forevermore, an explanation was due and that's what made him edge apart from her lips as a sudden breath was drawn in.

If she were to peek those eyes open, this time, he wasn't building any distance away from each other. No, the focus found itself devoted directly upon that beautiful face. A particular serenity balancing with that firm look of certainty.

"Would a picture like that work for us too? ..Gui? I want us to take as many as we want." Steady, steel yourself.

Be true to this fire that burns in her name. The answer was so damn simple. A mountain to surprise, but so amazing simple in it's nature.

He knows what he wants.

'I'm yours as long as you want me.'

"I want to be with you."

@avaere

[hbcsource]

Helena Bonham Carter’s Harper’s Bazaar UK interview | February 2023

A WOMAN SCORNED Helena Bonham Carter tells Lydia Slater why her latest role, exploring the life of the 1970s soapstar Noele Gordon, feels like restorative justice Those of a certain vintage may remember the ponderous sequence of nine guitar notes that were the signal to cluster around the television for Crossroads. Set in a Midlands motel, the soap was much derided for its flimsy sets, implausible storylines and clunky dialogue; nevertheless, in the mid-Seventies, the series was attracting 15 million viewers, and battling Coronation Street for ratings supremacy. The unquestioned star of the show was Noele Gordon, known to the nation as Nolly, who played the matriarchal, auburn-haired motel owner Meg Richardson (later Mortimer). The role had been created with Gordon in mind, and she remained Crossroads’ most popular character from the show’s launch in 1964 until 1981, when she was suddenly sacked. Her defenestration, and the reasons behind it, are the premise on which Russell T Davies has based his new three-part series, Nolly. ‘One of my very first jobs in TV was a trial script for Crossroads, and I’ve wanted to write the story of behind the scenes on that show for 40 years,’ he said. ‘Russell has always been a real supporter of the underdog,’ says Helena Bonham Carter, who portrays Gordon, complete with coiffure and carefully modulated accent. ‘He thought Nolly was really badly treated, and I think he wanted to give her the send-off and the recognition she deserved.’ Bonham Carter was ‘very aware’ of the soap as a child. ‘It was part of the perma-wallpaper, and I knew all the characters.’ She was immediately drawn to the complexity of the woman in Davies’ screenplay. ‘Nolly was a highly complicated character and a mix of many things – and not an easy mix,’ she says. ‘But I love playing people who are complex.’ Gordon was a child stage star who came from a modest background. She trained at Rada and went on to work both behind and in front of the television camera, becoming Britain’s first female TV executive; she helped Ned Sherrin and Reg Watson launch ATV Midlands in 1956, and was the first woman to interview a British prime minister when Harold Macmillan appeared on her chat show. Steeped in the workings of daytime television, Gordon was unafraid to voice her opinions on how things should be done on Crossroads. ‘She was outspoken, she was herself, she was utterly authentic,’ says Bonham Carter. ‘I think, frankly, she terrified the people who ran the show. And she was punished for that. It’s not new, is it, that women aren’t allowed to have a strong voice?’ Certainly, the first episode presents the ‘Queen of the Midlands’ as a daunting figure, swanning to the studios in mink coat and Rolls-Royce, changing a new character’s accent from Brummie to RP (in the teeth of the producer’s protests), and then playing an on-screen practical joke on the same rookie performer, after she dared to cast doubt on Gordon’s assertions of the programme’s popularity. But the series also shows how Gordon was greatly loved and respected by (most of) the people she worked with – particularly the actor Tony Adams. He played the motel’s suave, moustachioed accountant, Adam Chance, and in reality not only rented a flat from Nolly but was her closest ally – for, having been jilted by her fiancé, she never married or had children. ‘The show gave her a real sense of identity, belonging and purpose,’ says Bonham Carter. ‘She said she had two lives, as Meg Mortimer and Noele Gordon. And whenever she went to a hotel or a restaurant, inevitably they would take her to inspect the kitchen… the line was very smudged.’ As a result, Gordon lost far more than just her job when Charles Denton, the incoming controller of programmes at ATV, informed her agent that ‘all good things must come to an end’, a decision that this series lays squarely at the door of misogyny and ageism. ‘I think Nolly is quite right when she says, “You wouldn’t have sacked me if I’d been a man”,’ says Bonham Carter. ‘Men are allowed to be difficult and dictatorial. It really feels like Greek tragedy – she’s cut off in her prime.’ Gordon refused to take the decision lying down and complained to the press, resulting in national headlines, and sackfuls of irate letters sent to ATV from her devoted fans, while the series shows how producers retaliated by declining to tell Gordon how she would be written out and going to the extent of staging her fake funeral. Bonham Carter herself has never joined a long-running franchise. ‘Even after just two seasons with The Crown, by the end, with the best will in the world, you’re beginning to get a bit automatic – and if you’re faintly bored, it’s time to move on.’ Fortunately, at 56, her own career is as busy and diverse as ever. ‘We might have less collagen, but we’re much more interesting when we’re over 50,’ she says, with a laugh. ‘Life makes you more interesting, you’ve got more depth, the map of the soul is so much bigger if you’ve survived.’ Sadly, Gordon did not. She died of cancer in 1985, just four years after her sacking, while Crossroads itself only limped on until 1988. This charming series, and Bonham Carter’s portrayal, are a worthy tribute to a national treasure, and an overdue acknowledgment of the unjust treatment meted out to her.

[stillresolved]

"Wait, hold on," the view on Hyun's end of the facetime call moves precariously and wildly, clearly someone doesn't care how much motion sickness she inflicts onto whomever has the unfortunate fate of being in a call with her at this hour. But before the shaking can get seriously violent- "Wait, you'll throw up," - Hyun covers the camera with her hand. Which narrows down the people she could be calling down to two, because only for two would she care.

Or, rather, one, because Aeri escapes the treatment of Hyun showing up at her door. So it can only be Aeri.

"Here," the shadow disappears and Hyun's hand reappears at the edge of the frame, motioning at the letters gathering on her bed. "Hate mail. Physical hate mail. Like the internet isn't a thing or something. They send it to my agency and they just keep dumping it at my door."

A sigh, the noise of someone throwing themselves onto the bed, and then Hyun flips the moving sight back to the front camera. She stares up at the phone she's holding above her head. "Admittedly, it's not a lot, most of the shit still happens online, but... Would setting it on fire and then posting it be too much, what do you say."

((BESTIES!!!!!!!!!!!!! I actually can't know if Aeri would pick up a call in the middle of the night or so, so please feel free to ignore if it doesn't make sense >:33))

@mythvoiced / if she is your bestie, she is also your ride-or-die.

FEW PEOPLE ARE ALLOWED TO INTERRUPT HER SLEEP. And even if they are, they are hardly ever greeted with the model who bites her tongue. Everyone needs their sleep and models ( designers ) too are no exception. Something Aeri knows the rest of her family would scoff at her for; amongst all the night owls, she forced herself into being an early bird. Parties and social standings don’t feel nearly as relevant when there is the higher calling of timeless fashion to answer.

Still. It is Hyun and a lioness always tends to her own pride. Even if it is ass-o’clock in the morning.

That and Hyun, nonchalant and apathetic Hyun, Hyun’s voice is shaking. That’s more than enough reason to take the call in the sitting room. The dread collects in Aeri’s stomach all the while; they both know how cutthroat the industry is so if Hyun is calling her at this time, that can only the haters have only reached a new low.

“Slow down,” Aeri snaps, eyes bleary. “I’ll get a headache if you move your phone too much; we’re not shooting a horror film.” And yet the true monstrosity reveals itself from behind Hyun’s hand. Maybe it’s not really a monstrosity so much as a…

Her vision flashes red. She’s wide awake now. “Well then. Now we know your haters definitely don’t have a life outside of you. And your agency isn’t doing their job either.” 

Not that it was ever doing Hyun a service to begin with. If anything, Aespen Stars should be paying Hyun for putting up with their subpar services. It really is too bad that they also work for actors too; otherwise, Hyun would have no reason to stick around, would she?

The thing is, even if her best friend did jump ship, it doesn’t guarantee that it would be a smooth transition, would it? People like them don’t get to have that, not with the eyes of millions on them, watching, always.

 ( That is a thought though: AERI Designs doesn’t have to be just a fashion boutique– )

“You might as well make it an Instagram Story at that point. Catch it in action. Dispatch will love to see it. Maybe if you do it fast enough your agency won’t notice.” Not that Aeri thinks Hyun would actually do so. Just like the rest of the world, her agency is always watching. Still, there is still a situation to be dealt with and unfortunately, there’s only so much throwing money can do for the problem.  “...Drop by my place tomorrow. Or whenever your schedule lets you, Hyun-ah. If your agency complains, you can tell them I told them to shove it up their ass.”

[incaensio]

Katniss: [Coin] Thank you for your bravery in taking part in the mission to District Twelve. Few know devastation as intensely than those impacted by the bombings within that District. So I wanted to check in. How are you after witnessing the true aftermath?

they've lain off of her, these past days. katniss is under no impression this will be permanent, or even long lasting — she expects the tattoo in her arm to tell her a slot for the command room or propo filming, but it doesn't. there's almost a respectfulness to it she hadn't expected, to allow her some minimal mourning for cinna, but katniss is too cynical to entirely believe that; it's more likely she is so pumped up with sedatives they don't think she will do any good in front of the camera, or that she will attack someone, or just scream, the way she had done while they stood, helpless, watching her stylist and dearest friend getting shot live for all of panem to see. she sees it all the time, worsening her nightmares, in which executions are its constant scenarios now, only switching out the victim: cinna, annie, cecelia, amara, even thea and, of course, peeta. she's seen him dying so many times, in so many cruel ways, cried so often whenever she wakes up, she surely must have dried herself by now.

it's that happy thought that makes her willing not to skip on the meeting when its timestamp finally appears on her arm; she's surprised that this one is a quiet one, the room barely vacant if only for the usual guards, boggs, and the president. frankly, she'd rather have the opposite. that way, she could at least pretend not to be the center of attention — and, at times, it's actually true; there's only so much the face of the rebellion can do, and they certainly doesn't think talking and planning is one of those things — but that's robbed of her. coin's voice is uncharacteristically saccharine, but katniss' expression remains impassible, tension still in her spine, wariness trying to remain strong even under the diminishing sedation. she's been around another president with sweet words, and she's sworn not to make that mistake twice. don't trust them, katniss. she doesn't.

that's not to say her words doesn't spark with the truth — katniss had tried to stand strong, spending hours going around the town, then the seam, then the woods, walking, talking, sharing, even singing, but that strength feels all gone now. she can still smell twelve, feel the way it felt under her heel, taste the bile that rose up her throat. she tightens her jaw. "not great." ever eloquent, she thinks. maybe she should work harder, considering she has been told several times that the cost to fly her to other districts is enormous, but it's not like they're doing this for free or for the goodness of their heart. surely some of what they've filmed must have aired, even before cinna's death — they're always quick with those things, in here (she'd complain if she wasn't glad that the fastest they did this, maybe the least all of this would drag out).

"twelve's not what ailin' me, though." she looks down from the wig to the woman's eyes for the first time since she's entered the room. "how much longer you're goin' to wait to get 'em out, ma'am?" the reference is as pointed as her words. "are you waitin' for another execution?"

[mellowsadistic]

Pride

Nancy walked over to her shelf, trying to ignore the noisy crinkling coming from between her legs, and placed her newest trophy alongside the others. It was a prestigious award for exceptional journalism – an impressive achievement, especially for a woman still in her twenties. The highlight of her career. She ought to feel thrilled, she knew. In fact, she would have been only a month ago. But over the last few weeks, her life had become nothing but an endless series of humiliations, ever since she’d received that damned letter. Even now, remembering its words sent a shiver down her spine.

I know you lied in your last article, Nancy. I have proof. Unless you want your reputation destroyed, you’re going to be a good girl for me.

For a week she’d been left wondering what the blackmailer wanted from her. Money? Nancy wasn’t absurdly rich, but she had enough to pay for a high-rise apartment and a fairly luxurious lifestyle. Or would he want lewd pictures? Nancy was an attractive young woman after all, even if she did normally keep her impressive figure hidden beneath a smart, dignified suit. But no. The blackmailer had wanted something else. Something much, much worse.

Nancy turned to look at herself in the mirror, and felt the now-familiar heat rushing to her face. Your articles are always dripping with scorn. It’s clear to me that you think you’re so much better than everyone else. You need a lesson in humility, Nancy. And I know just the thing to help you learn.

Nancy trembled with shame and anger as she took in her appearance. On her head, she wore a white baby bonnet. The blackmailer’s rules stated that she had to wear it whenever she was alone. It was bad enough putting the ridiculous thing on when she was in her own home, but it was even worse having to wear it in her private office, trying to do her work as a serious journalist when the edges of her vision were framed with frilly lace, and she was constantly worried someone would walk in and see her. But there was no avoiding it, not when she had to set up cameras to monitor herself wherever she went. So I know you’re being a good girl.

A large pink pacifier sat between her lips. She had to have that in her mouth whenever she was alone as well. Sometimes her blackmailer gave her instructions, telling her to suckle and slurp on her soother for an hour or so, making sure to dribble all over herself. Then he would refuse to let her clean herself up, insisting instead that she go out, even in public, with her chin still slick with drool. Nancy hated him. She hated all of this! At work, her dummy was clipped to the front of her suit – but at home, that was impossible. When she was in her apartment, Nancy wore absolutely nothing else on her top half, unless you counted the bibs she had to tie around her chin at mealtimes. Her sizeable breasts were left completely bare, free to wobble and jiggle about on her chest as she went about her business, cringing at the thought of some pervert leering at her tits from behind the many cameras she’d been forced to set up around the flat.

But worse than the bonnet and the pacifier, worse than walking around bare-titted, was what Nancy had to wear around her waist. The award-winning journalist seethed with fury as her eyes travelled down her tummy and over the massive disposable diaper sagging heavily from her hips. It was clearly full to the brim with pee-pee. She shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other, as if trying to get away from the disgusting, infantile thing. But her wet nappy just squelched unpleasantly between her thighs, swinging like a pendulum. She’d been wearing it all day, praying none of her coworkers noticed the pissy smell that surrounded her, and she desperately needed a change. But there was something Nancy had to do before she was allowed one. Not content to force her into ludicrous adult diapers and make her piss her pants like a two-year-old, her blackmailer had some additional rules – like how she wasn’t allowed a change until her nappy was totally full. And for him, that meant poopy.

Nancy shot a look of utter hatred at the nearest camera, even knowing that with the bonnet framing her face and the pacifier between her lips, it would surely only make her look even more laughable. She wished desperately that she could get her revenge. She was a top-class reporter! She was rich and successful and beautiful, and she was too good for bibs and bonnets and stupid, stinky diapers! But who was he?! Someone she knew? Someone she’d offended in one of her scathing articles? Even with all the letters, and the cameras that had to be broadcasting to somewhere, all Nancy had found where dead ends. That had been another blow to her ego. Investigating was what she was best at, and she hadn’t managed to find anything out about her blackmailer at all! Worse, he’d found out what she’d been up to. Stop digging, she remembered. Or you’ll get an even worse punishment next time. She’d been instructed to spank herself until her poor little bottom was bright red that day, then stand in the corner for the whole afternoon. She hadn’t been able to sit down for a week after that.

Nancy’s bottom lip trembled behind her dummy, and her face turned an even darker shade of red as she got into position right in front of the mirror. I want you to see exactly what you are, Nancy. With one last look of loathing at the camera, the ace reporter scrunched up her face, grunted loudly to herself, and, on what should have been the proudest day of her life, she squatted down and started filling her nappy with a big, yucky mess.

“Uh-oh!” she squealed, just like she’d been ordered to do. Her face burned with humiliation. “The big, tough wepowter’s making a stinky! I guess I’m not so gweat after all!”

[yanderechuu]

do any of the teachers ever notice the things happening to y/n? (i headcannon Mic and Midnight as yanderes that would give advice to 1A lol)

yandere!Class 1A x fem!reader

[2.1K]

Summary: Aizawa is the first one you approached in regards to your certain predicament.

Warning: nonconsensual recording

│

Aizawa suspected something wasn’t quite right by the moment he saw you entering the class a minute before the bell rang, all haggard and teary-eyed, though you tried your best to obscure your disposition. He always knew you to often be in a state of discomfort whenever you were compelled to socialize, especially with your classmates, but now - you looked as if you reached your limit of holding the weight of the world on your shoulders, crashing down all at once as depicted on your crestfallen expression. 

And when you showed up in front of the faculty room, timidly soliciting his presence, his suspicions were only further verified. Even with a pending question regarding subject matters in your mind, you weren’t one to approach a teacher to inquire about it, and if you did it was because the teacher was the one who would ask your attendance; never the other way around.

Present Mic was the first one to acknowledge you. He stood up from his office chair, waving at you comically. “Yo, (l/n)! Having trouble with English again?”

You never had a problem with his subject; he only insisted that you’d come to him in regards to that. “N-no, not really. May I speak to Aizawa-sensei?”

“Talk with me instead!” He enthusiastically spoke and headed over to you. “Come on, what’s the matter?”

“It isn’t your place to ask that when I’m here.” Aizawa interceded, clearly unimpressed by Mic’s antics. He failed to see the latter’s displeased countenance. “(L/n), what is it?”

You avoided eye contact with him, averting your view to the ground - that was alright. You were always like this, and he didn’t mind. Nothing out of place except for the fact that it looked as if you were about to cry any moment now.

“Can we- can we, um, talk somewhere more private?” You asked quietly.

His brows raised in wonder at your request. Nevertheless, he didn’t decline you, only nodding lackadaisically before heading towards the teacher’s lounge, where you followed him suit. He flicked the door tag to ‘occupied’ and entered the room after you, when he told you sit on the three-person sofa situated not quite on the farthest left of the space. Then, he settled himself on the chair across you.

“Well?” He asked, expectantly.

But you had once again your head above a thick cloud of anxiety. You knew that after the event with Momo in the girls’ locker room - where you had injured her against your will because she had been violating your personal space - your homeroom teacher kept a cautious eye on you in case you’d re-enact that incident. And it wasn’t just that incident that made him look at you like you were a criminal on the loose, either. Your classmates found and did a lot of ways to place you in Aizawa’s naughty list just so you wouldn’t snitch on their abusive (they’d call it affectionate) behavior on you.

That didn’t erase the fact that you were nevertheless his student; he cared for you no less than he cared for his other pupils, yet you were just too ignorant in figuring that out. All that mattered to you was that you’d voice out your current concern to him, but with your insecurities holding you down it seemed it would be more difficult than you had primarily foreseen it to be.

“I-I,” you stammered out, fiddling with something inside your pocket, “u-um, you see, t-there’s this, I mean, I can’t-”

He grew increasingly frustrated with your constant stuttering, and although he did understand your shy nature which largely affected your conversational habits, he only had so much patience to deal with it.

“I don’t have all day.” He stated, glowering at your form in mild irritation. “If you’re going to keep doing that, talk to the wall.”

You abruptly halted in speaking after that, only looking down on your lap, staring wide-eyed, grief-stricken at the revelation that perhaps he really did not want to heed any of your words because you were just that bad of a student that he had decided you were not worth much the effort to concern himself with. And maybe he was right - that your words didn’t matter because you didn’t matter; that there were more affairs he better be tending to than yours; that you were only making a big deal out of this when it truthfully wasn’t.

Oh god, you felt like vomiting. Self-deprecation was getting the better of you.

He stood up and sauntered to the exit, not bothering to spare you a glance. “Come back to me when you actually know what you want to say.”

It was a matter of seconds when you ran to him, pulling him back rather harshly by the grip you had on his sleeve. He turned around due to the force to see your head still hung low, avoiding his gaze as always - only, your shoulders were quivering sporadically, and occasional sniffs were heard from your person.

“P-please, sensei...” you voiced out, shaken and horrifyingly delicate. “I-I’m so scared. Please.”

While he looked at you with contracted irises, countenance now alert from your unexpected disposition, you pulled your trembling hand out of your skirt pocket, nervously disclosing to him from your palm a small, black device with a tiny yet prominent lens.

“M-my room,” you heaved, “I-I saw this i-in my room, m-my closet, while- while I was dressing up, and I don’t know how long it had been in there but it probably already caught me bare and-”

You broke down in a flurry misery and shame, allowing yourself to fall to the ground but you didn’t - Aizawa seized you in his arms, his gentle, fatherly arms that could only do so much to console you from the horror of your reality. And he held your head as you cried on his chest, one little thing he could do after ignoring your situation and letting you think that your significance was less than the rest of his other students. At that moment, you were just so little, so fragile, so naïve he’d keep you in his pocket if he could. Why would someone do something as debauched as illegally recording your innocent self?

“I’m sor-sorry,” you sobbed, “I’m really telling the truth, p-please-”

“Shh, it’s okay. I don’t doubt you.” He reassured. Why were you apologizing? Were you that insecure of being a nuisance? No, no, you never were. Not to him. He reached for your hand to take the cursed device. “Since when did you find out?”

“J-just this morning.” You responded.

“Alright. Do you want to rest? This must have taken a huge toll on you.”

But you still had classes ongoing. Then again, you didn’t feel like looking at the faces of the prime suspects who possibly did you dirty, even when you knew that you’d have to eventually interact with them to get notes of your missed lessons. You were so tired from summoning the lot of your courage to confront your teacher regarding your problem, so you probably wouldn’t have the energy to listen to class discussion. Aizawa finalized your decision by pulling you up and guiding you towards the office of Recovery Girl who, after being briefed of your predicament by your homeroom teacher, welcomed you with a warm smile, telling you to make yourself comfortable in one of the beds in the infirmary.

He then made his way to 1A classroom, a newfound swelling of rage and disappointment in his chest, both forwarded to his class and to himself because only now did he realize that perhaps you were often so restless and apprehensive in the presence of your classmates because they did things that made you bury yourself in the deepest parts of your shell as a last attempt to revel in a sense of safety. Your timidity was not entirely derived from your own nature; it was also due to the maltreatment you were receiving from your classmates. Halting his steps by the classroom door, he looked through the glass window, seeing the class focusing on Midnight’s lecture.

Well, not quite. He could tell that your classmates were visibly affected by the lack of your presence, glancing at your desk from time to time as quiz papers were being passed behind - so they were in the middle of a test, he guessed. But that wasn’t his concern.

In impudent manner, he walked in amid Midnight’s talking, disregarding her face’s sudden morphing into vexation as the students gave him a look of confusion.

“Eraser, what are you-” she was rudely interrupted as Aizawa took the test reference papers from her hands. Something about Modern Hero Art History, he read. He faced his class with disdain, stating,

“Until someone confesses their crime of hiding a spy camera on (l/n)’s dorm room, all of you are receiving failing marks on this test.”

Quite suddenly, the class burst into violent upheaval, gasping, perking, some allowing the dreadful news of your situation to sink in, others letting out noises of complaint before actually taking consideration to the main point of Aizawa’s statement. Midnight stared at him in disbelief, but did nothing to stop his measures.

Momo abruptly stood. “I-is (y/n) okay? We should go check on her!”

“No, you shouldn’t.” Aizawa said. “All of you are suspects. You’ve no right to see her.”

“She probably just made that up get back on us for whatever fucking reason!” Yelled Bakugou.

“Yeah?” The male pro-hero disingenuously mused. He then picked up the spy camera and held it for everyone to see, before setting it down the teacher’s podium. “This was found on her closet. Would she risk recording herself naked just to prove that point?”

Noise died down thereafter, setting their sights solemnly at the device, the class collectively having the same thought in regards to the spy camera.

(Why hadn’t they thought of that? It could have been easier to check on you that way, since you almost always confined yourself in the privacy of your own room.)

“So? No one wants to speak up?” Aizawa asked, though expected the silence.

“Aizawa, have them approach you after classes. It’s embarrassing this way.” Midnight intervened.

“Well that’s the point. Get them exposed to the entire class, so everyone could realize how much of a perverted bastard one of these to-be heroes are. Good values, my ass.” He replied, not bothering to filter rather colorful vocabulary. “Where’s your dignity?”

He let a minute or two pass for the perpetrator to reveal themselves, but soon it became apparent that whomever they were refused to admit to their crime, willing to sacrifice the grades of the class for the sake of anonymity. That would be deemed useless, anyway, because Aizawa was already set on figuring out whom they were, no matter the extent he’d go to in order for that to happen. He’d expel them at once.

But he didn’t have the power to expel someone outside of his class.

“I guess that’s it for your test.” He sighed, disgruntled, picking up the small camera and sauntering his way out of the classroom after giving Midnight a look that he was dead serious with marking all of them a failing score. She stared at him in uncertainty, nonetheless abided by his decisions, albeit hesitantly.

Upon ascertaining his absence, Midnight turned to Class 1A, amusement and humor dancing on her seductive countenance.

“Naïve, hormonal teenagers,” she mused, “the closet, really? Couldn’t you have chosen somewhere less conspicuous?”

None of them bothered to tell her that they were truthfully unaware of the incident.

===

Hagakure Toru, stealth hero, entered your room silently in the nude, the only proof of her movements being a tinier, different spy camera she’d brought along with her. No, not the closet, you might find it again. It looked so painfully obvious on the desk, too, and neither in the bathroom due to its pale white interior. 

But on the pencil holder situated atop your nightstand would do. You barely moved it, anyway, only having its purpose served as a decoration; something to fill the vacancy of the bedside table. After a few adjustments in camouflaging the device with the environment and making sure the lens displayed the area of your space, Hagakure checked its concealment one more time, before mechanically heading outside and back to her own dorm. 

Her body collided almost violently with her room’s door, snapping her out of her trance. 

“H-huh!? Weird... how’d I end up in my room?” She asked, receiving no answer from particularly anyone.

But Shinso Hitoshi could provide her one, if only he weren’t outside, staring at your terrace from five stories down your room, a gratifying smirk donned on his features. Now, the only thing he had to do was dismantle and relocate the gadgets wirelessly connected with the camera Aizawa had confiscated.

[girls-scenarios]

Dreamcatcher’s Reaction to their S/O Being a MMA Fighter

Prompt: If request are still open I'd like to request dreamcatcher's reaction to their girlfriend being a mma fighter. Thank you for all your hard work on this blog 💗

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: Was anyone else able to catch Dreamcatcher on their world tour? I was lucky enough to see them live and they were incredible! I absolutely adore these girls and I'm so happy that they're finally getting the attention they deserve. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy! - Admin Kiwi

JiU: "You know, you'll always be cute to me. I can't see you as scary!" While your muscles and overall strength would be something that originally attracted her to you, Jiu wouldn’t be able to see you as anything other than her adorable, sweet partner. She would often tease you, asking who you were switching yourself out with when you got into the ring and asking where her baby went, making you flush and try to wave her away, insisting that you were always cool. Of course, she would always remind you that you’re basically a cuddly teddy bear with her. While she would often worry about your health and safety, she would trust that you knew what you were doing and would cheer you on no matter what, wanting to help you achieve all of your dreams in any way possible.

SuA: "Yeah, they're mine! Aren't they so cool?" Listen, there is NO ONE that wouldn’t know that the two of you are dating. She would brag about you constantly, to literally anyone who would listen, flipping her hair and proclaiming that her partner was famous and strong and the best fighter in the ring, and she was willing to fight anyone who said differently. She would be your biggest fan and supporter, always right there in the front row whenever her schedule allowed, never embarrassed about showing just how much she loves and cares for you. Of course, her cheers would always bring a flush to your cheeks, and she would REALLY love that, taking pride in the fact that she’s the only person who can make THE fighter (Y/N) flustered.

Siyeon: "Teach me how to fight! Please?" Siyeon likes to work out, so she would only become more interested in gaining physical strength and lifting once the two of you started going out, since it would be an interest that the two of you shared. She would often tag along with you on trips to the gym, using her skills with a camera to snap flattering photos for your social media before actually working out herself. You would inspire her to get her own personal trainer and the two of you would often play-wrestle, with you often letting her win even though she always complains about you going easy on her. She would love seeing how excited you got about fighting, though. She would do her best to go to every fight you were in and would ACTUALLY fight anyone who jeered you if you let her. Although she would sometimes playfully critique your style after a fight, she would always be in your corner, the first person ready to shower you with praise (and kisses) once you were done.

Handong: "Woah, you're so strong...." Handong would really, really like your muscles. In fact, she would notice them right away (although she wouldn’t admit that until much, much later). Of course, she would quickly fall in love with your personality too, but it would be your strength that she always brought up first when talking about you, subtly bragging about how you carried her bridal-style whenever she was tired and pick her up like it was easy. “Ah, my partner, (Y/N), I’m sure you’ve heard of them, right?” She would be prouder of you than anyone, always keeping track of your achievements and helping you celebrate whenever you won a big fight. Of course, she wouldn’t be able to resist teasing you a bit, over-exaggerating her reactions when you worked out in front of her or asking if you were showing off whenever you carried her groceries, but there would always be true admiration behind her words. Trust me, when you’re around, she’s not looking at anyone but you.

Yoohyeon: "You should show me some moves! It looks so cool!" Yoohyeon wouldn’t know a ton about your job, but she would be immediately interested, especially once she saw just how strong you were. She would playfully ask you for tips at the gym, just as a way to flirt, only to get flustered when you actually gave her some, rushing to write down everything that you were saying. Later, you would tease her about this big time, making her whine and exclaim that she just wanted to make a good first impression, is that so bad? In all seriousness, she would quickly become your right-hand woman, wanting to learn everything about the sport because she wanted to learn everything about you. She would like showing off the moves you taught her to her friends in order to teach them too, knowing it would be helpful for self defense as well as fun. She would also attend as many of your fights as possible, cheering for you cheerfully and even making you personalized towels and water bottles to show just how cherished and loved you are to all of your fans (and subtly showing everyone that you were hers, too).

Dami: "Just don't get hurt out there, okay?" Dami wouldn’t think too much about your muscles or your strength when the two of you first met, because to be honest, she wouldn’t know much about MMA. Sure, she would be impressed, but it wouldn’t be something she focused on, more interested in hearing about your life and your hobbies. However, once the two of you started getting closer and you told her more about your job, she would be interested, but also worried. Whenever you came home with bruises or cuts, she would flutter around you, telling you to be more careful as she fixed you up with ointments and well-placed kisses. Still, no matter how much she worried about you getting hurt in the ring, she would also love seeing how passionate you were about fighting, and she would know she could never ask you to stop. So instead, she would be your quiet, sweet support on the sidelines, making you promise to fight hard and come back to her safely and joking that she would fight you if you got hurt.

Gahyeon: "I want to learn how to fight too. Is it fun?" Gahyeon would be so excited when she first learned about your job and the sport. Her eyes would quite literally light up and she would clasp her hands together, immediately asking you to teach her how to beat someone up with such a sweet smile that you couldn’t help laughing and falling for her, hard. She would literally have you wrapped around your finger, and so you would quickly teach her basic moves, while warning her to please not use them on unsuspecting, innocent people. She would love being picked up and cherished by you, and would brag about you to anyone who would listen, telling them all about your fights and making you sound almost like an Avenger. Of course, you would melt in front of her, letting her beat you in play fights and bending down to kiss her as soon as she asked, but she would love seeing you get into the ring to fight, because to her you were the coolest person ever. She would cheer for you like a coach and then smother you with love after each fight, always making you laugh with her sweet, bubbly, and yet slightly bratty and feisty personality, no matter how the fight ended.

[comfortbucky]

Hey! If requests are still open I was wondering if I could request a fluffy fic where reader is having a bad day and Bucky notices and cheers them up? 💗💗

HELL YEAH!!!

REQUESTS!!! ARE!!! OPEN!!!

𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗸𝗲𝘁 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ｡˚ ☁︎ ˚

pairing: bodyguard!bucky x fem!reader

warnings: anxiety, anxiety attack

tags: grumpy!bucky, bodyguard!bucky, fluffy bucky!!!

A/N: okay i have never written bodyguard!bucky before but i just thought it would be such a sweet concept to see him being soft🥺

sorry if the ending is kind of bad😭 i didn’t know how to quite wrap it all up, but i hope u enjoy!!!!!!!! <3 i had so much fun writing about bodyguard!bucky!!!!!

word count: 2.9k

my masterlist!

completed requests!

Y/N groaned as her phone alarm went off and hit snooze for the fifth time. She reached her hand out, head facing away and resting on her pillow, fumbling for her phone to turn off the incessant sound. Before she could shut it off, the noise stopped. Y/N turned her head slightly to see a large, dark figure in the corner of her eye. She turned her head fully to see her bodyguard with a frown on his face as he shut her alarm off.

“Your alarm, it’s annoying,” Bucky grumbled. “You should get up anyways, busy schedule today.” He walked out of the room before she could respond. Super soldier hearing was no joke if he was able to hear her alarm from his bedroom down the hall. Y/N sighed as her face planted into the pillow.

She was not looking forward to the events planned out for the day. During the day, there was a slew of interviews she had, back to back, and at night, a gala she was being forced to attend by her father.

Being the daughter of a wealthy tech tycoon had its perks for sure, but Y/N did not consider all of the press she did as a part of them. She never liked being in the spotlight but was forced to be, a birthright she had. Growing up with her dad, she’d developed a fascination for tinkering with computers, game consoles, and everything in-between. She spent a lot, practically all of her free time, with her dad when her mom had passed away. Her dad ended up throwing himself into his life’s work and she worked with him closely in the beginning, but slowly started to drift apart from him as she started to make a name for herself.

Earlier that week, her dad had sent her a text, informing her that a big announcement would be made at the gala. Big parties and large crowds weren’t really her thing, but it seemed like she didn’t have the option to avoid this one.

She got ready for the day, walking down to her kitchen to see her bodyguard, Bucky, sitting at the table, reading a book. As soon as he heard her come down the steps, he stood up and put his book away.

“C’mon, we’re already running late,” he mumbled, making his way to the door. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, grabbing a granola bar as she briskly followed behind him.

When her dad became a big name in the world of tech, the last thing Y/N thought she needed was a bodyguard, but her dad felt otherwise. It took one, very close call, of her almost getting mugged for her dad to immediately assign a personal bodyguard for her. She insisted that it was unnecessary, seeing that she was a fully grown adult, but her dad refused, as he was the one paying for Bucky’s salary.

Bucky had always been rather closed off since the beginning, and not much had changed since he was first assigned to her a little over a year ago. He kept their relationship very professional, only speaking when necessary and leaving the room whenever he wasn’t needed. She had tried to get him to open up more, learn about his past, but he always shut her questions down by either ignoring her or changing the topic to discussing something work-related. He was an enigma to her, which only left her wanting to solve the mystery that was James Bucky Barnes but couldn’t seem to crack the code.

Her first two interviews went smoothly, exactly what she was used to. A couple of questions about her current projects at work, some about her dad sprinkled in, and what she had planned for the future. It was a format she was used to and had come to appreciate, not exactly enjoying being the center of attention. During her last interview, however, she was caught off guard by one of the last questions she was asked.

“I know this might be an awkward question to ask, but I just have to! The people want to know: do you think your dad’s ever going to return to the dating pool?”

Y/N choked on her saliva. She knew her dad was an attractive man, seeing posts on social media of people fawning over him. Although she found it to be very weird and uncomfortable, she just brushed it all aside, not wanting to think about it as it only led to her thinking about the loss of her mom, a sore spot for her.

Y/N cleared her throat and forced out a chuckle. “I think that’s a question only he can answer, I don’t always know what’s going on in that crazy head of his.”

The interviewer laughed and proceeded to transition into the next segment. Y/N quickly thanked the interviewer and left, Bucky swiftly following behind. He had a feeling that something was off, as Y/N would typically stay behind to chat with the interviewer, crew members, even the service staff, whenever she finished an interview. It was always something he admired about her, how down to earth she remained, despite all of the privileges she had. She went out of her way to thank everyone on set, no matter how small their role might seem. He always told the drivers to pull the car up a little later than originally planned, just so she would have the extra time to talk.

Y/N pushed the doors open, only to find an empty street. She turned around and gave Bucky a curious look.

“Sorry, the driver just texted me,” he said, as he sent a text to the driver, telling him to come now. “He’s running late.”

Y/N nodded and leaned against the wall, looking down to fiddle with her hands. Bucky leaned against the opposite wall, facing her, his arms crossed over his chest.

“You okay?”

Y/N looked up at Bucky to find a gentle look in his eyes, slightly taken aback at the sight. She always found herself drawn to his piercing blue eyes, but they usually had a colder glint to them. This was a look she’d never seen before.

“Yeah, ‘m fine,” she replied, averting her gaze down as she felt her cheeks flush at the sight of Bucky’s soft gaze.

The car arrived, cutting off Bucky’s train of thought as he was thinking of what to say to her. For a moment he debated on continuing the conversation in the car but figured she already had a long night ahead of her and didn’t want to push any further.

After a quick pit stop back to Y/N’s place, allowing her to change into an evening gown, the car headed to the venue of the gala. Bucky got out of the car before her, walking around to the other side to open her door. Before she stepped out, Y/N took a deep breath in and exhaled, plastering a fake smile on her face as a surge of flashing lights from cameras greeted her. Bucky watched, seeing her seamlessly transform from Y/N, the girl who needed to set a million alarms before actually waking up, to Y/N, tech extraordinaire, one of the most powerful people in the tech world.

Once they were inside the venue, Bucky stuck to his usual routine. Scope out the exits, look for any potential threats, and make sure Y/N was in his eyesight. Bucky kept close by but also kept his distance. He wanted to make sure that he gave her enough space whenever they were out, knowing that having him around was her dad’s idea and that she wasn’t too fond of having security detail in the first place. So he did everything he could to make himself blend in with the crowd, allowing her to roam freely, only following her when she moved out of his line of vision.

Y/N walked around, not knowing a single soul but making polite small talk with the rest of the guests. She became accustomed to knowing how to act at these types of events over the span of her adult life. Food, drinks, more food, home. Crowds made her uneasy, but she always felt calmer when she saw Bucky in her peripheral vision. Y/N would never admit it out loud, but over the last year, he had become a constant source of relief at these public events. Just knowing that he was there if she felt uncomfortable, unsafe, or wanted to leave early made her public outings much more bearable.

“Hey, sweetie! I’m so glad you made it.” Y/N turned around at the sound of her dad’s voice and smiled, moving in to hug him.

“Yeah well, you said you had a big announcement, so I figured I’d stop by,” she joked, eliciting a chuckle from her dad as they pulled away from each other.

“I’m about to make it now,” he started, placing his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “And I was wondering if you could join me on stage for it? I know that’s not your thing, but it would mean so much to me, Y/N.”

While she absolutely hated the idea of having to stand in front of thousands of people, she reluctantly nodded. Y/N and her dad had slowly grown apart the past several years, only talking a couple times a month to catch up. With both of their busy schedules, they always seemed to miss each other. Despite their growing apart, she would do anything for her dad, especially if it meant so much to him.

Bucky slowly followed behind, as Y/N and her dad walked up to the stage. Y/N glanced behind her to give a slight smile to Bucky, to which he nodded back. He stood backstage, watching them from behind the curtains.

“Hi everyone, thanks so much for coming out tonight,” Y/N’s dad spoke into the mic. She was standing beside him, hands clasped in front of her, trying to look calm and not totally anxious.

“Since the success of my brand, people have said that I am a man who has everything. And I definitely have a lot to be thankful for, my company, my friends, and most importantly, my daughter.” Her dad extended a hand out to point to Y/N and the crowd cheered. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. Despite his brooding attitude, he had come to grow fond of Y/N, being able to see her for who she truly was. She was smart, witty, and had a heart of gold.

“The only thing I’ve been missing,” her dad looks down at the ground for a second, before looking back out at the crowd. “Is someone to share it all with.” Y/N’s smile faltered and felt her stomach drop. She couldn’t fully register the words coming out of her dad’s mouth.

“After Sarah, my wife had passed, I didn’t think I would be able to love again. Until I met Alyssa.” Y/N was frozen in place upon hearing her dad’s confession. She’d never heard of anyone named Alyssa during any of their catch-up calls and now he was saying he loved her? Y/N quickly turned as a woman walked out on stage. The woman walked over to her dad and he wrapped one of his arms around her waist before speaking.

“Now I feel complete, now I have everything.” He pulled Y/N to him and wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, smiling for the cameras ahead. There were a lot of strategies Y/N had devised over the years to deal with potential unexpected and uncomfortable situations in a composed manner to avoid having a PR nightmare.

She didn’t have one for this.

Tearing herself from her dad’s hold, she ran off stage, heading towards the exit that led to the outside. Y/N took in the fresh air, trying to stop her hyperventilating. It wasn’t working. Her chest felt tight as she began gasping for air, struggling to take in oxygen.

She was having a panic attack. It was nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but it had been so long since she’d had one. The last time she remembered, was at her mom’s funeral.

Her mom. Her dad. Alyssa.

Her thoughts were pushed aside as her vision blurred, her eyes swelling up with tears. Y/N felt like she had no control over her body and shut her eyes, allowing the panic to consume her.

Then, a firm, but gentle, warm feeling in her hands.

Y/N blinked her eyes open to reveal Bucky, standing in front of her. She looked down and saw that it was his hands in hers, holding them tight.

“Can you breathe for me, honey?”

His voice came out in a soft whisper, accompanied by the warmest and welcoming smile. She shook her head, unable to control her quick and rapid breaths. Bucky squeezed her hands a little tighter, rubbing his thumb in small circles on the back of her hand.

“Yes you can, just breathe with me, okay?”

He started to breathe in and out slowly and eventually, she was able to follow his lead, deciding to focus on his eyes. There was that look from before the ride to the gala, the gentle look in his eyes. She’d always felt that his blue eyes reminded her of stormy seas, but now, now they made her think of the calmness of the ocean in the early morning, waves crashing softly on the shores.

As she regained her composure, she realized she’d been staring into Bucky’s eyes for, probably, far too long. Bucky felt her tight grip on his hands loosen and reluctantly let go of her hands. He immediately missed the softness of her hands and how small they were in comparison to his much larger, calloused, hands.

“T- Thank you,” she stuttered out, her gaze locked on the ground, as she placed her hands to her sides.

“It’s no problem. I get them too,” he replied. She looked up at him as he clarified. “Panic attacks. PTSD from serving overseas.”

Y/N face drops, her stomach churning at the thought that Bucky had ever experienced panic like she had. She returned her gaze to the ground as a silence washed over them.

“He didn’t tell me about her,” she spoke in a quiet voice. “Never brought her up once. But I guess she must be pretty special for him to do all of this.”

Bucky stood a couple steps in front of her, seeing teardrops fall from her face. She lifted her head up to wipe away her tears, her hands shaking from anxiety. Y/N placed her hands on her face and started to sob.

She was slightly hurt by the idea of her dad loving any other woman than her mom but knew that he’d have to move on eventually. What hurt her the most was the fact that he didn’t tell her, not until they were on stage, standing before a crowd of people. It was too much for her to handle and she reached her breaking point.

Bucky’s heart dropped at the sight. He cautiously stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her tightly. Something his PTSD had taught him was how pressure from a hug could help relax the nervous system and calm him down. He held her firmly in his arms until he felt her breathing slow. She looked up at him, remaining in his embrace, her eyes glassy from crying, nose red and sniffly. Bucky felt his heart skip a beat and immediately pushed the thought away.

“You wanna leave, honey?”

She nodded in response, staying in his arms for just a second longer before pulling away. Y/N longed for his warm touch, feeling like a child who had their security blanket taken away. It didn’t help that it was also cold outside, sending a chill down her spine.

Bucky noticed and shrugged his suit jacket off to wrap around her shoulders. She beamed a smile at him and he smiled back.

The pair walked around the outside of the venue to find the car when they ran into a mob of paparazzi, shouting questions at Y/N about her sudden exit. Like a reflex, she grabbed hold of Bucky’s hand and he gave her a comforting squeeze as he cleared a path towards the car.

Bucky and Y/N were sat next to each other in the car, which was not the typical seating arrangement they usually had, usually sitting on opposite ends of the car. But Y/N hadn’t let go of his hand, not quite ready to separate herself from his warmth. Bucky had absolutely no problem with that, mindlessly rubbing his thumb against the back of her hand. She felt safe. She always felt safe with Bucky around.

Y/N felt her eyelids become heavy, struggling to keep them open. She was exhausted from her long day, and her panic attack had taken most of her energy away.

Bucky felt a weight on his shoulder and turned his head slightly to see Y/N’s head resting there. He felt a warmth rush to his cheeks and smiled, resting his head on top of hers.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky,” she mumbled, keeping her eyes closed. “You always make me feel so safe.”

Bucky felt a surge of tenderness rush through him. That was all he ever wanted to do. He wanted to keep her safe. He kissed her forehead, causing her to snuggle closer to him.

“Of course, honey. I’m here, always.”