Blurb - Blog Posts

The reader trash talking the characters in a cinema then Tom overhears and debates or agrees with their reasoning. Both striking up a conversation until being shushed. 💗

a/n : it took me so long to finish but here we go! i want to thank my friend jess for encouraging me 🥺

warnings : a few swear words and probably lots of typos

tom promised you to see onward with you the second you said you couldn't attend premier, unlike his family. he was sad, you were sad but there was nothing to do so you both had to wait until he came back.

finally, you were at the theatre with him and couldn't suppress your big smile. tom could see how happy you were, both because being able to see the movie and because seeing it with him. you were a smiley, excited mess until the second period of the movie.

he realized how furiously you were eating the snacks and your frown which made him smile slightly. it was funny sight for him and he was enjoying every second.

'dumbass,' you spoke under your breath unconsciously. but tom heard that.

'why is that, love? and try to chew them slower, i'm worried about your teeth at this point...' you giggled at his words and stopped chewing before speaking;

'well, where to start? ian is a sweetheart. the cutest character i've ever seen and deserves every good thing. did you realize that ian is literally your alter, tom? that arm thing? ears? of course you did ugh! and barley? he is pure but keep acting like a dumbass? he better gets a grip or he'll catch these hands,'

hearing your words made tom laugh quietly. he was sure you were going to get kicked out before the movie ends since he knew how movie ends.

things were going downhill in the movie and all you wanted to watch was ian and his dad's union. but OF COURSE things didn't go as you expected. you know you shouldn't have talked but you just couldn't stop? 'look, i KNOW barley was already old enough to remember him and some of the things they did together and ian was a baby, i got it. but don't you think it was a bit cruel to make him watch his father and his brother rebond one last time while he was stuck there? i just.... feel sad.'

well, tom was sad too. he cried at the premier because of this scene and when a fan approached him for a selfie later, he was still teary eyed. you thought it was cute.

'ian didn’t get to meet his father, and that’s because it wasn’t part of his character’s journey – it was barley’s, darling. barley didn’t get to say goodbye to him. ian never met him,so his journey was all about discovering that his brother was the one who had always been there for him and helped raise him, whereas barley’s was all about closure. this made ian sacrifice his one chance to meet his father so barley could say goodbye to him, and so ian doesn’t really have any unfinished business when it comes to his father. personally, i wanted them to meet t-'

'hey guys, can you keep quiet?'

tom snapped his head towards the intrupter and mouthed 'sorry man,'

'sorry! and the movie is about to finish bro... he voiced him so he has a few rights to talk if you ask me.'

tom threw a warning look before turning back and apologising once more.

'darling i'm glad you liked the movie and wanna chat but you can't use the fact that i voiced ian. it won't save us next time.' tom smirked. 'but i accept your compliment.'

'excuse me? tom i swear-' you smiled after taking a deep breath. 'when it's time to eat rich, i won't hesitate about you, b!tch.'

you stared at each other before started wheezing, 'ouch, y/n! you hurt me,'

'that's what you deserve for coming at me,tommy.' tom's heart fluttered with the nickname, he raised your hand to kiss the back of it.

you weren't in a relationship but you both knew you weren't just friends, not anymore. and did you want to be more than what you are so bad...

it was the moment tom decided to make a move, cross the line and hope you'd be okay with it. so he leaned forward to kiss the corner of your mouth. it took a few seconds to react, was this happening? while watching... onward?!

pulling back, smiling, eye to eye you both let a breathy 'wow,' and giggled. tom kissed your nose once more before diverting his attention, seeing credits are scrolling.

'i know it's silly but... onward is about magic... a-and i'm so glad it made us a thing.' he whispered hesitantly, raised your hand to kiss your knuckles and hide his rosy cheeks.

a sudden rush of affection made you hug his torso tightly. this was all you wanted, what you dreamt for so long.

'it's not silly,' you caressed his cheek before leaning for a kiss. 'not at all, tommy.'

★𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Proofread:sorta

Wordcount:308

WARNING: mentions of murder,stabbing and someone going missing.kissing/making out.it sounds like they’re having sex but they’re not, just making out.

A/N:I love like dark Matt.not necessarily tough Matt but like 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 Matt ykwim.

𖦹 𖦹

My body began to heat up as our toungues danced passionately.my weight in his lap never seeming to bother the boy.I ran my fingers through his hair in order to bring myslef down to earth again.I slowly moved up in down.His hands made their way to my waist on instinct.

I pulled away when I ran out of breath.once I regained awareness I stared at him.taking every feature of his in.his messy dark brown hair.his pink cheeks that stood out compared to the rest of his pale complexion.his blue eyes that pierced my heart like icicles.everything I about him was perfect.

“I would kill for you”the boy who I was admiring abruptly said.he’s always been a romantic like that.

“Oh really?how would you do it?”i asked teasingly.

“I would stab them and then burn the body”he said as if it was something I should’ve known.

“Oh wow that was fast.you think about this a lot huh?”i asked again.not thinking anything he was saying meant much.

“Everytime i see you with another guy”my boyfriend answered.

“Well if you burn the body then they would just be missing and the cops would find out.what about that hm?” I questioned. at this point I really did want to see how much he’s thought about this.

“They wouldn’t give a shit.”he answered nonchalantly. “Unless its someone important they look for like a week and then give up”

“Okayyyy but murder is a sin.”I stated, hoping it would throw a wrench in his ‘plan’.

“All sins are forgiven baby”he darkly retorted.not giving me time to ask anymore questions before he pulled me back into a kiss.his tongue hungrily searching my mouth.

The thought he would kill for me was really hot.it was also reassuring to know we share that same idea.he’ll never know that though.kinda like how nobody knows where his ex went.

★𝐇𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

word count:305

proofread:yupp

A/N:this is my first like writing thing so sorry if its bad :p

WARNINGS:mentions of reader being insecure about her body

𖦹 𖦹

y/n had always been jealous.even just the thought of her boyfriend talking to other girls made her fists clench and her head run wild with theories and worries.it wasn't her fault.sure she didn't mind when mutual friends that happened to be girls would hang out with him but when he went on world tours and did meet and greets she couldn't help but wish the girl he had met was her

she was the most beautiful girl he had ever met.she couldn't even compare to any ex or crush he's ever had.and even if she could,who was with him?

features that she thought were just there or dare he even say ugly look perfect to him.even when she felt as if her skin didn't fit right on her bones,or that her stomach wasn't flat enough,or that her body wasn't good enough for him, he let her know that he loved her body just the way it was.

so on the late nights where she was scrolling through tik tok,looking at videos of people thirsting over him.she would look up from her phone only to see him staring right back at her.admiring all the things he had seen a million times before but somehow never got sick of.this was why she never let her overthinking get to her.

none of the fangirls.old and young.could have what she had.he was hers,and that was his dream come true.

5+1 | s. todoroki

the five times he almost confessed (and the one time he did)

when you were laughing so hard you couldn't breathe

the common room was loud in that cozy, familiar way—someone had turned on a movie, kaminari was yelling about the plot inconsistencies, and a half-empty popcorn bowl had already made two laps around the room. shoto wasn't really paying attention to the screen. he was sitting off to the side, legs folded neatly under him, arms resting on the back of the couch, his eyes on you.

you were laughing.

not the polite kind you gave during class or the half-hearted chuckle that came after a bad pun—no, this was the full-body, head-thrown-back, tear-filled kind of laughter that made everyone around you start grinning too, even if they didn't know the joke.

and it was over something dumb. kaminari had tripped over mina's fuzzy slipper and face-planted into kirishima's protein shake. chaos followed. you were absolutely losing it.

shoto watched as you grabbed your stomach and gasped, "oh my god—that was the dumbest thing i've ever seen—" and wiped at your eyes like it hurt.

he felt something twist inside his chest. something warm and terrifying.

he should tell you. he should lean forward, tap your shoulder, and just say it—i like you. i think i like you more than i'm supposed to.

but then you turned to him, smile still wide, and said, "what? why are you looking at me like that?"

and he panicked.

shoto shook his head, lips twitching just slightly. "nothing. you look... happy."

you beamed at him.

and the moment passed.

2. when you fell asleep on his shoulder

it was movie night again. the common room was quieter this time. only you, him, and iida, who had already fallen asleep thirty minutes in, glasses askew and arms crossed like a disappointed father.

you had slowly started leaning on him as the night wore on, drifting closer each time you yawned. he didn't move. not when your head tilted, not when your hair brushed his collarbone, not even when your hand settled lightly over his.

eventually, you dozed off completely. he could feel the rise and fall of your breathing, soft and steady, against his side.

shoto stared straight ahead at the flickering screen, but his heart was slamming against his ribs like it was trying to break out.

"i love you," he whispered, so quiet he wasn't sure if he actually said it or just imagined the shape of the words in his mouth.

you shifted slightly, brow furrowed, murmuring something incoherent.

he froze. held his breath.

but you didn't wake up.

so he stayed still. and didn't say it again.

3. when you got your heart broken

it was raining. of course it was raining.

you showed up at his door soaked and shaking with the kind of smile that didn't reach your eyes. he opened it without a word and stepped aside to let you in. you toed off your shoes, jacket dripping on the mat, and mumbled, "sorry. i didn't know where else to go."

he handed you a towel. "you always know where to go."

you sat down on his bed, towel wrapped tightly around your shoulders, hair clinging to your face. he made tea. it was silent, but not the uncomfortable kind. it was the kind that let you breathe.

"he broke up with me," you said, finally. "said i was... 'too much.' whatever that means."

shoto sat beside you, mug in hand. "it means they're an idiot."

you laughed, but it sounded hollow.

he wanted to say more. he wanted to tell you that you were exactly enough. that your laugh made the world quieter in his head. that your presence was the one thing that didn't overwhelm him.

but instead, he said, "you deserve someone better."

you leaned your head against his shoulder.

and he didn't move.

4. when he thought you might be slipping away

training had been brutal. everyone was sore, tired, and half-dead by the time aizawa dismissed them. but you looked worse than tired. you looked distant.

you hadn't texted him back in two days. you missed lunch. you didn't sit with him during the bus ride back. and he noticed—every bit of silence, every missed message, every glance that used to last longer.

so he waited outside the locker room, arms crossed, heart pacing faster than his footsteps ever could.

"hey," you said, blinking at him in surprise. you looked like you wanted to smile, but didn't quite manage it. "you okay?"

"i miss you," he said, too blunt, too honest.

your eyes widened a little. you laughed it off, but there was a crack in it. "i'm right here, shoto."

he looked at you. really looked. your hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands. your eyes tired. your mouth tugging into something that wasn't quite a smile.

"yeah," he said. "you are."

but he didn't believe it. you were standing in front of him, but you felt like you were disappearing by the second.

he thought about reaching for your hand. about saying the words out loud, finally. but instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets and watched you walk away.

and he didn't say what he meant.

5. when you almost died

the explosions echoed down the street like thunder.

shoto didn't wait. he was already moving, already tearing toward the smoke, already deaf to the ringing in his ears and the shouts behind him. his vision blurred. his heartbeat drowned everything else out.

they said you were last seen inside the collapsed building.

he didn't think. he didn't breathe. he just ran.

the debris was everywhere. the smell of ash, blood, and panic choked the air. he called your name once. twice. again.

and then he saw your hand.

half-buried. covered in dust and cuts. but moving.

he dropped to his knees and started digging, calling your name again, voice shaking. his fire flared too hot, too close, and he forced himself to calm it—you couldn't get burned. not by him.

when he finally got to you, you were barely conscious, lips split, blood trickling down your temple.

"stay with me," he said, voice low and sharp with panic. "hey. look at me. you're okay. i've got you."

you mumbled his name. tried to smile.

he gathered you into his arms and held you like something sacred. he didn't let go until the medics forced him to.

that night he sat beside your hospital bed, fingers wrapped around yours, head bowed.

"i have to tell you," he whispered. "i have to. i almost didn't get to."

but your monitor beeped steadily, your face was still pale, and he couldn't bring himself to add anything more.

not yet.

so he waited.

+1. when you didn't let him walk away

it was late.

the dorms were quiet, shadows stretching across the hallway as he leaned against the railing outside. cold wind brushed against his cheek, but he didn't mind. he stood there, staring at nothing, waiting for the weight in his chest to go away. it didn't.

you found him like that, barefoot in socks, hoodie too big, voice small as you whispered, "you okay?"

he turned to look at you.

the wind caught your hair. the moonlight made your eyes look softer than usual. you looked tired, but more than that, you looked worried. for him.

he looked at you like he always did—with something like awe, like fear, like you were the sun and he wasn't sure if he deserved the warmth.

"i keep trying to tell you something," he said.

you stepped closer. close enough that your shoulder brushed his.

"then just say it," you whispered.

he hesitated. how many times had he rehearsed it? how many times had the words caught in his throat, choked back by fear or timing or circumstance?

you didn't move.

"shoto," you said softly, eyes never leaving his, "if you don't say it now, i think i might."

his breath hitched, and for the first time, he didn't flinch.

"i love you," he said.

it came out quieter than he meant it to. barely a whisper. but it felt louder than any explosion.

you smiled.

"finally."

then, you leaned in and kissed him, slow and sure, like you'd been waiting forever. and maybe you had.

he kissed you back like he was making up for all the times he didn't say it.

and finally, finally, he didn't have to wait anymore.

Today I tried to dress like a character (because usually I’m dressed like a bum) so I’m wearing like wide leg jeans, this purple turtle neck, a little gold chain and a beige knit vest that hugs my girlies pretty nice, with my white cowgirl boots, an oversized green army jacket and my headphones. And I’m waiting at the train station and I see ANOTHER character coded person with tattoos all up their (pretty muscular) arms and neck, ripped jeans, bright colored shoes, that matched his headphones, and at least 3 layers very specifically exposed their tattoos, chains on their belt and just an outfit that radiates this persons vibe so distinctly. And we were both kinda bopping to our headphones on the platform and it made me feel very much like a cross over episode where two characters from different shows (Supergirl and Flash, or Hannah Montana and Wizards of Waverly Place, or Supernatural and Scooby Doo) meet and maybe the plots intersect, but maybe I’m just Jesse and he’s just Adam Sandler and Ganganam Style is playing in the background.

Have you ever read a fanfic so unhinged and absolutely out of pocket that you have to stop and take a break and think about what’s actually wrong with you and why you’re reading it. I feel so ashamed, embarrassed, shocked and confused all at once afterwards.

been feelin a lot like this recently:

reblog if u relate xDDD

Sometimes I'll be scrolling through Tumblr, and I'll see a post that I'll relate to, as is the human experience. But I don't reblog a lot of things, because it feels to me that if I do that without setting up a 'name' for myself, for lack of a better term, no one will want to be friends with me, so I think, oh, I'll just post that but in my own words and I realize, no, just be yourself -_-

Don't know why I'm posting this, but hey, gotta post to get followers ✌️ anyways I'm just making Mac and cheese 😂 wait. Is it Mac and Cheese or Mac n Cheese? I'm gonna stop now.

i could be a good mother

synopsis: random baby moment!!!

characters: geto, shoko, gojo

a/n: dont ask how fem reader and shoko had a baby its omegaverse ig

main masterlist

GETO

the house is still wrapped in early morning silence, the kind where the birds havent called yet. the kitchen smells like butter and maple syrup, and the only sound is the soft hum of getos voice.

hes at the stove, robe hanging loosely off only shoulder, hair tied back in that bun, messy and unfairly handsome.

and beneath that robe?

a small lump, his baby, tiny, wiggly, with two bare feet poking out.

shes hugging his leg, cheek smooshed against his tricep, thumb in mouth and hugging her stuffed bunny to her belly, eye fluttering.

geto stirs pancake batter with one hand, preparing the pan with the other.

you peek into the kitchen, still in pajamas.

“shes under your robe again..” you mumble sleeply.

“mm.” he doesnt look up. “yeah.”

“why are you cooking with a baby under your robe..”

“she crawled in” he replies, droppjng the butter jn the pan. “i didnt ask questions.”

you raise an eyebrow. “youre not going to take her out?”

“shes fine, shes warm, shes not crying.” he shrugs. “im multitasking.”

a sleepy squeak comes from under his robe, followed by the softest little “dada” as she wiggles a bit.

he glances down, pulls up the robe just slightly. “you good in there, kiddo?” a muffled sigh answers him.

“shes good,” he confirms.

you try to act unimpressed, but your heart is gone. melt. you walk over and wrap your arms around his waist.

“she loves you so much,” you murmur.

“mhm.” he leans down to kiss your temple. “im warm. i feed her. im shaped like a blanket. what not to love?”

the pancake sizzles softly in the pan. your daughter shifts a little under his robe, safe and sound and not planning on moving.

geto just stirs the batter like hes done this a thousand times. like this — baby under robe, you on his hip, quiet morning light— is exactly where he was always meant to be.,

SHOKO

the first rays of sunlight shined in your room though the half opened blinds. you shifted slightly, trying not to disturb the bundle curled against your chest.

your daughter, barely six months, let out a sleeply sugh and snuggled closer

you dont remember falling asleep with her on your chest, or sleeping with a blanket on. but you had a idea of who was responsible.

footsteps padded quietly into the living room, and you smiled before even looking at who it was.

“you were asleep for like 5 years.” shoko said, her voice amused as she makes her way to the couch. she was in one of your sweaters andher shorts with a mug in her hand. “i put her there while i made breakfast for you.”

“little brat, she didnt stop crying at 5am.” (sho)

“dont be mean, she takes after yo.u” (yn)

“i, for the record, have never woken you up at 5am.” (sho)

“right.” (yn)

she rolled her eyes but doesnt argue. she leans over to kiss your cheek, then the top of the babys head,

“wanna switch? breakfast is on the table.” (sho)

“cant believe you cooked.” (yn)

“i ordered them, but i plated them nicely.” (sho)

you giggle, trying not to wake the baby. she stirred, then slowly blinked up at shoko with sleepy eyes.

“morning.” shoko whispered, her voice suddenly higher pitched and sweeter.

she scooped the baby from your arms with esse, cradling her.

the little one grabbed her hoodie, babbling nonsense, staining shokos clothes with spit in the process.

“shes already messy” shoko said.

“shell fit right in then,” you said, stretching your arms as you stood.

there wasnt any chaos this morning. no cursed spirits, mo sorcery politics. just soft footsteps in a quiet home, a baby giggling kn shokos arms, and ihop in the kitchen.

you kiss shokos lips as you passed by. “thanks for letting me sleep in”

“anytime” she murmured. “weve got all the time in the world now.”

GOJO

the sound of splashing water and giggles drifted frlm the bathrlom, drawing satoru like mouth to flame. he already had a camera in his hand, he had grabbed it on instinct the second he heard you two laughing.

he stopped in the doorway, heart squeezing at the adorable sight.

you were in the bathtub, hair in a messy bun, shoulders glistening from the water, and steam coming from the bathwater. and in your lap was his baby girl, her soft hair sticking up in every direction, cheeks round and pink, her tiny hands smacking the water.

“thats just not fair, you guys are sooo cute!” he whispered with a gron.

you glace up “satoru? is that your camera, again?

“uh huh” he said “you think i would miss this? im documenting everything.”

you let out a breathy laugh. “your not taking pictures of me in the bath”

“i absolutely am, you look like an ethereal goddess. this is gonna go in the family album, smile!”

before you could respond, your daughter squealed with a gummy smile, reaching toward him with slippery hands. water sloshed over the sides of the tub.

satoru melted on the spot.

“i mean come on,” he said, lifting the camera. “look at her. look at you. how am i supposed to not take pictures?”

he snapped a picture as you tried (and failed) to hide your face behind the baby. it came out a little blurry, a little crooked, but perfect all the same.

“alright, just one more,” he said softly, crouching down. “smile for daddy!.”

you didnt try to hide this time. you looked at him—hair damp, arm wrapped around your daughter, love written all over your face—and he pressed the shutter. click!

he lowered the camera. “im the luckiest guy in the world.”

you smiled. “we know.”

you daughter babbled something and slapped her hand against the water again, splashing both satoru.

he blinked, water dripping down his cheek. “how rude.”

you giggle. “thats what you get.”

satoru huffed, pulling off his shirt. “fine. guess im joining in.”

he climbed into the tub with the two of you.

the camera was forgotten on the bathmat.

though the picture was added to the family album.

big bathtub for a big sorcerer (gojo)

Blood Rain | Katniss Everdeen

Pairing: Katniss Everdeen x fem!reader (District4!reader)

Summary: Your mission in the games was to get the victors who the love of your life wanted to be allies with. You did it, but it is never easy.

Warning/s: angst and fluff, this is really just a little blurb, blood, blood rain, death, madness, weapons, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: Send requests for Katniss, Johanna and Cressida, I BEG YOU ALLL!!!

Where the hell is Finnick?!

Your angry thoughts continued to swarm you as you forced your legs to move along towards the beach. The beach. Water. You would quite literally kill for a few drops. All of you would.

Your feet were sticking to the leaves on the ground of the giant jungle due to the blood that covered you completely head to toe. The knifes pressed onto your suit were slightly digging into the skin of your legs as you took bigger steps, trying to get to the water at the Cornucopia as fast as you possibly could.

The biggest mistake you could have ever made was separating at the beginning of the games and now you had to suffer the consequences. Not that you had any choice, really.

When your platform raised up, putting you in the place from your nightmares you were standing quite far away from Finnick. The flash of the bright rays of sunshine were blinding you for a while and before you knew it you had to jump off of the pedastil. However you faced a major problem once you got in the middle of the water. You were rounding up Beetee, Wiress, Blight and Johanna who weren't able to swim. But once you did round them up you were attacked by Enobaria and Brutus. You couldn't fight them on your own as you tried to help your allies. You had no choice, you had to leave the idea of joining Katniss, Peeta and Finnick like you planned to. You had to run for the shore and loose yourselves in the vines and thick threes.

And that's how you ended up alone with Wiress, Beetee, Blight and Jo for a few days. You were severely dehydrated already so you were very happy once you heard something light hitting the leaves of the trees all around you. Only one thing could make those sounds. Raindrops. Now you could only imagine the shock planted onto your face once you realized that the things that were coming down onto you and your allies was not rain. Well, not rain made out of water. It was blood. It was burning you and was covering you too quickly.

This torture lasted for what felt like ages, but once it finally came to the stop you still didn't get out of the forest immediately.

As you ran ahead of the rest of the group, trying to escape the nightmares held within the forest, the living nightmares that tried to get you, the only thing on your mind was the safety of your lover. Katniss. God, you hoped that she was alive.

You didn't see her since the night before the games. You were lying with her in her bed, bringing her comport after yet another life inducing nightmare with which you were a little too familiar with. You met during your Victor's Tour the year that you won, but you became inseparable the moment she volunteered for the games to save poor Prim.

She was your everything. If you lost her you were sure that you wouldn't be able to pull through. So the moment Finnick and you heard about the rebellion you didn't waste a second, you joined immediately. You immediately accepted to join the plan of keeping the mockingjay safe. To get her out.

The moment you stepped out of the forest, yelling for your allies you heard the voice that belonged to an angel shout your name. It was the voice of your angel.

You tuned around as Katniss practically jumped on you, hugging you so tightly that you felt like you couldn't breathe. But it didn't bother you at all. The thought of her was one of the only thing that kept you going for a very long time now. You wrapped your arms around her quickly, afraid that she would disappear.

"What happened, Y/N?" Finnick's concerned voice brought you to reality, you had to separate from Katniss so you moved yourself away so you could look at Finnick but you never moved your hand that felt right into Katniss' away.

"It was horrible," You admitted, sighing a bit. "Jo, Blight, Beetee, Wiress and I rounded up at the beginning, but then Enobaria attacked us by the Cornucopia."

The rest of your allies that came from the forest weren't far away from you. Johanna was right on the other side of you, sticking her axe into the sand on the beach as she desperately tried to catch her breath. Beetee was leaned over, still in pain from the knife that he received in the back. Wiress was walking in the circle around you constantly repeating "Tick-Tock" over and over again. All of them were covered in blood just like you were.

The sight alone brought an uneasy feeling in Katniss. She looked at you once again, clear signs of dehydration were there along with the heavy breathing as you still tried to get the air into your lungs and the fact that you looked like you bathed in blood was enough for her to gripp your hand tighter in hers.

"We had no choice but to run for the forest," You continued your story, Finnick's pair of sea green eyes mirroring your own, a reminder of where you come from, watched you intensely as you spoke. "We stayed there up until now."

"What then?"

"Tick-Tock."

"We heard the rain coming down, but it wasn't rain." You ran your free hand through your hair as you let out a sigh.

"It turned out it was blood. So much blood. It was falling on us, choking us. We were stumbling around trying to get here gagging on it blind. But then Blight hit the force field..." You looked down, grief swallowing you at the reminder of Johanna's face at that moment. "And now he's gone..."

"Tick-Tock."

"What's going on with her?" Peeta asked, looking at Wiress.

"She's in shock," Beetee said as he removed his glasses, wiping his face while he tried to get rid of the blood that covered him. "The dehydration isn't helping. Do you have fresh water?"

"We can get some." Katniss' soft voice next to you spoke and you turned to her again, your eyes full of love.

"How about you go wash up?" Finnick smirked at you, obviously catching the look that you send Katniss. You just glared at your district partner, but you listened and started to walk towards the water, pulling Katniss along with you.

You're not letting her out of your sight again.

As you washed the blood off of yourself, your hair, suit, knives and everything you talked to Katniss. You felt like you could listen to her forever. And at the moment when you dove into the water completely to get the rest of the blood to go away Katniss followed the suit. You never took your eyes off of her as you watched her place her hands on your face, giving you warm smile, the smile that was only reserved for the ones she loved the most, before she pulled you in, locking your lips with hers. Away from the cameras for a few short moments.

From that moment on you swore to yourself that you would follow her anywhere.

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@caroline-books @thecrowdedstreetin1944

Hiiii this is the anon that requested the KK headcanons 🤎🤎

Literally perfect omgg thank youu

*going off the hair one* I bet you five bucks and some fries that KK has definitely worn her gf's wigs (if she wears them) for shits and giggles. If her gf doesn't wear wigs, then KK is definitely playing in her hair products, to the point where her girl gotta lock her shit up for her own peace 😭

LMAOOO YES OMG

she's so sneaky with it like, "guys, i did my edges today. how do they look?"

and you're always getting on her about using your hair products (cause they're expensive asf for no reason) but you lowkey think it's cute. she offers to buy you some more anyways.

and if you wear wigs she she definitely begs you to install one on her too just out of curiosity. she'll be walking around with a 30 inch buss down with a dumbass smile on her face.

she'd love watching you do your wigs in general tho. like going off of my one hc with the hair tutorial, she'd be asking you a bunch of questions or offering to help you flat iron in places you couldn't reach by yourself :p

"What the fuck are you doin?" Katsuki just woke up, glancing to the clock, noticing its still really late. He rolled around with a soft huff to look at you. "Nothing Kats, go back to sleep." He heard you answer softly, closing his eyes again, still sleepy. Meanwhile you - Nail polish in one hand while the the other softly grabbed his rough one - trying to see if the demage from him turning around destroyed your work. Humming softly trying to make your already doozing off boyfriend to fall into his 'deep sleep state' again, you opened your nail care kit, looking for a color that will match yours. Taking out what you need and putting the kit on your bed side table, you got back to work.

Of course, he needed to throw a fit the second he woke up to see his nails done, all shiny and and all that.

But its hard to take his fit seriously after seeing him wear them proudly, Threatening anyone who made any comment about them <3

Bakugou having a soft spot for his gf

Its not like you two told everyone youre dating, one day you just decided to start a relationship after long time of dancing around eachother. There was no big announcement to your friends that now you date Katsuki, but you also didnt hide it either. If someone asked you whats going on with you two, you would answer honestly, and you think Kats would do the same.

But Its not like anyone would ask, even if they are not 100% sure, they can see all the signs.

They see how his angry look becomes soft the second you enter the room, how all his attention is on you when you say or do something in the common area. He even shares his spicy ramen with you! And dont get me started on the movie nights with bakusquad, how he lets you rest your head on his arm, going completely motionless when he realize youre asleep. Only barking at the rest to "shut the hell up" when they are to loud, ignoring the teasing from his friends. Oh and the little, almost not visible smirk appearing on his face when you ran up to him, all happy and proud of yourself after you won the training match, giving you a quick pat on the head and a "good job" making you smile even more. Also the little sleepovers in your room? Mina still cant stop laughing when she remembers Bakugou sitting on your bed, watching a movie with you while you apply a face mask on him 😭..

Yeah, you dont need to tell them youre dating. The actions speaks for you two <3

The Winter Recital

A/n; this was so rushed, I am so sorry, I tried

Warnings; fluff?

"How do we plan three weeks in advance, and you're still unprepared?" Rafe grumbled, watching you toss through your closet. "In my defense," you didn't miss his teasing glare, daring you to justify it," a lot can change in three weeks."

You are headed up to St. George in Bermuda for the holidays, exquisite, isn't it?

Kildare had a history of celebrating Christmas, but their more glamorous festivities are usually around summer and spring.

Not that you minded, but this was you and Rafe's 2nd Christmas together. And it had to be nothing like the last one."I'll buy you something when we get there, if we can get there," Rafe offered, tugging you out of your closet.

It's just nerves. He was also escaping his family for the holidays.At least until New Years. Somehow, Rafe had managed to get you out the front door and out to the dock where your ride awaited. You skipped ahead, now your turn to urge your boyfriend along.

"Cool your jets," he was being weighed down by the luggage you wanted to bring. The only thing of his he carried was his wallet. Lord knows he would need it. Especially when you had wanted to double the 20% tip he was already leaving the driver. The cabin was quaint and festive, ribbons tied above the door and looped throughout the staircase in bright green and scarlet. It smelt of pine and cinnamon as you were led through the house, admiring the decor as you did.

It was so homey, and Rafe knew it was perfect when you disappeared up the stairs, leaving him to haul your luggage through the doorway. "I'm never going back home" was your official declaration. And that wasn't even the best part. Amist raiding the insanely sweet hygiene products, in the bedside the you found a holiday card for the guests of cabin 8, "Rafe," You called, hearing his hurried steps, you chuckled to yourself, flipping the card over. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, everything is perfect," you handed over the card, watching a defeated sigh leave his lips, but a look of curiousity flash as he skimmed over it's contents.

"Okay? It's just a welcome card." Just a welcome card? "It's scented," you snatched it back scratching at the back, your dull nails denting the card, rather then the patch.Rafe sighs, tossing you his keys which you fumbled but then caught.

"Why did you bring these?" "That's what you're worried about? They're my house keys, they were coming with me even if we went to the North Pole." There was his Christmas spirit.You shrugged at the point, racing the keys over the card, bringing it up to your nose, inhaling deeply. He simply watched, a slight scrunch in his nose, watching you cuddled paper.

"It can't be that good," he grumbled, stepping forward to be met with your shoulder as you turned away.

"It's better than your cologne," you teased, to which his smile sank into a pout, "you love my cologne," "Yeah, but..." You drew out, another long, excessive inhale, "This is my new favorite." The parchment was ripped from your face, folded half heartedly, "enough of that," he hummed, tucking the card into his pocket.

"Don't be sad," he wrapped his massive arms around you, rendering yours to your side, his heavy head falling against your squared shoulder.

You tried to shake him off, managing a slight twist before giving up. You were only getting out if he let you out.And strangely enough he did.Something replaced the warmth of the scented card, something stronger, muskier and thick. Rafe's cologne. "Now I smell like you," "and you love it," he argued.

The night went on like that, playful banter, and gentle affections, eventually you crashed in the living room by the the brick fireplace.Rafe wandered down the steps in a low hanging towel, another working at his wet hair, his attention landed on your curled up form on the couch. You're resting in front of your unopenned briefcases splayed out on the fur rug.

To his surprise you were in one of his flannel curled up against the velvet couch.

"You packed three suitcase just to wear my clothes?" he scoffed playfully, picking up a shirt of the floor. The next morning you two woke up snug on the couch, your head in Rafe's lap and his arm around your shoulders.

"Hey, hey," he gently whispered nudging your shoulder, "Merry Christmas," his lips ghosted over the she'll of your ear.

Your elbow jerked into his stomach instinctively, earning a groan into your ear. He leaned back scooting against the couch, resting his head against the pillows.

Don't worry, he's was gleefully dancing around the kitchen to some old vinyl you found, and making hot chocolate late into the day.

And it wasn't all bad, you took a walk around the town, visiting stations, and you spent time in the store spending Rafe's money.

At that point he had trade you his wallet so he could carry all of your bags.

You returned back to your cabin after all of that and crashed to watch some holiday movie waiting for nightfall.

When it did you asked Rafe to help you pick an outfit to which he kept responding "you look great in anything."

It was frustrating as it was flattering.

You ultimately ended up with fur coat, (Rafe's) and a sweater dress with wool leggings, just in case it gets cold. And it does, but it also snows, Rafe's hand holding yours as you walk side by side, your other hand smearing it from every availabe surface.

You go out, party, dance, but your favorite part of the night was the couple's cooking contest. To participate in your favorite tradition of the night, and to also be with the one you love unlike last year.

Now the cooking was slightly over cooked, but it looked pretty. You didn't win, but you had fun. You did however get voted for best chemistry, earning you a wreath around your neck, wrapped in ornaments, chesnuts and a classic mistletoe.

"You owe me a kiss," Rafe teased, to which you scoffed, nudging his shoulder.

"Under the mistletoe, remember?"

Rafe grumbled beneath his breath, his hand reaching for your arm, "What're you doing?" you asked, feeling him squeeze your elbow.

"Mistletoe, remember?" He carefully picked you up, you squealed your feet leaving the ground.

Still, you attempted to balance yourself against his shoulders, resting your arms, his hand wrapped around your waist, the other sliding up your back, guiding your head down to his.

And you share a gentle kiss, his lips cool against yours, and your tension melts, allowing you to soften in his grasp. He smiles against your lips, letting out a breath of cold air, "ready to take this back to the cabin?" You nodded against him, leaning back in.

A/n; This will have a couple parts. I haven't finished part one of s4, but this is loosely from what I've seen. With a twist ;)

Warnings; fluff, slight angst, no Jiara, No hate to Kiara, but she does like JJ (even if he's already got a girlfriend) on a brighter note more Pope :)

"Yeah, man, Cleo made me this peppered dish, and it was magic, let me tell you," JJ was staring at Pope, his hands balling in excitement, knees bending as he explained, his eyes closed briefly. The blond snickered, watching his friend's animations, to which Pope straightened up, leaning back against the dock, casually shrugging it off, "I mean I couldn't feel my face, but," he looked around making sure the coast was clear, knowing Sarah or Kie would have gossiped like nobody's business, "worth it."

"I'm happy for you man," JJ said, reaching into his pocket, fetching his lighter, his tan fingers grasping the cold metal, running over the initials as he reached for the freshly (as of yesterday) rolled blunt. His other, patting Pope's shoulder. It was nice to see the pogues finally getting the peace they deserved, and Pope happy with Cleo after his short lived fling with Kie, they don't talk about it.

Speaking of which, she was spotted, storming down the driveway, water drops glistening on her warm skin, her hair stringy, and loosely framing her face as she raked a towel across her shoulders. JJ was quick to notice, the unmistakable, progressing grumble falling from her sunken lips, curved into a sour expression, "check it, dude" he interrupted, the two's eyes following the sway of her hips, matching her face-paced steps up against the plank stairs.

The door swung open, she disappeared inside, the boys following suit after J delicately placed his weed behind the safety of the rope railings, jogging to catch up.

JJ entered the house, hearing distant voices, he could tell it was tense, the silence blanketed the atmosphere, and a latch unhooked, Pope head hung headed towards a confused JJ.

"What happened? He whispered, gripping Pope's shoulder, his concern had seemed to fade in the two seconds the blond was out of the house. He still didn't get an answer, instead a distant shrug, indicating it couldn't have been good.

He continued forward, his ringed fingers gripping the end of the wall, he listened intently, hearing the cluttering of dishes, and the heavy metal clanging, he flinched at the sound, boxing up, he stiffened the wall.

He could tell she was unhappy.After the heavy clatter had died down, he peeked his head from around the corner, seeing her pulling her shirt over her head, the wet fabric smacking against the counter. JJ eased from behind his defense, revealing himself to her, hands thrown up in surrender, "what happened?”

Topper and his stupid kook friends," nothing more had to be said. His hands lowered to his side as he stepped closer, which she allowed. She let him into her personal space, his touch slowing the hand that was scrubbing her arm harshly, now moving the rag in cautious, immediate circles.

An intimate silence had fallen over them, especially under the sound of running water and gentle breathing.

JJ's fingers slipped beneath hers, her rosy knuckles uncoiling as he took over, dragging the material in delicate motions, his eyes following what he was doing.

Kiara's guarded stance had dropped significantly, shoulders relaxing, and her metal rings glided over the edge of the sink while he worked on her back. “Do you want to tell me what happened?” His knuckles dragged against her soft skin, skimming the side of her spine, sending a facial jolt through her. She wanted to, of course she did, but she simply shook her head, her teeth sinking into her lower lip in an attempt to calm herself.

“How about with Pope?” He’s noticed when Kiara and Pope are around each other things get tense.

He wouldn't say anything for the sake of his friend, but it must have meant she felt it too, refusing to answer him or even look in his direction.Now JJ was torn, on one hand his friend needed help on the other Topper had to be dealt with.

“Done,” he murmured, tossing the damp towel against the counter top. Kiara's back arched against the cold air, the warmth from their closeness fading, JJ watch her spine curve, her body turning around to face him.Her lips were curled in a pout, her hair strung over her shoulder, thickly clumped together over her eyes, and her hand holding her elbow, tapping her rings and bracelets against her forearm.

JJ stood still, reaching out, he pushed her hair back behind her ears, her dimpled smile making an appearance, wavering as he took a step back. She accepted the distance with a drawn out blink, almost willing him back over, but instead she breathed out a thank you.

“ ‘Course,” he offered a tight lipped smile, “what are friends for?”

Friends? They just had a moment and he's calling her a friend? She scoffed to herself, leaning back against the counter, watching him walk off towards the door.

Now that that was taken care of, JJ headed back to the dock, surely to find Pope, smoking his blunt, angrily inhaling, and with a small cough breathing it out. Smoking wasn't his thing.

He liked a clear train of thought, but it seems his distasteful interaction had disgruntled him.

“Pope,” JJ summoned what was left of his enthusiasm, approaching slinging his arm around the guy’s shoulder, plucking the weed from his hand. He brought it to his lips, taking a quick huff, tossing it over the railing, into the water.

“Hey, man, I’m sorry.” He shook his head, pushing the bottom of his jacket up, his hands finding his pockets, “nah, man, it's not your fault,” he shrugged.

Yet here he stood apologizing. He knew that even though he would deny it, the apology meant a lot to Pope. “We cool?” “...Like chili,” Pope fished his hand out his pocket, the two fist bumped, patting each other on the back, the mood seeming to make it's way back to them.

Pt.II coming soon

Anyone else desperately need someone to just make them go stupid? I’m talking no thoughts just them. Bend me over and fuck me like you hate me. And then after treat me like a princess.

Blurb:

Wally Clark’s hands.

NSFW

Wally Clark is so touchy feely and clingy that he has to be touching you in some way.

When he was sat next to you his hand would rest on your thigh or he would have his arm around your chair. And if you had a little too much attitude he would tug on your ponytail giving you a look telling you to tone it down before he had to tone it down for you. Which usually ended with his hand wrapped in your hair while he fucked your throat or as he had you on all fours.

He’d pull you into his lap any chance he could get. Holding your hips in his hands. He’d slide them underneath your shirt warming your entire body at the feel of his skin on yours. He’d pop a boner immediately and position you perfectly over it making sure you felt him pulsing against your throbbing pussy.

Wally Clark would love how his massive hand looked wrapped around your pretty throat. The catch in your breath and the wide eyed look would turn him into putty. How dazed you got while he pounded into you.

If he needed you to be quiet or to shut up he’d sink his pointer and middle finger into your mouth and tell you to suck on them like the good little slut you are.

treat me like a FOOL

nate and preppy reader

“treat me mean and cruel, but love me”

Their relationship is like something out of a soft, sunlit dream, the kind where everything feels simpler and sweeter, even when the world outside is hectic. Nate, with his laid-back nature, has always been drawn to her, this perfect mix of grace, warmth, and discipline. She, with her impeccable charm and fiery spirit, can’t help but soften around him. When they’re together, everything around them fades into the background. It’s just the two of them, laughing over the smallest things, sharing moments that feel timeless and tender.

Her parents don’t exactly see them as the perfect match. They don’t come right out and say it, but their eyes speak volumes when they’re around. They think it’s just a high school fling, one of those relationships that’ll burn brightly and fade away. They can’t imagine their daughter with someone like Nate. He’s not exactly the type they pictured for her, laid-back, a little unpredictable, not someone who fits the mold of what they’d want for their perfect, poised daughter. But she doesn’t care. What they don’t understand is that this isn’t just some teenage rebellion to get under their skin. It’s real. Nate makes her feel seen and understood, like she can just be herself without all the expectations hanging over her head.

Nate adores her. It’s almost to a fault. He’s completely, utterly obsessed with her in the purest, most innocent way. He loves the way her voice sounds when she’s serious, how her eyes light up when she talks about something she’s passionate about. He doesn’t need anything grand or perfect. Just her. And despite all the times she can be a little sharp with him, snapping when she’s stressed or frustrated, he doesn’t mind. In fact, he finds it endearing in a way. There’s a charm to how she’s so sure of herself, even when she’s not feeling perfect, and it draws him in even more. He doesn’t ever question why she chose him. He knows better than to ruin the magic of it all by overthinking. Why ask such a stupid question when what they have is enough?

They’re the couple everyone sees and assumes is just a fleeting thing. But the truth is, they can’t go long without being together. It’s not out of neediness, it’s simply that they fit. They balance each other, like two pieces of a puzzle that somehow match even when no one expects them to. There’s no big drama, no grand gestures. Just quiet, little moments: the way Nate lights up when she walks into a room, the way she lets her guard down when they’re alone together, even if she’s pretending not to care about how much she’s giving away.

Their love is innocent, pure, and a bit like puppy love, fresh and untainted, full of surprises and little quirks. People may not get it, but they don’t need to. They don’t need to explain themselves to anyone. It just works, and that’s all that matters. When Nate looks at her, it’s like he’s seeing everything he’s ever wanted in a way that feels both surreal and completely real. And when she looks at him, there’s a softness in her eyes that tells the story of everything she feels but doesn’t always say aloud. They’re young, but in each other, they’ve found something timeless.

@issysh3ll

I’m not in LOVE

chris and babydoll reader

“it’s just a silly phase I’m going through”

Chris likes to think he’s immune to love, that it’s something for other people, not him. He’s the guy who coasts through life, carefree and untouchable, too busy being the center of attention to bother with anything as serious as feelings. At least, that’s what he tells himself whenever she’s around.

She’s just a friend—he repeats it like a mantra. The girl who sits shotgun in Eclipse, singing along to her disco tapes while he pretends he’s annoyed, though he never skips the track. The one who calls him out when his ego gets too big but does it with a laugh that makes it impossible for him to get mad. She’s the grounding force he never asked for, the one person who doesn’t fall for his charm but somehow makes him want to be charming anyway.

He doesn’t take what he feels for her seriously. He can’t. If he starts calling it love—if he starts admitting that maybe she’s more than just a cool girl who’s fun to have around—then he’s tied down. And Chris doesn’t do tied down. Not yet. Not when he’s got a reputation to keep up and a world to conquer. So he brushes it off, tells himself it’s just a passing thing, a silly crush that’ll fade.

But it doesn’t. It lingers in the way his eyes follow her when she’s laughing at something he didn’t even say. It’s in the way he drives her home slower than necessary, taking the long way just to keep her in the car a little longer. It’s in the way he notices the small things about her—how her curls shine when the sun hits them, how her New York accent slips out when she’s really excited, how her smile feels like it’s changing the air around them.

Chris won’t admit it, not even to himself, but she’s gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever has. She makes his world feel different, brighter, more real. But instead of leaning into it, he hides behind his usual bravado, throwing out half-baked jokes and acting like she doesn’t matter as much as she does.

Maybe one day he’ll figure it out—that what he feels isn’t just some fleeting crush. It’s not something he can brush off or laugh away. It’s real, and it’s hers. But for now, he’s stuck somewhere in between, holding on to his careless image while quietly letting her become his favorite part of everything.

For now, he tells himself he’s fine with the way things are. No labels, no big confessions, just the two of them driving around with her disco tapes and his bad jokes. But there’s a part of him that wonders, late at night when he’s alone, if maybe one day he’ll be brave enough to let her see how much she really matters. How much she’s already changed him.

@issysh3ll

introducing 70s PREPPY READER paired with 70s nate

“Whoever said orange was the new pink was seriously disturbed!”

She’s like a warm, glowing presence, a perfect balance of sweetness and discipline. Her brown skin radiates in the sunlight, glowing with the richness of caramel and honey, and her hair always smells like a mix of vanilla and the softest touch of brown sugar. When you’re near her, there’s this quiet comfort in her scent, like a soft reminder of warmth and sweetness. Her presence is calm and collected, always put together in a way that makes everything around her feel orderly and neat, from the way her clothes are pressed to the way she keeps her room impeccably tidy.

She has this poise about her, a graceful composure honed by her strict upbringing. Her parents have high expectations, and she meets them with diligence, a good girl who takes her role seriously—going to church every Sunday, excelling in school, and hitting every cheerleading practice like she’s a force of nature. Yet every once in a while, there’s a little spark of rebellion, something hidden in the way she’ll light a cigarette just to feel something different, to remind herself that perfection isn’t always the answer. But even in those moments, she can’t keep the secret for long—her face gives everything away, and she ends up spilling the truth in a flurry of guilt.

When things get chaotic, she’s the first to step up with her mind racing, trying to take control. She can be bossy when she’s stressed, and it’s hard to miss the underlying panic in her voice when things aren’t going according to plan. Her emotions can get the best of her, making her more vulnerable in moments of frustration, but at her core, she’s polite, kind, and well-intentioned. She’s not one to throw shade unless she really feels like someone deserves it, and even then, it’s a rare flash of sarcasm that catches you off guard.

But underneath that polished exterior, there’s a sense of vulnerability, a realness that makes her more relatable than most would think. She’s a good girl, trying to do her best, but every now and then, the weight of expectations pushes her to stray, even if it’s just for a moment, and she becomes that much more human in the process.

@issysh3ll

introducing 70s BABYDOLL READER paired with 70s chris

“That summer of 1976, when everybody called me baby and it didn’t occur to me to mind”

Her voice is smooth, with a soft New York accent that peeks through in her vowels, giving her words a rhythm all their own. It’s the kind of voice you could listen to for hours, whether she’s humming along to a Bee Gees tune or passionately defending her love for disco. While everyone else seems to roll their eyes at her playlist, she just laughs and turns the volume up, unapologetically dancing to the beat of her own world.

She’s always got a little gloss on her lips and a smirk in her eyes, like she knows something you don’t. There’s a warmth to her presence, a softness that makes people want to be better just to deserve her attention. She doesn’t demand it, though—she’s not the kind of girl who needs to shout to be heard. Her laugh is soft but unforgettable, the kind that sticks in your head long after she’s gone, like a melody you can’t quite place.

She has a passion for little joys—collecting vinyl records, baking cookies she insists aren’t perfect, but everyone eats anyway, and reading paperbacks with broken spines. She loves the smell of old books and the sound of rain against her window, and she swears there’s no better feeling than stepping onto a dance floor under shimmering disco lights. She’s not a loud person, but there’s something magnetic about her—a quiet kind of confidence that makes her impossible to ignore.

She’s gentle but firm, the kind of person who listens without judgment but doesn’t hesitate to call you out when you’re being ridiculous. She believes in authenticity, in living life fully, even if that means sticking out a little more than she intended. And when she looks at you, it feels like she’s seeing right through every facade, straight into the core of who you are—and liking what she finds.

@issysh3ll

When the luxury passenger ship you were on wrecked and pirates came to scavenge it, you thought you would be left for dead, or worse.

Instead, Captain Jake Kiszka himself took you aboard his ship, rescuing you from what would've been a watery grave.

"Well, Darling, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't rescue a pretty thing like you?"

From Instagram

The smile at the end will feed me for weeks.

Just imagine the things those arms could do to you…. I just…. ughhh

No more

A Whoever-you-want-it-to-be imagine

Trigger warnings: Angst, domestic violence, blood.

Read at your own risk!

If you ever come into contact with such violence against you or anybody you know, please, contact the authorities or call the domestic violence hotlines. Nobody should ever feel oppressed and violated. 

~~~

Tired. You were simply tired of all the meaningless fighting. It wasn’t like you two didn’t have anything to fight for, having been together for so long had to mean something, didn't it? It didn't seem to be enough anymore though, to keep you two together. The once intertwined hands now pointed at each other in rage more often than they met in peace, the only laughter that was shared was out of anger and pity. The kisses once shared turned into harsh words, while love slowly turned into hatred. You don’t even remember when and how it all went wrong anymore. Days you once thought to be the worst of your life now only serving as a proof to the wind before a storm. A storm you were never ready for.

It had come to a point when neither of you even knew whether the other comes home, the bed once shared in peace and love had become only one of the evidences of a broken relationship, a lost war that had only left heaps of unhealed wounds. Some days it seemed to have stopped. The fighting, the lies and the hurt. His hands once again found yours, his lips - your body, leaving love bites next to the bruises he had left before. He had never intended to hurt you, no. He says to even not remember doing so, yet you do. Each mark, each wound, each word that often hurt more than what he left on your flesh for the world to see.

Each mark on his body. Ones you had never left there. Others have. And no matter how much it hurt you, there was nothing you could do about it. The smell of their perfume made you sick, the stains of their lipstick on his shirts made your stomach twist, but your hands never did anything more than clean and fold them for him to wear again, only to return with the same stains, just a different perfume. Was it really none of your business anymore?

More often than not you found yourself hiding. You kept trying to tell yourself that you are hiding from him, when in reality it was you you were hiding from, but couldn’t. Your heart was broken. To an extent where it was way past the point of repair, yet you managed to heal it every time you thought the pain had passed. And you were once again in love. He said to feel the same. Until the next time. And the next time proved to be worse than the ones before. It almost felt gradual. Like levels of a twisted game you never got tired of playing, but when you finally did, it presented you an offer you knew you couldn’t pass. It lured you in. Badly. Yet were you in the wrong for falling for the devil? They say that even the devil was an angel once locked out of the heaven. Maybe it was him the people had warned you and others about.

Summers had always been your favourite. Not because of the blooming nature, the bright colours or the warmth. It was because you could finally put on the dresses you had insisted on buying during the wintertime. It was until this summer that you realised your hatred for them. The marks on your body made you feel disgusted and unloveable. 'No wonder he didn’t love me anymore,' you had thought. 'Who would love somebody this broken on the inside and outside?’ But he did.

You came home to a smell of freshly picked flowers. A smell you had not felt in a long time. And there he was. A living devil in disguise of an angel. He smiled at you, making you wince. What had he done this time? Was it another girl he was trying to apologise for? No, it couldn’t be. He had stopped apologising for it a long time ago. Was it another broken mirror or a wall he had broken in the midst of having a spark of anger? However, his knuckles showed no evidence of it. His hand reached behind his back, you were no fool, you noticed that. You took a step back just as he did toward you. He sighed, yet didn't say a word. Then he spoke up.

“I love you,” he had said after what had felt like years of silence, “I love you and I want you to be mine forever. Marry me and I promise - no more,” he had said.

“Yes,” was your answer, even though your mind and soul was screaming no. He made a promise. You couldn’t do that to him. No, not you. You couldn’t hurt him. Not like he hurt you. Wounds heal, don’t they?

It had been a year since that day. He had come home to you, kissed you on your forehead and given you a bouquet of fleshly picked flowers.

“For you,” he had said. You smiled.

He took you by the hand and lead you to the garden. It was a peaceful night. The stars shone bright. A glass was put in your hand as one was in his. They clinked against each other.

“Cheers,” he toasted and smiled.

So much had changed within a year. It almost felt too good to be true. Almost. One glass turned into two. Two toasts in three, and four clinks in the breaking of the thin glass. Wine coated your lap. You had tried to laugh it off, but the alcohol in his system had other plans.

You had been here before, yet you were not the one to learn from your mistakes. Your body collided with the wall that was recently repaired in the hopes of never being broken again. The blood from your nose soon found your white dress. It was summer after all, and the old wounds had healed. But he wanted more. You looked back at him when he shouted. The veins on his forehead and the black eyes made him look insane. Yet he hadn’t expected your act of bravery. He had not expected to see you looking back at him as he raised his hand.

“Look away,” he demanded. You didn’t. You stood there and looked him dead in the eyes. Understanding. Hurting, but no more hiding.

His hand was still in the air, his breath got caught up in his lungs. Unmoving.

“No more,” she had whispered as she made her way to him. Caressing his cheek in such a manner that made silent tear run down his face. He fell on his knees. Begging.

“No more,” she repeated, as she took off her ring and made her way towards the door. And she didn't look back.

A quick update!

I have eight more request imagines coming up this week, I have decided to try and write at least two a day, because I am quite a slow writer at times. However I have a few ideas that I would like to make real that are not related to the requests. I would love to post one of those today and see what you guys think, BUT it's quite an emotional one and could be mentally quite hard to read for some of you. I don't want to make you guys uncomfortable with some topics, so I am here to ask you, whether you would like to read one today or not? If you don't, I will continue on with the requested imagines.

Thank you for all the support, it means a lot to receive such an amazing feedback so far! :)

It's me that's lucky

An Antoine Griezmann imagine:

Based on this request:

Also i just had this imagine in mind like I read somewhere that one player finally said in the interview that he had try so hard to get this girl she really like to go ona a date with him for like 40 times before she actually said yes and I was wondering if u could do it with anto like u know he's a footballer and all but he have to impress you first because you're not that easy and he's trying so hard because you're like a challenge different from his other girls and he likes you so much 😘

Just now understood that it's not exactly what was requested, but nevertheless I hope you will enjoy it! 

~~~

“I am here with the world famous french football player Antoine Griezmann, thank you for coming and congratulations on your win, your performance was spectacular,” the interviewer greeted him, while they both shook hands.

It was another interview filled day in which Antoine felt like a circus animal in a cage. Though he had grown accustomed to all the attention and the typical questions he was asked over and over again, something about this interview had sparked his interest. Not because the interviewer was a drop dead gorgeous woman, rather than a 40 year old man, as it was in this case, but because of the questions he was asked. Now normally he respects his fair share of privacy regarding his family and personal life, however the accomplishment he was feeling just wanted to burst though him and reveal how truly happy and excited he was about you finally agreeing to give him a chance to prove himself as a man worth loving.

“Now, I know that you are a man of your word and always keep things as quiet as possible when it comes to your family and loved ones, but by the looks of it neither you, nor your teammates cannot contain the excitement of you finally having a special someone in your life, am I correct?”

“Well, yes, that is correct. There is this one absolutely stunning woman I have been trying to get a hold of for the longest time. She really is the woman of my dreams, yet every time I had asked her on a date, she always refused, which was extremely frustrating. I had tried everything, but me being a public person had made her weary of me and the person she thought I was. Of course that left me desperate, but nevertheless she finally agreed to give me a chance right before I left for the World Cup, which sort of worked like a kickstart. I believe this victory has something to do with her,” he laughed, but deep down in his mind he truly believed it.

“Was it something you could call love at the first sight or was it a bit more complicated?” the interviewer inquired.

“We first met almost a year ago at one of my mate’s birthday party. The moment I saw her I knew there is something about this woman that makes me really attracted to her, yet I never got the courage to ask her out that day. I did try to show off a bit, though,” he chuckled, “but even my mates were more impressed than she was, and it was not something I was initially going for. I do remember talking to her that night, however, she was an absolute sweetheart and I knew I was crushing hard when it was time for her to leave. I never got to see her again until a few months ago, though. Then I did manage to get her number and literally started asking her out every day at every change that I got. God, she was so annoyed by it, but she is too sweet of a person to tell me to lay off. It’s sort of ironic, though, because she kept refusing my offers,” his smile was so bright it almost seemed like his eyes are nonexistent from being squeezed together by his cheeks so tightly.

“And how did you manage to get a date in the end?” the man had grown very interested as was the filming crew, which had grown quiet and listened carefully.

“Well, I don’t really know if I want to spill all the details, I’m afraid someone might use it against me and ask her out,” he said seriously with a hint of humour and a smile in his eyes. “I arrived at her house, knowing that she was not there, because on those days she had late meetings. I knocked nevertheless, just felt the need to make my presence known. I remember being extremely frustrated that day, because we had had some quite extreme trainings for the whole week and we had to leave the next day, but I didn’t feel ready to go. So I stood there and just talked. About everything. I spoke to her door of how much I like her smile, how ridiculously annoying she was when she refused to give me a chance for a god knows how stupid of a reason. How I liked the way her hair smells and the way her lips curve in that devilish smile of hers, I confessed how much she truly means to me, even though I could not say that I know her that well or was in the position to even hope for something more than just the friendship she had offered to me. I may have wanted to hit the door with the flowers I had bought her on my way to her house. At least ’til the moment she told me not to, because “that would be a waste of a lovely effort”. When I say that my heart stopped the moment she spoke up from behind me, I mean it. I was so extremely embarrassed, yet so relieved that she had heard me. I believe it was all it took, because she said yes,” he said, his voice small, a faint smile played on his lips as he was deep in his thoughts.

The interviewer cleared his voice, but no words seemed to come out of his mouth for a moment.

“I believe she is a lucky girl to have you, Antoine,” he said, genuinely meaning it, and patted him on the shoulder, “if there were more men like you in the world, it would truly be a more love-filled place. I respect that, my friend.”

“It’s me. It’s me that’s lucky. Not every man can find someone that makes his heart beat faster. I did."

Make me

An Antoine Griezmann imagine

Based on this request:

Spending your time with anto at the pitch while he's supposed to be training time but everyone is spending their time with fam and he's play fighting with the reader about the ball and like throwing her on the floor but still being careful not to hurt her and she's like showing him what she's got lol I love your imagines

Enjoy!

~~~

It was another rather long day for both you and Antoine. You both have been up since around 6 AM, because Simeone had decided to get his team back in its strengths as soon and efficiently as possible, which had resulted in an agonising whole-day training on a Saturday. To say you were grumpy was to say the least, however watching Antoine play on the pitch and seeing the smile on his face definitely brought your spirits up, not to mention that you had finally gotten food and a nice cup of coffee, which had lessened your need to whine the crap out you.

It was around 2 PM, when you had noticed the guys starting to fool around, not really listening to the strict orders of their coach, which at had already gotten him to the point that he didn’t even try to go and stop them. Simeone had seen their efforts and that was enough for him. At least for today. Antoine was laying on the freshly cut grass, his stomach was rapidly raising and falling from chasing Costa around the pitch just now. For some reason seeing him like this made your stomach flutter at how truly handsome he was. Not to mention athletic, which was not exactly the trait you could say you possessed, even though since being with Antoine you had secretly tried to learn as many tricks to try and hopefully impress him.

As you approached, he took his arm off of his eyes and squinted at you, a little smirk was playing on his lips as he said:

“Enjoying the view, love?”

“I beg your pardon, I was looking at Gameiro, he is looking rather fine today,” you smirked back, but as soon as that smirk had appeared, as soon it was wiped off when Antoine got up and started chasing you around the field.

Terrified. You were terrified of him catching you, because you knew his tricks and that him getting a hold of you would mean the death of you. Literally. He knew that your weakness was tickling, and you couldn’t handle it even to save your own life. However, we are talking about a footballer here, and in the meantime of the first 20 seconds he had you in his arms and on the ground, his fingers already finding the soft skin of your ribcage.

“Please, I beg you, I was just joking,” you tried to get it out, but the air leaving your lungs along your laughter made it seem like you were dying.

“Just joking, right? And what would you do if I were to say that I am only jokingly tickling you, huh, love?” he said back, the smug look on his face only intensified as your voice grew louder.

“P-please, let me go! I will play the ball with you, just stop touching me!”

“That is not a phrase I hear often, love,” he smirked once again, receiving a slap on his arm for such a perverted reference, “but alright, I will let you live this time, but only if you score at least three out of five goals and somehow manage to steal the ball from me.”

“You have got to be joking, Antoine,” you said seriously, but even that didn’t budge the cocky look on his face, “you know what? Fine. It’s not like I’m playing against Ronaldo or anything,” and with that you got up, took the ball and prayed to god that he was only joking, but the look on his face after that Cristiano reference told you otherwise.

Though dribbling was something even you considered to be easy, having Antoine as an opponent soon enough made you rethink your life choices, because the boy didn’t look to have come to play games. At first he had gone a lot tougher on you, but now he was just messing around, because he had seen your dedication and the concentrated look on your face. Though he made sure to go easy on you and to not accidentally hurt you, he still had a hint of worry in his face every time your small frame collided with his, to which you only responded with an ugly wheeze as you sprinted past him and scored another goal against him, to which he responded with a:

“You know that I let you do that, right? It’s not like you are good or anything,” he fake-scoffed and playfully rolled his eyes, but in his mind he couldn’t help but smile at how much you were enjoying this and his profession, how much you liked to spend time with him and fool around.

“Oh please, just admit it! I am better than you! Jesus, now I agree with Simeone for making you lazy arses come here for the day, you guys suck!” you laughed as you approached him and put your arms around his neck. His eyes were smiling, though his face was stone cold serious.

“It’s not funny, (Y/N), we don’t suck, but if sucking is something you have in mind, we could go home earlier and arrange that,” and the smirk was once again on his face, but you couldn’t wipe it off even if you tried.

“You are horrible, you know that, right?” you said with a disgusted look on your face and laughed.

“Well, if being sooo disgusting let me get a girl as beautiful as you, then I don’t mind, you know,” he smiled, and lightly pecked your lips.

“If only it was that easy, I’m actually only with you, because I knew I could get Gameiro’s number,” and with that you were off laughing, while Antoine called after you:

“I will sure want to see you trying to walk properly tomorrow, if you won’t stop right now!”

“Make me!” you called back, already not being able to wait 'til the two of you will get home.

All that matters

An Antoine Griezmann imagine

Based on this request:

Request for y/n being insecure about her looks and her body because the other wives/girlfriends look so much better than her in her opinion? (And can it take place during the World Cup celebrations?) oh and this is for Antoine btw

Enjoy!

~~~

Crowds. Crowds of people surrounded the football pitch in hopes for their favourite team to win. Cheers embraced you as Antoine scored his penalty shot against Croatia. Another goal closer to being the champions of the world. A pang of proudness shot through your heart, and an enormous grin found its way on your face. You knew how much it meant to him. He has always wanted to make his country and family proud, but most importantly - he wanted to make you proud. You found yourself in the middle of friends, families and lovers of the other football players and you couldn’t help but to notice the how beautiful the other women were. Their cheekbones looked almost carved by gods, their lips plump, hair done to the perfection and their slim figures moved themselves in the rhythm of another cheer song. A sudden insecurity hit you that you were probably looking like you have too much going on at a time, your hair a mess, face flushed from cheering too much, clothes chosen to be as comfortable as possible, not glamorous like the others’. Your arms found their way around your midriff, almost shielding your stomach. You couldn’t help yourself, you knew you are nothing compared to them. Tears pricked in your eyes when you understood that Antoine deserves someone flawless, like him.

Til the end of the match only a couple of minutes were left, a huge smile was plastered on your face both because the french national team is destined to finally win and because you were trying to put your mind at ease from all the negative thoughts about yourself. It was Antoine’s day, you couldn’t bring yourself to be so selfish and ruin his mood with your own problems. As the whistle blew, tears slid down your cheeks. They had done it! You noticed Antoine on the pitch, happy tears in his eyes and that gorgeous smile of his on his face as he congratulated his teammates. Some were running towards their children to bring them on the pitch, some were rushing to their wives and girlfriends to engulf them in an embrace and say thank you for supporting them. Seeing them together made you feel crushed, because you knew that next to Anto you look like a nobody, yet he was still there, calling loud and clear for your name and extending his arms as if waiting to be hugged.

He was ecstatic, absolutely mind blown and couldn’t believe that he had just won. His mind was going a million miles per hour, yet the first thing he thought of was you. He searched for you in the crowd and when he found you, his legs started working before his mind did. He couldn’t help himself, he was in awe of how beautiful you look in his jersey, the stripes of the french flag drawn on your cheeks. Hair up in a perfect mess, showing off your beautiful face. Once he reached the benches, he noticed the look on your face, though the smile was bright, it didn’t quite reach your eyes the way he loves it so much. Your eyes were filled with sorrow as you looked upon the families of his mates. He called for you:

“(Y/N)! Baby!”

She ran towards him and quite literally almost fell over from the excitement of seeing him.

“I am so proud of you, Anto,” she whispered in his neck as he tightened his hold on her.

“I did this all for you, love,” he whispered back, feeling his eyes sting once again, now that he is in the arms of his lover.

He lifted you up and spun you around, shouting out of excitement, and though at first you were doing the same, you soon realised that he is holding up the whole weight of your body, the feeling of insecureness once again returned and you begged him to let you down.

“Hey, what’s wrong, mon amour?”

“It’s nothing, you are tired, I don’t want you to hurt yourself while holding me up for so long, you still have to celebrate, you know,” you tried to laugh it off, however the hint of panic in your voice screamed louder than your words to Antoine to know that something indeed was wrong.

“Tell me, please. I want to know what’s bothering you,” he said, once again engulfing you, knowing that cameras are everywhere and will probably catch the two of you off guard at some point.

“It’s nothing. Just stupid old me being stupid”

“You are not stupid, stop it, (Y/N). Please, I am begging you,” he said, took your face in his hands and looked deeply in your eyes.

You looked away. Once again your eyes averted to other girlfriends and you couldn’t help but sigh at how gorgeous they looked. Antoine, however, not being a fool soon caught up.

“Is it because of them? Did they say anything bad to you? Did they hurt your feelings? Tell me,” he demanded, getting rilled up even from the thought of them being rude to you.

“No, no, they didn’t, I promise.. It’s just..”

“It’s just what?”

“I am nothing compared to them… I am not as beautiful or skinny or well dressed as them. Hell, I look like a wet rat while they look like angels in this stupid rain,” you confessed, your voice small, “I am not worthy of you, Antoine. I will never be that someone you are proud to show off, I will never be the one people look up to and call beautiful, I'm just not..” you trailed off.

“I… I-I..” he stuttered, “I cannot believe how big of a fool you are, (Y/N). You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever had the chance to lay my eyes upon in my entire life. What you were saying are all lies. I love you for who you are and the way you are. No one will ever be able to top that. God, I am so smitten with you that even the thought of you thinking so low of yourself makes me angry. Please, never, ever say that again. I promise you that 'til the day I die I will cherish every single inch of you and will make it my task to prove you how truly beautiful you are. Don’t ever be ashamed of it. I will carry you in my arms until they give out and then I will pick you up again and again. Je t’aime.” he breathed out and you couldn’t help the smile on your face from appearing and tears glistened in your eyes.

He took you by the hand, intertwined your fingers and took you down to the pitch. He put his medal around your neck and kissed you in the pouring rain.

“I am only a winner, because I have you,” he breathed out and kissed you once again.

Everything else faded away, it was just the two of you in the world. And it is all that matters.

I need you

An Antoine Griezmann imagine

Based on this request:

Hey! I saw you’re taking requests so I thought maybe something about Antoine being with a new girl after Erika and him broke up and she’s a lot younger then him and she meets his family for the first time and she feels really insecure and scared that his family will think she‘s ruining his life?

Part two will be up shortly! Enjoy!

~~~

It’s been over six months now since Erika and Antoine's divorce. Though it was hard for both of them, especially knowing that they share a child, Antoine had known that it is for the better. Though at first the thought of them two splitting was only something he had seen as a side effect of being so tired, thus always frustrated with everything going on in his life, he could not for the dear life of him forget the night he had met you.

It was around eight months ago. The season had just ended, and Antoine and his team mates had gone out for a drink to the local pub in Madrid. The night was filled with alcohol and laughs, a few more serious topics had found their way in the conversations, but it was nothing more than just drunk talks, or at least that’s what Antoine had thought. He vaguely remembers telling his friends that he is tired of the consistency in his life, tired of coming home to be met with his wife that always says and asks the same meaningless things, tired of feeling no more spark in their relationship. He loved her and his daughter, of course, but the feeling in his guts was trying to prove him otherwise to mess with his mind. But maybe it was just the alcohol...

You, however, were sitting by the bar with your friends and sipping the not-so-club-esque drink of Coke, not feeling in the mood to get piss drunk and not remember even anything that had happened the night before, like it had happened to your friend the other day and left her traumatised to such an extent that she did not even attend your weekly friday outing. Your friends were spinning around the dance floor, some were looking for a compatible one night stand, while the others were way too tipsy to even look like they are dancing, not just having a casual seizure in the middle of the club. The feeling in your bones had sent shivers down your spine, once you recognised that someone has been watching you the whole time you were lost in your thoughts. You felt the piercing look, but you didn’t dare to glance in its direction. You figured that it would be for the best, as it would not provoke something you were not even sure you would be able to handle, if necessary. After a while, though, the curiosity had gotten the best of you, making you look directly in the direction of the glare, but you found nothing. Just a couple of backs turned in your direction, some shaking with laughter, some twisted in an ungodly way to see someone that had fallen off of a stool. It almost felt as a disappointment to you. It’s not like you wanted the attention, but the fact that you never really got it angered you. It was until you felt a warm breath on your neck that triggered your heartbeat.

“I’m sorry for bothering you, but you look way too lonely and beautiful to spend the night alone,” the stranger had said.

You turned around only to be met with the most beautiful blue eyes you thought you had ever seen. Your breath hitched in your throat and it was suddenly hard to breathe, yet you managed to get out a response that intrigued the handsome man in front of you. One sentence lead to another and by the end of the night it felt as if you had know Antoine already prior your meeting, but it certainly didn’t bother you. Though you had learned that he was in his mid-twenties, married and had a child, with you being almost six years younger than him and single, something about him screamed despair and longing for something more in his life, but it was against your principles to even imagine having something more with him than just a conversation. When the time came for you to leave, you had decided against giving him your number or even telling him your last name in the hopes of him trying to find you via social media. He was saddened, to say the least, but understood that asking for your number would lead to something more than just a friendly relationship, or at least that was what he had imagined. He was smitten by you in a matter of few minutes and letting you go seemed as the worst decision in his life.  

The next few days went by as a blur for both of you, as neither of you had been able to think of anything else than one another. It was until one night that Antoine had only seen you as just a girl in the bar that he oh so desperately was trying to get out of his brain. A night in which he dreamt of thoughts so unholy that even he himself was surprised by how needy he was to see you again, to smell your perfume and touch the silkiness of your skin. It was once again Friday, when he had told Erika he was going out with his mates, when in fact he was just hoping to see you again. Of course he had remembered you saying that this was the usual weekly outing place for you and your friends, and he couldn't have been more anxious yet giddy just to see you again. Once he entered, his eyes were looking for your face, butterflies were swarming his stomach - a feeling he had not felt in a very long time. Once he saw you, he couldn’t help but smile, but that soon vanished as he noticed you sitting with a guy he knew you hadn’t mentioned before. A pang of jealousy had struck him then and there, yet he knew there is nothing he could do about it as you weren’t his. He slowly approached the bar and made sure that he did so in a manner that would not go unnoticed by you. He pretended to notice you only after a while of sitting by the bar and sipping on a glass of scotch. He noticed your eyes smile when they met his, and he was met with a reassurance that you were indeed happy to see him - something he didn’t know he needed. He approached you and introduced himself to the man sitting next to you. It turned out he was a best friend of yours and was keeping you company to make sure you are safe, and Antoine appreciated it. After a while the guy left and the two of you were once again left to a conversation that soon grew a lot more personal and intimate than when it first started. He confessed that he was not able to get you out of his head and that he needed more of you, to which you responded with the same neediness and desire. You two exchanged numbers, yet you had felt the need to exchange more than just that.

The days spent texting soon turned into a few hours spent together, which turned into days and sometimes even nights. You knew he was married and so did he, but neither of you seemed to care when the two of you were together. Erika, though oblivious to the two of you, knew that Antoine no longer wanted to be in a relationship, which had left her broken. They had set a date of divorce, which she had desperately tried to postpone or even cancel at all, yet Antoine had made his mind. When you asked him as to what made him make this decision and why with her, he only responded with:

“I have never felt anything like this with anyone else than you, (Y/N). I need you, and if I won’t have you, I will go insane."