Josh Hutcherson - Tumblr Posts

i wish i was your girl ˚｡ ⋆ ꪆ୧ ⋆ ˚｡

can u blow my whistle babey

Flat color commission I got to do for @theautisticjedi !!!

Bro this one photo of Mike has me screaming and shaking the bars of my enclosure. like imagine him looking at you, full of pity while you try to ride him over but it just feels so good that your legs are shaking and he just whispers all soft, “hey hey hey, I got it pretty girl.” Bro.

realest thing i think i’ve ever seen

AWOOGA😍😍😍

this scene got me feeling like a victorian man seeing an ankle 😔😔😔

(i need him to whimper in my ear like a needy bitch)

THAT WAS LITERALLY ME

me omw to tumblr for "mike schmidt x reader" after watching the movie

no because nobody around me understands how SAD peeta’s reaping is. he already has a mother who hits him to begin with, and when he gets chosen, he’s looking and waiting for his brothers to volunteer for him. HE HAS TWO BROTHERS. and nobody did.

also happy holidays everybody it’s officially that time of the year because i said so

Clapton Davis HCs

bf!clapton would definitely have nicknames for you. whether it’s a play on your actual name or something like “sweetheart”. like, they’d make you feel so sweet and special, and clapton would definitely revel in that feeling. he loves making you feel happy in his own special, silly way. on the complete other hand, sometimes they’d make you respond in a complete eye-roll and soft punch to his shoulder. either way, he loves whatever reaction you give him.

bf!clapton would totally carry your books for you on your way to class. even if you had a class on the other side of school, he’d gladly be late just so he can see you laugh at his awful attempt of a joke before you walk into the classroom. besides, how would he get through class if he didn’t have an image of your smile in his mind to help him through it?

bf!clapton enjoys the smallest things about you. things that you, yourself don’t even notice. he loves the way you look at a paper when it makes no sense to you. he loves the way you quietly hum the song you knew he loved, just to impress him. it worked. but he didn’t need to know that. he was too busy appreciating the bags under your eyes from your many nights of staying up late. whether it be studying (which he always admired you for), or to just simply mess around, he loved them.

bf!clapton loved how special you made him feel. you never shrugged off how he felt, or his thoughts. you never summed him up to just his worst moments, of which there were many. his favorite example of how you acted around him was how you acted when it was just the two of you. you would bring out this side of yourself that many never got to see, and it made him feel like the happiest dumbass in the world that he was special enough to see the real you.

just like you, bf!clapton feels extremely comfortable around you. he feels like he can let his walls down, and this persona and reputation he’s built at grizzly lake high school. nobody to impress, persuade, or run from. just you, which he’s incredibly thankful for. he doesn’t have to worry about how bad his jokes are, he knows you’ll laugh at them anyway, because he’s pretty sure you love him. and you’re pretty sure he loves you.

these are my first ever published headcanons! there is an upsettingly low amount of clapton davis content, so i really hope you liked them. i’m gonna open requests very soon, so get those requests cooking. ☆

just LOOK AT THIS MAN AND TELL ME HE’S NOT SO FUCKING HOT WHEN HE’S DRENCHED IN WATER

CAN YOU DO CLAPTON PUTTING A TON OF THOUGHT INTO A SUPER CUTE LITTLE GIFT BASKET AND AT THE VERY BOTTOM IT CAN BE LIKE A NOTE OF HIM CONFESSING OR SUM🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

ugh yes i love this request!! hope you won’t mind me adding some holiday spice into it! hope you like it ☆ (borders made by @saradika-graphics)

from me, to you

word count: 1.4k

pairing: clapton davis x gn! reader

warnings: just some light swearing! some absolutely cliché fluffy shit head ❤️

—————

clapton davis had never really celebrated the christmas season. he never hated the holiday, but it was never his favorite. maybe it was the advertising; the loud, bright commercials and ads on the radio. maybe it was the cheesy music. it was the one time he refused to listen to the radio, in fear the start of “all i want for christmas is you” would be playing. or maybe it was the fact he knew he was desperately in love with you, and he did not want to spend the holiday season alone. again. without you.

yeah, you were friends. best friends. his confidant. his partner in crime. but he could never deny that he wanted to take it a step further. scratch that—five steps further.

he could never get over the way your hair flowed on windy days. it wasn’t like those scenes in the movies, but it always made you smile. god, how he loved your smile. but how would we tell you all this? would he tell you all this? today was december twentieth. which means it’s not only five days before christmas, but it’s almost the last day before winter break, the twenty-first. the last day he can get to be with you before you leave for the holidays.

he had to tell you. there was no doubting it.

clapton davis was gonna confess to you tomorrow. and you had no idea.

but how? would he tell you face to face? no. he wouldn’t be able to look in your beautiful eyes if you decided to reject him. maybe a text? no, that’s too douchey. even for clapton.

then it came to him.

a gift basket! and a letter! what’s more romantic than that? he’ll do it during your annual gift exchange you both do and (have done for years) in the morning. he knows the way your face lights up whenever he gives you something small, like a piece of gum. how would you react if he gave you something actually meaningful? oh, how he could get lost in that question for days.

but there was no time to waste.

the sooner he got this off his chest, the sooner you might be in his arms.

————————

you couldn’t get enough of the holidays. that was the one thing you and clapton didn’t have in common, you thought as you walked down the halls, looking for him.

you were wearing your favorite christmas/winter sweater and a very festive hat. it was the last day before break. everyone was in the festive season, even principal verge. that…that was a little unnerving.

but besides that, you were completely filled with joy. school is almost out, it’s the holiday season, and clapton—

oh, yea. clapton hasn’t showed up yet. that wasn’t unusual, but you had expected him to be here as it was the morning of your gift exchange. you always met up at the front of the school, a while before class started.

you hadn’t gotten him a whole lot. just a cd for this new artist he liked. you could barely keep up with how many he listened to. he was never big on receiving presents. but since it was your senior year, you wanted to do something special. yeah, that was the reason. not because you had slowly developed feelings for him, but because it was senior year.

…

yeah, you couldn’t even believe your own bullshit.

you hoped that he would notice your little splurge and take it as a hint. but who’re you kidding? this is clapton davis. he would need a lot more than that. just as you’re getting lost in thought, you feel a tap on your shoulder. the tap turns into a shove, and you now know who it is behind you.

“finally! looked like you were in some real deep thought, there.” clapton says.

“yeah, thinking about crazy things, like where the hell you are since you’re two minutes late.” you respond, holding up your phone and showing the time. nothing could get past you.

he loved that about you.

“oh, i’m sorry. do you not want this gift basket that i totally haven’t been working on for the past day?” he asks with a tone and smile that makes you want to punch him in the face and kiss him all at the same time.

it takes you a moment to register what he’s even holding up.

it’s a relatively small bag with tissue in it, but you can see some of the gifts peeking out of it. the fact there’s even multiple things surprises you. and clapton realizes that.

“yeah, i kind of went overboard. i just…wanted to do something, uh, special.”

you take it from him, your mouth still open from surprise and genuine happiness. you’re about to look inside as you remember that there’s a gift for him inside your backpack. now you’re starting to feel like your present isn’t as good as you thought it was. you take out the cd and hand it to him.

“well, here you go. i know it isn’t much, but i wanted to do something special too, y’know? sorry if it’s—“

but he cuts you off.

“it’s great—amazing. i love it. thank you.”

and you can tell he says it with meaning. the smile, his tone, everything. god, this boy was going to be the death of you if neither of you didn’t fess up.

“well, don’t just stand there. open your gift!” he says, enthusiastically.

you smile at him, and begin to pull out the tissue. one by one, you start to pull out the myriad of gifts. your favorite candy, your favorite snacks. the usual. then, the real gifts stared to appear. hair bands, since he knew you lost so many, your favorite band cassette, and a bracelet he knew you had wanted for forever. your smile grows wider and wider as each gift comes out of the bag.

clapton’s standing there anxiously, waiting to see what you’ll say.

you reach the end of the bag, and find an envelope with your name on it. before you can open it, clapton’s already taking it out of your hand.

“don’t read that yet!” he yells, almost a little too loud.

you’re a bit taken aback by his response. what was so sensitive that he had to quite literally snatch it out of your hand? it couldn’t be what you were thinking, right?

“i mean, don’t—not yet. it’s special. for later.” he says, stuttering through the sentence and handing the letter back to you.

not sure how to respond, you let out a small “okay, then.” before standing awkwardly in silence.

“thank you,” you say. “for the gifts. i can tell you put a lot of thought into them.” you cross your arms across your chest as you say this.

visibly, clapton’s anxiety dissipates and it looks like a weight has lifted off of his shoulders.

“good, because I don’t know what I would do if you hated it.” he responds. you both laugh at this. thank god, the awkward moment has passed. “about the letter—“ he starts, but you’re quick to cut him off. “oh no, i get it. can’t have me getting all sentimental around you, huh?” you joke. he’s grateful you handled that situation, he probably would’ve just made it worse.

“i’ll catch you later?” clapton asks.

“definitely.” you say, smiling.

the bell rings, signaling that school is starting. dammit, has it really been that much time already?

as you both part to your separate classes, you can’t help but feel curious about why he was so insistent on you not reading the letter. it couldn’t have been that bad, right? as you slowly walk to class, your curiosity gets the best of you, and you take out the envelope, open it, unfold the piece of paper, and begin reading. at first, it’s simple.

“merry christmas. i hope you liked the basket. you better, because…because i’m your best friend. anyways, hope you like this.

-your best friend, clapton”

it’s written in surprisingly good hand writing, but in small letters, you can barely make out the words “flip the page”. interesting. maybe it’s a stupid p.s. or something. but you’re quickly mistaken, because as you flip the page, you realize this is no additional information. it’s enough words to fill an essay.

you read the whole thing, every single syllable.

you were sure that you had read it wrong the first time. so you read it a second time. . . and a third time. . .and a fourth time. nothing about it had changed. it still had the same ending.

“i’m pretty sure i’m in love with you.” it said.

fuck class. class could wait.

you had to find clapton.

part 2! ☆

Y’ALL PART TWO OF “FROM ME TO YOU” IS COMING OUT SOMETIME TODAY! it’s even more cliché than part one, so clear your schedule for today!!

Rae, I need that part two more than I need my peppermint tea- 👀 I’m about to watch Detention for the 20th time this month… yes, December… no, I don’t have a problem 😂

it’s finally here!! sorry for making y’all wait, but it’s here. it’s a lot shorter due to my life being busy and just wanting to get it out, but i love it! hope you do too ☆

from me, to you

wordcount: 645

pairing: clapton davis x gn! reader

warnings: clapton has an inner monologue that’s kind of angsty?? i think this is one more cliché ❤️

—————

the suspense was killing him. did you read it yet? did you even remember the letter existed? what did you think? a million thoughts were rushing through clapton’s head as he walked to his class. maybe if he walked painstakingly slow, his mind would do the same.

but how would he distract himself for one whole hour? he had hoped that he wouldn’t run into you.

clapton was never one to think that highly of himself. surprising, i know. it seemed like everyone in his life thought he was the coolest. that he was amazing. but deep down, he never really thought that.

but you were always there to bring him up. to make him feel like everything people said he was—in the most healthy way possible.

he just doesn’t know what he’d do with himself if you didn’t feel the way he felt about you. he couldn’t lose you, not over some stupid feelings. he’d do anything to keep you in his life, even if it meant having to watch you go on with yours without him.

god, he really couldn’t lose you.

he was so lost in thought thinking about you, he thought he felt you tap his shoulder. surprisingly, it actually was you. and you were pulling him into an empty hallway so you could talk to him. he didn’t need to go to class that bad. wasn’t like it would affect his grade, anyways.

“finally,” you say.

“looked like you were in some real deep thought, there.”

he noticed you re-using his words from your earlier conversation. you never really forgot about anything, did you? under different circumstances, his heart would be fluttering because of that thought, but instead it’s fluttering because he’s not sure if you’re here to break his heart or not.

he realizes he hasn’t responded to you yet, but honestly he’s not sure if that would make things worse or way worse.

but he can’t just not talk to you.

“i was.” he says, letting out the smallest smile, one that was less full of energy, and more full of anxiety.

“i, uhm…i read the letter.” you say.

“oh.” he replies. maybe you didn’t read the back. maybe there is hope to salvage this friendship.

but his hope quickly dissipates as you finish your sentence.

“the whole letter.”

“oh.” was that all he could say?! no wonder you wanted to reject him, he thought.

you knew you were gonna have to lead the conversation, otherwise you’d never get him to tell you how he felt. you had to hear him say it.

“did you mean what you wrote?” you ask.

a beat passes.

“all of what you wrote.” you clarify.

your heart was racing. what if it was just impulse? what if you had read everything wrong?

“every word.” he answers.

you both stare at each other in silence. you don’t even realize how close you two are until he speaks.

“can i kiss yo—“ he tries to ask but you cut him off with a kiss as soon as the first word comes out of his mouth.

it didn’t last long, but you both savored every single moment of it. his lips were soft. soft like cotton candy, and—god, just as sweet. he kissed you with all the emotion he’s felt for you over the years. in the few moments your lips did meet, his hand found its way to your cheek. really, the only reason you both pulled away was to get some air.

after you both pull away, you’re left looking into his beautiful, brown, love-struck eyes. you decide to put a hand on his cheek, too.

“y’know, i think i love you too.” you say.

“you mean it?” he asks.

“every word.”

part 1

taglist (all the people who begged for a part two) ☆

@lovelyniyachy

@omwtkydttfym

@tacomumun3r

@janitorhutcherson (my bestie)

just posting to say that i’ll get to the requests soon!!

can you please make a fluff piece where the reader moves in to boyfriend!Mike’s house? I enjoy reading your work!

hey-o! and thank you! kind of back from the dead with this fic, but i really love this request so i had to do it. for all of those who have put in requests, i swear i’m getting to those! they’re cooking, promise. (also not a christmas fic but i love these christmas borders made by @saradika-graphics so i had to use them) enjoy!! ☆

moving day

words: 409 (short i know, sorryy)

pairing: boyfriend!mike schmidt x gn!reader

warnings: light cursing, and just some cute domestic fluff ❤️

————

“okay, i think that should do it.” mike says as he places the last of your boxes onto the bedroom floor.

“thank god.” you groan, exhaustedly. it had been a long day of moving, walking, and carrying for you both.

moving-in was exciting for you. when mike first extended the offer, you thought that he was kidding. but no. he actually wanted you to live with him, and that made you feel a myriad of happy little emotions.

“now, we just gotta unpack.” he states.

you let out an even more exhausted groan in response.

you had about half a dozen boxes, and unpacking them was not an option for you. due to major exhaustion—and let’s just be honest, unwillingness—you flopped down on his your bed in hopes that you’ll fall asleep and when you wake up, everything would be taken care of.

mike, on the other hand, was more amused than exhausted. yea, getting all the boxes from your car sucked, but this was certainly brightening up his day. actually, just you in general brightened up his day. he wasn’t the type of person to show his emotions, but the fact that he could call his bed “our bed” now made him want to do like, several mental backflips.

so he couldn’t really be mad at your childlike tantrum you were throwing just now. i mean, it was pretty funny. but he knew if you never unpacked today, those boxes would become part of the house, and he didn’t feel like navigating through a bunch of boxes for the next couple of years, so he decided to be a good boyfriend and help you get off the bed,

by pushing you off, like a good boyfriend would do.

you land on the ground with a loud thud, which emits an unusual giggle from mike.

“you motherfucker.” you say while laying face down on the ground.

he walks over to you and crouches down to get on your level. you open your eyes to find him smiling at you in your immature state. before he can react you kiss him and pull him down by his neck so now he’s on laying on the ground kissing you.

he’s quick to wrap his arm around your lower back and pull you, so you’re both on your sides. you put a hand up on his cheek and smile into the kiss.

yeah, you could definitely get used to this every day.

hiii !! if it's not too much to ask could we get a peeta x reader (m or gn) and reader gets sick so peeta takes it upon himself to take care of them?? really fluffy with reassurance that reader's not a bother, cooking, baking bread, bathing reader etc. I LUVV UR WORK !

the doctor is in

pairing: peeta mellark x gn!reader

summary: after you get sick, peeta takes it upon himself to be the person taking care of you. this can technically take place after mockingjay, but there’s no real mention of any of that so…read it however you would like

warnings: mentions of throwing up, slight bit of angst because reader feels a bit emotional

word count: 953

author’s note: neww format!! and thank you!! there is NOT enough peeta content in this world. also, it’s never too much to ask! hope you like this, i made it with lots of love ☆

waking up should be nice. comforting. especially in peeta’s arms. but that was not the case for today. why? because you woke up with a searing headache, a sore throat, and an awfully runny nose. the morning sun, which you would usually love, was doing the absolute worst for your condition.

and as much as you loved the boy with his arm around your waist, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer in this position, so you proceeded to remove his arm from your waist, and sit up.

big mistake.

because unbeknownst to you until now, this mystery illness had another symptom, which you just found out was nausea. yayyy.

you used whatever remaining strength you had left to make it to the bathroom to throw up. if the world wanted a way to make you feel worse than you already did, this was the way.

you had been doing that for what felt like hours, and then you felt your hair being pulled from your face, and an arm rubbing your back softly.

your body finally decided to give you a break from the torment, and you looked up to find none other than your beautiful, tired boyfriend; peeta.

“well, you’re up early.” he says.

you turn around to face him and give him a small, exhausted smile in response. but that was all he needed.

“you feeling okay?”

you shake your head.

“well, let’s get you cleaned up, then you can head back to the bed, alright?” he says, rubbing your arms up and down.

nodding in response, he helps you stand up and gets your toothbrush for you.

you brush your teeth as he exits the room to get something. who cares if brushing your teeth immediately after vomiting is bad for your teeth? it’s not like you were gonna stand around with the taste of your own vomit in your mouth.

you finish brushing and feel some sense of normalcy return to the morning. as you put away your toothbrush and toothpaste, peeta enters the room and ushers you to the bed. there’s an array of items on it: blankets, medicine, extra pillows, and much more.

as he gently sits you down and the bed, you try to protest and say that you can’t be sick today, that you have things to do. but before you can he cuts you off.

“shh, let me take care of you, for once. please?”

he puts a hand on your cheek, and you just can’t resist his request when you look into those precious, soft eyes of his.

“okay.” you say in a very hoarse voice. that word will probably the first and last word uttered today, since even saying it sent intense pain throughout your throat.

“oh look, they speak.” he jokingly says.

you roll your eyes before he gives you a kiss on the forehead before tucking you into the bed, and asking you how many blankets you would like and if you wanted the windows open.

the whole day was filled with forehead kisses, sweet nothings, and a lot of tissues.

and you weren’t gonna lie, the multiplied affection peeta gave you continuously throughout the day made you feel a lot better. but it also made you worried. were you burdening peeta with all your wants and needs? the idea made you feel a little more nauseous than you already were, so you decided to toss it to the side.

you thought the affection would at least dwindle down as it was nearing evening, but you were quickly corrected as you smelt the mouth-watering aroma of fresh bread waft throughout the house.

as the day went on, your voice became easier to use, so when peeta walked through the door with a delicious looking meal and a slice of fresh bread, you could finally ask him something you’d been wondering the whole day.

“are you sure i’m not a burden to you?”

he looks a bit taken aback, like the idea that you just told him was something he had never heard or thought of in his life.

he puts the tray of food down before he goes to sit on the side of the bed. he puts a hand on your cheek for the fiftieth time before speaking.

“now i know you’re really sick.”

you laugh, confusedly.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, leaning into his hand.

“it means that you’re not thinking right, because what you’re thinking is quite the opposite.” he says, with a small smile.

“are you sure? i mean, because i—“

but he puts two fingers to your mouth.

“will you let me speak?” he asks with a sweet tone that makes you melt.

“you’re important to me, and you’re obviously not feeling well. i just want to make you feel good, because that’s what you deserve. you’re always talking care of me, but sometimes i just wanna take care of you. because i love you.”

this wasn’t the first time you heard him say i love you, but all the feelings you felt when he first said it are certainly there.

he removes his fingers from your lips, and you give him a smirk that gradually turns into a big, toothy grin.

“i love you too.” you say.

he smiles before giving you an actual kiss, on the lips.

when he pulls back, you give him a soft hit on the shoulder.

“peeta! you’re gonna get sick, too!”

“then i can lay with you all day.” he says, while getting in bed and wrapping an arm around you.

“oh yeah? then who’s gonna take care of us?” you ask.

“both of us.” he replies.

“i don’t think that’s how it works, honey.”

—————

please give feedback! it’s very appreciated ☆

can I please request a blurb or something where the reader admires Mike’s eyes? it’s canon that he once went on a date with a girl in high school who never went on a second date with him because she said his eyes were “too intense” so I would love to see his reaction to the reader saying that it is their favorite thing about him :) I enjoy reading your work btw!

my favorite things

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

summary: mike has never had anyone compliment him, not in a long time, at least.

warnings: light cursing

word count: 389

author’s note: super short, but i just LOVE how this turned out. hope y’all love it ☆

“and i just can’t fucking believe how stupid this is because. . .”

mike was ranting about one of the many, many problems he had at his new job. you had been dating each other for about 4 months, but since this wasn’t your first time listening to him, you decided to fix your eyes on one of his features.

today, you decided to fixate yourself on his eyes. oh, you could get lost in his eyes forever. they were brown, but when the light shines on them, like how the sun does when he wakes up in the morning, there’s a slight greenish hue to them. they almost turn hazel. it reminded you of the clear, autumn sky.

it sounds cliché, but you thought that his eyes told so much about him. there was a tired, stressed look to his eyes. but in moments where it was just the two of you, together, alone, they were loving. longing. like you were what he was looking for for forever, and he finally found it.

“hey. hey, are you listening?”

mike brings you back down to earth with his question while waving his hand in your face. he doesn’t look upset at the fact that you were obviously not listening to him. he was just confused. a little amused, too. maybe there was something on your mind, he thought. i mean, you were staring into his eyes for five minutes straight, and he only noticed now.

“what’s with you?” mike asks.

“nothing, i just…you have really pretty eyes.” you confess.

he laughs and rolls his eyes. “yeah, sure.” he says.

“you do!” you suddenly get defensive. you knew he was never the confident type—hell, he rarely said one good thing about himself, but you were surprised that out of all the compliments you gave him, this was the one he denied?

“they’re my favorite thing about you.”

you move over to sit right next to mike, and you put his arm around your shoulder and lean into him.

“and i have a lot of favorite things about you, mike.”

you look up at him and smile. he smiles back, and suddenly all of the stress from his eyes disappeared, replaced only by love.

“oh, yea?” he asks.

he gives you a sweet kiss, one full of gratitude.

“tell me all about it.”

please give feedback! it’s very appreciated ☆

y’all i may or may not have gotten sick (i accidentally manifested it from that peeta fic) so i’m gonna put a hold on writing until i feel better. so sorry, i’ll be back soon! 🫶🫶

hiya!! I hope you feel better soon and ur taking care of yourself <33

hii! i’m FINALLY getting over what i had, and i’m gonna get back to posting and writing real soon. thank you so much for checking in 🫶 it means so much 💞