Can You Do A Peeta Mellark X Fem!reader

Can you do a Peeta Mellark x fem!reader

Yes, of course! If anyone has any requests send them and I'll try and get around to them.

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do u think Chloe and her mom relationship gonna be slightly different now that she know about Cinderella past?

oh why do you think Cinderella never told her children about her life before

Hi!

Omg, I love these asks, you have no idea.

Okay, so, I think that Chloe might feel a little bit different every time she looks at her mom now, but not in a bad way at all! I feel like she might, let's say, appreciate her mom even more than she did before now that she knows what her mom has been through. I feel like Chloe feels bad that her mom had such a horrible family before and was treated so terribly. However, I also feel like she admires her hard work and determination and is proud of how strong her mom truly is.

Also, I feel like Cinderella didn't tell her daughter about her past, probably because she just wanted to leave the past where it should be and probably because she maybe didn't want to get through that again, even if it were by memories. I also feel like she probably didn't want to traumatize Chloe or make her feel bad.


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Descendants Taglist

All -> @xoxo-h3arts @i-am-fork @a-homosexual-homosapien @snixx2088 @heartsfromcoco @hiireadstuff @cyb3r-st4r @angeliangelo @judgment-days-kid @mitsiell @ratchetprime211 @milo-webp @teti-menchon0604 @pvmkyn-sp1c3 @mystic-mae @leftmooncollector @liaaa-1 @formula1-motogpfan @cupidsgift @wakanda-forever-andotherfandoms

Captain Hook -> @ariaroseloklover @isafran1125 @gayfrog29 @mystic-mae @emirambles @elltheawkward @loomindoors @4ng3l-ch1ld @mawkwbwwb @alexisanxious @thatblog22 @ljaylmaoo @dreamerofasgard @aiyuhh @paigehughes28 @lesbpotmurdocklokistan

Morgie -> @ariaroseloklover @alexisanxious @thatblog22

Hades -> @that-fanfic-reader25 @thatblog22 @dreamerofasgard @aiyuhh @paigehughes28

Red -> @ghost-goddess7

Chloe Charming -> @ghost-goddess7


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So I may or may not have another heartbreaking Damiano (song) imagine in my drafts. 🤔

I may also have a Thomas (song) imagine in the works but who know really? 🤷‍♀️


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please never stop talking passionately about the things you love

I LOVE YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS!!!❤️ Literally in love with this man.

Oh No

AN: So I can’t stop thinking about them *cough* ESC 2023 contestants *cough* and this came out. I’m so sorry.

AN2: yes, I’m from Europe if anyone was wondering; also, excuse my English but it’s not my first language.

Bojan Cvjetićanin x fem!actress!reader

Surprise in the end!

Words: 1500+

Oh No

Bojan couldn’t wait.

He was ecstatic, unable to keep himself still as he was being driven to the airport in Liverpool.

“Will you stop moving,” Jan sighed, nudging him with his elbow.

“He hasn’t seen her in a month, Jan,” Nace retorted, “of course he’s excited.”

He couldn’t even answer to them as his bandmates continued arguing over if he should or shouldn’t be this nervous about seeing his girlfriend again. After all, he was going to see her today, and that just made him so giddy he couldn’t focus on anything else.

The thing is, she had been away in America, filming a new TV show that would undoubtedly be loved by the public once it was out; so she couldn’t exactly accompany him in his Eurovision journey since him and his friends were elected in Slovenia.

He was so proud of her for making it into another soon-to-be hit show, but he missed her so very much during the last month. It’s true they tried calling each other every chance they had, but the time difference and their busy schedules didn’t let them be part of each other’s lives as much as they were used to.

Bojan couldn’t wait to give her the biggest hug and all the kisses he couldn’t give her when they were apart. He cringed at himself at the thought. That was disgusting.

“Hey!” A clap resounded in the air just millimetres away from his face.

“What?”

“We’re here,” Kris told him, clapping his shoulder.

He looked around. He was the only one left in the van. The Slovene swallowed thickly. Why was he so nervous about meeting her?

He walked out of the vehicle, following the rest of his bandmates inside the airport and wringing his sweaty hands together.

They had all been careful, not saying anything on social media or giving away the fact that she was coming, even if he wanted to scream it at the world. He hadn’t even told any of the new friends he had made because of Eurovision. All of this wasn’t because their relationship was a secret, it couldn’t be further from that, but they didn’t want that much attention at their first meeting in a month. One never knows how he’s going to react.

When he arrived at the correct place with his best friends, he heard Jan asking him:

“Do you know if she’s already landed?”

He shook his head and grabbed his phone, realising he had a message from two minutes ago telling him she had, in fact, landed.

He put his phone away, staring directly at the exit doors the people from her flight would be using.

“I’m taking that stupid grin as a ‘yes, she’s landed’.”

Bojan nodded but didn’t look away, his eyes stinging. He refused to blink, what if he didn’t see her?

Big groups of people started getting out through the doors, Bojan getting more anxious as time passed and she didn’t appear. What if she changed her mind, all this time away from him making her realise she didn’t need him?

He didn’t have time to dwell on it, though. He saw her, carrying her luggage around with tired eyes that changed the second they landed on him.

A big smile spread across her cheeks as she started running towards him, leaving her suitcase near the rest of his bandmates and jumping up. He started chuckling the moment he felt her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, reacting and putting his own hands below her to support her weight on him.

For long moments, they stayed like that, breathing each other in and feeling the warmth of the other’s skin on theirs; ignoring the other men’s cheers and puking sounds.

She was the first to move, removing her head from the junction between his shoulder and neck and smiling up at him with a shine in her eyes.

“Hi!”, she exclaimed.

“Hello,” he smiled back.

She noticed the soft look in his eyes, the small but genuine smile on his lips, it made the butterflies in her belly push against her skin, wanting to be able to touch him and be with him even closer than she was now.

“Are you not going to say anything about the rest of us?” Jure let out, feigning annoyance but with a huge smile on his face.

“I don’t know about that…,” she couldn’t help but match his energy, slowly getting down from her boyfriend’s embrace and going over to the guys, giving each of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Why do they get a kiss?” Bojan asked half jokingly half seriously wandering why he couldn’t get one, “I’m your boyfriend! Your boyfriend!”

“Alright, alright… don’t be a big baby, love.”

“No!”

They drowned out the sound of the boys’ whines as they did, in fact, kiss. Bojan couldn’t help but tighten his grasp on her when she started to move away from him, chasing after her lips and giving her another sweet peck before she could escape him.

When he opened his eyes, she saw hers were still closed, a pink flush dusting over her cheeks. She opened her eyes and he saw the entire universe in them. His world.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Jan said, exasperated, “let’s go back to the hotel.”

“And no more kissing,” Kris added, “please.”

The couple laughed at the disgusted faces with which the rest of the group agreed, her taking his hand and following them to the van.

The rest of the day was spent meeting and getting to know the other ESC participants, as her boyfriend and his band had insisted so much in it.

They did leave her luggage in his hotel room first, but right after that they went to meet the band Voyager, and then Alessandra, Vesna, Blanca Paloma, and the rest of them.

She had had fun with all of them and sung a little of their songs with their respective artists, since she had heard them all countless times before.

The only one who she hadn’t met yet was the Finnish contestant, who she was the most curious about. She had to admit she enjoyed the vibe of his song the most (even more than her boyfriend’s, but she wouldn’t admit it to anyone), and he seemed like a great guy whenever Bojan talked about their hang outs.

Apparently, Käärijä had been gone the whole morning, no one knowing where he had gone off to at all. Her boyfriend wanted her to meet him, after all, the Finn had quickly become one of his best friends, sharing his energy and sense of humour.

“Guys!” Alessandra ran to them when they were coming back to the hotel from having lunch outside, “there’s gonna be a party today! The hotel’s throwing it for us!”

“We’ll go for sure, right?” Jure looked at his mates and the girl.

After they all agreed, Alessandra invited them for coffee and they went along with her, chatting about any topic that came to mind.

“What are you gonna wear tonight?” the Norwegian singer asked her.

“I’m not sure, I don’t think I have anything party-appropriate in my suitcase…”

“We’ll see about that, let’s go get it and to my room! I’m gonna make you look amazing!” She said excitedly, taking her hand and leading her upstairs, leaving the boys startled but laughing either way.

When it was time for the party, the girl went back to her boyfriend’s hotel room with the outfit her and Alessandra had come up with. She liked it, as it was comfortable but also dressy enough to wear to a party.

She knocked twice.

Her boyfriend opened the door, a black sweater, black jeans and black boots on.

“Oh no! They made her emo!” She said in English.

“Shut up!” He chuckled, pushing her playfully and fake-glaring at her.

She giggled and pushed him back. They ended up full on laughing in the middle of the hotel’s hallway, earning a few weird glances from people walking by.

When they calmed down enough to start talking normally again, Bojan extended his arm for her to take.

“Shall we go?” He asked in the most British accent he could muster.

“We shall,” she answered.

That’s how they found themselves having dinner with his band mates and the rest of the Eurovision contestants and technicians. Still, the Finn was nowhere to be seen.

“Have you seen Jere today?” ALIKA asked Bojan, a slight worried look in her eyes.

“Not really. I was gonna ask you the same thing, honestly.”

The Estonian singer let out a small sigh, continuing to eat while chatting away with the rest of the people at their table.

“Maybe something happened?” His girlfriend asked him, worried too after learning that no one knew where the guy was.

“We should probably check,” he replied, “when we finish, yeah?”

She nodded, going back to eat and watching her boyfriend do the same.

When the party started, Bojan and her went to the Finnish rapper’s door, knocking but hearing no response.

Giving up after a handful of tries, they went back to the party and tried to forget about it. Surely, they’d see him tomorrow, wouldn’t they?

However, tomorrow quickly turned into today when they caught a glimpse at the bowl-cut black hair and they headed towards Käärijä so that Bojan could properly introduce her to him.

“Jere! Finally man, you disappeared the whole day!”

“We go see Liverpool with my brother,” he said, smiling at the sight of the Slovene.

“That’s great!” Bojan smiled too, “you could’ve said something, though, didn’t answer my texts.”

“Sorry,” his smile turned sheepish.

That’s when he turned to her; the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, smiling at him with her eyes sparkling.

“This is my girlfriend,” his daydreaming got cut off by Bojan speaking.

Oh no.

“Hello,” he greeted, “you are beautiful,” slipped through his lips. He just had to say it, couldn’t hold it in.

Bojan huffed out a small laugh at that.

“Thanks!” She giggled cutely.

Oh no.

“I think you’re pretty cool, too!” She said in a perfect Finnish.

He was fucked.

Oh No

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’i know, sugar, i know.’

’i Know, Sugar, I Know.’

summary: finnick comforts reader after a nightmare

warnings: mentions of violence, death, pain, fear and forced prostitution (let me know if there’s more)

’i Know, Sugar, I Know.’

hot tears are running down your cheeks over already dry ones, like the adrenaline through your body. your hands are trembling as you hurry along the path that goes through victors village. it’s covered in sand. almost everything in your district is. sand from the beach, little stones and pieces of seashells, crushed under the peacekeepers’ boots. you’re running away. why? isn’t that obvious? you’re a victor, haunted by nightmares like every other one. where to? you don’t even know yourself. just away from your house, not your home. the house you got gifted in return for your cruel actions. actions that still haunt you and always will. you never wanted this. yes, before you did all of this you had to work hard to survive and still only barely made it. but was it really worth it? you know the answer. no.

definitely not.

when you win the hunger games, you can be free, live a happy life and the games are over for you. that’s what they say. well, guess what. that’s not true. the games never end, even if you won them. you can never really win. you aren’t free and president snow makes sure for you to know that.

your life had never been perfect but before you were thrown into an arena with 23 children that wanted to kill you, you were happier. the ones you killed yourself still haunt you, you see them in the scared, little kids at the reaping, your new mentees. the capitol is cruel. the four words repeat in your head. over and over again, the sand is hurting your feet but you don’t pay attention to that. you’re running through the village without stopping. you are just a kid. just a kid. 17 years old. you should be living your life instead of being sold to people at the capitol. but you can’t do anything about it. your family has no protection except you. you suddenly stop running. where’d muscle memory bring you? you’re standing at the end of the path in front of a house identical to yours. 

finnick. your mind clears up and you find your original intention. the one you had when you left your house. you just want to see him, know if he’s okay, want him to tell you that it’s not real, that he understands you, that he goes through the same things. you want him to hold you close, whisper sweet words to you and wait until you fall asleep. without thinking any longer, you knock on the door. one, two, three, four seconds go by before the door opens. surprisingly fast.

finnick is standing before you, his hair disheveled but perfect, as always, wearing a white shirt and sweatpants. he looks alarmed but sighs loudly when he sees you. his sea green eyes are tired but as piercing as always. he seems to stare directly into your soul but not in a way that makes you uncomfortable. 

‘y/n? what’re you doing here?’ 

‘i’m sorry i woke you,’ you murmur with a soft sniffle.

‘no,no, don’t be. are you okay?’ he asks with a worried frown. you weakly manage to shake your head before the adrenaline from earlier is completely gone. two muscular arms wrap around you, pulling you to his chest where you let out a choked sob. finnick’s heart breaks for you, seeing you like this. to him, it’s a miracle you’re not able to hear it shatter in your position.

without thinking much about it you wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his torso before he picks you up and carries you inside, closing the door behind the both of you. the next thing you know, you’re standing in the kitchen, feet now on the ground but still close to the young man’s chest, listening to his heartbeat and breathing as your crying slowly stops and your breath calms. 

‘hey, it’s okay, i’m here. i’ll protect you, alright? promise,’ he softly mutters into your hair. you can feel his lips move against your scalp as guilt washes over you. you shouldn’t burden him with this. he goes through the same things and you don’t find him knocking at your door in the middle of the night. he’s been doing it for a year longer than you now and he’s never really talked about it to you and how he’s getting by.

‘i’m so, so sorry, finn’ 

‘there’s nothing to be sorry for, sugar’ 

‘but- but you don’t show up at my front door step in the middle of the night because of some-‘ 

he interrupts your ramble. 

‘maybe sometimes i want to.’ he gives you a soft, sad smile. ‘c’mon now. tomorrow’s the reaping, we gotta get some sleep,’ he states and without waiting for a reply, he picks you up again and carries you upstairs to his bedroom. finnick crawls into the bed next to you and pulls you close to his body again where you both lie in a comfortable silence until you start talking. 

‘i saw her again,’ you whisper. ‘the girl from 10. she was only 13 years old.’ your voice breaks. ‘she was just a kid. and i shot her, i killed her. i feel horrible. i’m a monster, finn.’

it’s true. you saw her again in your dream. almost every time your brain puts you back in the arena you see the little girl, your arrow in her chest, the clattering of your bow on the ground as you realise what you had done, the cannon that signals her death.

and then the booming voice that announces you as the winner of the 67th annual hunger games, the winner. 

what a lie. no one ever really wins. 

‘you were just a kid yourself. you didn’t want it, you were forced. it’s not your fault, sweetheart. you’re in district 4, safe,’ he  mutters as you let a few silent tears fall onto his chest, dampening his shirt but he doesn’t care. finnick just wants to hold you, make it stop, protect you from the capitol, snow. if he could take all of your pain and fear away, he would without hesitation. without even thinking about it. ‘but so were you,’ you whisper. ‘you were 14, finnick, 14 and then 16. and now 19. it’s not fair.’ he repositions himself to look at you. there it is again. the sad smile. it says more than a thousand words. and you return it.

‘i know, sugar, i know.’ 

you fall asleep soon after but finnick stays awake for now, unable to bring himself to sleep as well. he watches your facial expressions shift, watches a frown form on your face as you mumble quietly. all he does all night is whisper sweet things to you and hold you close in the hope to ease your mind and help with the nightmares. he silently thinks about the situation you’re both in; forced into prostitution by president snow. an object to buy. he knows that you’re only doing it because you want to protect him and he only does the same to protect you.

ironic, isn’t it? he chuckles softly at the thought before silently vowing to find a way for you out of this, away from the capitol, into a happy and free life. maybe with him. you’d want that. a life with him somewhere down by the coast. 

‘i love you, sweetheart, you don’t even know how much,’ he whispers and plants a soft kiss on your hairline before finally falling asleep with you in his arms. 

a/n: please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it <3 luv ya also I’m laughing at the gif rn because it’s literally finnick casually laughing about his own death i love him

edit: i just noticed that finnick being 19 in this and the sentence ’tomorrow’s the reaping’ means that annie is going to get reaped the next day


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THIS IS SO AMAZING!!

Throws This In Your Inbox And Flees

Throws this in your inbox and flees

five times I wanted to stop working on this and finish it the next day. I don't like how the background came out but it's not bad so

Throws This In Your Inbox And Flees

welp. pls reblog?


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11 months ago

The new Hunger Games book AND the announcement for the movie are the best things that have ever happened to me in my miserable life (even though this will probably make me even more miserable).


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writersblockiskillingme - If a writer falls in love with you, you can't die
If a writer falls in love with you, you can't die

She/Her | Bisexual | Dead inside | Ravenclaw | Swiftie, writer and Marvel fan | Watch me try to write sh*t that I think is good even tho it's really not

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