He loves you even when you don’t love yourself. He loves your chubby cheeks that you hate and spend so much unnecessary time trying to contour and slim. He didn’t care that you woke up with a blemish on your forehead, or that it added to the many more blemishes you disliked on your face. The size on your jeans didn’t matter, he loved the way they hugged your curves. The muffin top that poured over the waistband of your jeans was okay because it came from you two laughing and eating your favorite food at 3 in the morning. He’d rather you spend as much time with him then spend hours at the gym trying to flatten your stomach. He loved the way your eyes lit up when you walked through Sephora and saw all of the pretty makeup you loved to play with, but didn’t necessarily need. That tight black dress that you hate because it shows your thick thighs and back fat? He adores it because it shows off your top notch booty, he might even get in a grab here and there when you’re out with friends. It’s okay that you have a few fat rolls when you lay on your side, I know he’ll spoon you anyway and don’t you dare worry about those stretch marks, if you look a little closer he might have a fair few too. Don’t be afraid to have him pick you up or sit in his lap, I promise you’re not too heavy. If you don’t feel like wearing a bra, don’t wear one, your breasts don’t have to be constantly pushed up to look fuller and rounder. They’re perfect just the way they are and so are you.
For the girl who told me to remember the girls who aren’t ‘small’ <3
A/N: Requests for fanfictions are still open, if you want to request a one shot please can you send me a question and not through my messages, it makes it easier for me to remember which fanfictions still need to be written. Thanks! Also, sorry this isn’t that good, oops! x
You struggled trying to wiggle your way out of his grip but it only tightened on your arm, leaving behind red marks on your arm. You let out a loud scream as he smacked a hand across your face adding another bruise to your already bruised body.
“Shut up bitch,” he cursed as he began to drag you painfully into his bedroom, you cried silently as tears ran down your cheeks. All of a sudden, a loud knock filled the room causing your father’s head to snap upwards.
He pushed you down onto the couch, snapping you a look you knew too well, the look that told you to stay quiet or else you would be punished. A small whimper escaped your mouth as he opened the door replacing his scowl with a sickly fake smile.
You turned around looking at the door, your head peeking from behind the couch. The door revealed two smartly dressed men holding up some sort of badge, you had seen people dressed like this on TV and you knew that they helped people. Maybe they could help me.
The two men sat down on the couch opposite you and your father as they began to ask him questions. A few moments into the conversation, the tall man with long brown hair began to look at you with concern. He ducked his head down slightly narrowing his eyes as he took in your bruised face and arms. He leaned over and whispered something to his partner’s ears causing both of their eyes to roam over your body making you shift uncomfortably.
“Mr. Y/LN, may you show me the pictures you found,” one of the agents asked.
“Sure, be good for Agent Scully honey,” your dad said patting you roughly on the head, what would have been a nice gesture to anyone else, you knew to be a warning, its seemed to be that the agent noticed the roughness of the touch too. Once your father had left the room, the man ducked down so that he was eye level with you before speaking.
“My name is Sam Winchester, the man in there with your father is my brother Dean. Y/N, do you mind telling me how you got these bruises?” he pointed to your arms, his voice was soft and laced with concern, something you had not heard in a while.
Shyly, you shook your head which just confirmed Sam’s suspicions of where the bruises truly came from but he needed to hear you say it before he could take you away from the man.
“I-I, he told me not to,” you stuttered out.
Even though Sam knew, his heart sunk when you said that, somewhere deep down he didn’t want to believe it was true, that this poor innocent child was being abused. Anger filled his body but he didn’t let it show, he didn’t want to frighten you anymore than you already were.
“Y/N, I promise you that I will get you safely out of here, you just need to stay behind me okay?”
You nodded completely trusting the man.
Once Dean and your father came back into the room, you cowered further behind Sam remembering what he had said and that you would be safe, all you needed was to not be afraid.
Dean nodded and shot a knowing glance towards Sam when he saw you behind him, they must have been whispering about you earlier.
“Mr. Y/LN, we’re taking Y/N back to the station with us as she appears to be in danger here,” Sam spoke sternly.
“You little bitch, whatever she said she fucking lied to you,” your father tried to lunge for you behind Sam but with a quick punch to the face from Dean, he was unconscious on the floor.
“Come on Y/N, everything’s going to be okay now,” Sam reached down grabbing your hand to pull you out of the door and you smiled as for the first time in a while you truly believed that everything would be fine.
At their calling, Loki and Thor raced each other from the courtyard to the throne room where their mother stood with a young girl beside her. Well, hiding beside her would be more accurate. The poor girl was almost completely hidden behind the boys’ mother’s legs, trembling as though the ground around her might suddenly engulf in flames.
“Boys, I would like you to meet Y/N,” their mother introduced you, half-heartedly trying to pull you around enough for the two young boys to see your face. “She’s rather shy,” she explained, adding, “Your father rescued her from where the Frost Giants- you shuddered slightly at the reminder- were holding her and her family.”
Thor, the one with the blond hair and the big grin, bounded right up to you and wrapped you up in a bone-crushing hug. “It’s great to meet you, Y/N!” he grinned, spinning you round and round. “Someone more to play with!”
Loki, the one with the dark hair and the quiet smile, waited for Thor to wander off in pursuit of something that had distracted him, before nervously advancing and offering a hand. “Nice to meet you, I’m Loki,” he told you with a small smile.
“Race you to the dining room!” you laughed, already running in the direction of the palace, ahead of Thor and Loki.
“Hey, that’s not fair!” they called back in unison, running to catch up with you. “You had a head start!”
You are the first back to the dining room and you grin as the other two finally reach it too, sticking your tongue out when they make their panted protests. “You know I won!” you argue.
Loki smiles a small smile that you miss because you’ve turned around to grab an apple and some other food for lunch, and pinches Thor when he opens his mouth to argue once more. With a minute shake of the head, Loki eyes his brother down and tells you, “Alright, alright, you won, Y/N.”
A feeling of pride and happiness swells in your chest and you smile at the brothers before trotting off to one of your hidey-holes, to eat your lunch in peace.
“Hey, Y/N,” a quiet voice and a tentative shaking wakes you up. Looking around in the darkness of your chambers, you spot Loki by the side of your king-size four poster and rub the sleep out of your eyes.
“Loki?” you mumble, taking in the moonlight still pooling in through the balcony, and the gentle night breeze still ruffling the light curtains. “What are you doing in here? It’s still night.”
“I want you to see something,” he tells you, that small smile alighting his face.
With little protest, you oblige and pull on a shaul and a pair of slippers, following him out of the room and down several corridors. After a little while, he slips his hand into yours- shooting a quick glance- and tugged you into the courtyard and out to the lake.
“Loki, where-” you were cut off by Loki shushing you and pointing to the lake.
You gasped. The lake looked like crystal in the light of the moon and the stars were twinkling overhead like pinpricked candles, a thousand leagues away. The trees were like tall sleeping soldiers in the dark and shadowed a small clearing by the lake where night creatures leapt in and out of the shallow bay.
“Loki…” you whispered, leaning into his all grown-up side, now muscular and warm. “Its beautiful.”
His eyes flickered to you. “Yes. I suppose it is.”
Alright, kiddos, life hack here from your unofficial tumblr mom.
We all know acne sucks. We all know dry skin sucks. We all know that face wash is too expensive because we’re poor.
I have a solution for ya.
Go get yourself a box of baking soda, it should cost around 80-99 cents.
Bring that gold nugget of a miracle home, get something to mix in, and dump yourself a heaping amount of baking soda into your chosen mixing vessel. Add a tiny splasheroo of water and mixy mixy.
It should turn into a clumpy paste goo that you can scoop up with your fingers. If it’s too runny, add some more baking soda. If it’s dry and crumbly and won’t hold together, add a lil more water. But careful on the water adding, this stuff dissolves fast.
Take a moment, wet your face.
Once you’ve got a wet face and a gooey pasty sodium bicarbonate mess, scoop up a quarter sized amount (or less, or more, you do you). Rub that onto your face, because you have just made your own face wash.
Baking soda has some pretty neat antibacterial properties, so it helps with the root cause of acne. As well, it’s a killer exfoliant, so it gets all that nasty dead skin off. And the sodium helps with sucking up extra oils, but it doesn’t dehydrate your skin like soaps do.
Now two words of warning:
One, it is a pretty powerful exfoliant, so be careful when you’re scrubbin it up or you might scrub your whole face off your skull. If you have sensitive skin, just rub gently til you get a feel for how it’s working.
Two, make sure you don’t get it in your mouth. Not because it’ll hurt you (it’s actually super duper good for your teeth), but because it tastes like salty garbage. On that note, don’t use it on skin that’s cracked or otherwise injured and open, because it’ll burn like the pits of Hades.
Unrelated side note: this stuff is also a great foot scrub, cuz it gets rid of dead skin and issues with odor.
Go forth, save money, and have lovely soft skin, my children.
Request: Can you do a grant imagine were he and the reader are being interviewed together but haven’t ever met (like on James corden were they interview multiple people at once) and she’s an actress on stranger things and they are asked about both of there shows and after the interview her and grant exchange numbers and eventually start dating
Don’t hate me, but I actually don’t watch Stranger Things so I know nothing about the show…. Umm… Sorry… I changed it to Supergirl instead, I hope you don’t mind..
Um… guys… I was thinking about doing a Zoom Imagine next? Maybe?
REQUESTS ARE OPEN! (be sure to read my bio tho!)
I hope you enjoy!
You were being fussed over by the talk show’s prep team. They were ruffling your hair while adding powder to your face and neck. A man stood next to you and gave you a warm smile. You knew this man as he did guest star in one of your show’s, Supergirl, episodes. “Nice to see you again.” Grant smiled. When he was on set, you didn’t really get to speak to him outside of set. He was busy on his show and it was just one episode he made an appearance in. The two of you tried to make plans with the rest of your cast but the plans had always been rainchecked due to conflict in schedules.
“Likewise, Gustin.” You said as you jokingly bumped his hip with yours. “We finally get to do an interview together.”
“Crazy.” Grant nodded. And then he was called off to the stage as they were already airing. “That’s my cue. See you in a few seconds.” He patted your arm before heading off onstage. Your hand covered the exposed skin he had touched; goosebumps had risen from your arm, most likely an affect Grant had on you. Hey, what can you say? He’s an attractive man who has a bright personality that makes girl swoon.
They called you and you ran onto stage, the crowd cheering. “Now Grant, I interviewed you last year.” The interviewer stated and Grant nodded in agreement. “But (Y/N), I never had the chance to. You’re actually the first cast member of Supergirl that I get to interview. Hope I don’t screw up.” You along with the crowd chuckled. “Now, let’s all pretend Grant isn’t here and let’s faun over (Y/N). That dress is lovely.” You gave him a polite thank you. “Is this more comfortable than the Wonder Woman costume you wear on Supergirl?”
You gave a playful smile before shaking your head. “My job is awesome, especially with the uniform I have to wear.” You winked into the camera and the crowd burst out into laughter. “But in realness, yes, this along with many of my outfits on Supergirl is a lot more comfortable than the Wonder Woman costume.”
“Grant, we’re paying attention to you now.” Grant laughed as the interviewer changed subjects. “You said that there’s a system to get into the Flash costume?”
Grant nodded. “It used to take like forty minutes to an hour to get into that. And then I’d wear it for like ever in the heat.”
“It rubs everything?” You smirked at him and Grant’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. It suited him.
“Does yours?” He challenged.
“Oh yeah.” You answered along with another wink.
After a few more questions about your shows, the interviewer switched to more personal questions. “Now, I have to know and this is our final question. Who is your celebrity crush?” He asked the two of you.
Without thinking, on both your parts, the two of you responded with:
The interviewer gave a proud look. “I ship it.” And the whole room went into hysterics. After ending the show, the two of you headed off to your own destinations. You were contemplating running to Grant and asking for his number. But would that make you look too desperate? A million questions zipped through your mind until you decided to be bold and you swiftly turned around to run to him only to run into a wall.
“Sorry!” Grant apologized, helping you steady your balance. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just wanted to see-I mean know- if you uh… Wanted to hang sometime?” You thought he said it so confidently but in Grant’s mind he was face palming.
You gave him a sweet smile. “Just what I was going to ask you.” You two then exchanged numbers.
-=3 years later=-
The same interviewer clapped and the audience sat in anticipation. “Ladies and gentlemen, this dynamic duo has us all falling in love with their relationship. Let’s welcome Grant Gustin and (Y/N) (Y/L)!” The two of you situated yourselves and the interviewer’s first question was, “How does it feel to be the future Mrs. Grant Gustin, (Y/N).”
“Amazing. I’m marrying my Celebrity Crush.” You smiled as Grant intertwined your hands.
I laid with him tonight, just looking at his face. Studying all of the little scars along his cheeks. I remembered back to when he told me to look at the ‘little glimmering cuts on his knuckles.’ “These are all teeth.” he added. Then I had wondered if as many fists had hit his face. It hurt me to know that he’d ever been filled with so much anger and pain that his release was bloody knuckles and bruised eyes. “We all have our battle scars.” He then mentioned as he noticed the worry flood my face.
Now, I know that I can’t just go back and take that pain from him. I also know that without his battle scars, he wouldn’t be who he is. But I can promise him that from here, he’s no longer a one man army.
A/n: I’m so sorry this took so long. I slack so much. Forgive me.
He’s been away for so long. With the comeback and a new round of award shows, you’ve had very little time to spend with your boyfriend. You knew what you were getting into dating an idol. But you have never felt this lonely in the past two years. You missed the way he’d stare at you, the way he’d call you beautiful every morning, how he would squeeze your hand every few minutes, the way his face squished while he slept, and his playful ways.
some of the best moments with calum would be the late nights you’d spend being alone together whenever he wasn’t away on tour. you’d lie curled up against with your legs entwined with his and your fingers tangled in his curly hair. some nights neither of you would say anything - you’d simply just enjoy the feeling of being together, listening to nothing but the melodic beats of your synchronized hearts and each other’s harmonious breaths. other nights would be marked by philosophical and heartfelt talks about anything and everything. like the night he asked for your hand in marriage (or rather, he had implied that he wanted to ask). “my hands?” you had replied, english not being your first language and therefore sometimes causing confusion when calum used sayings you had never heard before. “yeah…” he had pondered in response, smiling ever so softly at the blushed, confused look gracing your face. “i wanna marry you. someday” he added, unsure of your reaction. but you had just blushed even more, smiling fondly as your eyes scanned over his beautiful face - the crinkles that you loved, the pink chappy lips, his big bushy eyebrows, the deep chocolate eyes, and that beautiful nose
of his. calum’s cheeks had also flushed pink but as you said “i wanna marry you too” his nerves disappeared as quickly as they had arisen, only to be replaced by immense love and insane joy. his heart had swelled up with nothing less than pure, unadulterated happiness when you had interlaced your fingers with his and softly kissed the tip of his nose before saying “but when we’re married, can we get puppies instead of kids?”
18- Who leaves little notes in the other’s one lunch? (Bonus: what does it usually say?)
Personally I think it’s Mats and usually it’s like “have a great day liebe!” (Rafa scoffs and says “we’re literally spending our day together at training”) but recently he’s been adding “I’m still sorry about your face” and “you’re still a model to me” lmao