Josh Hutcherson - Blog Posts

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GUYS OH MY GOD ITS JOSH PIPER AND MATTHEW?!??! TOGETHER?!??!?!?!? SOURCE

I will bark for this man

#joshfutturman

Math drawling 🥰

BRO-

my friend made a JOSH HUTCHERSON COOKIE!

I'm wheezing-

She made the Roblox face as well-

Fell to my knees in a target when I saw Josh won’t have his curls in FNaF 2 💔

I haven’t posted about the FNaF movie in a hot minute, but..

WHAT DO YOU MEAN SKEET ULRICH IS PLAYING HENRY EMILY????

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher reunion OH MY GOD.

So, unfortunately I’m not as attracted to Josh anymore…

Taking off my pants AS I type this

Happy Accident

a little NSFW Mike Schmidt imagine :3

MDNI 18+

This was just going to be a blurb, but I'm losing my mind over the thought of a touch starved, depraved, horny, & slightly perverted Mike Schmidt... so enjoy 2.4k words of filth <3

(gender neutral! reader ❤️)

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• You'd been babysitting Abby for a while, but when Mike got that new night shift job... well, you weren't sure it was going to mesh with your schedule. Still, he needed you. And how could you say no to those big brown eyes?

• So, you started spending your weeknights at the Schmidt house. Mike would get home right as it was time for you to leave for school/work, so you had to get ready at his house, too.

• That meant bringing a change of clothes, usually thrown carelessly into an old blue duffle you used as an overnight bag.

• Coincidentally, Mike's work bag was strikingly similar to your own. If it wasn't just a tad bit dirtier, well... it might be easy to get them mixed up.

• Or... maybe the slight physical differences don't matter when you're both running on hopes, prayers, and caffeine. Hey, it's not easy adjusting to a new schedule. Especially one that requires Mike to leave when he should be going to bed.

• It only took a few days for him to slip up. You were running late that night, and while he couldn't blame you (you get what you pay for, and he hadn't paid you at all) he also didn't have time to stop and chat like normal.

• Instead, he hiked (what he thought was) his bag up on his shoulder, gave you a curt goodbye, and left for another shift at Freddy's.

• At first, everything was normal. He did a quick lap around the building, tried to ignore the creepy shuffling noises coming from shadowy corners, and checked the monitors once or twice before settling down into his chair for the night.

• Mike reached into his bag for his prescription, medicine to help him sleep. Or... perhaps a snack. Maybe even a hoodie he could bunch up on the desk and use as a pillow. Something like that. What his hand actually came back up with made his mind go blank, and he immediately forgot what he'd wanted in the first place.

• In his hand, he held... underwear. And not his own. Definitely not his own. Mike froze, heart pounding as he tried to make sense of what he was holding.

• You. You'd starting bringing a change of clothes for babysitting now, hadn't you? In a... a bag that looked nearly identical to his own. Oh. Oh no.

• Mike dropped the article of clothing, face flushing a deep crimson. Then, feeling guilty at leaving your clothing on the grungy pizzeria floor, he quickly tossed it back in the duffle bag and zipped it up.

• He kicked the whole thing under the desk, trying to hide the evidence further. Who from? He had no idea. Mike felt extra grateful today to be in the one room in the whole building without a security cam.

• Yeah. That's right. No one had to know about this. That he'd... well, it was an accident anyway. How could he have known it wasn't his bag?

• Taking a deep breath, he started to come up with a plan. He'd say he realized it wasn't his bag, but only after getting to work. Once he'd noticed it was yours, he left it in the car and didn't touch it. There. That would work.

• Relieved, Mike lay his head down on the desk to try and get some sleep.

• Unfortunately, sleep never came. He still felt bad about taking your bag, even if it was an accident. What would you wear to work? You always left right as he came home, even if he brought your bag back after his shift you'd still end up leaving late.

• It also didn't help that Mike didn't have his sleeping pills. Or his cassette tape with "sounds of Nebraska" recorded on it. All he had was a stupid Nebraska poster, and a bag that wasn't his. Mike tried staring at the poster, but without the accompanying music and medicine, it did nothing but annoy him.

• Stupid trees. Stupid Nebraska. Stupid job. Stupid Mike. How could he make such a dumb mistake? Surely you'd be angry with him. He hadn't paid you in weeks, and then he goes and makes things even harder for you?

• With his stomach in knots and his mind and heart still racing, Mike resigned himself to not sleeping tonight. Instead, he pushed himself up from the desk and started to pace around the abandoned pizzeria.

• Part of him just needed to relieve some nervous energy, and the other part needed a distraction. From the guilt he felt, yes, but also from that goddamn bag of yours.

• Well, not the bag so much as your clothes. The... intimate ones. Mike slapped his palm to his forehead, trying to physically force out the disgraceful thoughts plaguing his mind. You weren't interested in him like that. This was so fucked up. He was so fucked up.

• A few more slaps to his forehead later, Mike halted in his pacing around the dining room. It had suddenly occurred to him that if anyone did happen to be watching, he'd look pretty silly smacking himself and muttering under his breath like he was.

• Mike turned and eyed the nearest security cam with suspicion, until a soft scraping noise drew his attention on stage. Had Bonnie always been looking this direction?

• Feeling the same level of nervousness and guilt, now accompanied by fear and paranoia, Mike retreated back to the safety of his office. There, he faced the same problems as before, a spike of excitement running through him as his foot brushed your bag under the desk. Maybe he'd take a quick peek at your things?

• No. He couldn't. He shouldn't. It wouldn't be right.

• Still... what else could he do tonight? Mike glanced at the digital clock on the edge of his desk, the flashing red numbers seeming to taunt him as he realized he still had five more hours left in his shift.

• Fuck. With a grunt, he slammed his head down on the desk and covered it with his arms. Just because he couldn't sleep through work tonight didn't mean he had to do his job. No, Mike had decided the very first night that he wasn't paid enough for this bullshit. So he simply worked as little as possible.

• He wasn't going to watch the monitors. And he certainty wasn't going to think about you. Nope. He was simply going to sit here and do nothing. Think about nothing.

Think about nothing.

Think about nothing.

Think about nothing.

• His strategy seemed to work for all of two minutes, repeating the same phrase in his head over and over until he couldn't stand it any longer. Images of you kept popping into his mind. Your smile, your eyes, and that sweet expression of pure warmth you gave him whenever he came home from work. Like you were genuinely happy to see him.

• Nobody else had ever treated him as well as you did. That's why he had to keep these feelings buried, stomp the embers into ash and blow those ashes into the wind. He couldn't afford to lose you.

• Still, Mike couldn't help but wonder. What if the feeling was mutual? Something in his chest stirred, and suddenly all he could imagine was seeing that warm smile of yours underneath him in bed. Would you still be able to run that cute mouth if he pinned you down to the mattress, legs thrown over his shoulders? Or would you find a way to tease him, like usual?

• Shit. Was it getting hot in here? Mike sat up to remove his jacket, then stupidly started for the duffel back to put it away. Right. Not his.

• Mike closed his eyes and suddenly, the piece of clothing in his hand wasn't his at all, but yours. Your underwear. Mike was considering removing his jeans too, as they were rapidly becoming too tight.

• Breathe, Schmidt. Mike took a few deep breaths, but nothing was helping. His blood grew hotter, his pants tighter, and his mind more muddled.

• This was usually the point where Mike would pop on his headphones, listen to the familiar sounds of his tape recorder, stare at a poster, and think "Nebraska" thoughts.

• Unfortunately, without his equipment... this wasn't going to work. He couldn't make it through another ten minutes without some kind of relief, much less an entire shift. Mike dropped the jacket and his hands went to his belt, undoing his pants and immediately dropping those to the floor as well.

• Yeah... maybe a little "stress relief" was all he needed. A distraction. Something to take his mind off you.

• Mike couldn't help but let out a chuckle at that thought. Take his mind off you? As he was palming his hardening cock through his boxers? As if.

• If anything, this would only make him crave you more. But, as he freed himself from the (slightly sticky...) confines of his underwear, he decided that would be a problem for future Mike. Currently, he just wanted to cum. Preferably in you, but all over himself while thinking about you would have to do for now.

• He tried to start slow, he really did. But in a matter of minutes, he was fucking fervently into his hand, hips bucking up off the chair slightly. He kicked off one shoe and wiggled a foot free of his discarded jeans, spreading his legs for stability as he sank back into the seat.

• Precum dribbled down his cock, coating his length and providing some much needed slick. Mike held his breath without realizing it, growing closer to the edge but still not quite there. Damnit.

• After what felt like an eternity of effort, Mike pulled his hand away with a rather pathetic whine. Panting, he scowled down at his still-twitching cock. This was exactly why he didn't often... well, take matters into his own hands.

• It wasn't enough. It wouldn't ever be enough. Not without your warm body wrapped around his. Hand, mouth, anything. Mike would take absolutely anything you were be willing to give. Especially in his current state.

• But he wasn't going to get that, was he? Not now, and probably not ever, if he was honest with himself.

• Mike's heart and cock ached in tandem, frustration bubbling to the surface and drowning out all other thoughts. How could he have been so stupid? Now he'd have to sit here half-naked and even more worked up then when he'd started. Mike bit his lip at the realization that he'd just checked himself into the next circle of hell.

• No, no. He could finish the job. He had to. There was no way he could endure this all shift. Even if he managed, what then? Go home to you and try to muster up an apology while on the verge of creaming his pants? Absolutely not.

• Mike worked his cock again, faster this time. His eyes scanned the room, subconsciously searching for something, anything to help. He was aching. The pressure built and built inside him, his stomach muscles clenching and unclenching in soft ripples as he threatened to spill. It didn't come. He didn't come.

• Finally, his gaze landed on something that made him shudder in excitement. Thinking with his dick and not his brain, he reached for the duffle back under the desk. He just needed a little something to help fuel his imagination. A nudge, that was all. Just a minute. He could return it back to it's spot in your bag after, and you'd never even have to know.

• Shaking, he brought your underwear to his nose with his free hand. The other was gripped tightly around the base of his cock, his mind and senses too overwhelmed by frenzied lust to do anything more than inhale deeply.

• Fuuuuck. It smelled like you. Well, that much was obvious, but never in his wildest wet dreams had he expected you to smell so completely delicious. His mouth watered almost as much as his poor weeping cock as he gave it a few languid strokes.

• In this moment, he wanted nothing more than to put his face between your legs and feast. Lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue, swallowing every drop of your cum until you had nothing more to give.

• His tongue peeked out to lick at the cotton-y fabric of your underwear, imagining the damp spot was from your arousal and not his own mouth. That small taste of you is what finally sent him hurdling over the edge, inhaling sharply and getting one last whiff of your scent before frantically cumming into the closest piece of cloth... your underwear.

• Rope after rope of pearly white release soaked the fabric, again and again until he'd emptied his balls... and then some. Mike fucked into his hand until it hurt.

• When he eventually re-gained enough of his mental capacities to realize his mistake, he let out a groan. Gingerly, he peeled the sticky fabric from his softening cock, whining at how his sensitive damp skin was now exposed to the cool air.

• As he peered at the ruined garment in front of him, Mike came to the conclusion that his situation was not salvageable. He was completely and utterly fucked. In more ways than one.

• He gently tucked himself back into his boxers with a shudder, still reeling in the aftershocks of his intense orgasm. Okay, step one, get dressed. Step two, skip town and never look back. No way in hell he could face you after this, even if he could miraculously get the cum-stains from your clothing.

• But... he had to, didn't he? He couldn't abandon Abby. Or his home. Or you, even, as much as he wanted to crawl into a hole and die right now.

• So, Mike spent the rest of his shift using an ancient bathroom sink and hand soap trying to scrub the evidence away. Maybe... maybe he could salvage this after all.

Or maybe when he looked at you from now on, he'd only be able to see a sick, twisted fantasy, and the shameful result of his indulgence.

Probably the 2nd one. oh well.

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Author's note:

Hi!! Hi!! Hi hi hi hi hi!!! 😁 I'm so happy to finally be able to post something again!! 🥰

It's been almost a year now since I posted a fic, I hope this was a decent comeback!! This one's dedicated to all you peeps who love this pathetic, tired little man as much as I do <3 (Also, I've made a side-blog where I will be reposting all my fics. If you're only here for fanfic and not my shitposting, I completely understand! Or if you just want to follow me on both but only turn on notifications for fanfic, that works too! The account is @stop-talking-vtwo )

I love when people comment on my fics

Like yes, thank you so much for taking time out of your day to write a whole paragraph

someone kill me why have i made 3 accidental posts on my side blog instead of my main..

We are never, ever getting back together (pt 3)

Afab!reader x Mike Schmidt 

pt 1 pt 2

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, slow burn, enemies to friends(?) Slight angst, mentions of custody/family issues, fluff, no use of y/n

A/N: I just wanted to say I'm so sorry for taking almost a year to write this. I was originally going to leave it unfinished, but it didn’t feel fair, plus I've been itching to write something. Sorry this is short, I felt like you guys deserved some clarity at least. Also, I’ve been practicing writing these past few months, so hopefully the quality has increased!

(I did change the tense, so I'm sorry for the difference from the prior parts.)

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Mike was never the type to lie. Ever. He wasn’t perfect all 6 years, but no one is. But, just hours ago he drunkenly admitted he lied to you for years. 

The lie ran through your head like poison, infecting your blood, and making it impossible to think. 

He was drunk. He could barely make it down the hall without your help. But, it was such an odd confession, and he said it with such conviction you had no choice but to believe it was the truth.  You had always believed drunken words were sober thoughts. 

Either way, those 5 little words caused you to call out sick to work the next day. How could you work? How could you walk through the fluorescent-lit halls and act like your world wasn’t torn apart just 12 hours before?

Clapton was still blowing up your phone with texts filled with worry and frustration. You felt bad, sure, but you just couldn’t deal with him.

You flipped open your phone, scrolling through the long slew of messages. 

“Why aren’t you answering me? Did I do smth?”

“U good?”

“Yea. I haven’t been feeling good recently, sry.”

It wasn’t just an excuse; you genuinely felt like shit. A heavy pit settled in your stomach, and a wave of exhaustion washed over you. The thought of confronting Mike loomed over you like a dark cloud. You knew you needed to talk, but the mere thought filled you with dread, tightening your chest and making it hard for you to breathe.

After long, restless hours in bed, the pain in your heart became unbearable, a heavy burden weighing you down. With a deep breath, you finally pushed the sheets aside and got up. The silence of the hall closed in around you as you approached Mike’s door. You hesitated briefly before knocking softly, the sound cutting through the stillness.

With every silent second, your heart pounded louder in your chest, and your palms grew slick with sweat. A chilling wave swept down your spine, tightening the grip of anxiety. The hairs on your arms prickled as the locks clicked and echoed in the silence. You took a deep breath, trying to calm the irrational fear that gripped you.

The door creaked open, and there stood Mike, silhouetted by the dim light behind him. You took a long look at him, your eyes tracing the dark circles under his eyes. He was wearing nothing but basketball shorts. His soft brown curls were a tangled mess, and his skin had an unusual greenish hue. With his eyebrows furrowed together in pain, you could tell that he was suffering from an awful hangover.

“Hey. How are you feeling?” You asked, unable to shake the feeling that he might have forgotten the words he said that carried so much meaning. 

Mike sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “God, I’ve been an ass, haven’t I?” he asked, regret evident in his voice. You chuckled softly, silently agreeing with him.

“It’s… Fine.”

“But, it’s not.” He said, his voice shaky, “You’re so… Good to me. You always have been.” You snapped your eyes up and looked into his. 

“I just… I just don’t understand why you’ve been this way, Mike.”

“I- God, things have just been a mess with Abbs and my Aunt.” 

“Mike…”

“I know. I know, it’s no excuse. I just... You were always my rock. You were the only one who could calm me down, who could help me work through my bullshit.” 

The hatred that simmered deep in your soul slowly melted out of your body the more he talked. The tension in your shoulders deflated, and a sad smile crawled across your face.

“Then why’d you leave me?”

Mike winced, your words stabbing through his beating heart. Before he could speak, you hesitantly brought up the prior night.

“You… You said something last night. That- There wasn’t another girl?”

His eyes widened and his pupils dilated. The horror in his eyes made it apparent that neither of you were ready to have this conversation.

“I think it’s best if you come in.” 

Minutes later, you found yourself situated on his couch, a mug of tea warming your shaking hands. Mike sat down next to you, now covered up with a black sweatshirt.

“Do… Do you remember the first custody battle? When they called you to testify and come to court for days.” He enunciated days like you didn’t remember the grueling weeks you two fought through together. Despite that, you nodded slowly.

“You had to take a gap year. You were so close to getting your teaching degree. It put you behind.”

“I remember.” 

“Well… Um.” He stuttered through his words, almost like it was painful to recount the past. “That week I left... It happened again. Jane tried to get custody. I just.. Couldn't put you through that again. You were on track to getting your dream job, for god's sake. So, I left.”

Your entire body froze as the world around you stopped spinning. Dizziness clouded your head, and your vision became blurry. It didn’t make sense—nothing he said made any sense to you. For two years, you had believed what he told you. You believed that heartless text he sent. You accepted every word.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“It wasn’t fair to drag you into my bullshit. I wanted to protect you and protect Abby. I thought the best way was to get you away from me. I was like a black hole. I sucked the life out of you.” 

“Mike- That’s not true!”

“It is, though! I mean look at you! You have everything. You have your dream career, your dream apartment. Your life became better when I left.”

“Because I had to! That year, I lost everything! I lost my whole world, Mike! I loved you! Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped! I would’ve done anything for you!”

“That’s exactly why I left!” You flinched back, your eyebrows furrowed together. “I just couldn’t watch you interrupt your life for me. Interrupt your dreams. I couldn’t even protect my own sister. How could I sit there and ruin your life, too?”

You wanted to push him, yell at him, but you could tell he was in pain. You could tell guilt was eating him alive, you could tell he was aching. You didn’t want him to feel worse for his actions. But you needed him to know how you felt. You needed him to know how the hole in your heart he left almost consumed you.

“Mike… I spent almost 3 years hating you. Hating myself. I hated myself because I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. You should’ve told me.”

“Good enough? You were too good for me! Hell, you still are. I treated you like shit. I ruined your life! And you still care for me. You still helped me in my lowest moments. You’re beautiful and sweet, and god, you’re just.. An angel. I never deserved you.” He could barely look you in the eyes.

Before your brain could process, and beg you to stop, your hand reached up to cup his jaw. Your thumb drew circles on his skin. His eyes flicked up to yours and his eyebrows shot up his forehead.

“That never stopped me from loving you.” His eyes shone in the apartment lights, illuminating the flicks of gold. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t tear your eyes away. You wanted to stare at him for hours. You wanted to study each crease and wrinkle of his face. You wanted so desperately to count each of his freckles. “Was there really no one else?”

“God, no. There was only ever you.” 

You sighed, the weight of the past slowly lifting off of you. You couldn’t fully trust him, and you knew you could never go back to before. But your heart still screamed for him. It still longed for him. “I wish you didn’t lie to me.”

“Me too.”

Your thumb continued to stroke his soft skin. It was dangerous to be so close. You and Mike knew it. But, it felt right. It felt natural. It felt like two lost puzzle pieces were finally fitting together.

A text notification pinged throughout the room, echoing in the silence. You quickly pulled away and cleared your throat. Mike's eye twitched as he grabbed his phone off the counter. The color in his face drained quickly.

“Shit- It’s Jane.” 

You sighed and looked away from him. “Okay. I should… Go, anyway.”

“Hold on- I’ll walk you out.” He stood up, speed walking to his front door. Before you stepped out, you quickly turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck. You pressed your chest against him, breathing in his cologne. 

He hesitated slightly, worried you would turn to dust if he dared to touch you. After a heartbeat, he gave in. You stood in his doorway, his face tucked into your neck, yours pressed against his chest. His heart beat against his ribs, matching the flutter of yours.

Footsteps echoing against the walls of the apartment hall caused you to tear away from Mike's embrace. 

Clapton stood in the hall, a shopping bag in his hand.

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The room was filled with awkward silence, unspoken apologies, and a tension you couldn’t cut with a chainsaw. Clapton sat on your couch, paralleling your earlier conversation with Mike. He sat there, his leg bouncing up and down quickly.

You opened your mouth to speak, but Clapton quickly cut you off. “I know.”

Bewildered, your eyebrows raised and wrinkles appeared on your forehead. “You- What? Know what?” “That you,” He swallowed. “Used me. I ran into Mike at 7-Eleven yesterday. He told me he moved in next door.”

Your eyes were wide, and guilt began gnawing at your stomach. “Clapton- I- I’m so sorry…”

His eyes were soft, but his lips were downturned. “I get it. I’ve- had my moments like that. Trying to get back at an ex…”

You sucked your bottom lip into your mouth, biting down on the plush skin. “You've sent glitter bombs over to someone's house and fucked someone so loud you dented your wall?” Clapton’s eyes widened and he chuckled.

“Well- I- That’s original.” Now it was your turn to laugh, though the sound felt hollow and insincere. He was right. You acted like a middle-schooler. For god's sake, you were a teacher. You were supposed to be the responsible one, the one guiding the next generation to success and maturity. But you were instead getting fucked at 3 am and sending prank packages to get back at an ex. The moment you had that revelation, a wave of nausea washed over you, twisting your stomach into knots. You were an awful, sad excuse of a fucking human.

Clapton's large hand suddenly resting on your shoulder grounded you, just slightly. “Hey, it’s okay.”

You looked up at him, your heart racing and your palms trembling ever so slightly. “You’re not mad?”

Clapton laughs, almost bitterly. “I mean- I was. But I’m just- disappointed mostly. I know how much you love- loved Mike, but did it have to be me?”

You clenched your jaw together and looked away, eyes focused on the world outside. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. As you shifted your focus back to him, you were drawn into the depths of his warm, brown eyes. You searched for an ounce of understanding.

“It’s… I get it.” Despite the disappointment and betrayal you saw deep in his irises, he still smiled. Clapton was always like that. He had always hidden how he truly felt behind sickly sweet words. “I still want to be friends.” Even with his lie about understanding what you did, you could see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice; he was sincere about being your friend. You felt relieved that he valued your friendship as much as you did his.

“I’d like that.” 

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You were completely drained, every ounce of energy drained from your body. Having two heart-to-hearts with the most important people in your life weighed on you immensely. For now, all you wanted to do was sleep. You wanted desperately for your life to go back to normal, before Mike lied to you, before you almost wrecked your relationship with Clapton. Back when times were simple.

Despite the turmoil in your heart, a part of you was still glad. There was still hope with Mike. But, did you want there to be? The haunting doubts nagged at you: What if he lied to you again? What if he shuts down, reinforcing those walls that had torn you apart? The uncertainty tightened its grip, leaving you torn between yearning and fear.

Could you still love him after what happened? Did he still love you?

Even with the countless questions racing through your head, exhaustion took hold, and your heavy eyelids finally surrendered. For the first time in weeks, a rare calm washed over you, finally granting you a peaceful sleep.

tiktok may be gone but at least I still have THE Jhutch edit.

So, I wasn’t going to post this until i was done the fic but I’ve lost all motivation so here’s a blurb of “We are never, ever getting back together” PT 3

(this is so ass)

I love dropping off the face of the earth and posting every once in a while when a new hyperfixation pops up.

Here’s a PSA relating to my main blog as well:

I’m genuinely so sorry for leaving you all with a cliffhanger on my series, and being inactive for so long. I am so grateful for all of you who have read and enjoyed my writing. It’s genuinely my dream to have people read my stories.

Recently, i’ve been extremely uninspired (and as i’ve said above, i’ve been busy as well), and I can’t seem to write anymore.

This is not me saying you guys will never see a part 3 of my series, since there definitely could be. It just won’t be for a while. This is a BIG maybe, but I might put out a oneshot or two once in a while.

Again, i’m so sorry for promising you guys something without delivering. I really am so greatful for you guys!

Another Billy PSA!

Hey guys!

I know you guys have probably been wondering where i’ve been. (if you’re not jn the Jhutch discord server.)

I work as a counselor at a camp, meaning from 7-5 i’m working with little 4 year olds. It’s pretty exhausting so I just don’t have as much time for social media as I used to.

This account will NOT be deleted, and I might come back to be active every once and awhile. Once the summer ends, or I get used to my new work routine things will most likely be back to normal. (I know you guys probably miss billy and his gayness, so I will try my best to do this.)

Again, my activity might go back to normal eventually, so please be patient with me!

Are you gonna write a part 3 for we are never getting back together?

I’m genuinely so sorry but i’ve had severe writers block for a long time.

I’m trying to throw together a little smut one shot right now 😞.

Hopefully when I’m less busy during the summer i’ll get the next chapter out.

Clapton and Wally give off the same exact vibes

i’ve been making crazy references recently but josh’s hair is giving Ca$h from heart break high 😭💔

this is such a weird reference but:

i need josh to recreate this one clip of andrew garfield whimpering

i love his giggle after Wallace mentions sex workers

Ofc claptons hot but can we talk about his teacher??

I genuinely cannot comprehend when people say they don’t find Josh Hutcherson attractive. Yeah, everyone has different types. But oh my fucking god??

He’s so cute, hot, handsome and fine all at the same time. I could stare at this man for HOURS straight and i’d love every minute.

This man lives in my head every second of every day, and I hope he never leaves.

someone NEEDS to make a Sean account

he’s the only one we’re missing ☹️☹️

watch tiktok for hours straight ✅

write multiple derek smuts and a sean smut ✅

binge true crime ✅

rewatch school spirits and thanksgiving ✅

reread the hunger games for the 50th time ✅

make 5 shitposts a day ✅

actually write the 3rd chapter of my series ❌

(I’m actually so sorry guys i’ll try to finish it by the weekend…im the biggest procrastinator i’ve ever met)

if tiktok gets banned i will actually sob

i’m going to lose my 2,000+ josh edit folder 🙁🙏

i love getting notifications from tumblr

i’ll be scrolling on tiktok and i’ll get a notification saying “joshhutchersonsbutthole liked your post”

I have so many of Joshes movies to watch 🙁

If anyone has any recommendations i’ll add them to the list 🙏🙏

I love seeing the entire jhutch tumblr community go through little phases of his characters

First it was Mike, then Derek and now it’s Vinnie (i can take all of them at once !!!)

When I was younger I was obsessed with the hunger games.

Every time I re-read the books or re-binged the movies I always HATED gale and I never knew why.

(i want him to rail me !!)

Intro/Masterlist

About me: 

❥  Hi, I’m Lucy! I’m 20 years old, and my pronouns are she/her. I’m helplessly in love with Josh Hutcherson and Milo Manheim.

❥  I’m not exactly new to fan fiction writing, but i’ve never ever posted my works until I made this account. Ever since I started writing fics, it’s been my dream to have other people read and enjoy my work, so every comment and repost means the world to me!

❥ Also, please feel free to leave me any questions or requests! I’d love to write out your guys ideas.

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Who i’ll write for:

Josh’s characters: Clapton, Mike, Derek, Sean, Futturman, Billy and maybe Peeta

Milo’s characters: Ryan, Wally, Zed, Nico (This is mainly a Jhutch account, but I also have some Milo fan followers.)

(I have over 20 celeb crushes but I’m trying to keep this account to my two main ones…)

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Things I WILL write: 

• Smut, fluff, angst, oneshots

Things I WONT write:

• extreme/downright nasty kinks or fetishes 

• immoral/illegal kinks

• I will not write for real people. It’s just something I feel uncomfortable doing.

I’ve only written for female characters, but I am 100% open to writing gender nuteral and male characters! 

My works

Mike Schmidt 

We are never, ever getting back together. (18+)

Summary: You moved houses and jobs just to get away from Mike after he abandoned you and your 6-year relationship. But, one day he shows up in the vacant apartment next to yours. You quickly make it your mission to make every night a living hell for him with the (unknowing) help of your old high school fling.

WC: 8.2k (so far)

type: fluff/smut/angst, fem!reader

pt 1 pt2 pt 3

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Clapton Davis

We are never, ever getting back together. (18+)

type: smut, fem!reader

(first chapter only)

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Teenage dream

Summary: You have a crush on your best friend, Clapton, and soon he finds out. (request)

WC: 1k

type: fluff, male!reader

Read here

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Derek Danforth

Bad idea, right? (18+)

Summary: You drunkenly bump into Derek at one of his parties.

WC: 2.5k

type: smut, fem!reader

Read here