just so you guys know i am publishing these things so you know you can make requests

The Reader and the Writer (Part 4)

Originally posted by jugheadly

Part one here    Part two here    Part three here

Anon requests: Please tell me there’s going to be a part 4 to The Reader and the Writer. Its amazing!!



Can you do a part four to reader and the writer?

PART 4 to reader and the writer omh it’s amazing

Pairing: Jughead x Reader

Description: A part in which we get to read what the writer has written, and we learn what happens to both the reader and the writer.

Warnings: none

Word count: 1,206

A/N: ok so this is gonna be a bit choppy at first because we’re just taking glimpses of Jughead’s writing, but bear with me here. I hope you guys like this part, enjoy!

Jason’s death had been announced a week ago.  Our small town was buzzing with the news, and right when things couldn’t get any more puzzling, a new girl arrived in Riverdale.  A new mystery to be solved.

She entered Pop’s for only a minute, and I heard an unfamiliar last name.  Is she involved in Jason’s murder?  Probably not, but strangers are always a good plot twist.

Three days later, I found this mystery in my booth reading Wuthering Heights.  Normally, I would kick her out, but because of my undying curiosity, I let her stay.  Maybe with her sitting across from me, I could learn where she fits in the story of Riverdale.  I had an enigma sitting right across from me and I didn’t even know it yet.

(Y/N).  Her name is (Y/N).

It’s difficult to notice because of her constant reading, but her eyes are like stained glass, tinting the morning light in a church.

She has a new book almost every day.  Today it was Emma

We haven’t spoken in three days.  She’s here, I’m here, but we haven’t spoken.  Although I crave to hear her voice, somehow I’m satisfied by this comforting silence.

Today it was To Kill a Mockingbird.  She asked if I read it, to which I replied yes.  I thought she’d begin a discussion, talk about the ghosts that occupied the small southern town, or the unjust prejudice people carry.  Instead, she smiled, nodded, and turned back to her book.

“Good,” she muttered under her breath.  I smiled.

What makes a person do foolish things?  Is it because of the flawed spontaneity of humans?  Or is it because maybe they were trying to impress someone?  I read A Tale of Two Cities last night.  As I read through the dull writing, I asked myself why I was reading literature that did not interest me.  I could not answer my own questions; all I know is that the next night in Pop’s, I subtly quoted the book during a conversation with (Y/N).  She was smiling for the rest of the night, and so was I.

I tried to tell her about my book.  She started talking about The English Patient.

When two worlds collide, do you praise the workers of fate for taking two dearly loved universes and combining them into one, or do you curse the forces of nature for creating such an impact?  Betty and Veronica met (Y/N), and a week later, so did Archie.

She was reading Macbeth that night. Our silence was comforting, but I wanted to talk to her more. I offered for her to help me with my book.  I wanted her to be a part of something that was important to me.  She refused and stormed out of the diner.  I didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time I saw (Y/N) (Y/L/N) in that light ever again.

After extensive research, I came to a shocking conclusion: (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is not a girl living in Riverdale in the 21st century. She is a writer from the 1700s, with four published works.  She is not the girl who has been sitting across from me in my booth for months.

One day after the truth: she isn’t here.  I called her, but she didn’t pick up.

Two days after our argument: I am in this booth alone.  I called her again.

Three days after she was reading Macbeth: she probably finished the book by now, but I wouldn’t know.  She isn’t here, and she still isn’t answering her phone.

It’s been a week.  She hasn’t returned, and my calls always go to voicemail.

Two weeks: Archie asked what’s wrong with me.  I said nothing, but my eyes didn’t leave the entrance of the diner. She didn’t come.

Three weeks later and Veronica and Betty checked on me.  They blabbered about what could be wrong, why I was brooding more than usual.  I didn’t reply, but my head perked up when they mentioned (Y/N).  They noticed.

She’s here.

She was born in Riverdale.

And so, a little light shined on the dark mystery of Riverdale’s (Y/N) (Y/L/N) like the calm before the storm.  The writer becomes the reader, the reader becomes the read. I found myself hooked on her just from a little information, like a drug addict craving his fix.  New girls can never hide in a small town like Riverdale, but God, I knew (Y/N), in all her enigmatic splendor, would lurk in the shadows of this town for as long as she possibly could.

As soon as she walked out of Pop’s that night, I told myself she would never return.  I told myself that she would probably leave Riverdale for good, and it’d be all because of me.  But lo and behold, 24 hours later, a familiar face entered my booth.

What is her name?

We haven’t spoken in two weeks; she’s still here, but we don’t talk.  Her real name remains a mystery to me.

A name. Everything is given a name, but a name does not define anything.  We call the number two so that we can define a value, but we could call two a horse and it would still have the same value.  I refer to (Y/N) as (Y/N), because that is the girl who sat across my booth.  That is the girl who I spent months developing a relationship with, and that is the girl I grew to love.

She told me her real name.  She said it with tears blurring her vision and a trembling lip, and when she choked it out I moved next to her and held her as she cried.  I enveloped her in a hug and I held her as all the sadness that she carried with her spilled out, and once it was all out of her system I wiped away her tears.  I kept holding her.  With a shaky voice she asked me why I was still there, why hadn’t I left?  I replied that I could never leave her. After all, I called her every night she was gone.

Then I told her I love her.

And she smiled, because I think deep down she knew.  She kissed me so softly, it felt like my lips were brushing up against flower petals.  I knew that was her way of telling me she loves me too.  We broke apart and I stared into her stained-glass eyes, and I remembered how it felt looking into them for the first time.  But this time was different.  Because now I knew the story behind those eyes, now I knew what those eyes have seen, and now I knew what emotions those eyes hid.

Now I know.

I whispered in her ear, my lips barely brushing against her skin, and told her I would call her by the name I knew her by.  I would call her (Y/N) (Y/L/N) because that is the girl I fell in love with, and that is the girl I want to continue to love.  She was no longer the enigma sitting across from me, nor was she the strange new girl in Riverdale.

Her name is (Y/N), and she is the girl I love.

“How do you get this thing off?”

Originally posted by hot-as-f

Written by Christina

Category: Fluff (lol no smut. Despite gif and title, no smut involved)

Word Count: 1177

Request: A Could you please write an imagine where Peter sneaks into his girlfriend’s house by climbing up her window? I love your works! :) Requested by anonymous

A/N: First of all, thanks for liking our work! I’m glad that you enjoy it! Secondly, I am so glad that I get to use this gif. Thirdly (that’s a word, right?…), I’m currently obsessed Twenty One Pilots, so that’s why there’s a little reference at the end. Enjoy! Sorry, it took so long for us to come up with something! We will get more fics published and knock out those requests you guys sent us! 

It was 2 a.m. when you heard a great thud in your apartment. You pulled your earbuds out of your ears and wiped the tears that dripped onto your cheeks. Why, oh why, did writers have to put sad music with such an intense chapter? It made the experience horrible; lots of crying, squealing, squeaking, and just a lot of emotions. You hated when authors did that. You stood up from your nest of blankets, trying to stay quiet as you heard another thud. You gulped as fear rose within you. Hopefully, no one broke into your house… You tried to push away the worst-case scenarios that developed, but with your recent ‘feels’ overload, the scenes plagued your mind as you slowly padded across your bedroom floor to the door, cautiously cracking it open. You heard a muffled swear word followed by another thud, and this time, a crash. You would recognize that voice anywhere. Your fear abandoned, you darted down the hall and into your kitchen, following the commotion.

Just like you thought, Peter stood in your kitchen. He was trying to get his Stark-ified Spider-Man suit off, but he was failing miserably; his head was stuck in one of the arm holes and somehow a leg was stuck in the neck opening, making him frequently lose his balance and crash into some leftover pot or pan that resulted from you making dinner. You bit back a strong giggle and crossed your arms, leaning against the countertop, observing as Peter finally managed to get his leg and head into the proper places of the suit. His curly brown hair was frizzy and sticking every which way. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were parted with exertion, his muscled chest heaving with each breath he took. He stood there for a few moments, examining the suit, trying to figure out how to get it off. Suddenly, he started to pull his arm out of the sleeve, his face contorting as he pulled the sleeve. His strength bested him and the suit ripped, causing Peter to stumble backward, landing on his butt on your kitchen floor. He closed eyes and swore again, thumping his torso onto the ground, laying spread eagle in exhaustion and frustration.

“I must say,” You finally spoke up, unable to hide your giggles any longer, “That was very entertaining. You should quit the superhero business and become a mime or something.” At the sound of your voice, Peter’s head shot up, his lips parted in shock and cheeks flushing a deep maroon from embarrassment.

“Why don’t you try getting this stupid suit off!” Peter bickered, sitting up and holding his arms up like a little kid waiting for his mom to help him get undressed.

“Peter, if you wanted me to undress you, there’s much smoother ways to do that,” You quipped, walking over to him and kneeling behind him, trying to find some sort of zipper on the back. Peter stiffened at your remark and quivered at your touch.

“Th-th-th-th-th-that’s n-not what I meant,” Peter stammered, his voice quiet. You smiled and chuckled.

“I know, Peter. I’m just teasing,” You said, running your hands around his back, failing to find a zipper. “I can’t find a zipper or anything.” You moved your hands from his back to his sides, examining for something on the sides. Nothing. You shifted your body so you faced Peter. You ran your eyes down the front of the suit, then placed your hands on his chest, trying not to get distracted with the way you can feel his heart pounding and how his abdominal muscles quivered when you brushed your fingers over them. You bit your lip and sighed. No zipper in the front either.

“Nothing. How do you get this thing off?” You mumbled, trying to see if you missed anything. You shifted your eyes to Peter’s face, your gaze locking as he stared at you. “What?” You asked, not quite understanding why he was looking at you the way he was.

“N-nothing,” Peter stuttered quietly, his gaze still fixed on yours. “You’re just the most amazing person I know…” Peter’s voice got softer and huskier. He reached his hands up to your neck, gently pulling you towards him as he kissed you, softly sweetly. You smiled and kissed him back, placing a hand on his chest to admire his muscles. You ran your hand over his pecs, and soon, your hand felt the smooth, hard Spider-Man emblem on his chest. You heard an odd whirring sound and Peter gasped, making you pull away. You glanced at Peter as he stared at you wide-eyed. His chest and stomach were now exposed, his Spider-Man suit hanging loosely off his torso.

“C-c-c-cold,” Peter stuttered, his teeth chattering and muscles taut as he shivered at the sudden exposure to the cool mid-morning air. You giggled and gave him a gentle peck.

“I-I-I-I-I half expected the suit to go back on again,” Peter said in wonder. “So every time you kiss me, the suit comes off, wouldn’t it be when you kissed me, the suit goes on?” You stared at Peter, scoffing lightly, as his confused logic. It seemed like the suit came off when you touched the logo on his chest, and you knew Peter would figure it out eventually, but it was way too entertaining to be the smart one, for once. He got the suit on, surely he would be able to get it off. Hopefully without your help.

“Yes, Peter,” You responded, leaning on the counter, “Mr. Stark developed a suit that only came on and off when someone kissed you. If that was the case, how did you get it on in the first place? I’m sure Wade would have loved to-”

“Oh please please please please stop, “ Peter begged, standing up, letting his suit crumple to the ground. You raised a brow in response, waiting for him to admit he was wrong. “I get it. That’s not how the suit comes off.” You smiled and motioned over your shoulder, toward your bedroom.

“I’m gonna go back to bed. I was in the middle of reading when you started making a mess,” You said, yawning as you spoke.

“Y-yeah!” Peter said with polite enthusiasm. You smirked and turned away from him, trudging back to your room when Peter appeared next to you, slipping an arm around your shoulder. “What are you reading?” You flushed a little, avoiding eye contact and the question as the two of you reached your room and slipped into your bed. You rested your head on Peter’s shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you. You grabbed your phone and placed one earbud in your ear and opened your phone, revealing the story.

“Seriously, Y/N? You’re reading fanfiction?” Peter asked astoundingly.

“Don’t judge me, Peter,” You barked, your eyes glued to your phone, you tapped the play button in the app, letting the music play as you began to read the next chapter.

“Josh Dun?” Peter asked, reading over your shoulder, “Isn’t that the drummer-”

“Shut up, Peter, let me read.”

Tag List 
























Behind The Mask

Matt Murdock/ Reader

Originally posted by arabellawrites

Words: 1.570

Summary: So what if you have a crush on the vigilante Daredevil? It’s not like he knows you personally.

Request: Can I please request a Matt/reader where they are friends but she doesn’t know yet that Matt is Daredevil, and one day they start talking about DD and Foggy starts bugging her about “having a crush on the Devil”(and she doesn’t deny it). And later on, Matt makes a move as Daredevil and drops a hint or two of who he really is?? Thankyou :)

Tagging: @kwaiky

Requested by: @iamthemaskhewears

Author’s note: im glad to see that daredevil fans aint dead. did a slight twist to the prompt

You take a long hard look at the photo plastered on the front page of the newspaper- a reported photo of the vigilante Daredevil elaborately leaping to a nearby building. The identity of his true self is unknown and the mystery surrounding him makes you want to know more about this infamous vigilante.

“Really, Y/N? Again with the newspaper?” Foggy’s voice comes from behind, making you grin at what he might say next.

“Next thing I know, you have a shrine of Daredevil in your closet.” He places a mug of hot coffee on the coaster next to you.

Keep reading

The moonlight | Jughead x Reader

Request: “a jughead x reader imagine where the reader can’t sleep and they cuddle? fluff please!!“ by @ xxcalignosityxx

Summary: Sleepless nights is the worst.Only you, your thought, and the moonlight, but Jughead is always there and this make them better.

Words: 651

Warnings: Fluff, humor, mention of past abuse (I’m starting to question my ability to write pure fluff, sorry)

A/N(IMPORTANT): I didn’t expect that so many of you will like the 3rd part of I don’t remember (I know that I say that every time, but that is only because I’m still really shocked and grateful). This story should be published yesterday, before the new episode (Riverdale is an American tv show, and I have six hours of the time difference with you guys, so I always schedule them to publish around 4/5 PM ENT. (I don’t know, If that time is okay with you guys, so please give me some feedback), but something didn’t work right, sorry. Many of you asked about the 4th part of I don’t remember - I’m in the middle of writing it, so will probably publish it on Sunday. Now the important part: I have dyslexia so forgive me for my grammar, because I’m trying to write correctly, but it does not always work. So I’m sorry again.

Send me your requests (I can do different characters not only Jughead), asks, feedback. Message me if you want. Don’t be afraid, I don’t bite! 

(This episode gave me excellent gifs - originally by @ sunshine-cactus, but I edited them so they fit into the story)

The silver of moonlight slid in through the crack between the curtains and spilled onto Jughead’s face and shoulders. Wavy chocolate hair was spread around his head. Soft, warm breath puffed from his lungs. His soft features, blurred at the edges with a silver glow, forehead and chin and jawline rendered in soft shadow. I closed my eyes again and tried to felt asleep. For the first time, I was the one that couldn’t sleep. I was curious what time it was, but I forced myself not to move. I didn’t want to wake Jughead up.

Jughead’s past wasn’t perfect. He had a difficult childhood. And now, even after so many years, sometimes, he was afraid to close his eyes. He never admired that. He didn’t have to. I knew him too well to understand why every day, when he waked up he checked, with his eyes closed, if I was lying next to him and when he was sure that it’s not a dream, then and only then he opened his eyes. Sometimes I felt that he checked if I am here, also, in the middle of the night. Light touch of fingertips on my cheek or hand. The sight of relief and then his breath slowed down, and he felt asleep again.

“You can’t sleep?” Jughead voice wasn’t sleepy. He was fully awake. I was angry at myself. Probably my leg twitched, or the rhythm of my breath changed. The light sleep let Jughead survive when he was little. Something happened, he needed to took Jellybean and find some safe place. I felt that I had tears in my eyes.

“Hey (Y/N), what happened?”, he asked worriedly

"I wake you up.”

“It’s nothing. Don’t be ridiculous” Jughead pulled me gently, he softly pressed his lips to mine, then he moved away but only for a few centimeters, so our lips were almost touching. He wiped my tears with his finger. I put my hand in his hair.

“You should wear them like that more often.”

“By "like that” you mean my bed hair, which is so tangled that using a comb tomorrow will be a really challenge?“
I laughed.

"I mean without the hat” I rolled my eyes. We were both smiling when Jug kissed me again.

“I will think about that, but you know I really like my beanie”

“Yes I know, and sometimes I get jealous that you will live me for it” I teased and he laughed

“Never” our forehead teased and I looked into his blue-greenish eyes. “(Y/N)(Y/L/N) I will never, ever leave you.”

“I hope so,” I said, and I put my head on his chest. He put his head on my forehead and hugged me. He started to draw little circles on my back with his finger. I took his hand and I interlaced my fingers with his. “Our hands are looking magic in the moonlight so light.” I though, when silver light spilled onto them.

“It’s unrealistic” Jughead mumbled in my hair like he was reading my mind.

“Our hands?”

“Everything, you and me, this flat, this bed… Everything”

“It’s real” I turned my head, so I could see him “It always was and it always will be real.”
He smiled lightly, but the smile didn’t include his eyes. He wasn’t sure, probably he never will be.

“What were you thinking about? Before?”

“Before what?”  I teased

“I waked up” he rolled his eyes


“Um? "Things”?“ He raised the eyebrow smile turned into the smirk.

"Not like that! Just things”  I snuggled my head into his chest. I heard his calmed heartbeat.

He hugged harder. The warm from his body made me sleepy. My eyelids started to feel heavy. I yawned.

“I love you (Y/N)”

“I love you to Jug.”

What Do YOU Want? Pt. 10

A Kwon Jiyong series ft. Kim Jiwon

Genre: Angst/Fluff *******VERY light smut

Word count: 4,500+

Summary: The most important person in the world to you can appear most often when you least expect it. But through everything, you can’t forget about you and your own happiness. Who are you happy with? Who is the best for you?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 

(A/N: All right we’re not even going to comment on the word count anymore. I thoroughly enjoyed writing this part and hope you all enjoy reading it!)

Originally posted by selva3bd

You were grateful for Bobby’s patience as you sat in silence, unable to reply to him as your anxious mind attempted to process everything that happened in the last ten minutes. Jiyong and you had been in the same room for the first time in well over six months and only one of you knew this; the same one that remained sat in a fetal position on the ground, limbs trembling beneath a wave of uncertainty. The way he spoke about you with Bobby had your head spinning.

You needed answers.

With a deep breath, you closed your eyes and attempted to preserve your sanity amongst the chaos. “Well, I’m ready to hear it if you’re ready to tell it.”

Keep reading

How You Two Meet (5 Seconds of Summer Blurb)

Summary:  How you and one of the boys of 5 Seconds of Summer meet, and he posts about you.

Requested: no

Warnings: no

A/N:  I got this idea based off of looking at the boys instagrams.  These will be based off either a photo or the themes of each of the boys’s instagrams.  This may not be my best work, as I am just recovering from surgery, and I’m in a lot of pain, and my mind is a little foggy.  I apologize if it’s not the best, but I just needed something to distract from the pain.

Disclaimer: None of these photos are mine, some are off their instagrams or off google images.

Ashton:  Writing Session

“So guys, I have someone new that I would all like you to meet, Y/N Y/L/N.”  John introduces you to all the boys.

“Hi, Y/N.”  The boys all say in unison, almost like you’re the new substitute teacher and they are your class.

“Today, you and Ashton”  John says motioning over to a boy with the polaroid camera, “will be writing together.  I’d say work on the chorus on the song we were close to finishing yesterday.”

Ashton, claps his hand together, then pushes himself up and walks you over to the door, and opens it for you to walk out first.  Ashton guides you into the other recording room.

Ashton walks over to one of the guitars, and sits down in front of you.

“So, here is a part of the song we finished yesterday, but I still can’t figure out the chorus and the bridge.”  Ashton says before he starts playing the guitar and singing.

As Ashton plays and sings, you notice just how he gets into the music.  You notice at times during the song, he closes his eyes, and there is a crease between his eyebrows in the front of head when the times of when he can’t think of what comes next.

“Try the g then to the e minor.”  You say after Ashton kept pausing at the same part in the song.

After Ashton tries that, he says, “That works out perfectly.  And after the e minor, change to the c chord.”

“After the C, change to an a minor…”  You say.  After figuring out the bridge, the chorus came easy to both of you.

After figuring out the chorus, and the bridge, you both had finished the song.

“So, we have about a half and hour to spare our writing session is over and we meet the rest of the guys.  There is this sandwich truck right outside the studio, it makes the best sandwiches, you want to grab some while we wait around for the rest of the guys to finish?”  Ashton offers.

“Yeah, sure.”  You say smiling.  

When you and Ashton get back, Ashton asks Michael to take a polaroid of you two in the studio.  He says that “we always take photos with people we work with”.  You didn’t think much of it, until later that day you find that you were tagged in one of Ashton’s photo with the caption, “Best partner for writing, I just wish @michaelclifford knew how to actually take a photo without cutting her head off, lol”

Calum:  At the Club

You had been in LA to visit a friend, and she convinced you to go to a pre game with her, before you guys went out clubbing.  You’re a social person, but you’re not much of a “hardcore partier”, so like always, you were the designated driver, or the friend holding back your other friend’s hair at the end of the night.  The pre game wasn’t too bad, you ended up meeting some really good people, and was looking forward to the rest of the night.  
When you arrive to the club, you are immediately dragged onto the dance floor by your best friend.  You love dancing, so you were out there most of the night.  After your feet started to hurt, you and your friends decided to sit at the bar, to cool off for a bit.  

“Here’s a drink from the gentlemen over there.”  The bartender says handing you a drink, pointing over to a tall, and handsome young man.  

You wave politely, but you don’t drink the drink.  After a few minutes, you hear someone behind you ask, “Did you not enjoy it?”  

You turn around to see the boy that ordered the drink.

“Oh no, I mean actually, I wouldn’t know.  I don’t drink.”  You admit.

“Oh, well that puts a twist into my plan.”  He says rubbing the back of his neck.

“Plan?”  You ask raising your eyebrows.

“Yes, well”  He says taking a seat down next to you, “ I would send over you a drink, then that would give me an excuse to come over here to talk to you.”

“Okay, and then what would happen next?”  You ask putting your head in your hands looking at him with a smirk.

“Well then, I would compliment you on your dancing, and wait until a really good song would come on, and then I would get you up to dance.”  

“Pretty solid plan.”  You nod. “Now, mister man with a plan, when were you ever going to plan on giving me your name?”  You ask, laughing lightly.

“Calum.”  He says smiling, putting his hand out for you to shake.

“Y/N.”  You say shaking his hand.  “Now, Calum, would you like to dance with me?”  You offer standing up.

“Hell yeah.”  He says.

After a night of dancing, and laughing, and just a great time, you and Calum end up taking a photo together, and exchange each of your information.  

The next day, your phone is blowing up with notifications, and comments on instagram.  You recognize the picture or you and Calum, in which he posted on his account captioning the photo

“I thought I partied hard, until I met this one, and the only thing she had was water.”

Luke: On Vacation in Bali

“Girls vacay here we are!”  You best friend screams as you guys get to the resort in Bali.

“It’s so gorgeous.”  You comment looking at the infinity pool, and how blue the water is.  

“I know.  Now, let’s get settled in, and change into our bikinis, so we can get into the water, because I am warm.”  You other friend says fanning herself.

After figuring out who gets which room, and unpacking everything, all of you change into your bikinis, and go out into the pool.  It wasn’t until about fifteen minutes after getting in, that a group of guys the same age as you all joined you guys.  You and your friends didn’t mind them too much because they weren’t jerks, and they weren’t bad to look at.  You and the blonde haired, blue eyed one kept making eye contact with each other.

After a while, the boys and your friends began to talk, and all of you started to become friends.  You ended up learning that the guy you kept looking at was named Luke.   You and Luke became very friendly as time went on.  He would flirtingly poke fun at you, in which you would respond by splashing him, and that just turned into a splashing war.  

As the vacation went on, your friends and the guys were all together most of the time, and your friends would pair off with Luke’s friends.  On the last day, you asked Luke if you could take a photo of you and your best friend on the infinity pool at you two are “looking out over Bali.”

You never really thought much about you and Luke after the vacation was over.  You thought of it just as a friendly fling that lasted for a week and a half on vacation.  But when you got home, you noticed a follow request from Luke.  You obviously accepted, and noticed he posted a photo and tagged you, your friend, and Michael in it, captioning it,

“Who did it better?”

Michael:  You Are His Photographer

You and the photographer for the Sounds Live Feels Live tour are pretty good friends, and when you told him that you were thinking of taking the plunge and moving to LA, and offered for you to stay with him, and that he would help you get many different shoots as he could.

The first shoot that he gets you is with Michael Clifford from 5 Seconds of Summer.  Your friend kept telling you how great of a guy he is, and that the photos won’t be professionally published, but they will be posted on his social media accounts, which will give you more exposure.

You and Michael have been in contact over the phone before, but never actually met.  You both decided that the beach would be a perfect place to shoot, and both agreed to meet there at sunset.  You get there, Michael is sitting there looking relaxed on a bench looking over at the ocean.  You slowly lift up your camera, and take the shot.

“You must be Y/N.”  Michael says, turning his to the direction of the shuttering of the camera lens.  “Or at least I hope so, if not, some random stranger with a good camera just took an awesome shot of me.”  He says laughing, getting up to walk over to you.

“I’m Michael.”  He says reaching out his hand, in which you take it and respond, “And I’m Y/N, as you know.”  You say laughing.

“So, where would you like me to go first?”  He asks.

“How about”  You begin as you think, “Lean against the rail, and look out in the distance at something.”

Michael does as he’s instructed, and the shoot went on smoothly and quickly.  After, you invited Michael over to the place you are staying at, so you can edit the photos, and you could send him his favorite ones.  

“I like this one.”  He says, pointing at the one where he is leaning against the railing.

“Me too.” You agree.

After a little bit of editing, Michael posted it with the caption, “Beach gothin’”  and gave credit for the photo.

A/N:  I apologize if this isn’t my best work.  I am currently recovering from surgery, and I’m in a lot of pain, but I wanted to start the blurb series, and since I’m on bed rest, I thought it would be a perfect time to.  Requests are open, I should be well soon!  I hope you all have a lovely weekend!

Guinevere-Kingsman Imagine

Requested; No

Warnings: some sensuality, and violence

A/N: Rewatching Big Little Lies inspired this story and I promise after this, I will start publishing the requests! 

Originally posted by egertontarons

  The low sound of the current football match along with a few shouted curses filled the small London apartment. It was a normal Friday night: Marcus was probably upset that Manchester was losing and would undoubtedly want to throw around his beers, a table lamp, and kick around the TV table. Then, he was going to want to take his anger out on his mousy girlfriend, Liliana, because something she had not done right was the reason his team lost. He would come storming into the bedroom and yank her from the windowsill by the hair at the nape of her neck, not caring that the cigarette she had been smoking would ruin the carpet—-all the more reason the crow deserved this beating. 

   That’s what I was counting on as I sat in the windowsill, overlooking the squalid dark streets of Brixton. I took a long drag of my cigarette before blowing the smoke into the air. It was a cool London night and there was only mugging after mugging after rape occurring in the streets. Of course, I had seen worse but it was gross to know how many horrid things were happening in my own city.

    Something smashed in the living room.

   “LILIANA, COME OUT HERE YOU BITCH!” Marcus screamed.

   “Show time,” I muttered.

   I waited patiently until Marcus stumbled into the doorway. He wasn’t a tall guy at one hundred and seventy two centimeters but he had to be at least twelve stone. He stunk of beer and a cheap TV dinner and he wore a dirty wife beater and boxers. He staggered over to me and just when we reached for my hair, I turned and jabbed the butt of my cigarette into his face. He screamed and lunged for me, but I grabbed his hand, using the vulnerability to kick him in the chest. He landed on the floor and his bloodshot hazel eyes filled with terror.

   “Who the f-ck are you? Where’s Liliana?” he demanded.

   “Liliana is in a safe space far, far away from you,” I said. “As for me, I’m the woman who’s going to make you wish you never laid a hand on Liliana.”

   He tried to defend himself, but it was useless as I duct taped his hand above his head and duct taped his mouth shut. Then, I proceeded to exact the revenge Liliana wasn’t able to give herself. When I was finished, I was sure that Marcus would never lay a hand on any other woman again.

   I quietly slipped out of the front door and back into the cool London air. The estate Marcus lived in was filled with promiscuous couples as well as people in screaming matches, so no one would pay any mind to me. I pulled my cell phone out of my jacket pocket and called Liliana.

   “Miss Stone?” Liliana’s voice sounded panicked, which was normal with most of my clients.

   “It’s taken care of, you will never have to worry about Marcus Smith again,” I said.

   “Thank you, thank you so much. How will I pay you?”

   “It’s been handled already.”

   I hung up and shoved the phone back in my jacket pocket. Though I did have some adrenaline still running after my session with Marcus, I still felt unsatisfied. Marcus was only one scumbag, but what about the other men beating women senseless?

   I flexed my sore knuckles and groaned before jogging down the steps and leaving the estate. As I started heading to the bus stop, I passed by a tall, athletic man wearing a charcoal gray suit with a black tie and matching patent leather oxford. His light brown hair was combed back, out of his pale, strong face that was framed with thick black glasses.

   “Impressive, Miss Stone,” he said.

   I paused for a split second. “I don’t know what you are talking about. You must have me confused with someone else.”

   “Isn’t that what you’re calling yourself these days? Miss Stone.” He stepped closer to me as I turned to face him. “It’s amazing that it took you only two hours to get Liliana Wood away from that wanker, but it took you thirty minutes to handle him yourself. Used to take you ten from what I remember, you’re slacking now.”

   I swallowed thickly and narrowed my eyes at the man. “Whoever you think I am, you must be confused.”

   “Who could ever forget you Guinevere?” he asked.

   I stiffened at the old code name. “You will want to be more covert when you canvass for former agents; I made you ages ago. If you excuse me, I’ve had a long day and I’d like to go home now.”

  “You left because you wanted to rest, right?”

  This kid was persistent, I had to give him that.


  “If that were true, you would’ve taken a simple desk job, worked at a cafe, or stopped working altogether. Instead, you are a hitwoman for abused women, a noble profession indeed but requires little to no rest at all.”

  I sighed. “I got used to the line of work, so what?”

  “Merlin and I need your specific skill set to help us and the rest of the world as we know it,” he said. “No one else has quite the combat skills like you do.” 

  “I am sorry…”


   “…Galahad but Kingsman are more concerned with helping people on a global scale, not a local one. As much as I enjoyed working with the service, there were too many evils we weren’t fighting at home. Hopefully, another agent will be able to help you.”

   I sighed and started walking to the bus stop again, willing away all the faces of men and women that I had beaten to death while interrogating them or looking at the faces of people I hadn’t saved.

   I would definitely need a glass of wine later.

   “Miss Stone,” I turned again to see Galahad walking towards me, “perhaps I can persuade you.”

   “Galahad, you’ve already tried but—”

   He cut me off with a kiss. It wasn’t passionate or anything, but it was quite steamy and I would’ve shoved him away if I wasn’t surprised. However, when he pulled away everything went fuzzy before turning black.

    “…Guinevere, are you all right? Guinevere!” Merlin’s eyes were narrowed at me when I blinked them open.

    I glanced around and saw that I was sitting in a chair in the old tailor shop, surrounded by the different high tech gadgets disguised as haberdashery. In front of me was Merlin, wearing his usual gray sweater vest, along with Galahad, who looked a little anxious.

    “What…what happened?” I muttered.

    Merlin straightened up. “Eggsy used a solvent disguised as a lip balm on his lips that was laced with chloroform.”

   “Eggsy?” I glanced at the handsome young boy standing at the front. “That’s your name?”

   “Yeah, what, got a problem with it?”

   “No, not at all. It’s different, I will say that.” I leaned back into the chair. “You must be extremely desperate to be talking to me.”

   “Not desperate at all, Y/N. No other Kingsman agent has measured up to you in hand to hand combat or in handling weapons. We have a greater threat that attacked our headquarters,” Merlin said. “If we are going to take them down, we need you on our side.” 

     I glanced at Eggsy again and he shifted. He knew it was risky drugging me of all people. However, it was for a good cause and I had always been loyal to Kingsman.

   “You haven’t said anything that really convinces me to join.”

   “If you do this, you can leave, for good.”

   “Do you really have that power, Merlin?” 

   Merlin’s mouth went into a straight line. “Because for the time being, I am also acting as Arthur.”

   “Fine, and I also want to be paid accordingly whenever you can scrounge something up.” I flexed my sore hands again. “May I leave now?”

   “Of course. It’s good to have you back, Guinevere.”

   “We’ll see about that.” I stood and began strolling to the door, but I stopped at Eggsy. “Don’t drug me the next time you kiss me.”

   “There will be a next time?” Eggsy looked ridiculously smug.

   “Goodbye, Galahad.”

   As I walked away, I couldn’t help but smile since I had forgotten how much it was fun to play with boys in a non violent way. 

A Letter

It’s nearly 3 am here as I am writing this so please excuse me if I get too emotional.

A little over a year ago I decided to create this blog. It was a decision made on a whim after I had stayed up until 5 in the morning and ended up writing a short Spencer Reid drabble. It was nothing special, not even 300 words long, but it was enough to get this blog going.

Since then I have received countless requests, written fics ranging from fluff to angst. I have torn my own self to pieces in writing certain fics, revealing a much more personal side of myself than I ever thought I would ever be strong enough to share. My writing has improved, I have grown as a person, and this simple blog has brought me so much happiness.

But you guys, you are the heart and soul of this. Your requests have given me so much inspiration. Your feedback has made me believe in myself and in my own writing. Your asks have made me laugh until my stomach hurts, bringing me so much joy that I never knew I could feel.

You have been here through everything. You’ve been supportive when I’ve had to take time off to deal with my mental health. You’ve supported me through heartbreak, and equally supported my happiness. Some of you were trusting enough to share your addresses so I could send you a Valentine’s Day card. Some of you were sweet and sent me a small donation in support of my work. Some of you were even kind enough to offer me a few dollars when I was broke and in need of money to afford a ride for a doctor visit.

Some of you like everything I write, hitting that little heart button almost as soon as I hit publish. Some of you leave beautiful words on my fics that inspire me to continue to create. Some of you simply read what I write, and I appreciate it more than you can imagine.

I never once thought this blog would get to this point. I remember hitting 100 followers and thinking, wow, people actually read my writing. Now there are over 5 thousand of you and I am so overwhelmed by the number.

I have always loved writing. I never felt I was very good at it, though. I never thought that anything I wrote would be good enough. I never thought I could write something that would make others feel. I even felt a little foolish for even entertaining the possibility.

I started this blog a year ago and in just the first month, my confidence had been raised to the point I was comfortable enough to sign up for a screenwriting class at my school.

You all did that. You have all pushed me to write, to believe in myself. You have all been so wonderfully kind and supportive, more than people who I have known for years in person. Your support is not taken for granted, I promise you that.

I know many people look at tumblr as a sort of “trash” site full of memes and other ridiculous things. But it is also full of wonderful people who take time out of their day to create content for others to enjoy, and it is full of equally wonderful people who support them. I have seen so many of you share love not just to me, but to my fellow writers. I have seen the joy you all bring.

You as readers matter just as much as writers do.

I know a simple thank you will never suffice, but I promise that I hold you all so deeply in my heart. 

With all my love,


A rant I guess,???

It is 4.06 am and I haven’t been able to return to my slumber despite how much I try to imagine how comfy Noct would be, and I need to address something that I find very important.
(and when I finished this it became 4.30am)

What makes me really sad to see, in any fandom, is how much talent goes to waste because blogs don’t get enough love. Yes, likes are nice. But it’s the reblogs and replies and tags and kind, positive asks that mean the WORLD to the creative side if every fandom. Even in reality too.

But in fandoms, popular blogs (I’d say any who get constant asks and love and support and grin followers super quickly) can swallow up smaller starting out blogs.

When you search up tags, the most popular in those tags pop up. And one a minority of the posts get shown.

I really appreciate it when largest blogs encourage starting out blogs, but, at the same time, those blogs aren’t going to get the same reception.

And what makes me sad is that here it’s either your popular because of the thirst or your popular because of a word Count or because your grammar is spot on or your spelling is on point or because you manage to get a fic or two up every day and then open requests a few days later…

Here it’s go big or go home.

Some smaller blogs have just as much talent as these guys, or the potential for more, but feel like they will never get up there because people don’t send an ask saying how great they are, or reply on a fic or reblog with a comment upon their feels or put it in the tags. Sometimes tags get eaten away or blogs only see the tags by the popular blogs and read thise first, or send something much more meaningful to a popular blog. And that shouldn’t be happening. If both make you feel something, show just as much love to the less popular as you do to the more popular.

Smaller/unnoticed blogs feel like they have to know everyone in the fandom in order to get somewhere and it fucking sucks alright?

Blogs shouldn’t have to get the ‘sticker of approval’ from a popular blog.
They shouldn’t have to know everyblog in the fandom to get somewhere.
They shouldn’t have to feel like they can’t make a mistake or upload something full of them.
They shouldn’t feel like they have to upload something every day until their brain is fried before having an influx of ‘don’t push yourself’
And they certainly shouldn’t be getting hate for trying to get noticed over the popular blogs so their posts get seen.

Because this isn’t a publishing firm.
This isn’t a book written to be published on paperback or hardback.

This is a place of fics. It is a place where typos amd grammar and bad english shouldn’t get you down.
Anons shouldn’t be sending hate.
Blogs shouldn’t be sending hate.

Because what every blog needs - popular or not - is support.

What starting blogs need is support and a whole lot of love.

On a bad day a popular blog could get about 100 notes in a day.
A starting blog? 3.

A good day a popular blog could get 300 Notes.
A small blog? 20.

And those numbers mean the world.
But what means the world more than 20 likes? 10 likes and 10 reblogs. Because even though 10 people liked it, those people or ten others reblogged it because they enjoyed it. Not because they liked it. But because they enjoyed it.
Better than ten reblogs? Those blogs requesting, leaving comments and asks and letting the creator know the feels they went through.

That is an amazing part of keeping a blog going. And what makes me sad is that it feels like only popular blogs get that.

You could say that I’m a popular blog because of 150+ followers. But I’m really not.

Yes, I get requests.
But most of them get more likes than reblogs and more reblogs than comments and tags and asks saying just how much it meant to people or the feels it all went through.

Sometimes a 'this was so good I encourage you all to read’ is NOT ENOUGH. It sounds fake and like you felt obligated to put something.

If you really liked it, shove down how it made you feel. Shove down the emotions you went through. Put down your heart.

Support them.

Because support is all a blog needs.

Undercover? With Him? {Part 3}

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You and Peter have a slight grudge against each other and when you are assigned to go undercover as a engaged couple, you have to get over your differences.

Word Count: 1003

A/N: I’d like to formally apologize for taking so long for publishing this, but look at it! It’s up! I had a few problems with ideas,  but after I pushed something out, I got into the flow.


Warnings: Hamilton


Part 1 Part 2

Keep reading

Weekly Spotlight #2 - @angryschnauzer

So when I had the idea for these, I had no clue it would morph into what it has, and I’m sure I still have a few surprises ahead of me. But I sincerely look forward to chatting with each nominee and getting to know them, and I hope this spreads some wonderful positivity and love!

This week I got to know the lovely Simone @angryschnauzer. She’s a lovely blogger that writes for the Marvel fandom and their respective actors. She’s a sweetie and her blog is lovely! So without further ado…

Alright, first question… name, age, and where are you from?

angryschnauzer: Simone, I’m 36 at the moment though 37 is rapidly approaching in August! I’m from a town called Redhill which is just south of London in England.

Erin: So many Brits in the first 7 weeks of interviews! I love it!

And what led you to create your blog?

Simone: A fledgling mini obsession with Tom Hiddleston that blossomed thoroughly once I signed my soul up to this website!

Keep reading

Different Dreams, Different People

“Hey—hey, I’m just calling because I haven’t heard from you in a week. Call me when you can, alright? I miss you.” There goes another voicemail I record for him.

After hours at work shelving books and guiding guests to their requested novels and textbooks, I’m finally on my way home. Without any contact with Jinyoung, my days have been nothing but dreadful yet I fake it to make it. As I reach the front of my door, I juggle my notebooks and bag onto one arm as I insert my key into the lock. The second I crack the door open, JJ, my Pomeranian, runs to greet me and hops around my ankles.

Keep reading

Comfort from the Easy boys

Since there was such positive feedback on the original post, I’ve decided to expand the list to include more of the guys. I copied the ones already published so that all your Easy comfort will be in one place. 

With love

Ash <3 

Lipton: I know you’ve been down, and I know it’s been a tough run lately, but it’ll be okay. Do what you have to do. Trust that it’s all going to work out; because it will. I’ll be right here to help you through it.

Nixon: I think you’re overthinking things a little, sweetheart. Take a deep breath. Now look at your problem again. See.. it’s not nearly as bad as you thought. You can do this. Remember, it doesn’t have to be perfect to be okay.

Toye: I really fucking hate it that you’ve had a bad day. I’d do anything to fix it for you if I could. But look at you. You made it, you survived. You’re such a badass, and I’m proud of you.

Roe: My mother used to say every day is a gift. I think that she had it wrong. You are a gift to today, and today is lucky to have you. Make today better than yesterday. And always remember that at the end of the day, I’ll be there.

Shifty: Why I– I think you’re the most wonderful person in this whole world. Not because you’re perfect, I can’t rightly recall ever meeting anyone that was perfect, but because of how kind you are. How no matter what, you don’t let anyone change you. I think that’s downright beautiful.

Speirs: You can’t let this stop you. Don’t let this situation get in the way of your goals. Forge ahead. Accept the fact that you’re stronger than you think you are, and show them you’re going to fight. Show them the soldier you’ve become.

Guarnere: Look kid. If you want to let this get you down, fine, be my guest. But I know that you’re better than this. You can beat it. So do it. Show ‘em who their messing with. 

Malarkey: It’s easy to let it get to you. Life can be a bitch, I know. But I need you to be okay. I need you to push through this. I know you can do it, and I need you to do it for yourself. I can’t do it for you. But I’ll be here every step of the way.

Liebgott: Hey, you’re tougher than you give yourself credit for. I’m completely ready to beat the shit out of someone for you, but believe me when I say, you don’t need me to. You are quite capable, and I think it’s time you showed them who the fuck they’re dealing with. Take shit from no one. You’re fucking awesome. On a completely unrelated note, if I disappear later, I am not hunting down whoever made you feel like this… *cough*

Luz: Wanna hear a funny story? Once upon a time there was a girl who was the strongest in the world. But she didn’t believe in herself, and she let others tell her they were stronger and better than her. Until one day, she listened to her friend when he told her she was the strongest, and showed them just how strong she was. They all shit their pants. The End. 

Babe: Look, I ain’t gonna pretend I’m all that good with words, but it’s a crime that no one has told you this yet so I’ll do my best. You are beautiful. You’re talented, and smart, and the strongest person I know. If anyone can do this, it’s you.

Buck: You remind me a lot of the heroines I studied in college. Strong, loyal, brave, a little reckless. Perfect. (Oops did I just say that out loud?) You just need to believe in yourself… I believe in you. 

Web: In the words of my favorite proverb ‘For yesterday is but a dream, and tomorrow is only a vision. But today, well lived, makes every yesterday a dream of happiness, and every tomorrow a vision of hope. Look well, therefore, to this day.’ Today is your day. Take it back from what’s hurting you. Make today the best day you’ve ever had. You deserve it. 

Skip: Listen to me. We all make mistakes. We all do stupid things. Stop letting those things get you down. They’re in the past. Let them stay there. You don’t have to worry about them any more. 


pairing: bellamy x clarke
wordcount: 3.4k
summary: Clarke does drunk movie reviews. Bellamy has a channel on Greek mythology. Somehow one leads to the other. (a bellarke youtubers au)

It started off as a joke.

Back when she and Raven shared a dorm, bottles of tequila stashed away in their dresser drawers, they’d been looking for something to kill time with–mainly something to do while they put off coursework–and three shots into the night, they’d decided turned the camera on and started talking.

It spiralled in a lot of different directions, but when they watched it back the next morning, it was mainly about movies, whichever movie they’d seen most recently, so they cut out the bits around it, and put that chunk on YouTube. Just because, well, why the hell not.

They did it again the next week, purposefully picking out a crap movie to watch on the Tv while Raven’s laptop sat open, recording them trashing the movie, passing a bottle back and forth. The longer the night went on, the emptier the bottle got, the more ridiculous the review got.

They posted it anyway, the next morning, cutting out the bits where they sat in silence or talked so loud over each other that it was impossible to make out what they were actually saying. Clarke fell asleep halfway through editing it, but Raven sliced it down to five minutes, posting it the same day.

They didn’t really expect anything to happen from it. It was just a way to blow off steam, something to do friday nights when they were too lazy or uninterested in going out. In no way did they ever think anyone would watch the videos.

The definitely didn’t think they’d become popular.

Keep reading

A Decade of You

Cas and Dean have been best friends for ten years, the fact that Cas is a bit in love with the other man a secret he’s kept to himself. However, after having a few too many drinks at the bar, they end up at Cas’s apartment alone. Alone with far too many things between them left unsaid.

Rated M for sexual content.

Cas had known Dean for ten years.

And he’d been in love with him for that long too.

“Happy Birthday,” a voice muttered in Cas’s ear, causing him to turn in his seat. He hadn’t heard Dean come in, but that wasn’t really so surprising. Cas tended to keep his door open all the time, so it was easy for people to sneak up on him. Especially when he was going over a manuscript.

Dean set a cupcake down atop the page he’d been reading, Cas managing to crack a small smile.

“Wow, look at that,” he admired the workmanship of the cake – all flowery and pink with a bee in the center. “Did you do this?”

“Of course,” Dean went back around the desk, sitting down across from Cas before undoing the front button on his suit. “You know me, I’m excellent with frosting and… sprinkles and shit.” Cas cocked a skeptical brow. “I got it down at the bakery. You know I did.”

“Yes, I do,” Cas agreed. “You must have requested the bee though. I didn’t see that through the window.”

“I can be thoughtful,” Dean defended. “I am a poet after all.”

“You haven’t published anything in years.”

“I’ve published plenty of other people’s stuff,” he sniffed. “And just because I haven’t published anything recently doesn’t mean I haven’t been writing. You don’t know me. You don’t know my life.”

“Yeah, okay,” Cas wiped his finger along the top of the pink frosting before sucking it between his lips. “That’s why we lived together for three years. And why I was one of the groomsmen at your wedding. Because I don’t know you.” A painful memory, the wedding, but he wasn’t about to tell Dean that.

“Not a groomsman. You were my second best man, get it right.”

“There isn’t a difference.”

“Sure there is.” They’d had this debate before. “Sam’s my brother, so he had to be my best man. But you’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to choose.”

“So you made up a new position for me.”

“You should be flattered.”

“Oh, I am,” Cas rolled his eyes.

“Nothing I ever do is good enough for you,” Dean shook his head, feigning offense. “Here I am, bringing you a damn cupcake on your birthday, making you my second best man, and I don’t even get a ‘thank you.’ We’ve known each other ten years, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt so underappreciated.”

“Oh, my apologies,” Cas said flatly. “Please, let me make it up to you. Would you like that blow job in my office or yours?”

“Aw, you know me so well,” Dean grinned, winking. “That’s okay though, I’ve got assistants for that kind of dirty work. Besides, it is your birthday. If anyone should be getting blow jobs, it’s you.”

Keep reading

Possessed - Imagine Request

Request by @jeffry4ever:  Can a get a fanfic of DeanxReader that is about the Reader getting possessed and Dean trying to snap you out of it?? With a lot of angst and a little bit of fluff.

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam, Rowena (small cameo), Billie the reaper (small cameo), demon, Lucifer (mentioned), Castiel (mentioned).

Word count: 2,897

Warnings: Demonic possession, mentions of blood, violence, major character’s death, angst, minor fluff, language.

A/N: Silly me thought I had published it, then it turned out I had saved it as a draft. My apologies for the inconvinience. Also, this was a pain in the ass to write, it’s been a stressful day and I was out of ideas so I’m sorry if it isn’t what you expected. Feedback is always appreciated.


Originally posted by australiansquid

The little hotel was full, and the awful storm pouring outside was the only one to blame.

Since it was literally a house turned into a hotel, the rooms were limited and only a few lucky people managed to get a room on time, leaving a whole crowd of dripping-wet people sitting at the lobby.

Some of those unlucky, wet people were the Winchesters and (Y/N).

“I hate storms.” Dean complained yet again.

“We know.” Sam rolled his eyes.

“You’ve said it for like a million times since we got here.” (Y/N) added, sounding as annoyed as the younger Winchester.

Dean sighed and got back up again. He walked over to the lobby to ask for directions to the closest motel. Sadly, this hotel was the only one in a hundred miles radio, and there was no way in hell Baby could survive driving that much under that kind of storm.

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked as he and (Y/N) stared at the groaning Dean, who was now having a discussion with the receptionist as if it would change the situation somehow.

“Peachy.” She replied with a bitter tone.

“Right… I know Dean is an asshole when situations like this happen, but I think we should just ignore it and try to…”

“Try to what? We were going to go back to the bunker tonight, but instead that fucking storm made us end up in a shitty hotel with no rooms available!” The huntress roared.

“Chill, I was just trying to make thing a little better.” Sam quickly replied with wide eyes. This wasn’t her usual behaviour.

“Right, because that’s what the good ‘ol Sammy does.” She huffed, “Give me a break.” And with that being said, she got up and walked away from both brothers.

Dean noticed her pissed of look and rushed to sit back again next to his brother. “What…?”

“Your girlfriend is moody.” Sam stated. Dean, who could read his brother like a child’s book, realized that not only was Sam hurt by whatever she had told him, but he was also insisting on Dean to give him an explanation.

“She’s just tired from hunting… And the hotel not having rooms available just make it worse.” Dean tried to justify her, but Sam wasn’t having it.

“She’s been living with us for a long while and, trust me, this isn’t her usual ‘tired from hunting’ behaviour.” Sam replied angrily.

“Well, it certainly isn’t that time of the month either…” Dean mumbled, getting a confused look from his brother, “I made sure of that this morning before the hunt.”

“Gross.” Sam spat, “Whatever it is, just fix it. Maybe you made her mad by some asshole comment or something.”

Dean nodded, although he didn’t go up to talk to his girlfriend right away; he figured it would be better to give her a bit of space to cool down before facing her.


As the night went by, the storm slowed down just enough to turn into a light rain; allowing many of the people at the lobby to drive back home.

“Guys, let’s go.” (Y/N) urged. In spite of being past 3 am she looked really active.

“Sweetheart, we’re spending the night here and then we’ll go back to bunker.” Dean explained as he got up from the floor to walk tiredly towards the receptionist, who was showing him the key to a free room.

“We can’t.” She hissed, “We need to get to the bunker tonight, otherwise…”

“Otherwise what?” Dean furrowed.

“Otherwise, we’ll have to stand Sam’s snores for yet another night.” She corrected herself.

“Sam doesn’t snore.” Dean mumbled.

“Yes he does…” She insisted, “You don’t notice it because you grew up with him.” Dean nodded in agreement.

“We’re staying anyway.” He said, “So you should put on some earplugs or something.”


(Y/N) was at the bathroom, taking an unusually long shower.

“Sam, I think something’s wrong with her.” Dean muttered, careful to speak low enough for only Sam to hear.

“No shit.” Sam replied, “Do you think it has to do with the demons we hunted this morning?”

“I don’t know… It can’t be because uh… She has the tattoo.” Dean pouted, thinking the many possibilities.

“Have you uh… Have you used protection when…?” Sam asked, trying to make it as less awkward as possible.

“Of course we do! Sam, for Chuck’s sake, I won’t repeat my mistake with that amazon girl.” Dean roared.

“You should check either way.” Sam continued, “I’ll be down at the bar while you… Check.”

As the younger Winchester walked out of the room, Dean found some courage and entered the bathroom as shamelessly as ever; except this time, he wasn’t planning on taking off any piece of clothing.

The hunter walked in silently. He had left his boots by the bed, so his bare feet were useful enough for him to sneak in without her noticing.

Dean noticed that she was humming to a song – a not-rock song; which wasn’t not only strange but incredibly suspicious. He grabbed the bath’s curtain and pushed it lightly, only to show him the back of his naked girl, who had her eyes closed and her face right under the water.

Dean couldn’t help but to let his eyes wander from the top of her head, all the way down her wet hair, her exposed neck, her flawless skin… He moved down to her ass, ignoring for a second the bottom of her back, where her anti-possession tattoo had been inked, but immediately looked back up.


The girl wrapped a towel around her body and walked out of the bathroom, only to find Dean holding his flask, sitting at the edge of the bed with a hurt look on his face.

“Heya, handsome.” She greeted, striking a seductive pose.

“Since when I’m handsome and not babe?” Dean asked without looking up to her.

“Since forever…” She replied, doubtful. “Why are you so grumpy?”

“Maybe because my freaking girlfriend got possessed.” He hissed, finally looking up to her.

(Y/N)’s eyes turned black instantly. “How did you find out?”

“First of all, (Y/N) would never ever be mean to Sam.” Dean replied, showing off his demon knife, “Second of all, she knows Sam doesn’t snore.” Dean stop of from bed, walking over to her and pressing the knife against her collarbone. “And third, you can’t stop me from looking at my girl’s body… And let me tell you, I hate what you did to the tattoo.”

The demon smiled wickedly. “I guess I shouldn’t choose a pervert’s girlfriend as a meat suit then.”

“You should never choose anyone close to me as a meat suit, again.” Dean roared, stepping back. The demon then realized that she had been trapped under a devil’s trap dean had drawn with (Y/N)’s lipstick.

“She’s going to kill you for this.” The demon chuckled.

“At least it will be her and not a fucking demon.” Dean shrugged his shoulders. The demon grumbled, looking around for anything she could use against the hunter. “So why her anyway?”

“I needed to get inside the bunker.” The demon replied, “Once there, I would be able to control every single move you two assholes make and, eventually, weaken you just enough for Lucifer to end you without being a threat.”

“Oh, so Lucy is scared of us.” Dean joked, “That’s lovely. How’s the old man?”

“How dare you disrespect him?” The demon roared.

“Well, turns out that I don’t give a damn who Lucy is, or how much power he has. For me, he is and will always be a cry baby.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “Now, we can do it the easy way or the hard way.”

“Screw you.” The demon barked.

“Fine, hard way then.” Dean shrugged, “I was actually going to let you go with a message to Lucy from me and Sam but uh… Guess the only place you’re going is hell.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” The demon winked. Dean walked back inside the devil’s trap, keeping his knife gripped tightly and, again, pointing it at her collarbone.

“If you do something stupid, I’ll hunt you down; and God knows I always keep my word.” Dean whispered, eyes locked into hers, which were back to (Y/E/C) but still darker enough for him to notice it was actually the demon and not the girl he was talking to.

“Oh, Dean,” She smiled, “the only one doing stupid things is you.” Dean furrowed his eyebrows before the demon punched him right on the jaw, making him loose balance and, obviously, soften his grip on the knife – which she took easily before kicking him out of the trap. Said move made the table at the side of the bathroom door loose balance as well, allowing the demon to grab the flower vase, breaking it with her own hands and grabbing a sharp piece.

“Exorcisamus te, omnis inmundus spiritus,” Dean began as soon as he realized what had just happened.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The demon laughed wickedly. She stabbed the huntress leg with the piece of glass, letting red blood drip. “Either you stop the exorcism, or I’ll cut her throat.”

“Don’t you dare.” Dean fumed.

“Don’t make me prove it.” The demon grinned, “Now, this is what’s going to happen: You and Sam come with me at the exact spot I tell you – no weapons, of course. I give you to Lucifer and then I kill your whore as painless and fastest possible.”

“Bite me.” Dean hissed.

“I would, but seems like this meat suit has bitten you too many times already.” The demon winked, “Now, break the trap and let me out.”

“No.” Dean spoke.

“Fine, I won’t kill her.” The demon sighed, “I’ll let her live with the images of her giving her own boyfriend to Lucifer… For the rest of her life.”

“She’s not having those images.” Dean got up from the floor. His flask was still in bed.

“I heard rumour about the Winchesters being idiots,” She laughed, “but this is worse than I expected.” She grinned widely, “You’re actually willing to kill your so-called love of your life just because you’re not willing to meet Lucifer without weapons.”

“I’m not going to kill her.” Dean stated.

“Right, I am going to kill her.” The demon corrected. She took the knife out of her leg, leaving a hole and proceeded to hold it just in place to rip her throat in half. “Go on, exorcise me… But we both know that once I’m out, your whore will be dead.”

“We always come back.” Dean tried to sound confident of his statement.

“Not with Billie around…” The demon giggled, “Yeah, everyone knows she’s not willing to let you or Sam or (Y/N) come back.”

“Then I won’t let you kill (Y/N).” Dean shivered. The demon gave him a daring look, waiting for Dean to make his next move. “(Y/N), I know you’re in there!”

She laughed. “She’s not strong enough Dean.” She pressed the knife tighter to her skin, “I should know. She’s been screaming your name since I possessed her.”

“Babe, please try and take control. I know you can do it.” Dean begged, “It’s your head, and your body… You can do this.”

“Poor thing…” The demon mumbled with a cocky smile, “I’m stronger, Dean.”

“(Y/N) please… If you can kick my ass, you can definitely do this.” Dean continued to ignore the demon, “Just don’t freak out, and focus!”

“I thought you would have a better idea.” The demon faked a yawn, letting the knife travel a bit more, drawing a thin line that started to drip thick blood.

“Calm down, sweetheart.” Dean begged with teary eyes, “Just take control and I’ll do the rest.”

“Boooring!” The demon chanted, and just before she could rip past the half of her throat, Dean stopped her.

Half of her neck was bloody as hell, but that could be fixed. The important this was that Dean managed to stop her on time.

“(Y/N), please fight!” Dean begged, wrestling with the demon.

“(Y/N) is gone, ken-doll.” The demon roared, pushing Dean away. “She won’t come back.”

With a fast hand, the demon stabbed her belly; and if that wasn’t enough, she twisted the knife before taking it out to stab again, this time a bit more to the side.

“Go on, exorcise me.” The demon chuckled.

“Bitch.” Dean muttered, getting more and more concerned about the amount of blood dripping from her girlfriend’s body. ‘It can all be fixed, it’s not that bad’ Dean would repeat himself mentally.

“Should I finish with her throat? Or should I stab her heart?” The demon pouted, “Your girlfriend, your choice.”

“I love you, sweetheart.” Dean surrendered. (Y/N) took enough control to stop the demon from stabbing her heart by forcing her arm down; however, that was all the huntress could do – she wasn’t strong enough.

Dean took advantage of the situation, he grabbed the flask from bed at super speed, opening it and pouring the holy water over her girlfriend’s body. The demon let out a painful screech, dropping the piece of glass to the floor, which Dean kicked out of the devil’s trap.

Little did he know that, between the water and the wrestling, a part of the trap had been smudged, turning the trap useless. The demon noticed and pushed Dean all the way to the opposite wall.

“Dean Winchester, I heard all kinds of stories about you and Sam and, truth is, I thought you were better hunters.” The demon hissed as she walked closer to him. Dean was on the floor, and he couldn’t move. “Who would’ve thought a low range demon would kill the big Dean Winchester?”

“I’m sorry, Dean.” Sam spoke from behind the demon. He had heard the fight and entered silently, finding the demon knife on the floor. The demon turned around to meet the hunter, who greeted her by stabbing the exact same hole she had stabbed before, except this time Sam was using the right knife.

A light shined from her insides before she dropped to the floor. The towel was covered in blood, and the room was destroyed; but what really mattered to both hunters was (Y/N)’s health and she wasn’t even conscious.


“I should’ve taken care of you…” Dean whispered at his lifeless girlfriend, “I should’ve noticed… I should’ve been prepared and finished the exorcism before she even grabbed that piece of glass.”

They had taken her to the hospital, but it was too late. Therefore they took her back to the bunker, where Dean had laid her on their shared bed, praying to Castiel with all his might. But the angel never came.

“If I could do something… Anything… I would bring you back.” Dean cried, holding her cold hand with his warm one. She was paler than ever, and her once silky hair looked more like plastic wires now. His pink limps had turned grey and her soft skin was now dull. Dean had prayed every night not to see the day when she died, but his prayers were never answered.

He wondered if Billie had already reaped her or if (Y/N) had said no and decided to stay – and if so, he wanted her ghost to manifest. But then again, it took Bobby a while, so he couldn’t expect the huntress to do it a day after dying.

“Dean…” Sam spoke from the door frame.

“Just give me five more minutes… I want to remember her.” Dean begged, his green eyes glued to the huntress.

“I don’t think we’ll need to burn her.” Sam continued. This time, Dean did turn to see him, noticing that he wasn’t alone.


She still needed to heal, therefore she would remain unconscious for a couple days if not the whole week, but she was breathing again, and her hands were warmer and her lips were pink again.

Rowena had made her a special hex bag, as well as some kind of herbal patches for each one of her wounds. Then, after getting on trance, she made it all work and the huntress was alive.

Of course, a witch’s healing wasn’t as good as an angel’s. (Y/N) would feel pain, and she would keep those scars for life, but then again, it didn’t matter.

Billie appeared at the bunker after Rowena finished.

“Dean, we’ve talked about this.” She said.

“I can’t let her go, Billie.” Dean replied with teary eyes.

“I lost a soul, Dean.” Billie insisted.

“Take mine then, but let her live.” The hunter urged to offer. Billie analysed him.


“No? Why not?” Dean furrowed.

“I’ll be there when you die, but for now, I won’t take you in exchange of another soul.” Billie explained, “This is the last time I go empty-handed.” And with that, the reaper disappeared.


It took forever, but once (Y/N) had healed completely, she came back on hunting, willing to destroy Lucifer, no matter what it took. Sam and Dean, who had forced her to get her tattoo fixed and carry an amulet, were more than willing to kill that ‘freaking angel’ once and for all; and this time, there would be no way he could escape.

Nobody messes with a Winchester, less to say, with a Winchester’s girlfriend.

More Than A Song

Originally posted by busankookie

More Than A Song

“What the hell is this!?”  You threw his notebook across the room. Tears streaming down your cheeks. “How could you do this?! Is this all I am?” you glared at your boyfriend, who was being all too silent.

He stared at his journal down by his feet, as he allowed you your moment to vent.

You hated when he got like that. 

He always looked at things too rationally. Everything he did was with purpose. No action had no reason because everything had consequence. That’s just how he was. He gave you all the time in the world to get out what you needed to, because he knew it was pointless to argue with you when you were angry.

But it was things like that, that made you angrier. You just wished he reacted to things. “Stop trying to analyze me and say something!” you huffed. His lyric book was the most precious thing to him. Normally you wouldn’t pry but you noticed he’d been vigorously writing lately. Imagine your horror when you opened it up to the newest page to find the content being the argument the two of you had only a few days prior.

Keep reading

douchebag ceo (l.h)

tbh i think the boys read some of the smut that we write so that’s why they picked luke as the hot ceo so there you go

I sat in my cubicle space, once again. bored as hell. I hated being the social media updater. Don’t get me wrong, I love social media. I’m always up to date on it. But when there’s nothing BIG happening in the music social media department, I always end up dong nothing. And the thing is, our company expects us to be the first to update everyone on what’s going on but nothing happened. Sure, there were music videos and some celeb fights and some other events, but it never involved music artists. It always involved actors. I should’ve just taken the internship for the writing company. Do you know how many workers here have had their shit published? All because they worked for the writing department. I wanted to one up my life and go ask for that internship but of course, the one person who had to run it all was the biggest douchebag in the world. Luke Hemmings.

He was always the kind of guy that got everything he wanted because he owned one of the biggest publishing/social media companies in the world. He was a multi-billionaire and he showed it off. He has probably fucked every other girl in this office and he has probably never even looked at them again. But here I am, getting his coffee for him.

“Good morning, Mr. Hemmings.” I hear our 18th floor receptionist say behind me. I take out my one earbud and grab the white coffee that sat on my desk, waiting for his arrival. Everyone in the four front rows on the outside had a task. The first one was to give him his mail, the second was to give him his papers, the third one was to give him his tablet, and the fourth one(aka me) was to follow him to his office and give him his coffee. I looked above the short walls and watch as he looked down at his phone, gripping his bag and papers and rushed down the aisle. Every girl in the office admired him and only started working after he got here. I had to admit, he was hot. With his smooth hair and his grey blazer, but I would never date him. Oh god, dating him would be the worst. He walked past my cube and I followed him behind, gripping the white cup.

“Any news, Y/N?” He said, still looking at his tablet as he walked to his chair. He started to set his stuff down and I wait in the door, holding his coffee.

“Not currently at 8 in the morning, sir.” I rock back and forth on my heels waiting for him to settle down. He eventually does and sits down in his chair, setting a place for his coffee and setting his papers to the side. I place his coffee down in front of him.

“Is there anything else you need sir before your assistant comes in?” I say, holding my hands watching him as he sipped his coffee. He didn’t say anything so I took it as a sign that he didn’t need anything. I smile to myself and start to walk out.

“Wait,” I stop in my tracks and turn around and he’s looking at his tablet and his coffee is sitting in his hand, “what the hell is this?” I start to get nervous. I didn’t know what he was talking about but he was always really scary when he was upset.

“What the hell was what, sir?”

“What the hell is this on my website?” He turned his tablet my way and showed me his website. I looked at the website and it had all these shirtless pictures of Luke in this club.

“I didn’t do this sir…” I say, backing up slightly.

“Well you’re in the social media department, so you had to have done something, am I right?” He stands up and his hands are on his waist and his face is bright red.

“Sir, I manage music social media. Kris handles the pictures and social media site.” Before I finish my sentence, he is storming out the door and walks over to the social media department.

“Who the fuck put this on my website?” He screams. All of the ladies look up and you can tell they were obviously flustered by his sudden aggressiveness. “Who the fuck would put these pictures of me on my own fucking website?” Nobody said anything. He started to growl and run his hands through his hair and threw the nearest thing he could find, which was a stapler.

“If anybody doesn’t confess to this shit, everyone of you, one by one, will see me in my office and talk about your future.” He stares out to the people and grunts. He turns around to go to his office, leaving me behind with all the girls.

“Who the fuck did it?” yelled Shelby. “We’re all gonna get fired if nobody confesses.”

“Y/N,” I turn around and look at Y/BFF/N who was peaking her head behind the wall, “who do you think it was?” she whispers. I walk towards her and lean against the wall.

“No idea.” I shrug.

“Y/N!” I hear Luke yell. I turn around and he is in his doorway, his hands on his hips. I stand up straight and straighten out my skirt. I walk towards him and everyone’s eyes are on me.

“Yes sir?” He grabs my wrist and pulls me into his office and quickly shuts the door.

“Sit.” He roughly says. He closes his blinds on both glass sides of his office.


“Sit the fuck down.” He quietly, but harshly says. I look at him with surprised eyes and sit down in the brown leather chair, crossing my legs, my breathing  getting heavier. He finally sits down in front of me and runs his hands through his hair.

“Why’d’ you call me in here?”

“Shut up.” He says into his hands. I look at my own hands and I looked around his office. They were now covered by curtains and his string lights were on so his office was slightly dark.

“I know my assistant put up the pictures.”

I looked up at him and he’s staring at his tablet.

“Then why didn’t you tell the girls?”

“Because I like to be admired.” He said with a smirk.

“Then why am I in here?”

“Because you seem like the only one not interested.” He leans forward and cups his hands together, looking at me with those deep and blue eyes.

“Shouldn’t you be more worried about your shirtless pictures on your website, Mr. Hemmings?” I say clearing my throat, shifting uncomfortably in my seat.

“I would put those pictures up myself, I could care less about those pictures.” He leans back and puts his feet on his desk. “I wanna know what I can do to make you scream my name tonight.” I look up at him, appalled, and he’s smirking at me. Just like the dick he was. I scoffed and stood up.

“I’d rather be unemployed.” I turned around but he stopped me with a laugh.

“I thought you wanted to be in the publishing department.” I turned back around to stare at him and he is still in the same position, but he’s sipping his coffee.

“How the hell did you know that?”

“Y/N, I know everything about everyone. I know that you wrote a book about a girl whose life was flipped upside down by a boy she never knew,” He stood up and started walking towards me. How the hell could she have known that? “I own all the computers, Y/N. I know what everyone does and what everyone wants.” He starts to walk towards and my breath hitches.  

“That’s an invasion of privacy.” I walk backwards.

“Not when all of you are my privacy,” he starts walking faster until my back is up against the mahogany table stand with all of his awards and pictures. He lines his hips along mine and his face is only 2 centimeters away from my face, “especially you.” He leans in and I shimmy out of his grip and look at him, my hand on the door handle.

“I’d rather stay in my shit hole updating the website.” I open the door and all of the girls were standing outside, staring. I grunt and walk towards my cubicle, packing my bag. Once I finally have everything, I walk towards the elevators, with everyone’s eyes staring at me.

“I always get what I want, Y/N!” Luke yells at me across the room. He starts to run towards me but the elevator doors finally shut.

okay im not really sure if im into this series. tbh i thought it was gonna turn out better but ehh if you guys like it just request pls lol
and i am currently updating angels vs demons and i have like 5 other smuts/imagines i wanna upload soooooo

request pt.2

How the boys react to MC coping with the anniversary of her Father’s birthday - OTBS

So I started writing this a couple of days ago. It’s not a request, but I felt it would help me get out some of the things I’ve been feeling this week. Today would have been my sister’s birthday. It’s been 4 and a half years since she passed away and it never seems to get easier at this time of year.

With that in mind, I decided to write a head canon on how MC would deal with her father’s birthday, specifically, for the first time since she joined and met the guys at Seasonelle.

Angst & fluff to be expected.

Minato - Being assigned to a new article on the same week of your Father’s birthday was never going to be an easy task.
Sitting down at your desk, you had barely started when you put your head in your hands. How could you possibly focus on something like this when you could barely keep your focus. Cursing inwardly at forgetting to take that week off, you began to look over some notes when you let out a small sigh.
As you continued to read, Minato observed you from his desk, seeing the troubled expression on your face.
You had been considerably quiet for the past couple of days, even at home. You normally reacted so easily to Minato’s teasing, but lately, you seemed to be lost in thought.
As you glanced up from your paperwork to see Minato stood behind you, you barely seemed to respond to his sudden appearance as you nodded to him.
‘Has the Growler got you working on a new article?’
‘Mm, it’s covering a well known author who has written a new bestseller,’ you responded. Though Minato could tell in an instant that something was wrong.
‘You’re not excited to work on it?’
‘No, I am, I just…no, it’s nothing.’
Getting up from your desk, you knew that Minato was fretting over you, but you had to hold it together while you were at work. Nothing good would come from getting emotional around the Seasonelle team. You knew how much they cared for you, the last thing you wanted was to make them worry.
As you continued to work throughout the afternoon, the boys finished up with work and talked eagerly about drinks at Jinbuono.
‘Are you going to join us?’ Chiaki asked, seeing you look up from your work with a fragment of a smile.
‘No, you guys go ahead, I have some work I want to finish up.’
‘Well, don’t overdo it. Remember to go home and get some rest. No all nighters, got it?’ Akiyoshi instructed, getting your agreement before leaving the office, though Minato hung back.
‘Are you sure you don’t want to come out?’
‘I don’t really feel like drinking tonight and I should probably work on this article more,’ you responded, though Minato looked doubtful as he leaned over your desk to speak more quietly.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m fine, just tired,’ you responded, though something about your response seemed unconvincing to Minato.
‘Just don’t work too late. Let me know when your done so we can go home together, okay?’ Promising him that you would, Minato finally relented, giving you a quick kiss and departing the office to catch up with the others.
Taking out the book that the author had written, you looked over the cover with a saddened expression as you finally lowered your guard.
Glancing at the clock, you knew in a few hours it would be here.
Trying to shut out the thoughts, you lost yourself in your work, knowing now that it would be your only distraction. As you read through the book you had been provided with, you could feel the way that the storyline struck a chord in your heart.
As tears slowly filled your eyes, a droplet fell on the page before you let the book go and shut off your computer. You had never felt such a need for someone as you did in that moment. Your Dad should still be here, celebrating his birthday with you. You would have given anything to call him, to hear his voice. As you left Shiki publishing, you could feel the hot tears slip down your cool cheeks. Pulling free the pendant that was hidden beneath your blouse, you slipped your fingers around the slender locket and closed your eyes for a moment as you began to wander absently towards the train station.
Realising you had some time, you sat down on a bench just outside and try to calm your emotions, though a voice calling your name caught you off guard.
‘Why didn’t you-’
Seeing him stop in his tracks as he saw your tear stained face beneath the glow of the streetlight, Minato’s eyes flashed with concern as you broke completely.
Throwing yourself in his arms, you let out a sob, crying against his chest as Minato wrapped you in his embrace.
‘I’m sorry…’
‘What are you apologising for? Idiot. I was worried about you.’
Though his words were harsh, his voice was gentle as you finally explained what had been going on.
‘My Dad’s birthday should have been today…’ you admitted, so quietly that Minato could only just hear you, ‘sometimes I just wish I could see him one more time…then I’m reminded of the fact that no matter how much I hope for it, it will never happen…’
Holding you close to his chest, Minato gently stroked your hair, feeling as though it all made sense now.
‘Jeez, why didn’t you just tell me?’ he asked, his voice soft as he gently ran his hands up and down your back.
‘Because it brings everything back…all the pain…’
It hurt Minato to see you so upset. He had never witnessed you so lost and wrapped up by your emotions.
‘Come on,’
Leading you away from the train station, Minato kept you close with an arm slipped around your waist. Walking to a park that was nearby, Minato got you to sit beside him on a bench overlooking a gradual sloping hill.
‘You were staying at work because you didn’t want to go home yet and dwell on it right? So we’ll stay here until you’re ready to go home.’
‘Come on, listen to me for once,’ he added with a wry smile. Pulling you in close, Minato wrapped you up in his arms as you both looked up at the stars.
‘He’d be proud of you…’
Those few words were enough to force the tears to take over again as you felt them slip down your cheeks.
Looking down to the locket that hung from your neck, Minato followed your gaze as you opened it to reveal two photo’s inside. One of your Mother and the other of you, on your Dad’s shoulders, smiling and happy.
Brushing back your hair behind your ear, Minato gently leaned in and kissed your cheek before resting his forehead against yours.
‘Don’t ever lose your smile, okay? Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it. I will love and protect you, always.. Never forget that.’
Feeling your hand grip his, you didn’t know how long you sat there gazing at the stars, but were grateful to have someone like Minato by your side.  

Shusei - Seasonelle was often so busy that it was easy to lose track of the days, even the weeks. If it weren’t for working on a weekly magazine, you were sure that you would have a harder time keeping up with the time of year.
As such, you had barely realised it was September until your coworkers began discussing Halloween coming up.
Glancing at the calendar on your desk, your heart sank as you realised what date was fast approaching.
With that sombre thought in mind, you couldn’t bring yourself to partake in the conversation as you returned to your desk and worked absently on a new article.
Noticing that you seemed a little despondent, Shusei wanted to try and cheer you up.
When work was over, you met Shusei at the usual place, finding him welcoming you with a warm smile as you interlocked fingers with him, much to his surprise.
‘Your being surprisingly affectionate today,’ he smiled, squeezing your hand lightly as he noted that you walked closer to him.
On the train ride home, Shusei made an effort to keep you engaged in conversation, hoping to distract you from whatever appeared to be on your mind.
‘Would you like to play a new game with me when we get home? It arrived a couple of days ago, but we’ve been so busy…’
‘Sure,’ you agreed, though there was no trace of your usual competitive streak in your response.
Hugging you suddenly, you blushed deeply as you quickly looked around the train car. Luckily you were pretty much alone, though Shusei’s actions still surprised you.
‘I love you,’ he muttered softly in your ear, leaving you with a warmth in your heart as you tried to hold back the tears.
‘I love you too,’ you managed to whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder as your hand lightly gripped on his jacket lapel.
Throughout the rest of the evening, you and Shusei spent most of your time playing on Shusei’s new game, though Shusei continued to keep a watchful eye on you. He wanted so much to see you happy.
Though you didn’t elaborate on what was clearly bothering you, Shusei continued to beat you, even going easier on you didn’t work as he won again.
‘Okay, are we still doing our usual penalty?’ he asked, a warm smile on his face as you looked up in surprise.
‘Oh- sure…’ you responded.
‘Okay, hm, what shall I have you do?’ he muttered, looking thoughtful when he took your hands in his.
‘Tell me what’s bothering you,’ he remarked, taking you by surprise as you looked down.
‘You knew?’
‘That something was wrong? Of course I did,’ he remarked, his voice gentle as he encouraged you to look at him, his imploring eyes making it difficult for you to avoid the question.
‘It would have been my Dad’s birthday on Thursday…with all that’s been going on at work, I didn’t realise how close it had gotten and it just felt like a kick in the stomach…I never talk about it with anyone. Most years I take the day off and just spend it alone, because I don’t want to bother anyone with how I’m feeling.’
Just talking about it, you could feel the tears start to well in your eyes as Shusei pulled you into his lap and gently caressed you.
‘I’m sorry…’ he whispered, holding you close. ‘I had no idea…’
‘It’s okay, I should have told you sooner, it’s just…difficult,’ you admitted, your head resting against Shusei’s chest as you breathed in his welcome scent.
‘Can I do anything?’
‘You’re doing it,’ you responded, your voice full of gratitude as you tightened your grip on him. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you…’
As the days past and Thursday came around, you had gotten up early that morning after struggling to sleep, even with Shusei beside you. Knowing you would need to get ready for work soon, you went to sit on the sofa and cuddled a cushion while looking through some old photo’s you had found.
Thinking about your Dad and how much you missed him, it was hard not to cry as you settled back on the sofa when you heard light footsteps.
Finding Shusei stood in the doorway, he offered you a sympathetic expression as he came to sit beside you and nestled his head against your collarbone.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t wake you up…I just…I didn’t…’
‘Don’t apologise. Just let it out,’ he whispered, his kindness and thoughtful actions being too much as a sob escaped your lips.
Curling up against Shusei’s chest, you cried for what felt like hours, giving yourself a headache in the process while Shusei held you in his arms and placed soft kisses on your skin, offering words of love and comfort while you got everything off your chest.
‘I miss him. I wish he could have met you…I wish he could have known that I was happy…’ you admitted, breaking Shusei’s heart from the sadness in your own.
‘He’ll know,’ Shusei remarked, his voice full of certainty as he kissed the top of your head.
‘We’re going to be late, I’m sorry…this is my fault.’
‘Your not working today…’
‘I talked with Minato and we were able to move the shifts around so you could take the day off. Plus, I called in sick.’
‘Shusei, I-’
‘Don’t say sorry, it’s okay…You wanted to spend today remembering your Dad, right? Well that’s what we’re going to do. Okay?’
Seeing the resolve in his eyes, you finally nodded as Shusei smiled at you.
‘Come on, you need to eat something and then how about we take a shower and maybe go and get some flowers?’
Nodding in response, Shusei kissed you softly, letting you know how much he loved you in that simple gesture.
As you stood at the place your Father had been laid to rest, holding a bouquet of white lilies, you reached out and took Shusei’s hand, feeling him grip it, a small reminder that he was right there with you as you put the bouquet down.
‘I love you Daddy,’ you whispered, brushing your hand against the polished marble before standing to your feet and feeling Shusei’s arms slip around your waist.
‘Thank you Shusei…’
Turning to face him, Shusei cupped your face as he rested his forehead against yours.
‘Always,’ he whispered, holding you close and refusing to let you go…

Tsumugu - You never wanted to bring up the subject of your Father with Tsumugu. You knew he had lost his Mother and that things had been so much more difficult for him growing up. So the thought of talking about your Dad’s upcoming birthday had left you feeling lower than usual.
Sitting together with Tsumugu watching your usual comedy shows, Tsumugu glanced at you on occasion, though you didn’t seem to notice until he spoke up when the show was coming to an end.
‘You’re awful quiet this evenin’. Normally you’d be talkin’ my ear off…’
Seeing the way Tsumugu looked at you curiously, a trace of concern in his eyes, you tried to play it off with a smile.
‘Sorry, I guess work just tired me out. Maybe I should go and take a bath and get an early night…’
Saying no more, Tsumugu appeared to let the subject drop. Though as you went upstairs, thinking it might clear your head to take a bath, Tsumugu appeared behind you as you started to run the water.
Stumbling backwards, Tsumugu quickly caught your hand to prevent you from falling as you relaxed.
‘Tsumugu, I thought you were still downstairs-’
‘Mind if I join ya?’
‘I ain’t gonna ask twice,’ he remarked, looking somewhat embarrassed as he glanced off.
‘I-I guess…’
‘Then will ya tell me what’s on your mind?’
‘I just said, I-’
‘Yeah, your tired, I heard ya the first time. Your also a terrible liar.’
Looking at Tsumugu through his large rimmed glasses, images of your Dad flashed to the forefront of your mind as you dropped your gaze from his. You felt so torn.
Looking up at Tsumugu’s gentle encouragement, his dark eyes gazed into yours.
‘I’m your boyfriend, right? We gotta be able to share stuff…’
‘Like your sisters?’
‘Okay, Mizuki is a very bad example…’ Tsumugu admitted, scratching the back of his head roughly. ‘But you and I both know somethin’ is up and I ain’t about to quit on ya until you tell me.’
‘You’ll think it’s trivial.’
‘Try me.’
Meeting his even gaze, you let out a sigh as you sat on the edge of the bath, with Tsumugu joining you as you shut off the water before turning to talk to him.
‘Wednesday is, well, would have been my Dad’s birthday,’ you explained, finally letting your guard down as you kept your focus on your hands. ‘It sounds stupid and trivial, but the day he passed away and his birthday are the worst days of the year for me. Sometimes, the days around it are dreadful, nothing goes right and it’s as though I’m supposed to be reminded of all the pain I felt the first time around. It’s the same thing every year and I didn’t want to bring it up because you went through so much more than I did and I know it’s selfish of me to-’
At Tsumugu’s interruption, you found his fingers slipping under your chin and bringing you to look at him, the tears that slipped down your cheeks emphasising your pain as Tsumugu watched you with a saddened expression.
‘Come here…’
Feeling his arms wrap around you, you unconsciously reached out and clutched onto his worn shirt, making him tighten his hold on you as he slowly ran his hands up and down your back.
’S’okay…it’s all gonna be okay.’
Tsumugu hated to see you cry, it near enough made his heart ache to see you looking so sad. He could hardly bear it. But what could he do?
‘I-I’m sorry…’
‘Don’t go apologisin’ for somethin’ that ain’t your fault,’ Tsumugu remarked. ‘You’re my girl, you know that right? Don’t hide away from me. You need me, then ya tell me…’
Responding with a small nod, Tsumugu offered you a kind smile before kissing your forehead.
‘Come on, we’ll take a bath an’ then you’re gonna stay with me…I wanna make sure you’re okay.’
Nodding in agreement, Tsumugu seemed contented by that, though as he was about to find out, the day itself would be worse for you than he had expected.
Despite the fact that Tsumugu thought you should have taken the day off, you felt it was better to distract yourself with work, though it was quickly turning into a bad day.
‘Re-write it! How can you think this is anywhere near good enough?’ Akiyoshi growled, throwing down your article on your desk as you flinched slightly and nodded meekly.
‘I’m sorry Chief…’
Noticing your reaction, Tsumugu was grateful to see that Akiyoshi seemed to notice it too, though his attitude with you was annoying your boyfriend immensely. He knew Akiyoshi would have no idea what you were going through, but it irritated him none the less.
‘Just do your best and have Minato check it over.’
‘Yes sir…’
Looking back to your work, you bit your lip as you tried to fight back the emotions that were so close to the surface when Kaoru walked past your desk.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, fine,’ you remarked, trying to offer Kaoru a smile, though it seemed somewhat unconvincing. Tsumugu knew you were anything but fine.
Looking at your screen, you began to zone out as you struggled to focus, with images of your Dad coming to mind. The last birthday you had spent with him. Thinking of the reaction to the gift you had given him, the thought of his smile brought tears to your eyes as your hands began to tremble slightly.
‘Are you okay?’
Looking up to see Shusei’s concerned expression as the first tear slipped down your cheek, you quickly nodded as you got up from your chair.
‘I’m fine, I just-’
‘You’re not fine, what’s wrong?’
‘I-I’m sorry, I just need a break,’ you remarked, running from the room before Tsumugu could stop you, let alone Akiyoshi or the others.
Going to the one place where you knew you wouldn’t be found on the roof, you sat hidden away, crying as you put your head in your hands. How could you have let your emotions get the better of you.
By the time Tsumugu arrived, you were breaking your heart with sadness as Tsumugu embraced you in a delicate hug.
‘I-I am so sorry…I’m so sorry…’ you sobbed, leaning on his shoulder.
‘Don’t be sayin’ sorry…I knew it would be hard on ya comin’ into work like this. You don’t let people help ya enough…’
‘I just wanted to prove to myself that I could handle it…that I was strong enough…’
‘You are so much stronger than ya give yourself credit for. You understand me? Not many women could work in an office full of guys with personalities as big as theirs. Come on now…as soon as work’s over, I’m gonna take care of you, y’hear?’
‘Okay,’ you nodded, your voice barely a whisper.
‘That’s my girl,’ Tsumugu remarked softly. ‘Come on, what do ya say we go back together? You got Seasonelle pretty worried, not that it surprises me. They all love ya too much for my likin’. I can get why, but I wish they didn’t have to see it,’ he remarked, making you give a weak smile and laugh as Tsumugu smiled kindly at you.
‘Finally, there’s that beautiful smile,’ he breathed, tucking your hair behind your ear before helping you to your feet.
As expected, when you returned to Seasonelle, you were wrapped up in several hugs, though Tsumugu kept his distance, as soon as work was finished, he wrapped you in his arms and kept you by his side all night long. He would never let you feel alone…

Akiyoshi - You knew things were stressful for Akiyoshi. Having to answer to so many people in his position, it was natural that he would get annoyed with members of Seasonelle. But he cared deeply for all of his team and only wanted to see the best from them.
However, lately, you had been struggling with knowing that your Father’s birthday was coming up. Thanks to Akiyoshi working a lot of overtime, you hadn’t gotten much of a chance to see him out of work, so you couldn’t really talk to him about what you were feeling.
To make matters worse, you had been put on a new article which dealt with the families who were grieving after devastating tragedies and the effects it had on them, both negative and positive.
While you tried to write it from an objective point of view, you found it difficult to get into the mindset without personally inserting yourself into the article you were writing.
After trying to work on it for several hours one evening at home, you slammed down your laptop lid and put your head in your hands. You just couldn’t deal with it. It was too much.
Fighting back the tears, you had hoped that Akiyoshi would come home soon so that you could talk with him about it, but unfortunately, you were left with no option to do so.
You had really not wanted to broach the subject with him in the office. It would be difficult to explain your reasoning in a work environment when it was such a personal issue. Normally you wouldn’t mind, but given that Akiyoshi was your boyfriend, you knew he would react to such an explanation as your boyfriend before acting as your boss.
Going into work the following morning, you wondered how best to handle the subject when Chiaki and Minato approached you.
‘They’re doing a television broadcast on those who lost their lives in that explosion your reporting on. The funeral is going to be filmed, so we made sure it was available for you to watch.’
Feeling your heart sink as you heard the news, you felt trapped in a corner. How could you explain this to Akiyoshi now, when Chiaki and Minato had gone out of their way to help you out.
Before you could say anything, Akiyoshi joined you all, asking Minato for his new article and telling Chiaki that his interviewee had postponed his meeting before turning to you.
‘I trust they’ve informed you about the broadcast,’
‘Yes, but-’
‘It starts in a few minutes.’
Stopping you in your tracks, you felt as though you were reacting on auto pilot as you nodded and went to collect what you needed to take notes.
Trying to reassure yourself that you could handle this, you went to sit by and start watching the news coverage, only to find the other members of Seasonelle joining you.
‘This is a pretty big deal,’ Minato remarked, though you could already feel yourself getting emotional as you were shown footage of the families.
As the music began to play over the grounds where the deceased were to be laid to rest, you felt as though someone had put a vice around your heart.
Feeling your hand begin to tremble at the familiar music, you put a hand to your mouth and tried to shut out the feelings of overwhelming emotion.
‘Is everything okay?’ Shusei asked, looking clearly concerned as you shook your head.
‘Chief, I cannot do this article. Someone needs to take over.’
‘We are two days from deadline, where is this coming from?’ Akiyoshi demanded, his trademark growl coming through when you stood up and put your things aside.
‘I have been trying to tell you for days, but you keep brushing me off and now I am telling you I cannot do this a moment longer.’
‘You need to have a damn good reason why-’
‘Today would have been my Father’s birthday and this music was played at his funeral!’ you snapped, tears streaming down your face as the room fell silent, all but that music that pained you so much.
‘I can’t do this today…’
Grabbing your bag, you rushed from Seasonelle, ignoring the calls from your co-workers as you went down to the ground floor with that music still haunting you as you let out a sob.
Though as you got outside and rounded the corner, you were quickly grabbed by the wrist and pulled into a strong chest.
‘Let me go!’
Recognising Akiyoshi’s voice, you stopped fighting to get away as Akiyoshi pulled you into a tight embrace, the sound of your sobs making him feel wracked with guilt as he held you.
‘I am so sorry…this is all my fault.’
‘No, I shouldn’t have yelled at you…I didn’t mean too, I…I just…’
‘You don’t have to say anything. I understand. I’ve neglected to see you enough and because of that you couldn’t talk to me.’
Looking up at Akiyoshi, you could see his pained expression as he leant his forehead against yours.
‘W-What about the others?’
‘I told them I’d go after you as it was my mistake. They didn’t follow me,’ Akiyoshi reassured you. ‘Though right now, I couldn’t care less if they did.’
Nestling yourself in his arms, Akiyoshi promised that he would make everything up to you that evening.
‘We both will,’ you responded, seeing Akiyoshi offer you a gentle smile as brushed your tears away with the pad of his thumb.
‘I love you,’ he whispered, kissing you tenderly.
‘I love you too,’ you returned, making him blush lightly as you embraced him once more…

Kaoru - You were well aware that Kaoru knew about loss better than anyone and the effects that it had on people.
Though you would have initially thought that Kaoru would have been the perfect one to talk too about how you were feeling, you soon came to the conclusion that perhaps he wasn’t.
With your Father’s birthday falling on the following day, you had found yourself feeling despondent and saddened by the memories you held of your Dad’s last weeks.
While you knew that Kaoru would likely understand what you were going through, you found it difficult to bring the subject up.
Working on a new article in order to distract yourself, you were surrounded by various documents in the living room as you typed away on your laptop.
You had barely heard Kaoru come in until you saw him put a mug down on the coffee table.
‘You’re working a lot tonight…’ Kaoru muttered, glancing over the papers as you nodded.
‘Yeah, Akiyoshi wants to see the first draft soon, so I figured I’d best get started…’
‘Mm,’ Kaoru responded, seemingly distracted by the subject of the article, though you didn’t notice the way his eyes kept glancing in your direction.
Once Kaoru had given you a small kiss on the top of your head, he left the room without another word, leaving you breathing a sigh as you sat back and ran a hand through your hair.
It was only when Tama came into the room that you became more distracted.
‘Hey Tama,’ you smiled softly, ‘Kaoru isn’t here,’ you remarked, though the tabby cat seemed more interested in you as she easily leapt up onto the sofa and wandered onto your lap with a small “meow” in the process.
‘You’re making it kinda difficult to work around you,’ you remarked, though in all honesty, you didn’t really mind. Tama had a soothing effect on you, just as she did on Kaoru.
As you sat stroking her absent-mindedly, her purr was allowing you to unwind a little, though it also brought your guard down as your mind began to wander.
Before you knew it, midnight came and went, the date on your phone changing to show the same date as your Dad’s birthday.
‘Happy Birthday Dad…’ you whispered, feeling the tears that began to slip down your cheeks as you thought fondly of your Father. Wishing you could tell him how you felt…how much you loved and missed him, you realised just how emotional it was making you as a couple of teardrops fell on Tama’s back.
‘Sorry Tama,’ you uttered, though the cat only nuzzled your hand in response as you managed a small smile.
Though after a few more minutes, the cat got down and left the room, leaving you alone as you pulled up a cushion and wrapped your arms around it, trying to keep silent as you continued to cry.
Though the next thing you knew, the door was parting again, letting in a little light from the kitchen. But your assumption that it was Tama was entirely wrong as you found Kaoru kneeling in front of you with concern etched across his features.
‘You’re crying…’ he muttered, reaching up and brushing away your tears with his slender fingers as he observed your expression.
‘I’m sorry…I didn’t want you to see me upset.’
‘Why?’ he asked, clearly confused by your remark as he wrapped his hands around yours.
‘I didn’t want to bring back bad memories for you…today is, well, would have been my Dad’s birthday,’ you explained, seeing Kaoru’s eyes widen in understanding as his grip tightened slightly.
‘You were going to try and go through it alone…? Hide how you feel?’
‘I didn’t want…I didn’t want you to feel…’
Unable to process your thoughts into a coherent sentence, you were suddenly stopped as Kaoru got to his feet and momentarily left the room.
Thinking he was mad at you, you could feel your emotions getting the better of you when Kaoru returned with a comforter and pillow.
Sitting beside you, Kaoru wrapped you up in the comforter and pulled you into his lap, using the pillow to cushion you both as he encouraged you to lie with him on the sofa, wrapped up in his arms.
‘I’ll hold you until you feel better. Until you smile again…’ he whispered, his voice gentle and soothing as you buried your head in his chest, gripping his shirt as you whispered your thanks.
‘You don’t need to thank me…I love you…’
‘I love you too,’ you whispered, feeling your tears begin anew as Kaoru gently ran his hands through your hair, holding you close until you tired yourself out and fell asleep. Throughout the following day at work, Kaoru would keep close by your side, ensuring that you were okay. You were too precious to him to ever lose that smile he adored so much.
You had always helped him throughout his painful experiences and now, he would help you through yours.

Chiaki - You knew Chiaki could be a terrible tease when he wanted to be. But right now, you couldn’t handle it. No matter how many ways you had tried to cope with anniversaries like your Father’s birthday, nothing seemed to help. Going to work and losing yourself in your writing, staying off work and trying to do meaningful things.
It all resulted in you feeling pained and upset. You were so sensitive during this time and Chiaki had yet to experience it. So his naturally suggestive behaviour was not helping much.
Finding it difficult to tell him, you had never been good at talking about your Father. You missed him so much and would have given anything to see him one last time.
While you were prepping dinner in the kitchen that evening, Chiaki came walking into the kitchen and slid his hands around your waist.
‘Hm, what’s my little songbird making for dinner tonight?’ he asked, his voice warm in your ear, though you shrugged him off.
‘You’re being awfully cold this evening…’
‘Sorry,’ you mumbled, trying to focus on the task at hand as Chiaki became curious by your standoffish response.
‘Bad day?’
‘It’s nothing…’
‘Why do I get the sense your not being honest with me? Perhaps I should try and coax the truth out of you…’
‘Chiaki, stop!’ you snapped, rounding on him and realising in an instant that you had come across much harsher than you intended.
‘Please…’ you implored, ‘I can’t do this right now…’
Seeing the hurt in his eyes, you felt terrible as Chiaki walked away, giving you your space as you turned back to your cooking.
With things now bothering you more than before, you soon cut your finger while prepping some vegetables.
As the pain throbbed in your finger, you quickly rinsed it off, though Chiaki was soon at your side again upon hearing the sound of you in pain.
Getting a bandaid, Chiaki quietly dressed the wound for you, before bringing your bandaged finger to his lips and pressing a gentle kiss upon it.
‘I’m sorry…’ you whispered, ‘dinners ready, you go ahead and eat, I think I’ll eat later.’
Going upstairs before Chiaki could stop you, you felt his eyes on you as you returned to your room and shut the door. Sinking to the floor when you got by the bed, you pulled out an old box from underneath it, the writing somewhat faded, though you knew exactly what was inside.
Lifting the lid, you pulled out an array of old photo’s. Some of your Mother and Father together, some of you as a little girl with him.
The photo’s brought back so many memories. Memories that seemed like a lifetime ago…The thought of it broke your heart as you traced shaky fingers over the photo’s in your hands.
‘I miss you so much…’ you whispered, your voice trembling as the tears threatened to fall.
‘Please come back…’
You knew it was a wish that could never be answered…but you asked for it all the same, the thought of it breaking you completely as you broke down in tears.
Letting out a sob, you ran your hands roughly through your hair in frustration at yourself. Even after all these years, how could one day hurt so much.
Hearing the door open in one fluid motion, Chiaki was shocked to find you huddled up on the floor, surrounded by photo’s and crying as he quickly approached you and fell to his knees at your side.
‘What’s wrong?’
Looking up into his eyes, Chiaki could see the anguish and heartache that lay in your wide eyes as he enveloped you in his arms, feeling his chest tighten.
Why hadn’t he seen it sooner?
As he cradled you in his arms like a delicate piece of glass, Chiaki stroked your hair softly, trying his best to soothe you as he realised how pained you must have been when you had done this for him.
‘It’s okay…tell me what to do…what can I do to make it better?’
‘I miss him Chiaki…I miss my Dad so much,’ you sobbed, the pieces fitting together as Chiaki took in the images on the floor. ‘He should be here, celebrating his birthday…why can’t he be here?’
‘I know it hurts…I’m here…what can I do?’ Chiaki asked, his voice fraught with worry as he held you close.
‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry I got mad. I’m sorry…I…’
‘Shh, stop apologising. I should have realised something was wrong…’
‘Will you stay with me?’
It wasn’t even a question that required an answer. Chiaki would have done anything for you without a second thought. You were so precious to him and you were in pain. He hated that he hadn’t realised what was going on sooner.
‘Always,’ he responded, lifting you up onto the bed so that you would be more comfortable as he joined you and wrapped himself up with you.
Trailing a hand through your hair as he put his arms around you, you rested your head against his chest, the feel of his heart soothing you as Chiaki took care of you.
Placing tender kisses where each tear fell, Chiaki took it upon himself to protect and care for you throughout the night and next day. You were more important to him than you would ever know and he would always protect your precious love, your beautiful smile…  

I think Tsumugu’s pretty much broke my heart… I love him and Shusei so much <3 I’ve been so grateful to have a rainy day in order to write this. It took longer than expected, but I’m glad I was able to finish it today. 

Thank you to everyone who supports my work and writing on here. It means so much, especially right now. I still can’t get over how much love my work gets. It really is incredible. It inspires and motivates me so much, so thank you <3 

Something new will be posted tomorrow. I’m not sure what yet. I fully intend to be writing all day tomorrow. So I’m hoping to get more than one post on here, but I have a couple of updates on Fanfiction which are in a severe need of an update and I should also really start typing up chapter one of my new book. 

So much to do.. Anyway! Thank you all for reading! 

Much love and goodnight! 




Excruciatingly Painful? Definitely.

Aloha! My name is Serenity, and I’m honestly very glad you came to read my little piece of work. I decided to publish it after I wrote it for a prompt thing between my friends, @flannels-and-rocksalt and @gryffindor-ryan (Go check them out, if you’d like!). I know that anyone who’s really reading this is probably bored at this point so I will leave you alone now and let you read. Okay? Alright. Bye!

Summary: Castiel learns about the hell that an average woman goes through every month when you, his girlfriend, requests that he picks you up a box of tampons.

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

Word Count: 984 words.

As a side note, if anyone gets the reference, feel free to tell me! I don’t own the dialogue from the movie, and I changed it a bit to sound more like Cas, but you should get where it’s from.


You groaned, flopping onto your bed. This sucked. Who’s bright idea was it to make women go through the menstrual cycle, anyway? God? Well, God can go shove his head up Lucifer’s ass. Of course, you have every right to be upset. You’re basically completely out of supplies. No tampons, no Midol, no chocolate. You crossed an arm over your cramping abdomen, using the other hand to feel blindly for your phone.

Your fingers brushed across the cool glass screen. Bingo. Your fingers wrapped around the pink fuzzy case that you had on it, pulling the device to your face so you can send a quick text. Your thumbs flew across the digital keyboard, intending to send your boyfriend, Castiel, a desperate cry for help.

Cas, help. I need you to run to the store really quick and grab some tampons for me.

It was almost instantly that you received a reply.

Tampons? Isn’t that the pudding you like?

What?? No, that’s Topeka. I don’t feel like explaining this right now. Ask Dean or the store clerk or whoever. But just get the regular ones.

Okay, my love. Whatever you need.

Thank you! <3


Cas furrowed his brow, looking around the room. Dean was on his laptop with a beer in his hand, and Sam had his nose in a book. He decided Dean was his best option.

“Dean, what are ‘tampons?’” The man in question shot his head up, his eyebrows raised.

“Do you really want to know this, Cas? I mean, it can get pretty gnarly.” Castiel nodded, his expression firm. “Alright. So, tampons are these things used by girls once a month during their periods to soak up the blood that flows from their- uh, no. I’m gonna start again. Girls use tampons to stay clean during their period. Anyways, once a month a woman’s system flushes out blood and tissue in preparation for the possibility of a fertilized egg, and they deal with some pretty crappy side effects for the whole week.”

Castiel tilted his head. “I do not understand what you mean by ‘side effects.’”

“Basically? They go through mood swings, some girls cry at everything, they get cramps and back pains and they get tired, and sugar seems to help sometimes.”

Cas looked horrified. How could she handle such torture once a month? Based on what Dean had told him, his Angel was going through such pain and suffering, and he did not know how to make it better. “How can I make it less… excruciatingly painful for her?”

“Buy her things that she likes, I guess.” Cas considered for a moment. Buying her the things she likes? Well, chocolate was a definite. What else? Cookies? Pie? Alcohol? As he moved towards his Pimpmobile, Cas went over a the list of things he knew that Y/N liked. The drive to the convenience store was not long, and shopping went equally as quickly. The biggest problem he had was getting the tampons, but he recalled you requested “regular” ones, so he just grabbed those. Castiel’s attention drifted to the two adolescent men giggling at him like children from near the checkout counter. One of them spoke up as he got nearer.

“Dude, are you having a not so fresh day?” The other laughed in response.

“Do you find it funny that I am buying tampons?” At this point, now both of them were laughing at the angel. Cas looked at the box in his hands, then at the chuckling boys. He recalled a situation very similar to this one, perhaps it was a movie that Y/N had made him see. Rather than waste time, he recited the line he felt was supposed to come next.

“Do you realize that my purchasing of these products means that there is a woman with whom I am so intimate that we are both comfortable with me buying her most intimate possessions? This means that our current relationship is so stable, so trusting that I feel no sort of embarrassment in doing this at all. It means instead of hanging out at a grocery store and having a ‘sausagefest’ with another guy or doing a little homosexual oral sex, I am experiencing coatis with a beautiful woman.” With that, Castiel raised the box, set it on the counter with everything else he planned on bringing to the beautiful woman he spoke of, and accepted the high five that the cashier offered him.


You groaned at the knock on the door, not bothering to move. You heard the door open and the familiar hum that was Castiel’s deep, gravely voice.

“Y/N? I have things for you that you requested.” With a sigh, you rolled from the comfortable position in your bed that you had finally found. Your tired and pained shuffling led you straight into his open arms, listening to his heartbeat and the sweet little words of encouragement for you to survive the rest of the week. He kissed the side of your head, right above your ear. You caught sight of the plastic bag that seemed to have much more in it than just a box of tampons. You reached for it, pulling out three different types of candy that you liked, five bars of chocolate, Barefoot wine, ice cream, pain medication, and finally, tampons.

“Aw, Castiel. That was so sweet, thank you.” You didn’t have the chance to say much, as you were already halfway through unwrapping the first chocolate bar and raising it to your mouth. Cas was always criticized for being an angel with no feelings, but come on. You know that’s a lie. He hugged you a bit closer, combing his fingers through your hair while you chewed on the sweet melted chunk of amazing that was on your tongue.

“Of course. I love you, after all. I will gladly make this experience easier for you.”