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my-stories-vault · 3 months ago

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Chapter 12 ~ The Supernatural Wars.

Pairing: English Dean Winchester X Y/N L/N

Blurb: When the residents of this Earth found out that they were but a draft in God's numerous stories, they decided to make noise in hopes that their creator would return. Nothing can be louder than the begs of the powerless, the cackles of the ruthless, or the unending destruction left in the wake of the most merciless wars any universe can ever see—here the bloodshed never ends. So, tell me how can two young soulmates, then, find love's shade of red under all this crimson gore?

Warnings/Trigger Warnings (18+): Language, gore, voilence, major and minor character deaths, thoughts of suicide (not graphic), substance abuse (alcohol and cigarettes), mentions of wars (I mean, it's in the name).

{ Series Masterlist ; Main Masterlist }

Chapter 12: Lodge Me A Date.

Dean was pining.

You and he were on the outs.

Your first fight as a sorta couple didn't happen for months. Not until you both came to Australia and you tried to throw him a lowkey, very late dinner on the second night, after Dean had had a gruelling day dealing with the masses. You'd only wanted to do something nice for him, something epic like he did often.

So you'd readied the dinner by hiring a local chef and you had her cook all the comfort foods of the native land: Vegemite toasts (which you learned shouldn't be spread like peanut-butter), a mince beef and gravy pie, a sausage sizzle (or a Sanga, as Chef Beth had been graciously explaining everything, is barbequed beef sausage wrapped in bread and sauce), there are the hamburgers and the classic fish and chips, and something called the fairy bread that is served during birthday parties. You also went to the local bakery, while Beth put on the finishing touches, to buy finger buns, vanilla slices, and lamingtons - all Aussie desserts.

You were starving, just listening to the menu. The lovely Beth had helped you carry the food to the back garden in an out-of-commission maze, the route to which was out of sight of all the bedroom windows of the rooms where the Leaders were sleeping.

'You know the way back out right?' she asked, her Aussie accent pleasant to your English ears. 'Because this is creepy.'

You laughed softly. 'Your life's safe in my hands, Ms Olivier.'

She helped you bring everything out by midnight. By the time you brought her out of the maze one last time, Dean was approaching you.

'Hey,' he said. 'Found this in my pocket,' he said, holding the chit you'd slid him, glancing at Beth.

'Yes,' you giggled. 'Thought it'd be romantic.'

Dean's lips twitched with a smile, but he glanced at Beth again.

'You're secret's safe with me,' Beth said. 'Signed a non-disclosure and everything.'

You shrugged. 'Thought I owed you one,' you told him. 'We didn't need to do the Convention. You hate crowds. But you did it anyway. For me. The least I can do is spring for dinner, with the help of Ms Beth Olivier here.'

'If I may add,' Beth chimed in. 'You were splendid today. Had the crowds in stitches.'

Dean was bashful, scratching his neck shyly.

'Well,' you said, a tad awkward now. 'I promised Beth we'd pay her in exchange for a hearty meal, but she said she'd take a picture with us instead.' You glanced at Dean, a little worried: 'I hope that's okay?'

Dean smiled genuinely. 'Ms Olivier helped us steal a quiet moment and a dinner—we'd be happy to take a picture with you, Beth.'

She chuckled excitedly, leading you both to a well-lit spot and striking a few poses with you two.

'Thank you,' she laughed. 'I've never taken pictures with live soulmates.'

The halting, awkward laughs that spluttered from you two were so not dignified, along with the words that tumbled over one another.

'We're not—'

'—Soulmates,' Dean completed. 'Not even my girlfriend.'

'We can't be. It's, like, impossible.'

'Oo-kay,' she smiled weakly. 'My bad, total foot in the mouth moment,' she smacked her lips. '. . . You guys just have this incredible chemistry. And since you're dating, I thought—'

'I just can't be his soulmate,' you forcefully said. 'Okay?'

'Yeah,' Dean's grin was strained. 'She can't handle me,' he nudged you playfully.

'I—will be leaving now,' she threw a thumb over her shoulder. 'Have a nice evening?'

'We will.'

Then she firmly shook your hands, thanked you both for your Leaderships and went towards the garage where you had a cab waiting for her.

You guided Dean on the well-worn path of the maze.

'A labyrinth is an interesting choice . . . for a date,' Dean said, arm crossed with yours, his heart pattering nervously.

'Wait, we aren't labelling this, are we?' The note of panic in your voice disheartened him.

'I guess not.'

'I mean, I'm still against marriage, you know?' you said.

'What, you'll never change your mind?' Dean tried jokingly. 'I mean, to be honest, you freaked a little too much about the soulmate thing.'

'Can we not talk about that?' you said sharply. 'Let's just focus on the nice food and nicer company, yes?'

'Yeah.' But his mind was in a well of disappointment now.

You led the conversation back to Europe and told him about your phone conversation with Sebastain and Baz, updating him on everything you two were missing. You managed to distract him a little with some well-placed jokes, and then you told him about the Percy Jackson series that you'd been reading in your spare time and how you were scouring other Universes' journals for fun alternate versions of your lives.

Dean especially enjoyed the food—your history lesson on the said foods might've been grating, but he thinks it all stemmed from his earlier grievance.

You noticed it slowly, when you ran out of things to share and Dean wouldn't pitch in. You got to observing him, but he was unreadable.

On the walk back, you hesitantly broached the subject. 'Are you okay?'

'Yeah. Fine,' he said.

'How was your day?' you tried another angle.

'Not the worst.'

'But the dinner cheered you up, right?' you asked, eager for his approval.

He sighed your name. 'I'm tired, all right? Dinner was good, but I just don't want to talk about it.'

Your mood soured as well, and you went quiet the rest of the way as Dean escorted you to your room. It was dead silent in the house, and everyone must've conked out from the exhausting day. He opened your door for you, you turned for the usual good night kiss he would sweep you in but he just nodded and muttered a lame good night.

'All right, that's enough,' you whispered, pulling him by the wrist into your room. 'Are you mad at me about the soulmate thing?' you demanded as soon as the door was shut.

'Oh, so you can read a room,' he said dryly.

You crossed your arms as your lips tugged downwards. 'What's on your mind? Spill.'

Dean sighed. 'We don't have to talk about this, okay? You're off the hook, we said we wouldn't label it.'

'Yet it bothers you.'

'That doesn't matter,' he insisted.

'It matters to me,' you argued.

'Why?'

'Because you're . . . different,' you said. 'You . . . I don't like your mood.'

'Do you know how many times I've handled your mood swings?' Dean threw back. 'I have one, and suddenly, you can't handle it.'

'That's not what I said,' your frown deepened with the sting.

He set his jaw, trying not to utter anything he'd regret in the morning. 'I'll be fine by the morning,' he said in a measured tone. 'You don't have to worry about it. I can handle myself.'

He stepped towards the door, and you blocked him. He shot you a warning look.

'You can't leave until you tell me what's wrong. And we fix it,' you stood your ground.

'You can't fix it,' he said. 'These are my emotions, you can't just magically fix them.'

'We can fix the problem,' you countered. 'Clearly, the soulmate thing is eating up at you. So let's talk about it.'

Dean stared at you defiantly.

'I'll go first,' you said. 'I'm not blind. I know that all the other Leaders have soulmates. It's a rare phenomenon - some believe it's from the prophecy. But I can't be your soulmate because I'm a Temp.'

Dean nodded slowly, 'No offense, darling - you've never sounded stupider.'

'Hey!' Plenty of offense taken. 'Just because our views don't match, doesn't make me stupid.'

He could think of numerous other situations where you'd been stupid, like when you supported your parents. Prickles of anger twinged his chest, and he couldn't understand why he was even talking to you. You were impossible to deal with, and such a fucking brat!

You don't mean that, a voice cautioned him. You're just angry. And when he was angry, he was mean. If you'd only let him through, he could be calm about all of this in the fucking morning . . .

'Dean,' you broke his reverie. 'Please just talk to me.'

'If you know what's good for you,' he said, 'you will step aside.'

'Or what?' your voice dropped to a deadly octave. 'Don't threaten me.' It seemed that your fuse had short-circuited as well. 'I don't believe in soulmates, Dean,' you said. 'Sue me for that!'

Alarm bells tolled in his head. He tried to step past you, but you literally levelled with the door to stop him.

Her funeral.

'You are the most exhausting person I know,' Dean scoffed, 'Did you know that? Did you know that I have to clear my head every morning just so I can deal with whatever bullshit you bring to the table that day?'

You swallowed, but you shook your head. 'You're lying. I can tell you're lying. You're just mad at me.'

'Or I'm telling you the truth and you're just too damn obnoxious to see it!' he snapped. 'I mean, how would you even know I'm lying or not? You're not my damn soulmate, are you? You're just a fucking Temp off the street. You will be gone by what? The end of the year?'

This time, you blinked back your tears. The sight suffocated Dean, but he was too far gone.

'You know what? Maybe I should go where I'm actually needed,' he suddenly said. 'I don't know why I bothered investing so much time in you, you're clearly a lost cause with broken intentions! Spending time with you has been a waste of my energy, hasn't it? Because this clearly isn't going anywhere!'

'Fine.' You stepped aside, finally. 'Be somewhere else then, if that's what you want.'

Dean hesitated, but he could sense more hurtful words off the top of his heart, so he stormed out.

And he wondered the entire night if he'd left you crying. In the morning, he woke up without a wink of sleep, his pounding headache a manifestation of his guilt.

He'd realised one thing about you - you didn't know how to fucking argue. What happened last night shouldn't have been so one-sided, and still, you let him go with his heart intact. He hated himself for it.

'You good, Dean?' Joanna asked him in the morning, as he poured himself a third cup of coffee.

'Yep,' he said, boiling his tastebuds with caffeine; his tongue should suffer for how he wielded it on you last night.

'You look like crap, dude,' Charlie informed him kindly.

'Thanks.'

They tried to pry him open, but in the end, they recognised his mood - it had been the same for five years. They'd actually been astonished that Dean had been happy at all, for the first two days of this Meet; it made sense to them that he would revert to his broody self soon enough.

Everyone eventually left him alone in the corner of the room. And he was the same depressed persona he had been - no one could peg the difference except Sam, and surprisingly, Seth.

'How's Y/N?' Sam asked, interrupting Dean's staring session where his eyes followed you around the room like they were leashed to you.

If you'd been affected last night, you sure as hell weren't letting it affect your work this morning.

Reluctantly, he looked up at his brother.

His mood dimmed further when he noticed how oily Sam's skin looked, his hair lacked their usual shiny gloss, and his face was sallow. He had two glasses in his hand.

Dean returned Sam with a framed answer: 'Great. Fun to work with.'

You two have been in Australia for three days now. The first day was the actual Meet and then some team-building hunts in Oceania (a bunch of islands off the coast of Australia). Then, Jack had made the After-Meet Party, a Leadership Convention, so you and Dean had done panels together for thousands of people for six hours, followed by photo-ops and signings. To deny the chemistry that has been live-streamed is dumb, so you both played it off as being best friends. (Even though you did try to play off the whole Convention as acting—still calling him "Mr Winchester" this morning; you made him want to strip himself off his last fucking name.) Today is the third and last day, where the Leaders have a common breakfast before departure.

Sam nodded, unconvinced by Dean's answer, taking a seat next to his brother. Dean accepted his glass.

'Seems too serious to me,' Sam commented. 'About work. And overkill, if I'm honest,' he said. 'Shrill. Kinda like her mother.'

Dean bristled at that. 'She's nothing like her mother,' he snapped, a thin film of anger overtook him, and he shot Sam a careful look. 'Don't ever compare her to that woman - Y/N's compassionate and selfless. She's . . . great.'

She isn't a screw-up like me. Yeah, at least you didn't unload on unsuspecting individuals when you were hurt. It wasn't your fault he wanted something long-term, and you didn't. You'd both decided going in that this was a no-strings-attached deal; he got attached, he got comfortable, he got hurt.

'Really?' Sam said, pretending doubt.

'Believe me,' Dean insisted. 'She's like a walking, yapping knowledge bank. And she is so fucking badass—saved my life a buncha times.'

'She seems so annoying, though,' Sam said.

'She's not,' he snapped again. 'She has her moments, all right? But she makes it better. She's . . . awesome. Anyone would be lucky to have her in their corner.'

Fuck, was he missing you right now?

He was regretting the fight last night, and he was really regretting what he did this morning . . .

'Right. Otherwise, you wouldn't be dating her.'

'Exactly.'

Wait. What?

Dean's gaze was ripped away from your direction, eyes widening. Sammy knew him too well sometimes. Dean was sitting with his brother on one end of the decent hall, dazzled to match the enthusiastic After-Meet Parties - so no one else heard, he hoped.

'How'd you know?' Dean hissed to his brother.

Both were nursing a strong dose of one of the most expensive whiskeys on the planet. It wasn't Sam's usual choice, but the little brother had been swayed to the benefits of alcohol, namely, temporary memory loss.

'You're happy,' Sam shrugged, sipping from his glass.

'Well, that explains everything,' the older man sassed.

'Well, you were. So, I have to assume that you're both in a fight?'

'None of your business.'

Sam raised his hands placatingly. 'Just trying to take an interest in my brother's life.'

Dean pursed his lips. This was not his day.

'Why are you trying and failing to hide it anyway?' Sam quirked a brow, the ghost of his old "little shit" smile gracing him.

'Because this isn't going anywhere,' Dean sighed. '. . . We haven't even been on a date yet, and it's been months,' Dean found himself sharing. 'After last night, she might just be done with me.'

Sam zipped his lips, following Dean's gaze to where you were laughing about something with B/F. He couldn't tell if you were faking it or not, while Dean could see the weariness in your eyes, clear as the flaming sun - it made him feel all the more horrible.

'I think you should ask her out,' Sam said after a beat.

Dean laid a critical eye on his brother, a seriousness engulfing him. 'You don't have to—With everything that's been going on, asking her out is the last thing on my mind, okay?'

It wasn't the last thing. Yet, ever since he'd seen his brother, he'd been torn. And you'd made, at least this decision, very simple for Dean, if not painful.

Sam scrutinized his brother. 'I know that look. It's your "I'm about to say something stupid look".'

Dean let the jab slide. 'I talked to Bobby this morning. I would be allowed to transfer to Asia.'

Sam frowned. 'I don't want to step down.'

Dean made a face of confusion. 'No, we would be the Leaders.'

'And Y/N's okay with stepping down?'

'She's not moving, Sammy,' Dean clarified.

'You want to do long-distance?' Sam leaned forward, contemplative. 'It works for Jody and Bobby, but aren't you like a touch-fiend?'

'Sam, you're not listening,' Dean said. 'Y/N doesn't want me.'

You made it clear that it wasn't going anywhere. After what he said, you'd break up whatever this was between you two, and he wouldn't feel conflicted about wanting to take care of his baby brother in his original Continent.

Yep, Dean's chest wasn't splintering at those thoughts . . .

Sam couldn't keep a straight face at that; his laugh was rough on his throat as if he'd almost forgotten how to laugh at all. The crinkles at the edges of his eyes were strained from being under-used. It made a wave of unease sweep in Dean.

'What?'

'Stupid,' Sam claimed. 'I was right.'

'Bitch.'

'Jerk,' Sam grinned reflexively. 'You think you can leave her,' Sam shook his head, chuckling about it.

'I can leave a girl,' Dean affirmed. His eyes darted to you; he didn't know they were tinged with fear. 'I was fine when Lisa left,' he didn't know if he was convincing himself or Sam.

He imagined setting off in another ship with Sam, and he imagined seeing you once every six months on occassions like this . . . Unless you stepped down, in which case he would never see you again.

Were his organs being pulled into a fucking vaccum?

Sam gave him a superior look, as if he knew something Dean didn't. It was that smartass look that Sam had carried all his life.

'Don't you see it?' Sam proded.

'See what?'

'She is to you what Jess is to me,' Sam said. It was all plain and clear to the hazel-eyed man: 'She's your soulmate, Dean,' Sam said gently.

Dean would like to think he handled that news like a pro. 'That's not—no, she's not!' he spluttered. 'She doesn't believe in that thing for herself!'

He made a very conscious and mighty effort to not look at you. Impossible, right?

If you were his soulmate, he wouldn't be sitting here, pouting his damn face off in the first fucking place.

Sam gave him a knowing look, sighing as he fished out two identical gold rings, topped with gold hearts. He handed them to his brother who looked like the rings were about to turn him into dust.

'Soulmate rings,' Sam said. They'd been of John and Mary's.

There were only seven pairs of jewellery to exist for soulmates. Sam and Jessica had matching bracelets like that; the rings were the only soulmate jewellery left that a couple wasn't using - it was Dean's now.

'Why are you giving these to me?'

'We have a feeling you'll need it to propose my sister some day,' Seth said, patting Dean's shoulder as he sat next to him. The gold soulmate chain dangling from his neck.

'You figured it out too,' Sam said in bemusement.

'My sister hugged me of her own free will and told me she missed me.' Seth seemed impressed. 'How could I not?'

Your respective brothers raised their glasses to cheers while Dean sat in the middle, utterly dumbfounded.

'You . . . Did you talk to her?' Dean wondered.

'About the soulmate thing?' Seth asked, answering himself, 'No, thank you. I like my neck on my shoulders.'

'So, you know,' Dean confirmed. 'You . . . Do you think she's my—?' He couldn't fathom. 'So, I wasn't overreacting? Y/N was. I mean, I was a dick, but I was right!'

'Now, see, your question implies I know what happened,' Seth said.

Sam chuckled. 'You know what? While you two bond, I should catch up with my sister-in-soul while I still have the time.'

'Good idea,' Seth said.

'Wait, but—'

'It's alright, Dean,' Sam said. 'We'll talk later.' Then, Sam added when he saw Dean about to protest, 'Don't worry about Asia. I have Donna, okay? I'll be fine, I promise.' He patted Dean's shoulder before leaving Dean with your brother.

Dean's gut churned and his throat tightened as he turned to Seth who had a sympathetic understanding, along with the same analytical look you got when you were trying to choose your words carefully. Dean was expecting something formal, perhaps, a warning, the "if you hurt my sister" bit.

But Seth surprised Dean entirely.

'I feel sorry for you,' Seth said.

Dean's brows pinched. 'You do?'

'That's not entirely true,' Seth held up a finger. 'You may as well be the luckiest man alive. I haven't decided.'

'You sister speaks in riddles too,' Dean said. 'I'm not a fan.'

'Fair enough.'

Seth flagged the waiter down and got two mugs of coffee from him, placing one in front of Dean (it was decaf).

'I need your attention, Dean,' he said. 'For what I'm about to say, chances are, Y/N might not in years.'

'What are you talking about?'

'Our family history,' Seth tempted.

Dean's widened eyes darted in your direction, still on the other side of the room.

'She won't be happy about that,' Dean considered. 'It's her secret.'

'No, friend, it's our secret. Hers and mine,' Seth said. 'She's not the only one with the family trauma, you know?'

Dean bit his lip, imagining the repercussions, but his avoidance wasn't big enough to curb his curiosity. Eventually, he nodded.

'Great,' Seth said. He took a deep breath and in his best Joey voice: 'Dean Winchester, you have been bamboozled.'

'Is that a—?'

'Friends reference?' he finished. 'Why, yes, it is. I like good shows. It is also to remind you that you've shown my sister that show. A show that I have been trying to get her to watch for fifteen years—a show that you managed to make her see in, what? Six months?'

'What does that have to do with anything?'

'I overheard you talking to Sam,' he said. 'Well, I overheard because I was trying to eavesdrop.'

Dean's brows slanted with mistrust, but Seth waived it.

'You would've done the same thing if someone was talking about Sam.'

Points for being the big brother.

'What I'm trying to say is,' Seth circled back, 'that you don't realise just how much control you have over her.'

'That's not true,' Dean said. 'I'm not trying to control her.'

'You're not,' he agreed. 'Yet you can't deny you both have this undeniable pull that'd make you both do just about anything for each other.'

No matter how much Dean concentrated, he couldn't debate Seth's claim.

'I have a soulmate,' Seth pointed out. 'I know I'm right.'

'You're just as annoying as Y/N, you know that?'

'All part of the L/N charm, I'm sure,' Seth laughed. 'But here's why she's the more annoying sibling: she doesn't fucking give up. She has . . . non-commitment-phobia, if you will.'

Dean's hand drew closer to his torso and his fingers clenched around his mug. 'She doesn't want to settle down, Seth. That's commitment-phobic 101.'

'Do you know Grandma Via?' he changed the subject, much like you would when you wanted to try another tactic.

Dean played along. 'Nice old lady. Passed away when Y/N was five. Spun fairy tales and bedtime stories.'

'Exactly, passed away twenty-one years ago,' Seth said. 'To this day, Y/N is adhering to a promise she made twenty-fucking-one years ago.'

'I don't understand.'

'Y/N didn't tell you the best part about Via, Dean,' Seth explained. 'She was a toxic fucking traditionalist. I hate her as much as I loved her.'

Dean blinked in surprise. 'What did she do?'

'When my mom was a child, she was kidnapped by traffickers.'

Dean's lips parted in shock, reacting to the hardened dismay in Seth's eyes by straightening his back.

'I didn't . . . I didn't know.'

'Grandma Via and Grandpa Jace - both absolute pieces of shit, soulmates in their own merrily misguided ways,' he said. 'When Mom went missing, they didn't bother to find her. Said it was part and parcel of being Leaders. They had every possible amenity in the world, and they didn't bother to find their own daughter.'

Seth didn't seem as rattled by it as Dean was. He never imagined that something as horrible could happen to a woman he loathed so much - it was disturbing in more than one way because he was actually feeling pity now. Seth calmly sipped on his coffee and went on.

'She was found by Aurora Stun, years later. The famous Governor who took down one of the largest monster rings that trafficked humans.'

'Layla Stun's wife,' Dean recalled you telling him.

'Yep,' Seth said. 'As compensation after returning to the human faction, mom was made the European Leader, along with—'

'My mom,' Dean nodded. 'I remember. But mom didn't know or say anything about what happened to your mother.'

'That's because she wasn't the neglected girl who simply wanted the attention of her parents anymore,' he said. 'She was now a traumatised woman who'd learned that her body would get her anything she set her mind to - and she'd set her mind on money. She wanted enough that she wouldn't be abandoned ever again.'

'That's horrible—what happened to her,' Dean said, meaning it with every fiber of his being.

Seth sighed. 'I suppose. She also makes up for it by being horrible to everyone in her life. She married my gambling father to whom money was most important; he would only cook for us affectionately when he saw Y/N and I conducting acts that would earn him more money in the future.'

'Like successful hunts,' he pieced together. 'Or being famous so you'd have more sponsers.'

'Yeah,' Seth said. 'Mother encouraged it. In fact, she took it one step further—I mean, how many times has my mother . . . offered Y/N to you yet?'

Dean's head jerked up in surprise and shame. 'You know about all that?'

His jaw worked, a glaze overtook his eyes - the same haunted look that resembled death; the one that Dean used to see in your face in the beginning.

'One of the reasons Y/N doesn't want to get married is because she doesn't want to bring anyone in her life - you know, as a son-in-law to our dear mother.'

'Why doesn't she just give up on her?' Dean had to ask. He knew the answer - family; he still had to ask.

'Brings me back to Grandma Via,' Seth said. 'She couldn't bear to see the lack of love betwixt my mother and father—wasn't how a couple should behave, she used to say. After Grandpa passed away, she went a bit . . . crazier, I guess. In her last year, all she did was take promises from Y/N and I that we wouldn't stop until we united our parents and healed them or some crap.'

'That's a lot to put on children,' Dean frowned, feeling the weight of those words as if he'd been there with you, years ago, making promises that's too much to keep for any human, let alone a child.

'She hasn't given up, Dean,' Seth said, swallowing the painful lump in his throat. 'She thinks that if she earns their respect and achieves the impossible, they would listen to her.'

'They won't.'

'I know that!' his voice raised an octave in exasperation. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself down before settling onto his last point. 'She hasn't changed in years - not until she came to Europe, not until she met you,' his desperation was dripping from his words.

Dean's orbs held utter disbelief for his fellow soldier. 'What can I do?'

'Show her true love,' Seth said as if it were the simplest solution. 'She's been loyal to the idea of familial love for two and a half fucking decades. Show her what family truly means.'

'Why would she listen to me?' Dean huffed, verging on a humourless bark of a laugh.

'You're her soulmate—'

'Yeah. Rejectable soulmate.'

'You're not listening,' Seth insisted. 'She doesn't leave. She cheated you into believing that she won't commit to you when she already has! And once she commits, she's not known to ever leave, Dean! She's fooled you and everyone in her life into leaving her so she doesn't have to. So she can keep defending people who don't deserve it.'

Dean's heart honestly broke, a chill zipped down his spine.

'I realise that you also have a right to reject her,' Seth said, searching Dean's pleadingly. 'And I won't ask you to attend to her when you have your own family, who actually loves you, to take care of. But I will have you know that I've done everything in my power to protect her from my family - she will never be as safe, however, as when she's with you. If you're willing, please, take her away from this life.'

A spoon clinked delicately on a champagne glass; it was Jody, calling for a toast. And neither older brother had time to end that conversation.

That night, on the homebound ship, Dean would be profusely apologetic, and you'd forgive him with a hug. In his mind, Dean would promise to protect you till the day he died.

1.5 months later . . .

Those three days was what Dean was thinking about when he stole a glance at you, nervous beyond belief. The entire ship home, Dean had contemplated ways to ask you out, now that nothing truly stopped him.

Except when he imagined you saying "no".

You wouldn't, he knew that now. Seth's words from all those weeks ago, had strummed his confidence to it's highest possiblities. A date was the perfect loophole - it wasn't a marriage and it wasn't a soulmate thing. He realised now that you hadn't rejected calling that night a date that day, you's panicked because you thought he'd label it . . . He won't be making that mistake again.

But he was still nervous. This would be his official date with his soulmate.

Softly, in the background, played Dean's rock music. Your head rested against the cool glass window of the passenger side door. You looked so exhausted; your eyelids shuttered down, but he knew you were awake because your eyes were moving beneath. You both had stepped off the ship and had been flagged into a case in the nearby city where your team had been wrangling with Ferals, a few dozen Ferals. You both were too high on adrenaline to actually sleep soon.

The fast passing moonlight illuminated your face now and again, the moon cutting through the trees to set your features aglow. Dean's gaze would stray over to you, no matter how much he tried to temper his fucking heart eyes. The lull of the Impala's engine, purring and revving, was a small cure for his anxiety.

Earlier, upon seeing Dean's car that Sebastian had been safekeeping, you had patted Baby's hood and greeted her with: "Good to see you, Baby", then you'd shot Dean a smile, slipping into the shotgun. Where she belongs.

You were curled up in your place, your knees drawn to your chest and your arms holding your legs against you, carefully relaxed, wearing white short shorts, a sky blue tank top, a black denim jacket and Dean's leather jacket that he had placed around you when he thought you were cold. Seeing you drowning in his large garment did things for him. The only thing that could trump it was if you were snuggled into him instead.

His eyes strayed to the road again, and in the side-view mirror, he noticed the cars tailing the Impala drifting apart and away. The first phase of his plan.

All this while, he was softly humming to his music, his head bobbing up and down, fingers tapping lightly against the wheel - all in effort to curb his nerves.

His dirty blond hair were tussled from his fingers running through them. The sleeves of his red flannel were rolled up to his elbows and his near stiff hands were fixed at ten and five of the wheel, his black t-shirt beneath rippling against him as he shimmied a little to Black Sabbath. All paired with freshly washed jeans.

A smirk curled up on Dean's lips when he felt the prick of being watched. He felt your eyes take him in with an unobjecting stare.

That went on for a while: silence, you dozing on and off and waking up back again to gaze at him which was the only time Dean wasn't observing you. And it might have gone on forever had Dean not steered the car to an unmarked road, off the trails that lead you both to Moldova.

'Wrong turn, Mr. Winchester,' your voice chimed in, all polite.

Color him irked.

'How many times do I have to tell you that you can call me by my name, darlin'?'

You smiled apologetically, 'Force of habit. It feels like I'm not used to taking your name anymore.' Except that one day of Convention in Australia, you'd been calling Dean as "Mr Winchester" for almost three months now. It was what was required to maintain your secret.

'Well, if that's the case, then I took the right turn,' Dean said, hoping you wouldn't kick his ass.

'How so?'

'I kidnapped you and now we are going on a date,' he said, with mustered confidence. 'Non-labelled but sure-to-be outstanding,' he added in a hurry.

You opened and closed your mouth, taking a few moments to process it; Dean's heartbeat peaked. He noticed you glance in the mirrors of the car to realise that your securities had left you both.

'What did you—?'

'I told everyone it's for a case,' he read your mind.

You smiled softly. 'Right. Hmm. Still unbelievable about Selina and Sebastian, eh?'

They have decided to get married in a few months' time. Selina was ecstatic when she conveyed you the news, and astonishingly asked you to be the Maid Of Honour. As a Leader, you'd been asked as a Bridesmaid before, you'd been asked to Officiate and all that, mostly because to have celebrities like you and Dean could be considered as one of the highlights. You and Dean would mostly decline because of your busy schedules unless they were Governors or highly decorated civilians.

But this was different, Selina and Sebastian asked you and Dean as friends, as close loved ones to be the Maid Of Honour and Best Man respectively. It was impossible you and Dean wouldn't do it for them.

'Y/N?' Dean broke you out of your train of thought. You'd lost yourself in your mind like you did sometimes. 'What do you think?'

Oh, right. He's kidnapping me.

You finally spoke, 'A date?'

'Yep,' he popped his "p", a mischievous look taking over his face and a carefree smirk covering for his anxious ass. He had to bite his lower lip under his pearly whites so his smile didn't turn upside down.

'About time,' you said, a smile threatening to break free from you mask of annoyance.

He didn't even know how to react to this; somehow this wasn't a situation he prepared for.

'You . . . won't protest?'

'I get what I want, Mr. Winchester,' you teased to make it sound like this were a business deal. 'Some things I get fast, like the monsters I'm hunting. And some things I have to wait for, like the only guy I ever liked,' your expression softened and the heat of your gaze stopped his heart for a moment, 'you.'

He chuckled brethlessly, blushing for once instead. 'You're awesome,' left him thoughtlessly. Then, reluctantly, 'You don't feel pressured, right?'

Your smile faded as deeper, fearsome thoughts tried to reason with you. You pulled your legs closer to your body. All you knew is that despite being angry, Dean stayed, he apologised and he made up for it in more than one way.

You knew that you weren't an ideal person - one day, he would tire of you and leave. But by not making it official, you'd been protecting your heart . . . you didn't see a point of it when you were hurting him in the process.

You wouldn't make the same mistake you did all those months ago. If it's a date he wants, you're going to date his ass off . . . in a non-creepy way, you thought.

'No, Dean, I don't,' you said.

It wasn't a lie - this was your choice, even if you were bracing for heartbreak in the future.

And under your smug, I'm-too-strong-to-have-give-a-fuck attitudes, you both were relieved - thinking the other person was happy.

'So, where are we headed?' you raised a brow, your tiredness waning in the wake of his announcement.

'Oh, it'll be while,' he relayed. 'I know you miss land dwellings sometimes, so I booked us a lodge - a place called The Druidian Housing.'

You recalled it as a series of magical lodges; one of the most famous spots for vacationing.

'Oh, that's wonderful,' you crooned.

'Wonderful's my brand,' he grinned, feeling excitement return to him full-force.

'We're going just for one night?' you asked curiously.

'A week,' he said. 'Thought we'd take our vacation days in one-go.'

You don't remember the last time you'd taken an "off". Even dinners with your family had felt mostly like work. You never took time for your own holidays.

As you melted into the seat, inspite of knowing better, you felt tender excitement bubbling in your gut—it was silly, but you wondered if Dean would allow you to sleep in, and if you'd get to avoid talking about work altogether, or if you both could eat dinner without keeping an eye on your watches . . . You wondered if you would forget time itself in Dean's arms.

You glanced at him once more, fondly, drowsily, because the promise of a bed was too special . . . And you wondered how this ordinary human could be magical enough to allow you to relax.

Could you be any more grateful?

You slept through rest of the car-ride. Dean had slept earlier that night while you'd been on a shift, so he decided some sleep would help you experience the full impact of the Dean Winchester effect (as media called it).

Dean gently took you in his arms, in a craddle-carry, after he handed his car over to the vallet. The Druid appreared as a short pleasant man, and he was extra friendly to Dean because he'd been the one to grant the Druids permission to start their Lodge business that would help them maintain and curate their magical portion of the forest.

In a few steps, he was ducking past the hanging creeper plants and entering a secluded spot where a breathtaking house stood. He was too excited to not share it with you.

'Rise and shine, darlin',' his deep baritone rumbled you out of deep sleep.

He half-wondered if you would punch him; he wasn't in a position to defend; but you were ushered into wakefulness with a calm breath.

'Whoa,' you yawned slowly, noticing the starry sky first and foremost. It looked like little diamonds studded into the black cloth of night.

Dean's lip twitched. 'Indeed,' he was looking at you.

Your e/cs drew down to his greens and the literal magic of the place undid your defenses. You both were awed by one another as if when your eyes had slotted against each other, you both had simultaneously struck jackpot.

'I think I can walk,' you suddenly whispered, afraid to shatter the beauty.

'I know.'

Yet he carried you up the stairs of lodge assigned to you. He only deposited you near the railing so you could stand on the porch and take everything in.

There was a seemingly endless straight line of lodges, left and right of yours, after entering through the leafy door.

'I can't see another soul here ,' you noticed even though you couldn't see the end of this hotel.

'The Leaf Door only opens to your lodge, and no one else's, if you wear this,' he showed you the string with a small dried leave with the number "205" etched on it. He gestured to you, and you realised that you were wearing one too.

'Huh.'

'Yeah. And there are people everywhere. We can't see them because they're magically hidden from us,' Dean smiled.

'So no one will know we're here,' you said, beaming at the man. 'You're very clever.'

'I try,' he grinned. 'Do you want to praise me more when you see the inside of the place?'

You giggled in that cute way you had, taking his hand in yours and passing through the lockless door. A single romantically dim light enlightened the whole cottage-esque room. You gaped at the woodsy and homey decor of the quiant place.

'The room makes itself a reflection of people living in it,' Dean told you, his palm perching on the small of your back.

Your eyes zeroed in on the bookshelf lining an entire wall, only cut in the exact centre, in the shape of a rectangle to fit a large television and it's speakers. The queen-sized bed faced that wall, in all its fluffy glory with a multitude of pillows on one side and a single lone pillow on what you assumed was Dean's side; the place even got your preferred sides right!

While the side of the bed didn't have anything above it but the ceiling, the bookshelf had a little extended roof and a ladder on the right side of the room. Dean reached for that area, and climbed the ladder first, whistling as the upper room came into his view.

'What is it?' you asked, too impatient to see it yourself.

'It's an open bathroom,' Dean laughed under his breath.

'No way!' you exclaimed, reaching his side.

And sure enough, the whole upper level was a freakin' bathroom. An open closet to one side, a Jacuzzi to another. At least the toilet had a door. There were candles everywhere. And through the batroom window, you could see a majestic lake.

'It's an illusion, through the window,' Dean replied to your unasked question.

You moved onto another. 'Is this open bathroom your idea?'

'It's every guy's idea,' he deflected, going red in the cheeks. 'We can have it changed if you want.'

You considered his offer, feeling your cheeks heat up, but you shook your head. 'It's fine. We don't have to be . . . naked or anything. Right?'

'R-Right,' he nodded vigorously. 'You're safe. Scout's honour.'

'Good. Is there a balcony here?'

You didn't wait for him to speak as you rushed back downstairs where you'd seen the ceiling to floor windows, mostly shrouded behind the classy royal blue curtains. They parted when you neared them.

'Motion sensors?'

'No, magic. The room can read us,' Dean said.

'Fascinating.'

The clean glass doors also divided automatically in the centre and the outside world was a luxurious cove. It must have been an illusion again, but the balcony had a deck. The deck was a platform that ended with a circle, the rest of the area was filled with water in which the petals fell. The petals were an autumn blossom, continuously falling from the imaginary trees above, they didn't fall on the circular part of the deck though - where the table was. A long wax wick sticking out the centre and blazing with unending fire. Two loveseats adjacent to one another and two empty golden plates and goblets.

'Candlelight dinner,' you smiled. 'This is amazing,' you said, feeling an overwhelming swell of emotion in your chest for Dean.

He slinked his arms around your waist and placed his chin on your shoulder.

'I did good, didn't I?' Hints of his pride bled through his words.

Instead of ribbing him as was usual, you turned in his arms, clasping at his nape, and rising on your toes to hug him tightly. You hid your face in the crook of his neck and closed your eyes to hold him for a long few minutes. Dean reflexively held you back, his cheek resting on your head. He let you stay in his embrace for as long as you wanted.

'I don't even know what to say,' you spoke after a good three minutes. 'This is . . . the most thoughtful thing anyone's ever done for me,' your voice quiets at the end, melancholic and pensive, 'I wouldn't even know how to thank you.'

'I'll be happy if you are,' he uttered, feeling mushy in your arms. Hell, he'd take this hug every day, without moving for minutes.

You rolled your eyes. 'You don't have to say stuff you don't mean.'

'But I mean it,' he persisted, tugging you closer as if there was space in between.

Your hands slid down his chest and he thought you were pulling away; instead, you slinked your arms around his waist, fitting perfectly against him. Your ear pressed against his chest, and he prayed you wouldn't judge him for his galloping heartbeat.

'I'm happy,' you mumbled. 'I'm very happy.'

You both tried the hot tub first, donning the swimwear from the closet that somehow fit you both just right.

You tried to look away from Dean's physique but you'd be lying if you didn't say that his shirtless figure didn't make you want to sidle up next to him and snuggle . . . and kiss his tattoos and touch every square inch of the skin available to your eyes.

He winked at you when he caught you staring and made you blush fifty shades of red. He sat on the opposite side of the hot tub to let you have some space, he was even respectful about his own ogling, i.e. he was fighting tooth and nail to keep his eyes above your shoulders.

You blew out a breath after a while, trying to relax so that the purpose of the hot tub was fulfilled.

'Is the water pressure okay?' Dean asked. Did his voice drop a notch and become more alluring somehow?

'Yeah,' you swallowed your squeak. 'This is great. We never get to pamper ourselves like this,' you said, wondering why you'd never done something like this before. You could sit in the water for ages and let it massage your muscles until you were a pile of goo.

Dean chuckled. 'We are taking an unscheduled holiday.'

That reminder made your face twist. Yeah, you could see why you wouldn't be willing to do this too often.

You sighed deeply, floating your hands on the water and watching the steam with a tad bit of longing. You almost wanted to contemplate your whole life and wonder why you couldn't just . . . be.

Later, once you both had pruned sufficiently, you both decided to change for the "official" date.

The bathroom was segmented into a his and hers sections, and both you and him picked a few items off the rack to try on.

Dean settled on a casual suit. He wore a white undershirt which showed through the open upper buttons of his black vest, and a smooth black jacket to pull the look together. He even wore dress slacks and socks and shoes, gelling his hair to style them back in gentle curves. He applied some light gloss on his lips and layer of powder on his face, trying not to overthink it. He cuffed his sleeves with the only links he found, they were shaped like the Impala.

'Dean?' your voice called right about the time that he was done.

'Yeah?' he stepped out.

'Can you help me with the strings?'

You'd choosen to go with a dress that flowed like liquid silver. It tied around your neck and a little lower on your back, otherwise sleeveless, and came down to your mid-thighs, clutching all your curves. You'd worn black knee-length heeled boots that could be laced shut at the top. Your make-up was mostly light, a little bit of everything except your shadowy eyes and deep red painted lips; your hair was let down, framing your face. Your earrings brushed your shoulder, a pair of large silver circles and a silver eagle pendant the would dip into your dress if you bend down enough.

'Is the dress too low?' you asked, panicky in the mirror while Dean stood stunned at the door of your changing room.

You hadn't noticed yet how Dean's pupils had dilated or how he'd swallowed. Oh, Universe, save me, ran through his mind. 'Nope. Perfect.'

'Really?' you tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear self-consciously.

'Mm-hmm,' he had to stop his thoughts from running rampart. This woman has me all turned about, he whined internally.

Your lips were pursed as he took the silk strings, tying them into a gentle knot that he wished he was unraveling.

N'uh-uh, he bit his lip. Think unsexy thoughts . . .

'You couldn't reach behind yourself?' he tried to tease, trying as much to avoid running his fingers up and down your accessible back, or letting them trail down to your delectable ass. He knew you were tickly, so it was a feat that he didn't have you squirming in his arms at this point.

'I don't usually wear cocktail dresses,' you said. 'I didn't know what knot would look good.'

'Why don't you wear it more often?' he asked. 'Except to save noses of men who I'd definitely beat up with you looking drop-dead gorgeous.'

Your burst of surprised laughter drove the insecurities out for a minute. He smiled with you, resting his hands on your hips—the safe zone, when he was done.

'I'm too muscly,' you finally replied.

Dean snorted.

'I'm serious,' you huffed. 'I bet your Lisa would make a prettier woman out of this dress.'

Dean rolled his eyes at the comparision. 'You do realise that she left me. Besides,' he whipped you around and then squashed you to him, making you giggle. He watched his hands caress your skin in the mirror, and felt you shivering. You tentatively glanced up and he had to tilt his head back to meet it. 'I like your muscles,' his hands came up to squeeze your biceps. 'You are like beauty with brains and brawn. I can rely on you to save me as much as I save you,' he smirked.

You sobered at that. 'Was it hard? Being in a relationship with a civilian?'

Dean tucked strands of your hair behind your ear. 'This is . . . somehow easier,' he admitted. 'You're as dangerous as me, and in as much danger as me - levels the playing field, you know? I don't worry that I'm not good enough for you.' As much, he withheld.

You cupped his cheek and he leaned into your warmth. 'You're better than me.'

'Debetable,' he chuckled in self-depreciation and kissed your palm, swallowing your protests with a kiss.

The dinner plates simply conjured food.

Dean got himself "The Winchester Special" and an American apple pie. He explained the science of his mother's love behind them.

'Grams used to make this,' you stared down at your dish in disbelief. 'I haven't had her Spaghetti and Meatballs since I was a child. She would cook it every Friday - so we'd know the weekend is coming, even if Friday isn't a thing for hunters. She was the only sort of parental figure I saw until after her death when I met my mom.'

Dean was bittersweet to your story; he could understand why you would want to hold onto the good in your Grandma. You saw good in everyone, despite the bad . . . No wonder she got saddled with me for a soulmate.

'And what's the story behind the PB&J?' Dean asked, trying not to dwell on how many ways he could be bad for you and you would never see it.

'Oh,' you smiled, a bit embarrassed. 'It's essentially the only thing I can cook. My father cooked for me sometimes, but . . . when I was a child, and my caretaker would forget my meals now and again, so I would sneak into the Palace kitchens on the unbearable nights and make myself this.'

'That's awful.' Like a gut punch.

'No, it was delicious. You know how anything tastes heavenly when you're hungry—it was like that,' you said, thinking he was talking about the sandwich. 'I guess,' you hesitated then, 'maybe it is a bit plain. You're a master chef and a foodie, must be silly for you.' You chuckled, looking a bit mortified, your hand retreating from his. 'You've been feeding me for a while, and I wanted to return the favour with my signature dish. And this is all I know to cook since before I met you.'

His heart melted a little, he exhaled from his nose. 'Of course I want to eat that—I meant, the caretaker thing. Why aren't you angry?'

You blinked at the unexpectedness.

'It made me strong, didn't it?' you said. 'I'm a Leader because of it.'

'There are better ways to raise a child,' he persisted. 'No one should have to go hungry!'

Your lips set in a defensive line. 'But now I can empathise with other people. I can fully understand their pain.'

'And yet no one can understand you,' he said. 'Did you ever think of that?'

Instead of snapping like you would have a few months ago, you reflected on his words.

'Can't you?' you finally asked, a tad timidly. 'Understand me?'

Dean's instinctive reply was to say that he would always understand you, but that would be a lie. He shook his head a little. When your face fell, he tried to salvage it.

'I don't mean I won't try,' he began. 'But if I say I understand when I haven't been through something that's even remotely the same, I would be wrong.' He paused. 'My parents doted on me. And I lost them, I don't think you'd fully understand me either.'

'If it's not about understanding, then why do people date?' you posed.

He offered you a rueful smile.

'It's about promising to support each other, even when we don't understand.' He shrugged, 'I guess.'

'That's risky,' you frowned.

'You just have to trust one another,' he advised. He felt a bit awkward doing it: after losing too many relationships, he was prone to second-guessing everything he told you.

'I don't trust humans a lot,' you mused. 'Or anyone, for that matter.' You eyed him critically then. 'Can I trust you?'

His brows furrowed. 'No one's ever asked me that before. They either trust me or they don't.'

'You didn't answer.'

'Are you serious?'

'I am,' you challenged, locking your gaze with his. 'Will you hurt me or not?'

Your e/c orbs were a curse for him. He was obliged to answer you, sans humour. His heartbeat paced up, and he was expecting you to laugh at his sincerity when he said: 'I'd die for you.'

As two people who were constantly fighting for their lives, death was usually a common gift. But it could also be meaningful if it were given up while saving another's life. It was an easy promise to make for Dean; he'd rather get a lobotomy than even imagine you dead.

Your lips curled at the edges, and you nodded. With the same energy, you said, 'Me too.'

The atmosphere did lighten soon. It turned to funnier stories, mostly Dean's, where you both laughed till the wine almost spewed out of your nostrils.

Dean took it upon himself to tick items off of your bucket lists, most of them your firsts that you'd accepted would always be part of your wishful thinking.

'It's so unfair,' you mumbled around a spoonful of brain-freezing ice cream.

It was a new day, and Dean was making you eat the whole tub of delicious ice cream while he plowed through one himself.

You were quite enjoying yourself, your mind alight with copious amounts of sugar and dopamine from the morning walk/climbing session Dean took you to. Later, you both had woven baskets and plucked flowers and mushrooms from the forest. Your biggest thrill, however, was when he allowed you to drive a short drive outside in his vintage Impala—he was teaching you more about cars. You had lunch after that. Then, you both baked a pie from scratch that was popped into the oven right now, waiting to be ravished, the flour from the small ingridient fight you both had was clinging in both your hairs still; the flour fight had led to a game of tag where you two had run around the lodge's garden like little children for a long time.

Turns out you both have insane stamina.

'You don't have any firsts,' you complained. 'I owe you so much.'

He licked his spoon clean. 'You don't have to keep tabs, Y/N.'

You petulantly swirled your spoon into the rocky road with extra brownies cut up in it. 'You've done everything,' you said. 'I must be so boring to you.'

'I'm having fun,' he disagreed.

He hadn't felt this free in ages . . . hadn't felt like his old self for seven years now, since he'd gotten that damned Mark. He could feel his dark urges receding in your presence . . . Amara receding in your presence. Your innocence was like an eternal light that shooed the literal Darkness away.

'There must be something you haven't done,' you scooted closer to him on the marble kitchen counter—the kitchen had appeared behind a secret doorway through the bookshelves as soon as you two decided on baking—placing your box aside to take Dean by his collar. He went with your hands, standing to his full height; he was tall enough to be a couple of inches longer even when you were sitting on a higher platform. He twined his hands around your waist so he could lean in and trace his nose against your jaw, resting his cheek against your shoulder and closing his eyes. When he talked, his lips moved against your neck.

'I miss being this mundane and uninteresting, okay?' he said. 'This is exactly what I wanted.'

'Truly?'

'Uh huh.'

You could feel the shape of his smile on your skin; it left gooseflesh.

'So there's nothing else you want to do?' you confirmed.

'I want to stay just like this.'

You grinned when he kissed the joining of your neck with your collarbone. 'That can be arranged.'

'Come on, please?' you pouted on another day.

'Would you look at the time?' he feigned horror, trying to lift from the cozy armchair, but you held him back by the wrist.

You were both slouched in the single, fluffed-up armchair where you were majorly on Dean's lap (he insisted). You had both watched the movie "Encanto" that way. Later, he'd bribed you with a book to keep you in his lap a little while longer, and he'd been listening to his music on his headphones while you two had been feeding each other the leftover pie whenever either of you reached the spoon. When the confectionery had finished, Dean had turned to you with a sleepy sigh and asked you if you were ready for bed, which was when you'd asked the unnecessary question.

'It's late, we should sleep,' he pretended to yawn.

You rolled your eyes.

'I will not freak out,' you promised. 'Just give me the number!'

He slouched back into his seat. 'I really don't want to.'

'It can't be that bad,' you said, expectantly.

'It's not fair,' he huffed stubbornly. 'You've only ever dated me.'

'Which means you know all the guys I've gone out with,' you pointed out.

He frowned at you. 'You really don't want to know.'

'But I really, really do,' you crossed your arms, waiting.

Cheeks pink, he whispered to you the number of women he's been with.

On a regular day, with regular people, his drive might've been something he'd brag about. During the date week, with you, it was plain wrong.

'Whoa,' you said in a hushed voice. 'Dude, you've gotten around. You're like a man-whore!'

His brows furrowed. 'How much sugar have you had?'

'Clearly not as much as you,' you stifled a chuckle at your own stupid joke.

Dean's lip twitched in amusement. 'You're taking this far better than I thought.' Perhaps, he'd been worried about nothing.

'Everyone has a past,' you shrugged. 'We've just got to pick the memories worth our time, eh?'

He considered you with fresh eyes. 'You're very forgiving, princess.'

'That's a new nickname,' you arched a brow.

He chuckled, flowing with the conversation. 'You're a Leader, a Royal.'

'Hey, then I'm the Queen,' you smirked.

He chuckled, 'Sure, Your Highness.'

'Blessings be with you, my—King?' you ended with an interrogation, bursting into laughter upon Dean's amused expression.

'Long as I'm your King,' he bestowed you with a wolfish grin.

'Alright, last activity of the checklist,' Dean said. It was around two in the night, nearing the end of the week. Dean had brought you to the porch and switched on the porch light.

'Okay,' you said. 'What is it?'

'Well, if you'd watch the movies I show you more closely,' he snarked, 'maybe I wouldn't have to explain every little detail.'

You smiled at him thinly.

'Anyway, first date ends when the guy drops the girl off at her house, and they kiss for the first time,' he grinned mischievously.

'Ah, so we're recreating that moment,' you chuckled. 'Alright, let's do this.'

'You do it,' he urged.

'Me?' You went to cross your arms but realised how Dean hated that defensive pose, so instead you tucked an errant strand behind your ear awkwardly. 'I don't know,' you said.

He helped you by stepping closer to you and taking you in his arms, your hands instinctively rested over his, sliding up until you were playing with the short hair at the nape of his neck. You glanced at him shyly, and he simply waited, watching you with a fond look, giving you time.

You hesitated, considering thousands of ways you could do this, and hating all of them. As if lagging, you raised yourself on your tippy-toes, and he leaned down with the same speed to help you.

Your lips met with that electrifying buzz that was always in the air when you were around him. Shocks ran up and down your body, despite having kissed him at least a thousand times before.

You made a conscious effort to move your lips and hands. He mirrored your movements and went with your lead easily; you both were moving like you were made from the same element, made for one another.

Dean's hands slid down your hips and down to your thighs, which made you tense: I'm not ready, came to your mind.

But you'd once again assumed wrong when he spoke between kisses. 'Jump up . . . so you . . . don't . . . feet don't hurt.'

You relaxed, feeling silly for judging him so quickly. You broke away from him, making a whine escape his throat: he was panting, eyes closed; he moved his lips down to your neck, unwilling to part his lips from your skin. His beard tickled you, but you breathily managed to whisper in his ear.

'Aren't I too heavy?'

He snorted, 'No.'

'I just don't want anything to dampen—'

'The only thing stopping me from kissing you is your silly chatter,' he groused.

You scoffed. To teach him a lesson, you jumped up suddenly. He nearly buckled with surprise, eyes wide, and he laughed at your revenge. Your boot-clad legs crossed around his waist, and you clung to his shoulders like a cat on the bathtub; he just barely adjusted himself so that you two didn't go toppling ass over tea kettle.

He laughed at your smug look, straightening, 'You're unbelievably infuriat—'

You smashed your lips to his, shutting him up. And his eyes widened before they fluttered shut against the sensation, his heart promising to beat out of his chest as you moved fervently against him. His hold on you tightened, slightly worried that his legs might not hold after all, his knees already shivering with the heediness of the kiss—of this demanding woman taking him for everything he is worth; and he'd gladly let you.

He knew Sam was right about you because of the feelings you gave him; no woman ever could. Never had, never will.

You were his, well and truly his. Just like he was yours.

You were submerged under your usual pile of pillows that Dean found excessive. You hadn't asked for a bedroom change, just as you hadn't asked to change the bathroom. But when Dean brought up snuggling during sleep, instead of recoiling like he'd expected, you struck a bet with him, a "compromise", you playfully said: if he could extract you from the border of pillows, at any point of the night, without waking you up, you'd throw out all of them forever.

It was absolutely ridiculous, ludicrous, atrocious, incredulous, exasperating—okay, yes! Dean had lost six times in a row. He couldn't believe that he was getting jealous of the accumulation of feathers that got to cuddle with you; he couldn't believe he'd agreed to the goddamned condition in the first place!

On the last night, he'd made sure you were lightly snoring before he began slowly hostage-taking your pillows and banishing them to the cold floor. One at a time, like the mastermind he was. He was on his sixth one, the most successful he'd been yet (and there were around ten) when he felt it.

The earthquake.

You shot up in bed, making Dean groan for more than one reason. Your hand flew to catch Dean's shoulder, your long nails dug into his skin.

'What's going on?' you questioned when the world stopped shaking after twenty seconds.

'Just an earthquake, I think,' his brows scrunched. 'A mild one. Maybe a side-effect of some Druid-magic—they do dubious spells all the time.'

'Oh, sorry!' You retrieved your hand finally. 'I didn't mean to—'

Your nail dents were already fading. 'It's okay,' he said. 'I'm fine. Except I lost,' he huffed, 'again,' he dramatically swept his arm over his eyes.

You chuckled, distracted by his antics. 'Told you to give up after the third time.'

'I don't give up,' he mocked you. 'Besides, this doesn't prove anything. I'm stealthy, and I don't need to prove it to you.'

You laughed this time. 'I never said you needed to. And, if you're gonna be this grumpy about it, maybe I'll do it next—'

The lodge rattled more vigorously than in the last earthquake.

'Whoa!' Dean said, flattening you against the mattress, securely by his side. 'Okay, it might be more than a spell.'

'Do you want to go out and check on the Druids?' you asked, reading his mind.

'Yeah, let's put something on first.'

As soon as you both stood up, another far more powerful wave rocked the lodge. You both fell to your hands and knees, onto the floor on your sides of the bed respectively.

The ladder leading upstairs broke, ruining the magic in the process. And it fell towards Dean.

You screamed his name in warning, but he'd already levelled himself against the wall, and you both watched the ladder splinter before his feet.

'I'm okay!'

But it was only starting.

The cause of all the earthquakes across the lodges became known to you as soon as a fiery red ball, like a meteor, came hurtling towards your lodge. You both saw it through the balcony windows. The side you'd been sleeping on.

'Y/N, RUN!'

Just like Dean before, you'd needed no prompting. You were already cartwheeling across the bed to reach Dean safely.

You only crossed halfway when the ball of fire slammed down into your candlelit dinner table on the balcony. The roof blew upon impact, and the walls crumbled as if made of cards. You both experienced the worst wave of the "earthquake" yet, as the ball created a crater in the ground. You were both tossed into the air like vegetables, Dean lower than you.

While Dean crashed back into the ground from where he'd been thrown, you tumbled right out of the house, through the weak wall, and disappeared into the nearby treeline.

A/N: Shoutout to the lovely @bettystonewell , or as you know her for this chapter, Chef Beth ❤️, for all her wonderful recommendations of the Aussie comfort food - thanks, darling, really appreciate it 🫂😘. Anyway . . . as you saw, I'm all fluffed-out, so, um, yeah—* Hides until next week, she's a survivor after all *.

Tag List.

@hobby27 @stoneyggirl2 @globetrotter28 @aylacavebear @emma1998sblog

@bettystonewell @jollyhunter

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gaylenightingale · 3 years ago

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Do Not feed your dogs chocolate! Ever!!!

Sesshomaru is ok. Don’t worry.

From the TUMBLR prompt for 26 Jun 22: Accidental Poisoning and Fluff

@inusessweek @snowinjuly-creator

June 26

Accidental Poisoning — Pure Fluff

@inusessweek.

#inusessweek #inusessweek2022.

“Honest Mom. I didn’t mean to,” the inuhanyou child whined.

“Inukimi is screaming, Inuyasha. She thinks you tried to kill your half brother.”

“I didn’t, Mom. I just didn’t know he was allergic to chocolate.” Inuyasha’s blushing face was hidden from his mother by his long hair.

“Why would you ever give Sesshomaru chocolate, Inuyasha?” Izayoi asked, trying to understand how this happened.

“Kagome said sumpin’ about it when we were walking to school,” Inuyasha squirmed. He definitely didn’t want to share this with his mom of all people.

Izayoi blinked her eyes as she listened.

“Kagome? The little miko girl?”

“Um-hum,” Inuyasha mumbled as he moved his feet back and forth nervously.

“And why did Kagome tell you to give Sesshomaru chocolate?” Izayoi asked patiently.

Inuyasha looked up. “Oh, she didn’t say to give it to Sesshomaru.” Inuyasha twiddled his fingers as he paused. “Well, not exactly.”

Izayoi took a deep breath and tried again. “Then what did Kagome say, Inuyasha.”

Izayoi was a bit worried that the young miko was trying to “slay a demon”. She smiled benevolently at her son.

Inuyasha’s tongue was thick. He was afraid to tell his mother. But he was also afraid he would get Kagome in trouble so he quickly blurted out, “ShetoldmetogivechocolatetotheoneIlove.”

Izayoi moved a bit in her chair as she played back the answer, slower in her mind. Then she said it out loud and slowly,

“Kagome told you to give chocolate to the one you love? Is that right, Inuyasha?”

The small boy blushed, hung his head, and mumbled, “Yes, Momma.”

Izayoi fought back the smile that threatened to overtake her face. She reached out and grabbed Inuyasha and hugged him to her chest.

“Thank you for telling me the truth, my little love,” she cooed. “I understand that Sesshomaru can have company now. Dogs and dog demons are allergic to chocolate but I heard he really likes beef jerky. Don’t you like that too?”

Inuyasha looked at his mother with big open eyes. His mother wasn’t mad. She was smiling.

“Yeah! I love beef jerky. I can take him some of my jerky!” Inuyasha ran off to get some of his jerky from his snack container.

Izayoi‘ s eyes followed after him. Smiling she laughed to herself, “Sorry Kagome. He’s heart belongs to another.” Still giggling softly she rose from her chair ready to walk Inuyasha to Sesshomaru’s bedside.

“Wait til Inukimi hears this.”

#inusessweek2022 #inuyasha #sesshomaru #au #accidental poisoning #fluff

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fantranslatorbychoice · 5 years ago

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Kakuriyo no Yadomeshi Volume 6 Chapter 4 - Secret Girls' Night-out

T/N: Hi y’all, it’s me again, it took a bit longer because I did my best to beta-as much as I could, but if it’s still wonky, I apologize, it's not like I get paid to do it lol also it's rather challenging when I had to convert my brain waves from Japanese to English to my native language and however those combinations work just to spew all of these out in sufficiently passable English. So I hope you all don't mind stuff like typos or inconsistencies with the tenses srsly even the original text has that and I just literally gave up evening out the tenses, like really apparently it's no biggie to have an entire paragraph in Japanese that both has past and present tenses (they mostly don't have future tenses) but if that happened in English some would just nitpick that shit out. I mean, yeah, for sure when I do editing and get paid for it I would, but if I'm just reading fanfics from writers who don't have English as their native language I just don't give a hoot, as long as the story's good, to heck with grammar, spelling and syntax. Srsly some non-native EN speakers get turned-off or even scared when nitpickers hit on their imperfect spellings or grammar or dictions, srsly honestly just give them a break, they worked hard to learn another language. I felt this even more so when I started learning Nihongo, like srsly as long as a person gets to say what they want to say even if it's not perfect in anyway, then that's more than enough for me. srsly I am forgiving like that. Also this chapter has more notes than usual, especially regarding Nihongo and stuff, so if you don't like it you can always move along lololol Also I gave up, I'm keeping the titles and roles in Japanese i.e. Odanna-sama, Wakadanna-sama, Bantou-san, etc. I'll just stick in more notes instead lol

Also if you like this translation, you can heart it, share the link, reblog, I just respectfully ask that DO NOT REPOST ELSEWHERE. This is my contribution to the scant English content of this fandom, and I worked really hard to finish this thing, it’s not like I just copy-pasted everything. I even had to build the kanji in Jisho one by one. Try it and you’ll see what I mean.You can rave about this, rant about this, but if possible please link back to this page. If you’re unsure how to do that, just copy the web address of this page. If you’re on a blogsite just insert the web address as a hyperlink as a link back to here. Honestly if this light novel was officially-published in English, I wouldn’t even be doing this right now... And if it did, I’d take this offline to support the publishers and Yuuma-sensei. Creators support creators, is what I believe in. As previously-mentioned in earlier chapters, if you stumbled upon this one, the two seasons of the anime covered volumes 1-5, so other than the extra details, you didn’t miss much stuff. OK, with all of that out of the way, here's Chapter 4 now. P116 "Th... These are... The Southern Lands' cultured Japanese amberjack**... A bundle of Kiseki beef.. And there are so many other local products from the Southern Lands too. Ah, there's even the coconut oil that I always wanted!" So many extravagant ingredients have been hauled into Yugao, and I was flabbergasted by them all. There were also so many cans of various contents as well as dried fish and other products stuffed inside. Canned tuna and other canned stuff were considered as high-end products in Kakuriyo, and I am very grateful. Ginji-san and the Daruma gang from the kitchens delivered a box packed with so many ingredients to Yugao, and we had no idea why. "Well, the Dog said that these are their repayment to our kindness. It's because a while ago, Ranmaru came to Tenjin-ya." "Really, Ranmaru from Orio-ya?" "Hatori-san also came too, with him." In some way, Ginji-san's mood was good. For a while now, his nine fluffy tails were wagging from left to right. "It's from our head accountant Byakuya-san, Aoi-san's rewards for your achievement, and for Tenjin-ya's cooperative business venture and all sorts of other demands that were deemed justifiable, and because they wanted to give other things as a way of expressing their gratitude, they brought in many other souvenirs and products as well. They also exchanged with us various other information." T/N: This is related to tuna fish, but don't ask me how they cultured it. Probably in the open sea, like in sea cages. Yes, that's a thing, and yeah I was also in the fishing industry at some point in time, if you're wondering. Also if you're wondering why I rarely use "you" in the dialogues of the translations, it's because in polite Japanese conversations, instead of saying ANATA or OMAE= you, one's name is mentioned instead. In the original text, when people are talking to each other, rather than say "you" they say the other person's name or occupation + san instead i.e. bengoshi-san= lawyer san, Ginji-san, or if it's a username because they don't like using their true names- USERNAME-san. Because using "you" in any way, shape or form in conversations is deemed rude AF. So the next time you chat with Japanese people, please remember to address them by their name, or occupation, unless you've established rapport with them. I forgot to put this explanation in my earlier posts, but it's one of the most important stuff I learned in my Japanese classes, the Japanese folk won't care so much on grammar but more on being polite and taking care of remembering social status stratification aka just be polite by using polite terms. I actually experienced this first hand after chatting with some of them, they just told me not to use Google translate and just chat with them with whatever I know. They're very grateful when people could talk to them in their native tongue, especially when the honorifics are used. This note's long AF but I did say that I'm gonna drag you all with me in this whole learning Nihongo thing, and I'm doing just that. P117 "That friendly Ranmaru did that? Doesn't he hate Tenjin-ya?" "Hee hee. Well, don't take this too seriously, OK?" Even though saying it that way, I imagined that Ranmaru's horrible words and demeanour were probably due to his circumstances. Orio-ya sees Tenjin-ya as its rival, it's hard to imagine them having an image of humbly bringing over souvenirs. And the business dealings, I wonder what those are...? "Oh that, Ranmaru saw that you had a strong sense of duty. He wanted to particularly express his gratitude to Aoi-san." And thereupon, these ingredients from the Southern Lands. Stuff I rarely get hold of, especially something like that one round amberjack, and I unconsciously grinned. "Even so, if the circumstances allowed, he would have stopped by and said it himself** ..." "It was before Aoi-san's business hours, and Ranmaru is also busy it seems, so he had to go back immediately. Even I wanted to take our time since I thought it was fine, but it can't be helped... Because Ranmaru is the Southern Lands' Hachiyo." "Ha ha. Then what happens next is that if it's possible, Ginji-san will go to Orio-ya, won't he? Nothing's stopping you two from visiting each other now?" "Aoi-san...." Up until recently, Ginji-san and Ranmaru's long sibling feud previously ended sometime ago, and the long-standing so-called inn rivalry and clash between Orio-ya and Tenjin-ya has been cut. T/N: aisatsu=挨拶=greeting, introducing one's self, improving relations by dropping by every now and then, can also mean like popping up to say hi or whatnot. I don't know how to directly translate it since aisatsu has more of a sense of how a supervisor pops up in the work place or a teacher suddenly appears in a class just to check, it's not as informal as a neighbor dropping by the house just to have idle chitchat. Hweh. P118 But after the ceremony, the changed relationship between the two has been noticeable. "Oh, that, I see. Someday soon, I will take a break and go visit him too." "Yeah, I agree, that's great. Oh, I wonder if everyone's doing well... Hatori-san and Tokihiko-san, Hideyoshi and Nene, the cute twin chefs.. And Nobunaga." "It seems that everyone's doing fine. The twins Kai-san and Mei-san, Orio-ya profoundly realized that they're really suited to be chefs, and everyone seems to cheer them on, Hatori-san was still the same as ever, but sometimes he returns to Shumonzan. He says that he bickers with Matsuba-sama as always, but one way or another they've become in good terms with each other." Ginji-san asked Ranmaru, and he told things about Orio-ya's management staff. I see, everyone in each of their own way have been doing their best to move on forward. "Oh, and somehow Hideyoshi-san and Nene-san seems to have been engaged." "Whaaat? Why that fast?" Wait a minute. Hideyoshi knew that Nene-chan has decided, that she likes Ranmaru, wasn't it? But that's what Hideyoshi said... My astonished face must have looked funny, and Ginji-san turned away his face and giggled. "It's surely shocking, isn't it? Why, it's amazing, Hideyoshi was especially honest and manly. P119 I simply cannot..." Ginji-san let out a tiny laugh again. What is it about his old haunting grounds, being delighted at the many changes in Orio-ya? At any rate, I was surprised with Hideyoshi and Nene's engagement. Firstly, congratulations Hideyoshi. You thought that your unrequited love has been going on for so long, it was outside your thoughts early on, but now your love bore its fruit. I'm glad, as I'm rooting for you on from the sides. What the heck, behind my back, how did they get involved in that, that was surprisingly an unusual story, if I meet Nene this time I need to get information from her. "But the when the trustworthy Waka-danna** and Waka-Okami** get married, Orio-ya will surely become peaceful, and Ranmaru will also be pleased. Certainly after the marriage, their organization will grow even stronger. He'll get exhausted if it's just Ranmaru holding everything together." "Isn't Tenjin-ya also reasonably solid?" "I guess, although the position for Waka-Okami easily changes. Originally the person in that position is supposed to only resign once, but right now Kikuno-san has temporarily retired as the Young Mistress and supposed to come back. However, there have been circumstances in her family, and she immediately relinquished her seat as the Waka-Okami." "Ehh, like that?" After showing my disbelief, Ginji-san sadly nodded.

T/N: Waka-danna=young master, Waka-Okami=young mistress P120 "If it comes to that, when a new Waka-Okami doesn't hold the position for very long, we can say that there's a gifted person in Tenjin-ya, and it's only a little issue.** Likewise, during that matter with Orio-ya, we in the management staff really wanted the former Waka-Okami O-ryo san to come back and give it another go. Her abilities are very outstanding." "Even I too... I was shocked to see O-ryo completely doing her job well. Even Nene, one way or another admires her so much." "Yes, I agree. But, oh well... O-ryo-san returning to her former position, it's already a huge chance and a necessity. Right now she's drifting away from supporting her fellow waiters and waitresses, well, O-ryo-san must be intending to. To me, she seems to be enjoying having lesser responsibilities and more carefree in her current position." "Well, that's for sure..." Based on how Ginji-san talked about it, lately it seems that O-ryo has no obsession on the position of Waka-Okami. A little bit until recently, she seems, to have returned the bearing of her Waka-Okami decorum, but lately she's wholly just wanting to eat and eat, when she finally gets some free time she goes to Yugao, and lately has been persisting on going out hunting for marriage partners. However, I could say with confidence that she seems to be taking advantage of being relieved of her position as a Waka-Okami , and surely Tenjin-ya will realize that they need O-ryo's abilities. O-ryo's strength, is diligently doing her duties in that position. "Anyway, Aoi-san. I was preparing and building up the Autumn Festival here in Tenjin-ya at the end of this month, and I was thinking of using pumpkins, is it possible for Yugao to make Autumn foods and sweets for us?" T/N: Honestly double-triple negatives are a pain in the ass, srsly it's like inception to the nth power, I had trouble deciphering this line and almost this entire page in the original text so if it doesn't make sense, meh, I did my best within my current abilities. P121 "Pumpkin? Of course. It's gonna be fun, like Halloween." "Oh, right! There's a foreign festival called Halloween in Utsushiyo, but I thought it's impossible to recreate that here in in Kakuriyo, though I could imagine it to be made into a Pumpkin Festival." "Oh, not at all, we can make that same Halloween theme here because Tenjin-ya is mostly full of Ayakashi." A Japanese Halloween that doesn't use costumes... "But certainly, this year's pumpkins are delicious, so Pumpkin Festival sounds good, doesn't it? It's also a great idea to give out candies to our young guests." "We can probably decorate with paper lanterns and pumpkins too. We can place ogre-fire inside, and make them float all around Tenjin-ya." "Wow! That's very much like Utsushiyo's Halloween!" Why, the Autumn Festival goes well with the Pumpkin Event and our imaginations ran wild. "Also, Aoi-san. Pumpkins are not Odanna-sama's favorite." "..." Abruptly, the topic on Odanna-sama popped up, and I stiffened a bit. Some days ago, we came back from the orchard park date. I remembered being hugged in the airship's deck...** "How are you feeling, Aoi-san? Why is your face all red?" T/N: **insert lenny face here** You can't stop me wahahaha P122 "Hm? Oh, it's nothing, this is nothing. Odanna-sama not liking pumpkins, I wonder if I somehow asked that before..." "Oh, right. I saw that Odanna-sama often puts a lot of his boiled pumpkins in Byakuya-san's small bowl." "...really, isn't Odanna-sama unbelievable?" "Yes, he is. I don't know when Byakuya-san patience will end, but I want Odanna-sama to overcome his distaste for pumpkins." "You're right. His pickiness for food would not end... In this event I will feed Odanna-sama with the pumpkin cuisines I wanted him to try..." I haven't yet known what Odanna-sama likes, but I know what food he doesn't like. It wasn't at all regretable to make fun of Odanna-sama, but this time I got surprised. "Aoi-sama-- Manjuu-steaming has been finished!" Ai-chan's face suddenly popped out of the kitchen. She seemed to have established her affairs in Hyakumeyama, and she has changed her appearance to that which she made herself. Her time before returning to the pendant is still short, but she's working hard right now as a newly-hired employee. "You were steaming manjuu**? I thought I was smelling something good." "Yeah. Just a while ago Dr. Saraku was asked by Tenjin-ya to do some manufacturing trials for a new souvenir product.** T/N: Steamed bread with bean jam filling. They’re really good, try them when you can!

when I write souvenir product, it's translated from omiyage=お土産= something that you take home for your friends or family when you go have fun somewhere like a national park or a museum or amusement park. Like when you buy takeaways - T-shirts, food, keychains, etc. and bring them home or something. Is there an English equivalent for this? Because I don't know. In my native language we have an equivalent, well, for most Asian languages I guess. Don't know about others though.. Hm.... korewa....*inhales* O_O

P123 "We're still only in the middle of improving it, but once we're done we want Ginji-san to be the very first to try them out." "Wah, that sounds fun. When Byakuya-san saw the special products from Orio-ya, he also also saw the need for Tenjin-ya to make new specialties and other famous products, and he's going to be considerably sensitive about it." "Uhm.... But we have no confidence to meet that expectation..." If we couldn't get to sell all of the products that we made, what will we do if Tenjin-ya gets struck greatly by that? What will we do if Tenjin-ya's status and popularity crashes down? With regards to that, we had to think very hard. For Yugao as a small establishment it is a challenge, and the pressure feels a bit different. "It's alright. With regards to hit products, through time and through fads, luck always has a greater control. To me, the only thing needed by Dr. Saraku are failures no matter how many times, in his division. That is why it is important to fail when tackling new challenges." ".. Ginji-san..." "Because I think, we become stronger, don't we?" Ginji-san's relieving smile is so bright, even today it's promising. Having his support, for today as well, I will work harder for Yugao's business operations. P124 The next day, around noon. Tomorrow Tenjin-ya will be closed for a break. Since today Tenjin-ya's business operations will end and all shall check out at the same time, everyone's waiting to be free of work. Today, Yugao also has no business transactions, so tonight I was making up my mind to call all of the ladies to make hotpot. I was thinking of calling out all about to all the members who could attend, I only need to walk to the inner garden. "Oh, it's Kasuga." I noticed Kasuga first. On the other side of the log bridge, she was under the ginko tree. I was about to call out "Hey Kasuga--" but she seems to be talking to someone and I stopped. Behind the base of the ginko tree whose yellow leaves were slightly changing color, what the... Kasuga is usually cheerful but her face now weirdly has this blank expression. "Isn't that..." Beside her, it was Chiaki-san, the doorman in charge of the footwear. A Bake-Tanuki like Kasuga. Normally he doesn't get involved with her much deeply, but this time their dialogues seem to be at a crossroads. I thought that the young man was humble and modest, somehow trying his best to look cool, but somehow he is speaking to Kasuga with a harsh expression, the atmosphere doesn't seem good in there, the impression is very different from the usual funny and light. What is up with those two. These two were different from how I knew them. "Oh, Aoi-chan." P125 From far away, Kasuga noticed me, her Tanuki ears popped up, and rushed towards me. "Aoi-chan, are you going to the main building?" "Ehhhrm, yeah. That was weird, seeing the two of you." "You think so? Chiaki is my relative you know. We were just talking." "Oh, I see..." I don't understand but, I wonder what's normal for those two. "Speaking of, Kasuga, tonight, uhm, won't you come to Yugao after work?" "To Yugao? To make me eat food?" "Yeah. I was thinking of actually holding a ladies-only hotpot banquet. I'll set up the kotatsu, and there's also mountain apple liquor. Let's have a girls' night-out once in a while." "Girls night-out..." Kasuga said "That sounds so much fun" with a wicked Tanuki face. I wonder if she's recalling amusing stories she got out of everyone. "I was thinking of calling O-ryo and Shizuna-chan too. I'm going out to meet them now." "If you say so, I'll go tell them. I'm roommates with Shizuna-chan, and I'm assigned to the banquet hall with O-ryo sama." P126 "Oh, is it OK to ask? Sorry about that." "It's fine, it's like the usual running of errands." Smiling like a beast, Kasuga nimbly dashed away. Under the deep autumn air that feels cold, her fluffy Tanuki tail swings left to right. "..." Looking back at the ginko tree, Chiaki-san the chief doorman wasn't there anymore. I wonder what the two talked about. He seemed to have casually listened to the girls night-out plan. The strong mountain apple liquor, lend me your strength... "Aoi-dono" "Wah, Sasuke-kun!" Without warning, Sasuke-kun the O-niwaban fell down beside me. He has a long scarf hanging down his neck, ninja-style from sunrise to sunset. Normally, during the day he usually wears a monk's robe as he sweeps the garden. "What's up? Something happened during work?" "I am patrolling around. Lately, there has been some disturbances." "Well, tomorrow the inn will have its break, it must be difficult. Are you hungry?" "Ah, my stomach is..." P127 Grrrrrmmmmm. Sasuke-kun's hungry stomach made some noise. "My stomach is probably hungry..." "Hee hee. When your duties are done, while on break come to Yugao. We received a lot from Orio-ya, blessings from the sea. The Southern Lands were also grateful to Sasuke-kun, would you want anything?" "Is that true?" Sasuke-kun always had a cool expression, but when it comes to food his eyes sparkle with joy, like a child's. Realizing that he's let out his enthusiasm, he cleared his throat and hid his mouth with the scarf while saying "Well then, until later," and he disappeared into the wind. Sasuke-kun is just as always very earnest, it's adorable. "Nevertheless, some disturbance..." I heard about that by accident, recently. The disturbance, it's shady, things don't look good, among other things. I was working and doing my best in Yugao, and whatever lurks up in my surroundings I don't notice anything at all. But, at the moment I don't know about the things that have started happening, and I got more anxious and worried. P128 Today is a secret girls; night-out, no guys allowed. It's going to happen after Yugao's working hours, a hotpot party will be opened for the ladies of Tenjin-ya. Today it's not at Yugao, the venue will be at my room at the back, and I will bring out the kotatsu. Tonight's dinner will be amberjack shabu-shabu. We'll make a light konbu/kelp dashi amberjack shabu-shabu from the many seafoods from Orio-ya. "We'll use the top shelf kelp to make the konbu dashi for the seafoods of the Southern Lands. It's a hotpot filled with crunchy mustard greens and thinly-sliced daikon, Welsh onions and enoki mushrooms, I'm going to fill it with amberjack as much as I want." "OK--- Let's eat!" Despite it being after work, the ladies' eyes will get fired up. I wonder if that's the case when they get hungry after working hours. I immediately placed in the fatty slices of amberjack in the hotpot's boiled konbu dashi, and let it cook. I will add in here some ponzu for that single tingly flavor.** "Ahhh, what is this luxury. It's been a while since I had amberjack shabu-shabu..." "O-ryo sama, eat the vegetables too. Adding the thinly-sliced daikon makes this a shabu-shabu." "Alright, I get it..." O-ryo just ate only the amberjack, and Kasuga sneakily added in the vegetables. She also placed some of the boiled enoki, and placed a lot of the dashi along with the fish slices, placing all of these together she took a bite. T/N: Sour-tasting soups are best with fatty meats and fish, so I'd get that Aoi would do this to cut the fat and make the shabu-shabu taste even better and also to cut the fat and greasy feels. P129 The two closed their eyes in contentment. Certainly, when the raw amberjack was cooked over a flame, the entire flavor of the fish changes. Instantly the soft slices of amberjack became tough, and over that ponzu was added, this was entirely different when eaten as sashimi or with pickles, it can be an enjoyable, extravagant yet healthy food. Well, not really, it's just the season to eat hotpot deliciously. "Speaking of, what time is Shizuna-chan coming?" "The bath hours haven't ended yet, I think she'll come over after fixing and cleaning up the bath houses. She's the only one from the management staff, and she has to stay in her working area up until the end of business hours." "Oh, yeah. I see. Shizuna-chan is part of the management staff." I lightly glanced at O-ryo. O-ryo was a former management staff member, but she seems to be unaffected by my words. It seems that the person in question enjoys whatever working position she's in right now, and is drinking carbonated water as well as the mountain apple liquors equally. Somewhat it's like being that annoying single office-lady... "Perhaps I should say it- did you know? Orio-ya's Nene is married to their Waka-danna?" "No, aren't they just engaged? It seems like that for the time being, before getting married?" P130 Uhm, Kasuga and I looked at each other. But O-ryo wasn't listening. "Hmmph. That young girl, she'll be suffering so much marrying so young. That Waka-danna called Hideyoshi, that tiny squirt, he'll noisily scold her." "You think so? I've seen that Hideyoshi, he seems good enough. Well, he is pretty noisy. But he seems to like Nene very much, I think it's wonderful that he got his feelings through." I feel like an aunty who's earnestly chatting away about her relatives. If I could talk about it better, those two make a cute, tiny couple. "Gah! Enough chatting about a guy's love for some girl! I am not interested in the happiness of other people!" With a thud, O-ryo slapped her empty wine glass on the kotatsu. "Ahhhh, O-ryo sama don't start complaing about envying other people..." As always, Kasuga started telling her off with her "good grief!" pose. "I'm sorry I'm late--" A breath of fresh air, Shizuna-chan has joined the party.** Shizuna-chan takes care of the bath houses and bears the task of keeping them in order, and is Tenjin-ya's sole management staff for that purpose. "Shizuna, you're late! The battle has already started!" T/N: well the transliteration of the original text was "Shizuna-chan has arrived in the battlefield", but I think this has the same feel, from RPGs honestly IDK anymore lol anyways IMO food parties are always a battlefield so wth it's the same gahaha P131 "Ah, yes--? I'm sorry, ehhh, a battle?" After that, even if O-ryo was just a waitress who glared at her instantly, Shizuna-chan humbly apologized. It seemed that she had no idea what O-ryo meant with her words of choice. Shizuna-chan brought a box for us, filled with so many delicious sweets.This seemed delicious to eat as dessert. "Shizuna-chan, come sit beside me. Say, do you like amberjack shabu-shabu?" Shizuna-chan rarely visits here. I did my best to take care of whatever she needs. "Well, it has been a while since I had some amberjack shabu-shabu, how nostalgic..." "Oh, right. When you were young, you were a staff at Orio-ya. During that time, did you ate a lot?" "Yes, it was my favorite. Shishou-sama** made a lot of it for me..." Talking while bashfully fidgeting, Shizuna-chan started to eat with a lot of etiquette. Suddenly, O-ryo started looking at Shizuna-chan like a sister-in-law. "I say, uhm, Shizuna? There's someone in Orio-ya like you, who's also nice and has good vibes?" "Yes? A person with good vibes?" "Hey, weren't you explicitly pursued here in Tenjin-ya? Who was it.... That guy who looks withered up, called Tokihiko. You like someone who looks bitter and glum, don't you? It's illogical and unadult-like. Don't think that somehow you're under the shadow of that guy.. *hic*" T/N: I don't know how to call the main artist or the one who takes in a lot of disciples or students or apprentices so this is the next best thing, I guess? I mean, it’s directly translated as Master=師匠-Shishou, but it can mean other stuff, not just like sensei though. P132 "Oh, uhm.. that.. Shishou-sama.... he is uhm..." Shizuna-chan's face started blushing, like she had some beer or whatnot. Once that conversation was started, she immediately got perplexed. "Wait a minute, O-ryo! Shizuna-chan just started eating, don't ask her such direct questions, her throat might block off the shabu-shabu." "You're loud Aoi! Shut up, what's more important than looks are the uses**, you crazed-cook!" "What the.." Whom on earth did she think this hotpot party was prepared for? When O-ryo drinks liquor, she always blurts out unapologetic things. "Haaahhh... Aoi may be crazy about cooking, but in the end, eventually she'll get married to Odanna-sama... He'll pick up an excessively-expensive palanquin for you, you won't understand how miserable I am..." "What the heck are you saying... I'm doing my best to avoid being his fiancee." "But Aoi-chan, didn't you and Odanna-sama went out, and you were away for more than a night?" "Hold up, Kasuga, it's a weird, story, it can't be helped. We were captured by the mountain's Kaku-zaru." "Ah, but.. Odanna-sama pulled you out of a pinch, didn't that made you have a change of heart? Or some progress?"

T/N: hanayoridango=function before looks, like buying food first before buying flowers, yeah that’s the literal meaning of the phrase. P133 "...what?" A while ago Shizuna-chan got asked the same kind of questions. Suddenly, the three girls gazed at me. What the, what's up with their eyes, those three? They look like hyenas having an eye on their prey. "I.. I didn't mean it that way! Uhmm... Odanna-sama just.. gives his all as he saves me..." Speaking of progress, what on earth is progressing right now? My first-hand experiences weren't much, and even using those as my basis, I still don't understand. In the end, somehow despite never having an idea on what occurred, the warmth I felt when I was hugged just abruptly pops back again into my mind, and ultimately my face remains blushing, as I chattered and gritted my teeth in silence. I really don't understand this, I wonder... what is this feeling? "What the heck is that..?" "Yeah, what gives? It's weird, Aoi-chan's face is so red, why is that?" I could hear Kasuga and Shizuna-chan somewhat breaking the silence with their hushed conversations. "OK--- that's enough talking about sweethearts and whatnot-- That's every last one of them--" "Yeah, I heard you, I heard you!" O-ryo had enough of the topic already, and she rolled down into the kotatsu with an angry and dead-drunk expression. She probably got one-punched...** T/N: Yeah I feel you O-ryo, when everyone has some special someone and you're the lonely third wheel I mean, I can't blame you girl, I really can't. It's worse than getting one-punched by Saitama, but... Still lol tho sry my bad P134 "O-ryo sama, with that middle-aged man attitude such as yours, you'll miss your chances of getting married." "Kasuga? With the romance that a little girl-chama like you would know, wouldn't have an idea on what love is like, there's no such thing as an immediate fated encounter. Really esteemed women like me, wouldn't have to rush in choosing.There's no leeway for mistakes--" "Yeah, yeah. But regarding myself, I have a first love..." "What, that story about when you were young? Yeah, yeah, sure, that story that smells of inexperience is good enough. Kasuga, go pour me some more.." "Y-yes... Good grief..." The esteemed woman bully lied down again. And as the junior poured more liquor for her, she drank heartily, again. "But Kasuga, speaking of that, during the day, I saw you being with the Gesokuban** Chiaki-san. What on earth were you two chatting about?" "....uhm..." I suddenly remembered it, and without thinking I asked. Kasuga's facial expression slightly changed. "Reallyyyyy?! What the, Kasuga is with that Chiaki?!" Hearing that topic, O-ryo suddenly bolted upright. She kicked her legs inside the kotatsu, and Shizuna-chan let out a tiny, pained "ouch". "What is it, O-ryo?" "Chiaki may look sloppy and gaudy, but so many waitresses are eyeing on him. Not only does his face look good,

T/N: Gesokuban=下足番= doorman in charge of the footwear, normally in Japanese inns or hotels the footwear are kept outside the halls to prevent dirt from coming in. I think elsewhere in the world this is a practice, there’s a thing called indoor and outdoor slippers or shoes. P135 but being a Gesokuban, he's pretty much a member of the management staff. If he gets married, it's easy to dominate him. That's what I understand from hearing other people. Kasuga, he's also your type?" "...what are you talking about, O-ryo sama? Chiaki is my Uncle. Simply put, my father's younger brother.**" "Whaaa... Really?" Everyone got shocked. Everyone in here seemed to be unaware of that fact. Kasuga went "Uh-oh". Her face spelled out "I shouldn't have said that." "It's probably due to this liquor.. I may have said too much..." Kasuga was scratching an itch on her temple. Taking the opportunity, Shizuna-chan suddenly seemed to have remembered something. "Speaking of that... Kasuga is taking a long vacation to go back to her parents' home, and at the same time, Chiaki-san probably won't we working too, isn't it? Could it possibly be that, he's going home with you?" Somehow, a lot of suspicions and doubts started rising up, and Kasuga started clamoring and wailing. "Geez... stop it already! What I told you is already enough! More importantly, hotpot! Look, the mustard greens and onions, and the tofu had all boiled down.The umami of the vegetables and the amberjack have already dissolved into this precious konbu dashi, and it's considerably better now. Aoi-chan, how are we going to divide this?" With dexterity, Kasuga started distributing the contents of the hotpot into smaller bowls, but I was still determined to press information out of her. This girl is pushily taking charge over the hotpot... T/N: I don't know about you guys, but in some families due to the age gaps between the siblings, some of the nieces and nephews ar more closer in age to their aunts and uncles than the aunts and uncles have to the children's parents. I was actually raised by an elder cousin, and her eldest brother was around the age of my father, so yeah, I could understand how this whole thing with Kasuga goes. P136 "Ok, with this, it's definitely udon!" "Udon!" "Yeah let's do that" Shizuna-chan gratefully put her hands together, and O-ryo's sparkling eyes were on standby. Immediately, the udon balls were brought in, and these were dunked into the deliciously-filled dashi stock. After boiling it down, we only had to wait for the noodles to absorb the flavors. "By the way, you all, what do you think of the single guys in Tenjin-ya?" "Yes?" "Do you have anything funny about them to talk about?" While O-ryo poured some newly-opened liquor, she drunkenly pushed the question at me. This woman, sets herself aside and starts gossiping about Tenjin-ya's male army. "First of, let's start with Akatsuki. That guy's the youngest male in the management staff, he may have a promising future, surely being young his composure isn't yet enough, I think. Well, in desperate times I could say that he's adorable, but he's the type that holds grudges, and it's not a good thing that he easily snaps out. For certain, I think he doesn't have a girl." "It seems that O-ryo sama has a problem with the Bantou** -sama snapping out at her words and deeds, don't you?" "Shut up Kasuga--" "Owwwww" T/N:Bantou=番頭=head clerk, or the head receptionist

P137 O-ryo pulled out Kasuga's cheeks. Kasuga's cheeks stretched out so much. "Akatsuki-san's face is a bit scary, but he is a hard-working employee, in my opinion. But, well... I'm not interested in someone younger than me..." "That's right Shizuna, you have an older guy fetish don't you?" "Yeah, the guy has been living for 500 years now, yes..." Shizuna-chan just casually blurted out that she wasn't interested in Akatsuki. She's probably a bit drunk. She's drinking the mountain apple liquor on the rocks... "Akatsuki, you say... When I met him he shouted like he was going to kill me, that guy gave me the impression that he was the worst but... Now I think he's a really good chap. One way or another way though, he's not someone who likes taking care of others. I remember her younger sister.." That child** comes here to Yugao, his eyes may look evil but he's a caring person. Surely, I think that he's concerned about troubling his younger sister Suzuran and grandpa, among others. "Oh, and by the way..." At this point, Kasuga secretly pulled out a notebook and started telling us the stuff that she wrote. What the... What the heck, that is scary. "According to my research, the Bantou-sama doesn't have a woman's touch on him. He's aloof, and he easily and earnestly gets resentful. It also seems that despite the lady waitresses asking him out to have fun, he always doesn't go with them." "As expected..." T/N: the term Yuuma-sensei used for Akatsuki is mame=マメ=bean, but can also mean a child, a little person, etc. Honestly it's not wrong, Akatsuki is an actual precious bean IMO lol protect that spider bean lelz P138 "But that guy, a little girl once invited him to play with her..." Surprisingly, I thought this was a bit rude. Most likely, Akatsuki is sneezing a lot right now. "Wah, udon, udon--" Finally, the udon has been boiled enough. Everyone started putting udon on their bowls. "Gahh... This is it. The udon to finish the hotpot."** "Cooking this in the dashi makes it yummier, doesn't it?" The udon has surely absorbed the umami and the fatty flavors of the amberjack. I added the refreshing taste of the Sudachi Ponzu in mine. This went smoothly down the throat, and this perfectly wraps up the the meal. No, I mean, this is a work of art. "Hey Aoi, you only drank one glass of the liquor? You go drink some more..." "Sorry but, I dont drink more than a cup. Previously, drinking made my eyes hurt when I look at things." A cup of that liquor tastes great. But I dread getting drunk if I drink more than my limit. But everyone was just drinking heartily, so I guess it's fine. The mountain apple liquor also has another nickname, it's called "Easy Bandit-Killer". "Well then, next is the Waka-danna sama's turn" O-ryo continued the conversation where we previously left off. "Waaat? Even Ginji-san?! But.. Isn't Ginji-san perfect? No, a perfect Youkai? I couldn't find any fault with him." T/N: Just in case you're wondering how this works, it's rather easy.. After eating all of the ingredients in the Japanese hotpot, like taking out the veggies and meat, there's a lot of soup left. It's easier to just drink the soup but in Japan, they add stuff to help it go down easy. Choices are either noodles or rice, and the young ones love putting the noodles in. It actually tastes good either way, but I prefer noodles. I think in Persona 5 they also had this same dilemma lol Also yeah Ginji is just the ball, perfect ball of fur lol but he also has this shadowy and mysterious side so if you want a dude of mystery, Ginji's your man gahahaha P139 "Eh. You don't understand, Aoi. Seeing no faults or imperfections is that person's shortcoming-" An adultish smile floating up her face, O-ryo started spinning her glass around. "Waka-danna sama is, well, fanstastic. When you look at him he's handsome, he is well-mannered, and is skillful at his job." "Yeah I get that. He's very sweet, and he always lends a hand... But for sure, Ginji-san seems to have no interests in romantic relationships..." Even I haven't unraveled the reasons to why Ginji-san is still single. But I'm not surprised that he's well-liked. "Oh, well, based on what O-ryo-san was saying, Ginji-sama has no chink in his armor, doesn't he? When a little girl couldn't get any confidence from everyone and has to hold it together by herself, when that perfect Ginji-sama sees that person, his voice would probably not break so easily." "The Waka-danna sama isn't a greedy type, but look, what Aoi-chan is saying is that the Waka-danna seems to have no hobbies or interests. Aoi-chan doesn't understand how, but among the employees he seems to be the type that only admires one person. In that case, his attraction for this one girl could unfortunately end. And she won't be pursued relentlessly." Oh, I get it... Shizuna-chan and Kasuga pointed this out, and I could understand it better. "But after that thing with Orio-ya, somehow the air around the Waka-danna sama has changed, didn't it? T/N: OK I just translated from Japanese what I'd say if I was fan-girling over Ginji, srsly arrrghhh does a guy like this exist? I'd want the extra tails and the transformation powers but I'm OK without those as long as he's into romantic stuff.. Does he? Does he not? I don't know yet lol are there any Ginji fan-fams here too lololol P140 I heard it from the lady waitresses that aren't easy to talk to. That person, he has undoubtedly became likeable. And then, the Waka-danna sama, didn't he take care of you in your condition?" "..." With a wicked face, O-ryo was testing me with her words. But to me, up until now I think that Ginji-san is likeable, and in that case it's not even a joke. He hardly comes to Yugao now, and because of that it's gotten lonely... "On another point, among the Waka-danna sama's nine tails, the third one below, from the right seems to be the most unique.That is somehow a weak spot." "Kasuga, how did you know such information?" It's scary... Kasuga's information is creepy. Even though she's drunk the power of her research skills scared all of us. "Well then... Choubachou** Byakuya-sama--" "O-ryo, don't you dare take another step over there--" We suddenly exercised caution with Byakuya-san. If we speak rudely of him, we feel like we're going to get cursed.** "I honestly couldn't remember a time when he got angry..." "Me either..." "Me too..." T/N: OK so my bad, Byakuya’s supposed position ranges from accounting to reception, but I just previously translated his position as head accountant because it’s what I got before. But he’s more or less the chief of management operations, which includes accounting. Anyway... Hey, I mean, if Byakuya can kick Raijuu's ass then it's justifiable that Byakuya is always in a sour mood, and it's bad to talk about him rudely. Raijuu's a pain in the ass for sure. Arrrgh P141 In the end, this girls' group had nothing more to say. We shuddered when we remembered stuff, and inside the kotatsu we all curled up. Though we were only just talking about him, his pressure on us made us feel defeated even in here. "H.. However, Byakuya-sama stealthily spoils the pipe cats living at the back of the mountain..." "Kasuga, nobody knows about that yet. Don't talk about it, if that gets leaked out we'll get killed." Well, in short, Byakuya-sama pours all of his love to the pipe cats. "Geez, we've wrapped out heads too much on these puzzles, and my hands have lost all feeling. Like Odanna-sama, he also exists above the clouds." "That's because Byakuya-sama is Odanna-sama's good old wife." O-ryo and Kasuga opened the box that Shizuna-chan brought for us, and while munching on these they were sloppily chatting. "Good old wife?" Isn't Byakuya-san a guy? as I tilted my head. "Since long ago, he has assisted in the running of Tenjin-ya. Odanna-sama is able to go here and there freely for work, and Byakuya-sama was staying in Tenjin-ya and presides over it. He has long been in good terms with Odanna-sama, and Byakuya-sama could readily and frankly give out his opinions to him." Come to think of it, before Odanna-sama and I went out, him and Byakuya-san were talking about something one way or the other. P142 In that case, other than the other employess and executives, nobody sees it like an older wife giving encouragement to her husband. "And for sure, when the Oo-Okami** sama isn't here, Byakuya-sama also takes in that role as well, doesn't he?" "Oo-Okami?" Shizuna-chan was drinking the last drop of the sweet liquor, she was reminded of her old home and started talking. "Ougondouji-sama is currently residing in Orio-ya. Previously, Ougondouji-sama was asked to be the Oo-Okami. She holds the same position and rank as Odanna-sama, therefore ever since Ougondouji-sama left Tenjin-ya,the position has been vacant." "Oh, I see... If that's so, with regards to that old tale, I have asked Ginji-san about that." And with that, Byakuya-san also holds the position of Oo-Okami. "Haaaahhh... That weird chat about the Oo-Okami has been a bit too much already." "O-ryo sama, didn't you tell me back then that you'd focus intently on becoming Oo-Okami ,once upon a time?" "Shut up Kasuga! It's a harsh fact that I have to live with!" With O-ryo and Kasuga's conversation, my ears grew eager to listen. "But isn't that.. O-ryo already has no interest with the Waka-Okami position?" "Whaaat? Aoi, you're asking that question? Did't I tell you that I won't get into the position of Waka-Okami again?" T/N: Oo-Okami, Mistress of the House, or something, like the big lady boss.

P143 "R..Really?" "It's fine, really it is. My enthusiastic, indomitable personality is dead. I want to enjoy living a carefree life. I plan to marry a rich guy, then immediately stop working--" "..." Somehow, the atmosphere became tense. Could it be possible that, among all the people in here right now, we're all thinking that O-ryo didn't really want to give up that position? Especially Kasuga, she was shell-shocked, and her face looked troubled. I felt that the mood has changed, so I tapped my fist in my hand. "Oh, right, right. I brought some large-sized grapes from the fruit orchard park, and I made some grape tarts. Let's eat some? I added a lot of grapes on it, it's a custard cream dessert." "Kasstard? OK OK let's eat--" It seems that nobody understood what I meant, but everybody nodded their heads excitedly. Grape tart. I made the crust with the coconut oil from Orio-ya and baked it, and by adding the large grapes called Daishisui that I gathered with Odanna-sama yesterday, the tart looks like a sparkly jewelry box. On top of the crust, I laid down an easily-made custard cream made of Cassowary egg and some wheat flour, with cow's milk and a bit of sugar, P144 and these buried the grapes cut in halves, which I later baked in the oven. After baking this for a while, I topped everything with raw grapes and pure cream. These were arranged as such because the tightly-packed grapes beneath this layer cannot be seen. "Woooooow!" Those dynamic-seeing eyes, everyone's eyes were sparkling. I sliced the large tart in front of everyone, and when the neatly-arranged grapes were cut through, Shizuna-chan let out a regretful-sounding "Awww".** There wasn't any fork, we used kuromoji, special wooden chopsticks** normally used for Japanese sweets or just ate them using our bare hands. "Uwahhh this is juicy-- What is this, I thought this food has raw grapes, but this tastes is like it was meant to be a baked dessert!" "This is the first time I ate something that tastes like this, but the grapes' sweetness stands out, it's really delicious--" O-ryo eating with her hands and Shizuna-chan using a kuromoji, they fell into a trance like typical ladies who love sweets. "This is generally called a fruit tart, and with the rich taste of the eggs in the custard cream, it blends well with the sweet and sour freshness of the fruits, and together these really bring about the best-tasting combination. The sweetness gets reduced, and the sourness becomes mild." As I was explaining how the mild taste came about, Kasuga haven't taken a single bite of the grape tart, and while propping her chin with her hand, she was observing it quietly. T/N: Lol I feel you Shizuna-chan, I feel the same when a freshly-bought ice cream tub looks so neat I don't wanna cut through it lol that's why ASMR of perfectly arranged anything are famous bahaha

Kuromoji=黒文字= Japanese sweets are eaten traditionally by using tiny wooden chopsticks, to cut and skewer them. You can check them out via search engine or smth P145 "What is it, Kasuga? Don't tell me, you don't like grapes?" "Hmm? No, it's not like that.. I really love grapes. That dessert you called tart, I was thinking of something." Kasuga ate held tart like it was a hard cookie, and bit on it heartily despite doubting what it was, before chewing on it. She filled her cheeks with the grapes, the custard, and the fragrant crust. "Mmmm, I wanted to eat some more. The grapes are heavy, and they burst in my mouth." Just a while ago we were enjoying some amberjack shabu-shabu, but we still had room for dessert, and all of the girls ate as much of the grape tart to their hearts' content. "Aoi-dono--" In that moment, came a boy's voice that can be heard from inside Yugao. "It's Sasuke-kun. I told him that I was going to give him something to eat after his working hours." The three ladies around me went "It's.. Sasuke-kun?", and they looked at me from the side. "Say, Aoi, tell Sasuke-kun to come here too." "Really? Even if today's a no-guys-allowed girls' night-out, it's OK to call him in?" "Yes, it's totally OK. Sasuke-kun is an adorable and good boy." "..." Even though there was a nagging feeling, I went outside of Yugao and called out to Sasuke-kun. "Sasuke-kun, thank you for your hard work. We were just having a hotpot party inside but, P146 I'll also add something for you, OK?" "Hotpot, is it? Is it because it has already gotten a bit cold?" "Come in. Everyone's waiting for you. I'll go and prep up." "I understand." Sasuke-kun unknowingly trudged toward the innermost room, and opened the door. "?!" No sooner than opening the door. Sasuke-kun the ninja couldn't react fast enough, and he was dragged into the room. "Gyaaaaahhh! Aoi-dono, Aoi-dono---" Sasuke-kun, the innocent and sweet Sasuke-kun, he was preyed upon by the ladies starved of men. "I- I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun. I'll make you a delicious hotpot, OK?" I feel guilty that he gets harassed, and using another earthen pot I added dashi stock, vegetables and the amberjack slices, and hurriedly went towards the innermost room. Please, please let Sasuke-kun be OK! "..." Sasuke-kun was already pestered by the drunken ladies, here and there he was grumbling being urged to drink liquor, P147 his hair has been tousled and his scarf stretched out, it was horrible, but he was being coddled and spoiled. "Aoi-dono--" Poor Sasuke-kun, he was crying out of fear. He was unprotected, and the swarming girls were getting their fill, it was another shabu-shabu over the kotatsu setting. They're feeding him too much. While he's eating delicious food, I will protect Sasuke-kun.

Despite the determination of that bunch, just like turning off a lamp, the girls suddenly collapsed.

Zzzz.... The effects of the mountain liquor came at last, and the intense sleepiness has struck. "Aoi-dono.. What on earth, were you doing here?" "Hmm? It's a secret girls' night-out, Sasuke-kun." "Secret girls' night-out..."

It's really too much to handle drunkeness. The true intents and personalities of the girls, were hidden and unseen, in this empty room these must not get out. Everything that they spewed out, they'll probably forget in the morning. And that was the so-called, girls' night-out.

End of Chapter 4, Volume 6. Previous - Intermission 1 Next - Intermission 2

References:

Wonderful site for the youkai references

Other stuff I used to do this: Kodansha Kanji Learner’s Dictionary (you can buy here, I’m not sponsored btw). I was about to buy the older edition but then the newer one came out 2013 so I bought that instead. Worth buying since I was able to find nearly all of the words I needed just by stroke pattern alone.

Merriam-Webster's Japanese-English Dictionary (the red-covered 1996 version is apparently out of print right now). This is what I have been using for a very long time, I bought it when I was still a fetus (yes I am old so what lol), and after so many years, when compared to newer editions, I still prefer this one since its entirety is Japanese-English, the English to Japanese gloss are just 16 pages tops, so you get more Japanese words for your buck. But that’s just my opinion, maybe other people prefer the Jap-En x En-Jap IDEK.

Basic online dictionary, Jisho. Knowledge of verb conjugations and other words are necessary since not all have entries.

If you can read Japanese, you can buy the whole set in Amazon Japan, they’re shipping worldwide now, I think.

#kakuriyo no yadomeshi #kakuriyo no yadomeshi light novel #kakuriyo no yadomeshi english fan translation #kakuriyo no yadomeshi volume 6 chapter 4 #kakuriyo no yadomeshi volume 6 chapter 4 english fan translation

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accio-moon · 6 years ago

Text

clickbait

request: you’re a famous youtuber and david has a huge crush on you

warnings: none

David wasn’t planning on going to Vidcon. He loved his fans and he loved meeting them, but Vidcon always seemed like too much. He’d have to do a meet and greet, panels, and host some other Q&As. Natalie had pushed him to do it because it paid well, but David just didn’t feel right about it. That was all until he saw that you were a featured creator. You were one of the biggest Youtubers in the game. You didn’t limit yourself to just one type of content. You made beauty videos, vlogs, mukbangs, and everything in between. You edited your own videos and always posted them on time. But the thing that David admired about you most was how funny you were. He always said he never listened to podcasts, but he listened to yours. Every week he’d sit in his room and listen to your latest episode with his headphones. No one knew about his crush on you except for him. He knew he’d get the chance to meet you if he went, so he signed on to moderate your Q&A session.

You had just finished getting ready backstage. Honestly, you were pretty nervous about this Q&A session. You knew people would show up, you were just worried you’d get thrown a question you couldn’t answer. People could be really awful sometimes. Your manager had also just told you that David was moderating the session, making your stomach drop. You had always had the biggest crush on David Dobrik. You’d followed him since the Vine days. You didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of him. Fifteen minutes passed by as you debated going over to say hi to him before the show. He stood at the door to his dressing room, trying to appear like he was casually standing there. Neither of you wanted to truly walk out and make the first move. Your manager informed you that it was time to go onstage and your stomach immediately erupted with butterflies. You completely forgot about David and followed your manager like a lost puppy until you got to the side of the stage. He was on stage, laughing loudly as he introduced you with his goofy persona. Seeing him so comfortable up there somehow immediately eased your nerves. You took a deep breath as he said your name and walked up onto the stage, waving to the crowd as you were practically blinded by the lights. You smiled widely as you gave David a big hug. He smelled really good. You took your seats and smiled nervously at each other.

“Wow, there’s so many of you! Thanks so much for coming out everyone.” You giggled, holding your heart as you looked out at the crowd of people.

“So, we’re gonna do a few pre-selected questions and then we’ll open up the floor for more. Sound good for everyone?” David asked, receiving a loud cheer in response.

You went through the motions, answering questions about how you started, what inspires you, what your family life is like, and what you want for the future. The crowd asked you more interesting questions, like whether or not you were going to adopt a dog and whether or not you have beef with other Youtubers. It immediately felt intimate and pretty normal to be up there. The nerves completely disappeared and it truly just felt like a conversation with your subscribers. David was there along the way to ask questions himself or add little jokes to keep the energy lighthearted. He was doing a really great job. The Q&A lasted for about an hour before you had to say your goodbyes. You waved excitedly and thanked the crowd again before exiting the stage with David. You smiled widely in his direction.

“You were so great! You did that so effortlessly. I literally could never do that.”

“You just get used to it. I’ve picked it up with the little things I’ve had to host along the way.” He shook his head humbly.

“Thank you for doing that. You really didn’t have to.”

“I have another question for you,” He smirked, making you raise an eyebrow.

“Do you want to go out on a date some time?”

Your face immediately turned red as he asked that question. He completely threw you off guard. You wanted to seem cool and casual but you also didn’t want to come off as passive. You internally debated what to say for way too long.

“Uh, yeah. That’d be fun.”

You exchanged numbers and he quickly sent you a text inviting you to their party tonight. Maybe you should do Q&As more often, you thought.

#david dobrik #david dobrik imagine #david dobrik imagines #david dobrik x reader #vlog squad #vlog squad imagine #imagine #imagines

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missmeikakuna · 5 years ago

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The Girl Who Cried Gay

Rated: T-M (It's something I can see a teenager reading and enjoying but could be given a more mature rating due to the swearing and the edgy jokes the characters make.) Fandom: Original story Relationship type: F/F Description: Edgy teenager Jimena's idea of a joke is coming out to her classmates every day. The thing is, she actually is gay but is too chicken to come out for real, playing off her numerous attempts as a joke. But this time she's going to tell the truth and confess to her best friend, the equally edgy rebel Vinciane. Her plan? Write an entire song in two weeks and perform it in front of everyone. Should be easy, right?

Right? Notes:

I want to thank Tyler, the Creator for inspiring this story. Your numerous jokes about you being into dudes before coming out for real was a source of fascination for me, which is why I wrote this story. Also, Igor is a great album. Congrats on the Grammy.

For my readers, keep in mind that my opinions do not always match those of the characters. These girls say things I never would. I hope you find them entertaining.

CONTENT WARNING: There is a mention of suicide but no actual suicide, just the characters being edgelords and joking about the topic.

Jimena picked her teeth with one of the spikes on her boots, which she had shaken off as the school day drew to a close. Before that afternoon’s teacher had the chance to chastise her for her choice in outfit… again… she stood on top of the table.

‘I’ve got something to tell you all. I…’ She wobbled a little on the table. ‘Woah, this is pretty difficult.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m gay.’

Everyone, the teacher included, rolled their eyes and resumed their in-class tasks. Vinciane leaned back in her seat as she looked up at Jimena. She watched this grand reveal with a smirk on her face that would make a lawyered-up business mogul jealous.

Her short, dyed red hair in a sidecut was a constant source of frustration for the teachers. Jimena tried to copy it with her black hair but settled on a faux sidecut with braids. In fact, she tried to copy every aspect of her appearance, a feat made difficult by their differing body types, with Jimena being tall and thin and Vinciane being short and curvy. Both wore dark and heavy makeup, also causing a stir among the teachers.

Vinciane almost dropped her smirk when she saw Jimena’s hands turn into trembling fists. Almost.

There was little point in being concerned since it wasn’t long before Jimena laughed and applauded herself.

‘You should have seen the looks on your faces! Get wrecked!’ She plopped back down off the table and nudged Vinciane in the ribs. ‘Lezzies for life, Vinny?’ she said, holding out her pinky finger and rivalling her smirk with her own. ‘We’ll get our own U-Haul and argue over who makes the sandwiches.’

Vinciane tied her pinky around Jimena’s. ‘Wouldn’t have it any other way. By the way, I’m making the sandwiches.’ Her accent was lightly French.

The two laughed loud enough to cause another quick lecture on manners from the teacher. Then it was Jimena’s turn to roll her eyes. Being the rebellious girl she was, she flipped the bird at her teacher… under the table.

That night, Jimena held her pillow in between her chest and her knees, slouching against her bedframe. She lifted her pinky and stared at it before bringing it to her lips in a gentle kiss. She looked at the acoustic guitar at the other end of the room, romantic lyrics flittering in her head.

The punk text tone on her bedside table sent lightning up Jimena’s spine. It was Vinciane’s favourite song. The text was accompanied by a poorly shot photo.

I put a gold bath bomb in and now the bathwater looks like piss. FML. Gonna kill myself, brb.

Jimena responded a little later than she had hoped, taking time to craft her text.

Is that a toaster in your bathtub or are you happy to see me?

Vinciane’s next text pushed Jimena’s heart up to her throat.

¿Por qué no los dos? Btw, you almost had me fooled today. Almost convinced me your verbal coming out shitpost was real. Excellent job, my love 😉

Oh, yeah. Shitpost.

Jimena pulled her numerous blankets on top of her body and rolled around until she was caved in by warmth. It did little to bring a smile back to her face, but at least she could bury herself and perhaps never come out.

The pity party was crashed by her mother calling her to the dinner table. She had no choice but to crawl out of her blanket cocoon and enjoy a nice meal of… supermarket tacos.

Two thoughts battled for prominence in Jimena’s mind. The first was wondering how her parents could have possibly come from Mexico when they had the most Americanised tastes.

The second was the reopening of the recent wound caused by her friend.

¿Por qué no los dos?

Her mother heard her sigh and asked her how school was. Jimena shrugged, using the beef and lettuce in her mouth as an excuse not to talk. Her mother didn’t buy it. Not that she ever could, what with Jimena resting her feet on the table and scowling at no one in particular.

After lecturing her on keeping the table clean, she asked, ‘Why must you always wear those shoes? Is this because of that girl?’

As Jimena managed to prove, swallowing food in an unambiguously angry way was something humans could do. A light clink hit everyone’s ears as she kicked the salt shaker, causing it to collide with her mother’s plate.

‘Leave her out of this,’ Jimena said in the clipped voice of someone who wanted to yell but knew she would receive a yell in return.

Her father tried to speak calmly. Emphasis on ‘tried’.‘We’re just a little concerned that you’ve, well, been acting differently since befriending her. You used to be such a bright girl. And why won’t you wear the dresses I made you?’ His voice cracked a little at the question.

‘Well, maybe you should make clothes that I actually want to wear.’

‘I don’t appreciate that tone, young lady,’ her mother chastised her, raising her voice even louder. There it was: the yell.

‘Well, you’re going to hear that tone a lot longer if you don’t shut the hell up!’

Jimena shouted, getting out of her seat and storming off to her room. She then went back into the dining room to retrieve her tacos and brought them to her room.

She took her phone out and texted with one hand while holding one taco in the other.

My parents can step in dog shit while stuck in a time loop. Shit on their shoes for all eternity.

After a few minutes that felt more like fifty, Vinciane responded in an almost insultingly short text.

Mood

Rather than take the length as an insult, Jimena held her phone to her chest and giggled. She was unsure whether it was the heat from the phone or something else that made her heart feel so warm.

That sensation didn’t last long when she remembered that Vinciane lived with her aunt. She immediately texted an apology. She didn’t have to wait long before getting a message back.

Don’t sweat it. If I lived under their house, I would have to live under their rules. My aunt gets me better anyway. She’s even okay with my nose ring.

The two continued texting through the night, and not once did Jimena admit to looking forward to going to school the next day.

The day that followed involved Vinciane skipping class and, without even asking her, being followed by Jimena. Vinciane sat by the pond, a place students weren’t allowed to be within ten feet of, and took out a cigarette. Upon seeing the horrified look on Jimena’s face, she chuckled and lowered her eyelids until they were half-closed.

‘You worried these will turn me from a dyke to a fag?’ she asked in a strong Cockney accent. ‘Don’t worry, love, I would never leave you.’ She took a drag of the cigarette and opened her eyes fully, returning to her original accent. ‘Oh, speaking of which, any guys you think are cute?’

‘None as cute as you,’ Jimena murmured, then gulped when she saw that Vinciane heard her. The stone she was sitting on started feeling mighty uncomfy.

‘No, but seriously. No one? There’s a guy who’s got my eye- what’s wrong?’

Jimena was looking down, focusing her eyes on the hem of her plaid skirt as she fiddled with it. Anything to stop tears from falling.

‘I’m gay.’ A laugh came from Jimena’s mouth out of habit.

Vinciane joined in. ‘Yeah, yeah. So which guy do you like?’

Jimena shrugged. ‘No one at this stupid school.’

‘Fair point.’ Some of the smoke reached Jimena, who couldn’t help but cough. This earned a snicker from Vinciane. Jimena pouted and reached for the other girl’s cigarette packet. Vinciane guarded it with her free hand. ‘I don’t think you’re ready for that. Wait ‘til you stop sounding like you’re dying of tuberculosis.’

‘No way. If I’m going out, it’s gonna be human mad cow disease that takes me down.’

‘Or AIDs.’

Jimena smiled and gave Vinciane a finger gun. ‘Or AIDS.’ The two were silent for a moment as Vinciane finished her cigarette. She squished the butt into the ground and stood up, stretching her arms and yawning.

‘Um, why exactly do you go to school anyway if you’re going to skip class?’ Jimena eventually asked.

Vinciane brushed her fingers through her hair. The sight took Jimena’s breath from her. ‘I mean, you’re here. And where else am I going to go?’

Jimena didn’t know how to respond to that, not that her airless lungs would have allowed her to respond at all. All she could really do was look away from Vinciane’s plump lips and pray that she would soon be able to breathe properly again.

A decision managed to get air pumping through her veins again. She was going to come out for real, and she was going to make it as convincing as possible.

At home that night, she jotted down ideas for this ceremony onto her notes app. The following morning, she gave Vinciane vague details about an announcement she planned to make and a song she would use to do it.

‘Is this another one of your coming out ceremonies? This might be your most over the top one yet. Looking forward to it.’

‘No, no, it’s quite different. Okay, so for the announcement song, I will sing it to you and you’ll sit there all surprised.’

‘What will you be announcing?’

‘I have to make sure you look surprised.’

‘You saying I can’t act?’ Vinciane asked as she crossed her arms.

‘That’s not what I mean! I just want the song to be a surprise to everyone, including you. I may dance around you, by the way, so don’t be surprised by that. Focus on the content.’

‘So where are you going to say… er, sing this announcement?’

‘The cafeteria at lunch, two weeks for now. That should be long enough to write and rehearse a song, right?’

‘I guess. So are you going to play the song on your acoustic guitar?’

‘I was thinking of asking the music department to borrow one of their electric guitars. I think the song would be cool with a punk edge.’

‘Good luck getting one in two weeks. And an electric guitar kind of needs a band with it, so you’ll be spending a lot of those two weeks trying to get bandmates. Won’t the song be more, I don’t know, sincere sounding if it’s acoustic?’

‘You think so? You sure it wouldn’t be fake deep? I don’t want to sound like some hipster dude trying to pick up a girl at a coffee shop.’

‘If the lyrics are sincere, an acoustic guitar will highlight them. I doubt you’ll sound pretentious.’

Jimena took a deep breath and put her fist in her other hand as she exhaled. ‘Okay, I’ve got this.’

Vinciane stroked Jimena’s hair, not noticing the warmth radiating from the other’s cheeks. ‘I know you do.’

Instead of hanging out with Vinciane, Jimena spent lunchtime putting lyrics into her phone. Vinciane kept walking up to her and trying to sneak a glance, but Jimena’s screen-covering reflexes were way too good.

At home, Jimena continued typing on her phone, even during dinner. Cue the nagging from both her parents, whom she ignored.

As she lay in bed, she tried to continue typing away but the claws of doubt picked at her brain. She sat on her side, listening to the scarce sounds surrounding her. Her ears picked up the whir of a sewing machine, a sound that pulled her up like the strings of a marionette. After listening for a while with her eyes closed, the familiarity of the sound lulled her back down onto the bed.

She knew exactly what was going on and was tempted to tell her father not to bother, but the sound softened the pillow she lay on. She let it play in the background like an ambient album full of rain sounds.

Before she could fall asleep, and boy was she tempted to, an idea popped into her head. She sat up again and grabbed her guitar, playing riffs in time with her father’s sewing. The plucking of her guitar mirrored the sound of the needle.

She made a new note on her phone and wrote new lyrics referencing the sewing terms she could remember her father mentioning. Half an hour later, she put the phone down and got into her pajamas.

The first thing Jimena saw when she woke up was a finished dress hanging from the doorknob. A piece of paper was taped to the hanger, saying, ‘For when you perform your next song’. She smiled until she received a text from Vinciane. She pictured Vinciane scrunching her nose at her and tossed the dress next to the bin tucked in the corner of her room.

The following lunchtime, it was Take Two for Vinciane’s attempts to uncover Jimena’s lyrics. Once again, she failed.

‘Come on, can’t you show me a little bit?’

‘For the last time, no!’

A pout stayed on Vinciane’s lips for the rest of the day.

When she dropped her backpack by her bed, Jimena saw the dress her father had made neatly folded on the bed. She sighed and threw it back towards the bin, narrowly missing it. The next few days were a pattern of the dress appearing folded on the bed and her throwing it in the bin. Each day, her father’s shoulders drooped further and further until he looked like a caveman with depression.

During those days Vinciane didn’t pry any longer and instead spent the time sitting next to Jimena and offering words of encouragement as the girl silently edited her own lyrics. She reached for Jimena’s free hand but Jimena wriggled out of her grasp to start typing with two hands.

Once again, Vinciane pouted for the remainder of the day.

Jimena practised over and over again at home, at least until her mother yelled at her to knock it off. The ‘knock it off’ point was at 10 o’clock at night. She gave her mother the middle finger but did indeed knock it off.

However, she continued adjusting the sheet music and playing the song in her head well into the night. Naturally, this led to her coming to school with bags under her eyes and little patience for Vinciane’s gestures of friendliness. Apparently a quick, non-invasive question about how the song was going was enough to set off an atomic bomb.

‘Shut it, Vinny!’

Vinciane blinked and stepped back. ‘Sorry.’

Jimena almost apologised too but couldn’t bring the words out. Vinciane made sure not to bother her until the two weeks were up.

Having her muse not by her side made it both easier and more difficult to practice the song. On the one hand, more time to herself without worrying about the secret getting out. On the other, no words of support and no one to look at when she needed a boost of inspiration. Doubt’s claws scratched at her psyche again.

That night, she sat in the dark, Vinciane’s verging-on-tears face playing over and over in her head like a scratched CD.

The morning of the performance day was the same as usual, complete with the neatly folded dress on the bed. Jimena groaned as she shoved the dress into her backpack.

Vinciane didn’t show up at class. Alarms rang in Jimena’s ears. What if the most important audience member wasn’t there for the performance?

After changing at the beginning of lunch, she wasted valuable rehearsal time searching the school for Vinciane. She wasn’t at the pond nor behind the gardener’s shed where the druggies usually hung out.

It was five minutes before the end of lunch by the time she found Vinciane in a classroom. The same classroom Vinciane would have been in that morning had she not skipped class.

Vinciane’s eyes popped out of their sockets upon seeing Jimena in the dress. Its colour was not unfamiliar- black, as always. However, it was frilly and lacy and buoyant, paired with knee-high socks and a little bonnet. It was utterly adorable.

As soon as the shock wore off, she glared at her. ‘Come to tell me to shut it?’ Jimena tightened her grip on her acoustic guitar. ‘Or maybe you want to take me to the cafeteria so everyone can hear the song you refused to show me.’

Jimena stepped closer and began playing the guitar. She breathed in, then out, then in again.

‘You pull me in... like a thread caught in a sewing machine.’ She pronounced the last syllable of ‘machine’ pretty weakly to get it to rhyme with ‘in’.

She continued. ‘I don’t know where this is going. This sin.... gives me pins and needles, you’re giving me the feels. Now I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.’

She strummed the guitar rapidly, sending a warm sound to a smiling Vinciane. ‘I’m really sorry if I’m bursting at the seams. It’s so hard standing next to the girl of my dreams. When you’re edgy, I keep folding like a hem. It’s so hard to admit that you’re my favourite femme.’

Vinciane’s cheeks went red while Jimena’s playing slowed down. ‘Your jokes leave me in stitches but my foot’s in my mouth. I want to tell you how I feel but I don’t know how.’

Jimena circled around Vinciane’s chair, speeding up her strumming. Her heart was beating faster than the song but, for the first time, she wasn’t going to back out now.

She returned to the tune she started with. ‘Well, I’m as straight... as the hem of a big swing skirt. Don’t hate, I’m not looking to get hurt. A date... would be wonderful, don’t judge. My feelings simply won’t budge and I feel like this might as well be fate.’

It was time for the outro. ‘No, this is no joke. No this is no prank. I’m gay as fuck and with some luck, I got you in my ranks. This is the real me and yes, my heart is true. I’m not that tough, it’s all a bluff. Just know that I like you.’

Vinciane looked into Jimena’s eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She stood up and whispered in her ear, sending tingles down her spine.

‘You didn’t need to act tough, you know. I’d have liked you either way.’

‘Um, so about that guy you have your eye on-’ Jimena asked.

‘Oh, that?’ Vinciane’s smirk returned as she put her index finger against her own lips. ‘That was a lie. Just wanted to test the waters, plus I didn’t know how to tell you. You won’t get mad at me for that, right?’

Jimena shook her head and then rubbed the back of her neck. ‘So, uh, how does a date sound?’

‘Make it two. Then we can get a U-Haul. I’m still making the sandwiches, by the way. I’ve seen you in Home Ec and you kind of suck in the kitchen.’

Jimena giggled and grabbed her hand as the two walked out of the classroom. ‘Sounds like a plan. But for now, we should just focus on how to convince everyone else that we’re a couple for real this time.’

Vinciane shrugged. ‘Does it matter? I know and you know. Who cares what the others think?’

The bell rang and Vinciane followed Jimena into another classroom. During class, they spent less time listening to the teacher and more times sneaking glances at each other. Vinciane played with the ribbon attached to Jimena’s bonnet, twirling the pretty fabric around her finger. Jimena ran her kitten-heeled shoe over the spikes on Vinciane’s boot, smiling at the rough sound.

#lesbian #yuri #fiction #romance #writing #LGBT #lgbt romance #original fiction #drama #comedy #The Girl Who Cried Gay

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