#we’re closing for a week in august too and I’m losing it

[1-800-local-slut]

With a Heavy Heart- Chapter 3

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓈： 𝓈𝓉ℯ𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓃ℊ， 𝓋𝒾ℴ𝓁ℯ𝓃𝒸ℯ 𝒯𝒲： 𝒥*𝒽𝓃 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝒸****ℯ𝓇， 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝓊𝓈ℯ （𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝓃ℯℊ𝓁ℯ𝒸𝓉， 𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝒶𝒷𝒶𝓃𝒹ℴ𝓃𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉）, 𝒶𝓃ℊ𝓈𝓉，𝓈𝓂ℴ𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔，𝓂ℴ𝓃𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇𝓈，𝓁𝒾𝓉ℯ𝓇𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓅𝓁𝒶𝓃𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂𝓊𝓇𝒹ℯ𝓇 𝓁ℴ𝓁， 𝒥ℴ𝒽𝓃’𝓈 𝒶 𝒷𝒶𝒹 𝓅𝒶𝓇ℯ𝓃𝓉 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓌ℯ 𝒶𝓁𝓇ℯ𝒶𝒹𝓎 𝓀𝓃ℯ𝓌 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉，𝓂ℴ𝓂𝓂𝓎 𝒾𝓈𝓈𝓊ℯ𝓈

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August 16th, 1997

Dear diary- It’s been awhile, I know. But I have a lot to tell you, and I hope you're ready to hear about it. So to start off, mom’s been letting me take solos. I only take small , simple ones close to hers. I can’t hunt with her, she’s either always rushing or always in my way. The older I get it, the more it seems like my mom and I should just go our separate ways. This new system has been helping, she just gives me a few hundred dollars, a bus ticket, and sends me on my way if we’re out of state on spring break or something. Then she’ll call me when it's time for us to leave and meet me at whatever shitty diner she picks. I think when I get my own car though, (i’ve been saving up), I probably won’t see her anymore. Or at least not as often.

There won’t be much keeping me attached to her other than her being my mom. That’s starting to lose meaning in itself. Maybe I should wait until I’m 18. I’m going into my senior year, and I’ll take some time off to sort myself out. I don’t want to enter university to early. Two years off won’t really do anything, and once I turn 17 I’ll start applying to colleges. Or I’ll do online. I saw it on the news a few years ago, 1989, University of Phoenix started an online university. I have the proper grades and credentials to get into a good school and thanks to my stubbornness, I was able to stay in Maryland for school all four years. She also leaves me home alone most times. Said she couldn’t stay tied down in one state for too long. That’s her business though. I think she’s been gone for three weeks, right now she’s hunting a wraith in Wyoming. Then afterwards, she has a banshee in Florida. She won’t be back for a while.

She said her only rules are not to let anyone in at night, and keep an eye on any guest I have during the day. We’ve been staying at my Aunt Lacy’s house, she gave it to my mom when my mom told her we were moving here for school. Aunt Lacy left her car here too, but I don’t drive it often. I don’t have my license and I really do have to stay out of trouble here so I usually walk or catch a bus anywhere I need to go.

I like the house. It’s big, we have tons of space, I get my own room and my own room to do research for my cases. There are two guest rooms as well, I’ve been storing stuff in them though. My mom has never been big on research but she’ll do it if she has too or if she’s in the mood. I like research. It’s easy, and makes sense. I have broken her rules though.

Whenever Dean’s in Maryland or passing through, I let him stay here. He comes to visit me whenever he has the chance. Every time he leaves, it's like one of those movies where the woman sends her lover off to war. I don’t feel bad about breaking my moms rules. I personally feel like it’s not her business what I do. She literally chooses not to be here, it’s not like she’ll know. That’s the next thing I have to tell you! Dean’s bus gets here in a few hours, 7:30 in the morning. I’m excited. When Dean comes, it’s like my own little slice of peace in the world. He’s so sweet with me. He takes away the loneliness for just a few days.

Something else that helps with the loneliness is that mom let me get a cat. He was a stray kitten we found in Tallahassee on our move up here. We fought and I ran away over him, because I couldn’t take being alone anymore. She found me and let me keep him. His name is Salem. Salem Grim. I named him after the cat from Sabrina but I feel like the name fits.

He likes to come with me on my nightwalks and when I visit the cemetery. I’ve been going to visit grandpa every now and again. One issue with Salem is that he keeps trying to eat my cigarettes if he gets into my purse. He hasn’t succeeded in the three times I caught him trying.

 Speaking of those, I lost my cigarettes on the bus ride back from my last hunt. I noticed after dinner. I think they fell out of my purse when the driver swerved like a fucking crazy person and I smacked my head on the window. On the bright side, Dean can get them for me when he’s here and I won’t have to steal them from the convenience store. He's finally old enough to look 21 for his fake ID, John won't even bother him about drinking too much anymore either.

And let’s talk about Dean. He gets more and more handsome everytime I see him. I think I have a crush on him, but honestly? I don’t feel like dealing with that. I don’t think I’m ready. I have enough issues of my own to work through, and Dean’s too emotionally constipated to work through his own issues. He has a new girlfriend in every state. I have my own steady trail of broken hearts (plus if I flirt with Maya's older brother enough he'll get me all the cigarettes and hard liquor I want). Plus I don't want to confess then end up looking fucking stupid!

Would he even be loyal if he knew how I felt about him? He cheated on his last girlfriend (who cursed him out when she caught him and honestly she was right but I won’t tell him that) and even though sometimes it feels like he looks at me like I’m the only girl in the world that might not mean anything to him.

I’ll have to hit the grocery store when Dean comes by, he’ll drive in Lacy’s car for me  (I love when Dean drives me around, and does all the heavy lifting. It’s hot) and we’ll go together. I love that part of his visits when he gets to stay here for a while. I’m gonna head to sleep, I have to get him from the bus stop early in the morning. I’ll write more tomorrow.

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Dean stepped off the bus, the warm air touching his skin and he clutched his backpack. He squinted through the sunlight, and glanced around looking for his friend. Friend seemed like a bit of an insult these days considering his feelings, but he shook those thoughts from his head. All Dean was really worried about was getting into her nice, air conditioned house and away from the heat of the Sun.

He walked onto the sidewalk, and noticed a cherry red car across the street with the lovely lady he’s spent so much of his time with but not enough in his opinion. She was leaning against her aunt's cherry red 1969 Mustang convertible. God, she looked better every time he saw her. She had on a pair of cheetah print sunglasses and was chewing on a piece of gum.

He smiled at her, and jogged across the street to meet up with her. 

“Hey sweetheart.” With a coy smile matching his own, she pushed off the car and pulled him into a hug. He felt a pair of soft lips touch his neck right on his pulse. Good God. Part of him hoped she left a stain. He suppressed a pleased hum. Dean took a small chance and slid his hands down her waist. After a few seconds the two pulled apart. 

“How was your bus ride?” She asked him, walking around to the other side of the car and hopping over the door into the passenger's seat. Dean giggled, knowing she’d always let him drive. He liked it that way, it made him feel like he was her man. Even though he was 99.99% sure it was just because he had an actual license, he'd let himself be delusional. He liked his little rendezvous to Maryland. While he didn’t personally like the state, he liked who was in it.

“It was alright. I’m coming in from Maine so it was a bitch and a half getting here. Dad and Sammy are gonna head to Illinois but dad sent me to handle what’s been terrorizing y’all here in the Old Line state.” Dean responded, throwing his bags into the back seat. Right now he was just on a regular ghost hunt, a salt and burn. It’d take him a few days to deal with, but he was gonna stay for about a week. Even if he had to lie to his dad, which he was definitely about to do.

He liked having a place to return too with food in it that wasn’t a shitty motel. He liked having someone walking around in his t-shirts and flannel shirts, cooking breakfast and doing laundry. You know, instead of the three times it sometimes takes him and Sam to do their laundry correctly.

All he had to do was take out the trash at night, wash up the dishes, maybe cut the grass, and do manual labor. He literally does way harder work than that everyday. In return, he got to cuddle up next too the girl of his dreams every night. No other girl in any other state could compare to her. Sure there were a lot, but in each of them he looked for her. In each of them, he’d look for her strong personality, her unbreakable will and some level of the comfort, trust and safety he had with her. And sure he found girls with those traits, but still none of them were her. None of them could ever be her.

“Good. I just got back from a case in Pennsylvania a few days ago. I got jumped by skinwalkers.” She lifted her hair off her shoulder while she slipped her seatbelt on. Dean chuckled, knowing about her hatred of skinwalkers. She said something about them just made her angry, maybe it was the deceit. His eyes stuck to the way her hair framed her beautiful face despite the white bandana she had tied the front of her hair back to keep it from her eyes.

Ever since she stopped wearing her hair in braids all the time, Dean was enamored by her afro. He loved hearing her talk about it too. Learning about the different hair types during a trip to the hair store was strangely the highlight of his week last time he was here. It was big, and as much as she complained about it she also talked about how much she adored her own hair. Dean loved watching her pick her hair out, and comb her hair into braids before sleeping, and put her myriad of products that were in bottles like potions in her hair. He loved the silk texture of her hair ties and bonnets too.

“Is that your way of telling me you’re not riding with me for this one?” She glared at him playfully and then broke out into a smile but the question was a heavy one. Dean knew she hated leaving for hunts in general but, leaving for days plus encountering her least favorite monster? There’s no way she’d want to go find a ghost. He frowned a bit, knowing he’d be alone on the road for at least two days when she was just a few hours away from him. And no one can start a fire faster than her, which was a plus when one needed to light shit on fire.

“It’s my way of saying I will stay in the car and give moral support.” With a large, dramatic grin, Dean playfully rolled his eyes at her smile. Her hair glittered in the sunlight and it matched her beautiful smile. Starting the car, he grabbed the stick shift and reversed the car. 

They cruised down the street making leisure conversation until eventually they pulled up to the gorgeous home. The Sun shone on her skin, painting her a gorgeous sun kissed color. Her lips had gloss on them that Dean just wanted to kiss off. Pulling into the driveway and parking. Dean stepped out first, before he ran around the front of the car.

He popped open the car door for her and she stepped out, uttering a soft ‘thank you’. Handing him his bag, they began to walk up the porch, leaving the car on the street. It would be a few minutes of them in the house before they went to the grocery store, no point reopening the garage. Behind her Dean stopped staring at her from behind for a few minutes, and looked around. The neighborhood was beautiful, one with kids playing up and down the street, some adults rode past on their bikes calling out good mornings. In front of him, the younger huntress called back a good morning to a man on a bike who called out to her.

People knew her here. She had been here long enough for her neighbors to recognize her and wave hello when she got home. Long enough for her neighbors to raise an eyebrow upon seeing Dean go inside with her, clearly knowing it was just her and her mom. Dean felt a pang of jealousy, and another weight settled over him. She had normalcy. Consistency. Neighbors who worried about a strange young man entering her home, who knew that it was just her living in that big house. Who looked out for intruders, out of kindness for their teenage neighbor whose mom was always away working some job that prevented her from being fully present.

The front door unlocked and she pushed it open for Dean. He stepped inside, putting his bag down next to the door. The house was still beautiful, with its usual cozy air. The living room he stood in now was just as welcoming as it was last time he was here.

It was his 18th birthday, with her mom here with his dad and Sammy. They needed help researching a case. That same night Dean snuck out of the guest room and into her room where she left the door unlocked for him. The 16 year old laid on his chest while they watched TV, something simple. He still remembered the comfort her soft pajamas and many sheets gave to his tense muscles. She had asked him, ‘are you scared to turn 18’ and he replied ‘what do I have to be scared of’ and she didn’t answer. Then two hours later, 17 turned to 18 as the clock struck midnight. With a soft kiss to his clothed chest, she wished him a happy birthday.

 January 24th 1997, he laid in the room with her while she snuggled into him. He understood then what he had to be afraid of. Rain poured outside the window, the soft pattering of the rain matched his quickening heartbeat.  He was technically an adult now. He didn’t graduate high school, he didn’t have any other plans with his life that didn’t involve hunting (he honestly gave up quitting long ago but the idea still danced in his brain at times), he didn’t even have a job that gave him money.

What if some day he was given the chance to get out? What would he have then? He wouldn't be able to do anything, as far as the government is aware he just fell off the Earth with his dad and brother after a freak accident that killed his mom. How do you go back into the regular world? Waves of anxiety began to wash over him in just a few seconds and then they were washed away. He felt toned arms squishing him. 

“Happy Birthday, Dean.” She whispered softly. Right. He wasn’t alone. He relaxed his arms and relaxed his tightened grip on her that he didn’t even realize he had. 

“It’ll be okay. You’ll be okay, it’ll work out.” And Dean remembered those words fondly. He remembered how she smiled at him and ran her nails through his hair. That was when. That was the moment when Dean felt his heart swell with comfort and love. She held him through the short waves of panic, and from then Dean knew he wanted no one else in this world. Eventually they drifted off into a calm sleep, and Dean didn’t even wake up to sneak back into his room with his dad and Sammy. For once he let himself sleep in and nothing woke him while he was in her arms. Not Sammy, not his dad, nothing.

Now, Dean was sitting on a soft red porch swing, holding a glass of lemonade.

“Thanks sweetheart. So what’s the agenda for today?” He asked while taking a sip and holding his arm out for her to sit down next to him. She complied, and snuggled into his muscular frame. Dean loved holding her, she always felt like a pillow and smelt like lavender, vanilla and cocoa butter. A muscular arm wrapped around her and she brought her knees up for her chest and pressed her back into his side.

A book was placed down, with a steaming cup of tea on the small table right next to her and her purse right next to it. Wrapping her own arms around her knees Dean admired her face while she thought. Salem jumped up in front of the two and attempted to crawl onto his owner's lap and received head scratches. Dean reached around and gave the loveable cat some affection as well. 

“I was thinking we could hit the grocery store in about an hour, then the deli and the fruit market. I haven’t gone since I came back. Then we can do some research for your case, have dinner and get you set to head out tomorrow.” Of course she thought it all out. One of the many things he loved about her. He nodded and pulled her closer to him while she ran her hands over the fur of Salem.

“Can we get pie?” 

“I already put it on the list. Can you buy me cigarettes?” He hid a smile at hearing she already put his food on the list. It made his heart flutter and he hoped she couldn’t feel it. She frowned and muttered something about sooner rather than later.

“Only if you let me have beers too.” Upon hearing his request she snapped up and turned, slapping him on his chest. 

“Absolutely not! Last time you never finished them. I had to drink four on my own before my mom found them.” Dean laughed at the wagging finger in front of his face. In his defense, last time he had to leave early. John called him, saying Sam came down with a fever and he needed Dean back to help as soon as possible. So he woke her up three days before he planned to leave, told her the news and left to catch a bus to New York.

"Why didn't you just throw them away or give them to one of your friends?" Dean asked through breathless chuckles.

"I panicked and drank them all but then I was drunk and had to just toss the bottles out the window so they'd land in a bush." She laughed, hiding her face in her hands and Dean took special notice to how the Sun caught in her brown eyes. She way her shoulders shook lightly with each inhale.

“You can’t get ‘em without me sweetheart.” With a huff, she then playfully rolled her eyes and went back to leaning against him. Dean was just happy that she relished being around him in any capacity.

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It was dark now. The Sun fully set ten minutes ago, as Dean drove the car filled with groceries down the street. They’d been out all day, getting groceries, trying new food, and when she discovered that Dean only had three pairs of underwear, they went straight to the store to get him some new clothing. Now all they needed to do was pick up dinner, some beers and they’d have themselves a set night. A random song played through the radio. Her eyes were shut in peace while the wind blew across her face. Even at night, the moonlight illuminated her warm skin and kissed her cheeks. 

Returning his focus to the road, Dean continued to drive until he pulled up to a 7-Eleven across the street from a restaurant she told him had some really good Chinese food. Dean didn’t care though, as long as he got food in his body. 

“Get up.” He whispered as he nudged the still girl. He took the chance to stare at her. Her lashes fluttered against her skin and her two toned lips were plump and full. Dean admired her until her eyes quickly shot open. Creepy as shit but he’d let it go.

“Oh are we here?” She asked as she looked at Dean who averted her gaze. 

“We are. Let’s hurry up before the groceries go bad.” Dean repeated his usual habit of opening the door for her and she stepped out. As she laid her head on his shoulder covered in his dads leather jacket, she shook sleep out of her body. Standing still, Dean glanced up at the stars that twinkled through the sky. 

“I’m gonna go order the food. I want Marlboro blacks and nothing else.” With a stretch Dean stuck up a thumb and winked at her. 

“Oooo charming.” She remarked with a teasing smirk while the two separated from the parking lot. Dean entered the 7-Eleven, wandering to the back. He fucked around for five minutes, looking through magazines and CD’s. Then he spent another five debating which slushie he should get and if he even wanted one. He decided against it in the end. He grabbed two six packs of beers, then went up to the cash register. The cashier stared at him with a blank stare that sent a chill through Dean’s spine and activated some bloodlust in him that he only ever got while hunting. Still, it could’ve just been an actual chill. Maybe he was just cold.

“Marlboro blacks.” Dean kept his eyes glued on the woman who blinked up at him for two minutes. Then she broke out into a wild, large smile that allowed Dean to see all of her teeth and gums. He shuddered, as she swung her body around instead of simply turning her neck. Her arms seemed incredibly long, too long and thick for her small body. Like they were trying to change into something else. That certainly wasn’t normal. He licked his lips as his eyes narrowed as he contemplated his choices.

Did he kill it? Interrogate it? As Dean thought, he let his eyes travel to the glass the cigarettes were behind. He was met with purely white eyes in the reflection staring right back at him as a car drove past and the light shone in. Dean’s blood went cold. The woman was no longer smiling, a straight face with deep frown lines, while her long arms opened the display then threw the pack onto the counter behind her.

For a moment Dean was frozen. Completely frozen, which is the number one thing you should never do in an encounter like this. But he had no idea what this was. Did he leave it alone? Did he just run away? Did he say something to it? A few more seconds passed. Suddenly the door opened and in walked his huntress.

“What the fuck is taking you so long?” For some reason she didn’t come inside, but stuck the top part of her body inside.

“Nothing, I was just-” He started as the woman resumed moving around again, and she turned back to face Dean. Her eyes were completely normal and she blinked with a warm smile. 

“I got the food, let’s go.” She was rushing to leave, her mouth set in a deep frown. Dean nodded at her, left 20 dollars on the counter and grabbed a lighter on his way out.

“Thank you! Come again soon!” The ‘woman’ called while the two hunters fled. They made their way back to the car, and Dean didn’t even make sure the door was properly closed before he peeled off into the night, speeding down the empty streets. Glancing back in the rearview mirror, Dean saw two sets of white eyes standing in the street far behind.

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“That bitch was really creepy.” Dean said as he used his chopsticks to eat a piece of chicken.

“The dude I got was weird too. Ain’t nothing normal around here I guess.” She grumbled as she ashed her cigarette and Dean took a sip of his beer.

The two had gotten home, and pulled the car into the garage and unloaded the groceries in silence.  The two took a much needed shower, and Dean saw her putting her hair into four large braids before slipping on a silk bonnet.

Then, after doing the usual nightly routine of locking all the doors and windows, the two were sat in the living room eating dinner while the TV played the weather in the back. A silver hatchet sat next to Dean as he flipped through a book in front of him that was on the coffee table. Next to the huntress's food, was a gun loaded with silver bullets. The two had been reading through the lore now, and realized they had encountered two shape shifters with terrible social skills.

“God, you want one normal night and here come the bums to ruin everything.” She scoffed, taking a drag of her cigarette and blowing out the smoke. She finished eating and opened up her spring rolls, taking a bite out of one before she lifted the book off the table. Folding her legs over the arms of her recliner, she pulled the book into her lap and sighed. Salem once again jumped onto her lap, she pressed a kiss to his forehead and the cat purred, nuzzling his head into his owner. 

“Well, we take care of those two, and you can have all the normal nights you want until the next bottom feeders roll in.” Dean’s green eyes scanned over the page. His brain was unable to focus, feeling fried from all the reading.

“Says here they tend to live in packs.” Read off the young woman but she frowned. Now she had to hunt a pack. Fun. Dean had his own thing, he wouldn’t have time to help her hunt a whole pack. First skinwalkers, and now their freaky ass cousins. With an aggressive sigh, she slammed the book shut and threw it on the floor. It landed with a thud on the rug and she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Aw, don’t pout.” Mocking laughter added to her annoyance. Dean watched her flick her crumbs off her fingers at him. He took his final sip of beer and finished off his first one of the night. He let out a belch with his eyes flickering to her plump lips drinking from the bottle. He shoved a piece of chicken into his mouth and he grinned at her. 

“Let’s look into your ghost guy now.” Dean groaned remembering his own hunt. Son of a bitch, he forgot all about that.

“Ghost AND shape shifters? You should consider moving.” Folding his hands he leaned back against the couch.

“Haha. Come on, I’ll go on my hunt tomorrow, you’ll go on yours and we’ll see each other soon enough.” Dean wasn’t sure when she got up and retrieved her book. But there she was standing over his sitting form with Salem in her hand like he was a baby. Pushing the book into his chest with her free hand, Dean let out a groan of exasperation. 

“Read the book!” She scolded as he began to playfully fight her on the couch. Salem jumped free and Dean took the chance to grab her arms and swing her into his lap.

“No! Read it to me, like a bedtime story.” He pulled her body into his with brute strength and she squealed. 

“Dean no, I have to do my own research!” She was laughing but Dean knew she was right. He rested his chin in the crook of her neck and let out a low grunt. The silk of her bonnet tickling his forehead.

Suddenly the world and his heart beat slowed, and time stopped as they made eye contact. His skin felt warm from the weight of her sitting on him he could notice every little thing. Her breath seemed to hitch, and her eyelashes fluttered.

Dean wanted to slowly, ever so slowly, bring her closer and plant a tender kiss on her lips. It was like this force existed between them, pulling them closer and closer together with each passing second. A The pull felt like it came right from his chest and his eyes wanted to flutter shut on their own for a deep kiss.

Would she hold his face in her hands while he held her hips? Would she turn her body to face his, and place her legs on the side of his? How would she kiss him, slowly? Then, she'd push up against him, and they'd refuse to part for air until totally necessary. His hands would find her thighs and squeeze the soft, doughy flesh and maybe she'd let out a small whimper while he pressed kisses down her neck. Down the front, deeply inhaling her scent and feeling her shudder lightly.

How did they go from playing to suddenly being sucked into their own little world? And how could Dean ever be expected to leave?

She tore her eyes away first and brought her attention back to the book. Right, the book. And the rest of the world. Blinking, Dean was able to clear his mind even if just for two seconds.

Someone had to take care of the two shapeshifters they had encountered tonight as well as the ghost. As much as Dean wanted to kill them himself or even wished he took the chance to fight while he was still in the store, he didn’t. Now he’d probably return to an empty home while she cleared out the shapeshifters.

“Ooorrrr we can go back to the store tonight, kill the shapeshifters, and then tomorrow you can give me that moral support from the car!” He suggested, burying his face in her neck. She rolled her eyes playfully. He should’ve known she wasn’t going to head back out. The  minute they came in she ushered him into the shower, complaining that he smelt like outside and 7-Eleven. She was comfortable in her pajamas and slippers.

“Or, since you’ll miss me so much we can clear out the shifters tomorrow, and then we go do the ghost thing.” Dean’s eyes lit up like it was Christmas. Of course! It was genius! Start up here, catch the two and find their pack if  they were with a pack. In that case, Dean would have to stay and handle them and he’d get to stay with her. If not they’d drive down to Baltimore and get the ghost! Either way they stayed together, it was perfect.

“Of course I’ll help you out sweet heart.” She scoffed and placed her cigarette in his mouth. Taking a drag he exhaled and gave her a toothy grin.

“Okay, let’s head to bed. I leave early for my hunts.” Dean protested as she shut off the TV. When she said early, she without a doubt always meant early. He knows because he remembers the last time everyone was together, and she woke up at 4:30 with her mom for their own hunt and the two were back in time for lunch.

And she stayed true to her word. It was 4:30 when Dean woke up to her rising out the bed, wiggling out of his tight grasp. The two hunters were now in the car, loaded with everything needed to kill a ghost, a shifter, some tupperware containers with lunch (some curry chicken and white rice and he felt honored knowing she remembered his favorite dish of hers) and 4 beers in a cooler. Dean drove silently, the Sun rising as they made their way back to the 7-eleven. At least Dean knew it would be quick. She never had time to converse on her hunts, always preferring to just aim, kill and go back home. Dean could do the interrogating of the other shapeshifter at the food shop. 

“If they aren’t here, I’m gonna give up.” Whispered the girl. Even though it was still incredibly early in the morning, she still looked perfect. Her brown eyes had slight bags under them and she was fidgeting with the ends of the two large braids she neatly plaited her hair into. Her cargo pants slightly twisted around her body and she quickly adjusted them. Pulling up to their location, Dean watched as she pulled out her gun and handed Dean his hatchet.

“You think you’ll need backup?”

“No, a silver bullet and he won’t put up a fight.” Dean found it sexy when she talked like that, all determined and smart. He watched her with a crooked smile and he wet his lips with his tongue. Green eyes scanned her curved figure like they were the last thing they’d ever see. Dean would be very pleased if she was the last thing he ever saw.

“In and out.” He nodded back, feeling the fire pump through his blood that he always got before a hunt. That thrill would never leave Dean, as sick as it was. He was about to do some good, save some lives, and take a few in the process. He watched her cock her gun, as she walked towards the Chinese restaurant and he adjusted his grip on the hatchet, entering the convenience store. Maybe he’d get a slushy on his way out.

༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻༺༻

Notes:

And that's part two, I hope you're all enjoying this story so far! Also, weird fact, the title of this was originally 'Apple Pie and Cigarettes' but I kept thinking of Apple Jack from MLP for some reason? It was so weird, cuz I watched that show like 1000s years ago when I was little and I hardly watched it but thats a tiny part of why I changed the title. But part of me really wants to change it back, I liked that title.

Its a way for me to show that Dean and the reader aren't burdened by the weight of the world together, they don't have any expectations together. They can just enjoy themselves with the simple things. They aren't these big serious hunters when their together, their just a normal couple enjoy their vices at the end of the day. Anyways, I'm still considering it <3

Also please let me know if you want to be added to my Dean Winchester taglist or this series taglist in the notes <3

Dean Winchester Taglist:

@roseblue373

@titty-teetee

[sun-in-retrograde]

Outer Planet Astrology 6 November Week

I’m going to try doing this again - it’s nice to do a bit of writing and follow the aspects of my favourite dwarf planets. 

I don’t follow Pluto because while it’s pretty much the same as Eris in size - it’s covered by a lot more people. However it’s really active in the energies of other Dwarf planets this week. It’s a very Plutonian battle for survival kind of week, so lets get into it. 

Eris 

Eris is very much in its retrograde and this is interesting because it’s also conjunct the North Node - the speed of the two points are roughly the same and they’ve been within a 1 degree conjunction since 29 August and will remain so until 14 December. The way these two points have lined up to keep this going is pretty rare - the closest I can see to this was in 1968. 

Eris can often be about standing your ground and fighting for your space, and conjunct the North Node it will be aiming for that survival. This time round that came to a fore when Mars opposed Eris and Hamas attacked Israel sparking off Israel’s brutal reprisals. Last time round, when Mars trined Eris the USSR invaded Czechoslovakia.

So we have real fight or die energy present and on Saturday the Moon will oppose this. We may be looking at emotional exhaustion and an attempt to balance the high energies we’ve had over the past month.  

Sedna

Sedna is on a slow retrograde. It starts the week just ten minutes into Gemini and by the end, it’s 6 minutes into Gemini.Sedna will re-enter Taurus this month - a sign it’s been in since 1965 and only just left. 

On Wednesday, Sedna will have an exact trine with Venus. There’s also a less exact trine to Pluto, making this a grand trine. This feels to me like an opportunity to interrogate values - why you hold them and whether they serve you. Added to all this, there’s a close square between Saturn and Sedna. Which makes me think we’re not just interrogating our values, we’re jettisoning some of them. The bad end of this could be getting rid of your moral code. The positive is very similar - how many scruples do we hold that aren’t healthy? Can we get rid of them?

On Thursday the Moon will meet Venus. This could make things more emotional, if this whole thing shows up in your chart. This could be a useful time to consider things but on Friday Mercury is opposite Sedna. This could create a situation where people let their ethics get in the way of doing the right thing. Excluding people for being immoral when they might need us. Offering the enemy no quarter when we may actually need to come to a compromise.

Orcus 

Orcus is sextile the Sun for the end of the week, becoming exact next Sunday. The Sun is at 16 degrees of Virgo. This may be a time to get lost in your thoughts and interests, if you’re susceptible to this aspect and feel like indulging. Or if you can’t avoid doing so. 

Gonggong

Gonggong closely opposes Lilith all week. Lilith in Virgo is such an odd symbol - the Virgo is the Virgin, and Lilith is the OG monster fucker. I feel that Lilith in Virgo is Lilith throwing itself into doing the right thing so deeply that it loses itself a bit. Or rejects it entirely. This may be morals, but it could also be self care: having a twenty part skin care regime or saying fuck it and buying some cigarettes. 

Gonggong is a planet of revelations currently swimming in emotional Pisces at 4 degrees. If this interacts with your chart it may emerge as a realisation on what you can and can’t manage. It may be a time when you flip between too much dieting and self-care, and not enough. Or vice versa. 

Haumea

Haumea is trine Saturn within 1 degree - Haumea, an egg shaped world of growth and expansion, is at zero degrees of Capricorn. On Saturday, it trines Saturn in Pisces. This sounds quite nice, a chance to reduce your expectations for growth and live within your means. Something we maybe need at the moment. Haumea is square to Pluto all of this time, which feels honestly awkward because that means it’s semisextile Saturn. Haumea may have a sense of expand or die, while Pluto absolutely can’t see why Saturn is trying to put on the breaks. 

The Outer Planets Weather

The key concept for the week seems to be values - are they good? Even if they are, can we afford them? Eris and the North Node gives us a sense that now is the time to push forward if we want to be able to hold our ground. However, this has been going on for an age and this week offers some chances to step back and reconsider. Or be exhausted and give up. Consider your options carefully

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Fic Titles That Are Questions Masterlist

Links Last Checked: August 10th, 2024

part two

can i go where you go? (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: dan and phil find time to settle down.

a proposal, a marriage, a honeymoon, and an adoption.

the life they'd always secretly wanted.

Do You Believe In Magic? - doomedhowell

Summary: Dan and Phil live in a world where magic exists. They’ve grown up together in a same small town and have learned to hate each other. One day a ‘witch’ casts a spell on them to make them switch bodies with each other. They spell can’t be undone until they learn to get along.

Does This Make Us Official? - doomedhowell

Summary: Dan Howell is a shy boy who doesn't really have any friends because no one likes him. Phil Lester is the school bad boy who's the captain of the football team and smokes too much times. One day, he notices Dan in the busy school hallway and talks to him. They form a friendship that turns into something more after the football game.

helplessly helpless: I’m alive, can you hear me? (ao3) - MANIAvinyl

Summary: Dan’s been in a relatively good place. He’s kept his head screwed on tight recently. So because the worst of the storm has passed he feels like it’s on him to help the world to de-stigmatize talking about mental health. When he mentions this to Phil, though, it’s finally revealed how much the last few years have impacted his best friend, too.

Really, I just wanted to explore Phil’s side of the story regarding Daniel and Depression. Because mental health doesn’t just affect the individual; it also affects those close to them, in ways we can’t imagine until we’re the ones on the other side.

how can we fight when i'm too busy loving you? (ao3) - smallbump

Summary: phil is hurt but he's also in love, like he always has been.

How could I ever ask for more? (ao3) - LiterallyAmazingPhan

Summary: He hurries back to their flat, as fast as he can. Somebody was going to jump and there was no way to be sure, but it may as well be his flatmate. Running home, he contemplates the possibility of losing it all in one night and wonders if his feelings have been bottled up inside for too long. Will he ever see his best friend again?

How Do You Talk to an Angel? (ao3) - SeasonsofLauren

Summary: Every one at their school loves Dan Howell, and Phil Lester is not an exception.

How many calories? (ao3) - Hannah2003

Summary: Dan becomes anorexic after a innocent comment phil makes.

How Much For That Bear In The Window? - venuslester

Summary: Dan, an eighteen year old boy who has finally reached the age to be sold from the whorehouse he used to call home, is given to a man with dreamy blue eyes who makes this seem a lot less terrifying. 

How Much for that Omega in the Window? (ao3) - creativityatbest

Summary: Dan is an omega; he was born into suffrage, with an omega mother and beta sister too young for work. Dan’s family often found themselves with pennies and dollars to get by on. That, of course, is until Dan makes the decision to sell himself to an Alpha sex ring. Things won’t be too bad with his new owner Phil, right?

i'm not a saint but do I have to be? (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil's very serious about his role as a prefect and Dan just wants his attention (and some fun).

"Sir, How Old Is The Boy?" (ao3) - fourthingsandawizard

Summary: “Let me see that,” Dan said, grabbing the tin out of Phil’s hands and examining it for himself. When he finally deciphered the scrawled writing, he groaned loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What’s wrong?” Phil asked almost in a whisper, his hands suddenly going clammy. “Is it not just decaf like I thought?”

“Phil, you blind bat!” Dan exclaimed, turning the tin around and pointing at the label. “It says ‘deAGE,’ not ‘deCAF!’”

- - - - - - - -

Dan and Phil take a quick break from their world tour, staying in an Airbnb that Martyn and Cornelia rented for the week from an eccentric Australian wizard. When Dan wakes up one morning as his ten-year-old self after drinking a magical tea that Phil accidentally brewed for him, they're forced to look for a solution before their viewers—or Martyn—can find out about it.

Where's Mine? (ao3) - iihappydaysii

Summary: During a live show, Dan and Phil discuss the Disney World disaster that was their most recent holiday with their kids.

Who Are You Again? (ao3) - TheKidFromYesterday

Summary: Dan wakes up with no memory of where he is, why he's there and who that very cute guy is.

who'd have known? (ao3) - CallofTheCurlew

Summary: Nerd!Dan and Badboy!Phil meet at a club Dan isn't even sure he wants to be at. But it's his last year of university, and those are made for memories. Allegedly.

Who's Kinker Than Who Now? (ao3) - Analphancones

Summary: Dan and Phil wanna know who's kinkier in bed, and a friendly argument about it leads to them wanting to prove who was the real winner.

Who's Taking You Home Tonight? (ao3) - whatkindoffanfics

Summary: October, 1944. While World War II rages on, Dan Howell finds himself thrown into the secretive world of Bletchley Park, a headquarters for intercepting and breaking the codes of encrypted German messages.

Who Needs A Color? - jilliancares

Summary: Dan Howell had decided to stop caring if he ever finds his soulmate, and he most certainly does not care if he ever sees the color blue.

You Can Come Join Me? - awesomesockes

Summary: Dan isn’t a youtuber, but Phil is. Phil’s in the middle of a younow when Dan wakes up from a nap and enters the room, so Phil introduces Dan as his bf and it’s super sweet and fluffy. And maybe Dan’s super shy so he just kinda smiles and sits there cuddling Phil.

[kellerybird]

Somehow…

I feel like I had more freedom when I worked full time

Yes, 8 hours of my day five days a week was spent at work, compared to the ~4 hours a day four days a week I average working part time now…

But life was steady, stable, and secure

Arguably that feels more freeing than the extra free time

I didn’t need to stress about making ends meet, about being able to afford food, about what to do with myself, abut not being able to afford to take time off

I’ve been looking casually at full time jobs for a while, but I think it’s time to push forward with getting one

[the-dream-team]

Can I Try Again

Another ridiculously fluffy one-shot for @efkgirldetective's summer of jily week four prompt: picking berries // I know I've kissed you before, but I didn't do it right // the entire song, pink in the night <3

She is beautiful and he is in a perpetual state of falling. Down and down and down the goddamn rabbit hole, but somehow the further James plummets, the brighter his life becomes. It’s the kind of brightness that blinds him- somewhat painfully- and leaves his vision spotty, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lily Evans walks ahead of him, a spring in her step, sunshine pouring through her hair. She’s cut it short for the summer, just above her shoulders, and he’s mesmerized by the way it bounces around her neck as she walks through the gardens of his family’s home. It’s an image he’s played over in his head an infinite number of times, but his rosiest daydreams don’t hold a candle to the real thing. The afternoon light hits his glasses just right and suddenly there’s a halo of glowing stars framing her as she tucks a dark red strand behind her ear. He can’t even see her face, but it doesn’t matter. I could stare at your back all day.

He is the luckiest boy in the world and every moment is made up of the sweetest form of torture. Agony and exuberance whipping his heart back and forth like a rogue Bludger.

She must know, he thinks. Must have some sort of clue that she’s occupied every corner of his mind for well over a year now. Even more so now, after the platform. He wishes more than anything for the ability to read minds as she glances over her shoulder with those startlingly green eyes, that friendly grin.

He can’t help but smile back- or maybe he was already smiling before she even turned around. It doesn’t matter. By some miracle, she’s here, and he can only marvel at the kindness of fate.

***

It had been a passing comment. One of those early morning conversations as his friends frantically scribbled out unfinished essays while shoving waffles down their throats. Chatter muffled by mouthfuls of eggs and yawning. Remus had commented offhandedly about the fruit bowl being passed around, and then-

“Oh, raspberries are my favorite.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t already looking at her when she spoke. But truthfully, he was always looking at Lily, a habit he’d long since stopped fighting once he realized how fruitless his efforts were. She was beautiful and he was hopeless. Simply lucky to be in her presence. She was the sun, and he, but a lonely planet, entirely reliant on and endlessly seeking out her light.

Sirius spoke the words James should have if his mind hadn’t gone fuzzy from hearing her voice.

“You know, the Potters have a raspberry patch in their gardens.”

“Oh, really?” She glanced from Sirius to James with a brilliant smile and excited eyes, so purposefully glued to his that he had to duck his head and rake a hand through his hair to hide his heating cheeks.

“That’s right,” he said more to his plate of sausages than to her. “They’re usually ripe to pick by early August.” When he peered back up, she was still looking his way.

“You should come over this summer and take some off our hands,” said Sirius casually, turning towards James as if it had been his idea.

“Yeah,” he jumped in a little too eagerly. “I mean- if you’d like, you’re more than welcome.”

Her smile widened, rounding the apples of her cheeks in a way that made his stomach flip pleasantly. “That sounds like fun.”

He assumed she’d forget the conversation, it had been just another morning, just another casual chat among housemates, but that didn’t keep him from daydreaming about the potential of a far-off day in August rather incessantly during the following months. But then as the school year ended and summer rolled on painfully slowly (and Lily-less), an owl arrived. And her handwriting crawled across the page like a message written in the clouds.

***

Lily swings the woven basket back and forth in her pursuit of the best raspberries. There’s already an impressive bounty growing in her basket, far more than he’s managed to collect- too busy watching her kneel down and pluck berries off their delicate branches to pick any of his own.

He turns to a leafy bush, green and lively and swaying slightly in the warm breeze, and quickly pinches off a handful of berries in an attempt to catch up with her. When she spins around, he’s thankful for the distraction. A minute earlier and she would have caught him staring. Again.

She smiles pleasantly and brushes her fringe off her sweaty forehead with the back of her wrist. James’ heart leaps into his throat.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says, but not accusingly.

“No I haven’t,” he responds, voice gravelly from underuse. “Just been busy picking raspberries.”

She glances at his measly basket, then back to his face with arching brows and an amused smirk.

He can’t help his own guilty grin. “Alright, Evans, I’m sorry we can’t all be unreasonably talented at everything we do.”

“It’s berry picking, Potter,” she laughs, “not advanced Arithmancy.”

In retaliation, he plucks a raspberry off of the nearest branch and playfully throws it at her. She somehow has the gall to lean her head back and catch the goddamn berry between her teeth. His brain short circuits. He’s quite certain his jaw is on the ground. She acts as though this is no big deal, swallowing the fruit with a satisfied smile, her tongue brushing her lower lip before tossing another into her mouth.

“Oh, these are delicious!”

He can’t form a response even if he wants to. Even if it was a matter of life or death, which it sure as hell feels like. He can only stare at her mouth, at her lips stained raspberry-pink, and lose himself in the knowledge that he knows how they feel against his own- even just briefly.

***

The platform teemed with students stretching their legs after the long journey home from school, saying their goodbyes to friends as their families greeted them for the summer.

A pit sat in James’ stomach- heavy and demoralizing- the entire train ride back to London. He knew she’d be gone soon. Back with her parents in Cokeworth for two excruciating months before their seventh year began. He’d taken their close proximity for granted during the school year, and as he faced a summer without the promise of her warmth, he wondered if it was even possible living in the dark.

He laughed loudly at a joke Peter told, overcompensating for the fact he’d missed the punchline while his thoughts were spiraling over her. Sirius shot him a look that suggested he wasn’t doing a great job of masking his emotions. Had it been so obvious the entire way home? Could she have noticed the despondency in his eyes, heard the heavy thumping of his heart? He rolled his eyes at Sirius and mustered up the most unbothered smirk he could manage.

But then, without warning, she was in front of him.

“Alright, Potter, don’t let your head overinflate while I’m not around to keep you grounded.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Evans,” he laughed, thankful his voice sounded steadier than he felt. “Just so long as you promise to consider switching your loyalties to Puddlemere. There’s no way the Harpies even make it to the semi-finals this season, and I can’t bear seeing you heartbroken again.”

“Oh, piss off, Potter,” she replied, but the way she threw her arms around his neck seemed to argue she didn’t mean what she said. Instinctually, he hugged her back, and thank Merlin he had her to hold onto as the wind was knocked out of his lungs at her touch. An overwhelming warmth sparkled across every surface their bodies met, and it took every ounce of control he had to restrain the truly pathetic sigh that threatened to escape his throat.

“And I haven’t forgotten,” she spoke into his shoulder, breath hot thorough his t-shirt, “you promised me berry picking this August.”

It would be impossible to miss the rapid beating of his heart through his chest pressed up against hers. “I’m already counting down the days.”

When she pulled back, hands resting on his shoulders for a beat longer than expected, his body moved faster than his brain could keep up with. He leaned forward, aiming for her cheek, but miraculously landing against her mouth- connecting for the briefest of moments before parting again, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. If it weren’t for the ghost of her lips still burning against his own, he might have thought he’d dreamt it.

“Lily, I’m not waiting any longer, we’re leaving, now,” came the unpleasant voice of her sister from across the platform.

Lily’s disoriented smile faltered slightly before she composed herself again, meeting his eye. “I’ll see you in August?”

“Yeah, August,” he somehow said with his mouth still tingling, forever changed by what they now knew.

***

The memory of her lips, how they feel pressed between his smile, is harder to ignore when they’re in front of him. He can remember the warmth where they touched him over a month ago and absentmindedly he brings a raspberry to his mouth so he can imagine how she must taste.

His emotions were hard enough to control before he knew what he was missing, but now they are impossible to reign in. He forgets how to breathe, and as a result, his head spins maddeningly. Unsure of how much longer he can stand up straight without making a fool out of himself, he walks forward and lays a hand on Lily’s back- partially to lead her forward, partially because the desire to be connected to her in any way is driving him mad.

She lets him guide her through the rows of bushes, under an ancient wooden archway, and across a courtyard of blossoming poppies and forget-me-nots enclosed by walls of hedges. Yellow and purple petals reflect brilliantly in her green eyes, creating their own fields of wildflowers within her irises. He walks her towards a wide, circular fountain in the middle of the grass where bubbling water spills over onto stone tiers and pours into the basin below, its floor littered with glinting coins, dancing under the water’s rippling surface.

He sits down and she follows suit on the stone ledge surrounding the water, partially shaded by an impressive plum tree. Cool droplets spray off the fountain, refreshing like summer rain singing I love you, I love you, I love you. Lily glances his way and he wonders if she can hear his thoughts.

“Are we finished picking berries?” she asks, eyes squinting and nose crinkling in the sun.

“I figured you had enough to feed a village.” He reaches over and grabs a raspberry from her basket and she gasps in faux outrage.

“Are you really stealing my raspberries, Potter?”

He adores his name on her tongue. “My apologies,” he says, pulling a silver Sickle out of his pocket and sliding it over to where she sits. She looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “For your troubles. Go on then, make a wish.”

“Oh!” Her eyes light up and she takes hold of the coin, lifting it to her heart as she closes her eyes in search of a wish.

He thinks he could look at her forever. Happy, sunkissed, an unconscious smile playing across her lips. With her eyes shut, he uses a minute to take a deep breath, attempting to calm his racing heart and compose his dopey grin. They’re sitting close together, knees almost touching with the basket of berries between them. As she tosses the Sickle behind her shoulder, he smells the faint scent of her vanilla shampoo.

She noticeably tries to hide her smile when her eyelids flutter back open.

“What did you wish for?” he asks, unable to stop himself.

She freezes with her eyes locked on his. A pink blush spreads across her cheeks, growing darker the longer he stares back at her. “I can’t tell you,” she says, words sounding choked, “or else it won't come true.”

Her flushed face awakens something in his chest, a confidence that blooms magnificently, turns his nervous, pattering heartbeat into a steady, powerful drum.

His voice drops to a hoarse whisper when he asks, “Can I guess?”

Her breath hitches. “I think you might already know, James.” Her words, the sound of his name, melts him down to a puddle. By some miracle, she continues speaking. “Look, I know I’ve kissed you before-”

“But I didn’t do it right,” he says frantically, his hands finding her face and brushing through her hair. He starts to understand why people advise against looking directly at the sun because being this close to her fills him with such astounding emotion he thinks he might explode. She stares up at him, blush deepening, lips parting, and he takes a ragged breath. “Can I try again?”

This time, when she smiles, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

He leans in slowly, letting their breath mix together, their noses bump lightly before he closes the space between their lips. She’s soft and warm and beautiful and radiant and he’s never felt a happiness quite like this one, never experienced a kiss this perfect. His fingers travel over her scorching skin and brush her neck as he deepens the kiss, tasting the raspberries on her tongue, his heart soaring as she responds blissfully until they’re both left breathless.

“And again?” she asks, pulling him back with a smile against his lips.

“And again,” he smiles back, marveling, once again, at the kindness of fate.

[gb-patch]

Ask Answers: August 8th

Well, doing big posts all together worked for a while but lately I’ve been putting it off because it takes a long time to get them done. I think I’m gonna try switching back to answering asks whenever I can fit it in and posting them one at a time instead of waiting until I’ve filled out one of these major collections.

But for now, here’s more ask answers! Thank you for the questions and for all the kind words along with them ^^.

Hello!! I'm here to ask if its possible to get  the game and its dlcs on steam and play it on android?

I’m afraid not. Steam doesn’t have Android builds on their own site and Steam is not cool with keys for other sites being given out for Steam purchases, so you don’t get the Itch version from buying on Steam.

Hello! Sorry to bother you but, I had a question, if we buy the Game on itchio do we get steam keys or would we need to purchase it twice? 

You would have to buy it twice if you want it in both places, I’m sorry. To repeat myself a little, Steam doesn’t like the key trading thing. Itch may support giving keys for another site, but the reverse isn’t doable with Steam and Steam doesn’t even really want you to get a Steam key for buying somewhere else either. So we just don’t mess around with that.

hey, sorry if this is frequently asked, but is step 4 free dlc or paid for? some of your sources are contradicting each other. 

It’s free! There’s a paid wedding DLC, but Step 4 itself is entirely unpaid.

Hello! I just had a quick question, for the Baxter and Derek DLC's will we be able to confess our feelings to them or let them confess to MC? or will it only be one way? (they confess to MC)

Both type of options will be available!

Hey there! I wanted to ask whether or not the Derek DLC is still on track to be released in August since on the steam discussion board it says it will be released mid 2021. I totally understand if it isn't, I'm just really looking forward to it! If you answer then ty! And keep up the amazing work :D 

It’s not, aha. Unfortunately, 2021 wasn’t easier than 2020 as we hoped so things are still slower than planned. It’ll come out late 2021 or early 2022.

Hi! Firstly I just want to say that I LOVE Our Life. I have played a bit of similar games but this one instantly wins for the best one! Everything about it is amazing! I just wanted to ask if Derek would ever lose feelings for MC, like if they make the deal and then MC gets with Cove would he move on? and even if you don't, after "losing contact" would his feeling fade or would he still like MC? 

If you don’t really keep in touch with him and clearly move on with your life, Derek will too and he’ll be over it. But if you are still close as best as you can be, he’ll still think the MC is special. Though, he’ll always support your relationship with someone else if that’s what’ll make you happy.

Hello! Sorry if you've answered this before but: 'How's Lee related to us? Though which momma? And does she share our player-chosen last names? Also, do you know if Noelani took Pam's last name or did it happen the other way round? 

She’s related to Pamela and Pamela’s last name is the one they use, so the MC has the same last name as Lee.

Will we be able to choose which (they or he) we tend to call Qiu by more often, or will it randomly change depending on the moment? 

Qiu knows which pronoun they’re comfortable with at a time and you’ll call them what they’re happy with. And it doesn’t change between lines, it takes multiple scenes or even full Steps for it to switch. So for extended periods Qiu will be totally a guy or fully agender.

Will Step 4 of OL2 have moments?

It’ll be an epilogue like it is in OL1, so it won’t have a bunch of different Moments.

Hello! Just a quick question, is Sunset bird from OL1 based on a real location? If so what's it called? I wanna visit it +_+

ps i love your games so much <3

It isn’t based on one specific town you can go to, but there are a lot of little coastal towns in Cali that have a similar vibe!

Heyaaa ( I hope you're all well ), umm… it might seem kinda stupid to ask but did Patreon members can have a key for the dlc's ( all the steps-released dlc ) even if they became a member this month or later ? (me? saying this cuz it's my case? maybe ;-;), and once again thanks for absolutely all the amazing works on all the games ! u-u 

You wouldn’t get the DLCs for backing there. The Patreon is for extra bonus content/early access, rather than being a storefront to purchase the normal DLCs. Rarely we give them out as a side gift, but it hardly happens and if what you want is the DLCs it’s best to ignore the Patreon and  buy keys for those directly from Itch or Steam. I’m sorry for the confusion.

Hey y'all, love what youre doing w/Terry. Trans rep outside of player customization is so rare and important to see more of so thank you so much. I do have a question and its that does he have a canon sexuality? I know Miranda was said to be straight ace but I dont believe anything was stated for Terry probably because he wasnt revealed to be a guy which changes things. Im also curious if well get answers on how long hes liked Miranda since he may have liked her in step 3 before she liked him 

Terry likes women and Randy likes men! And he did like Miranda back in Step 3.

Will the Wedding Dlc release at the same time as Step 4? 

They’ll come out separately with Step 4 releasing first.

I really love Our Life so much! I've spent over 20hours playing it even though I only got it a week ago! I was wondering if I could make a fangame for Our Life with a different love interest but same plot. Next-door neighbors romance, multiple steps, etc? I'll probably make it on Google Slides though- 

Sure! I hope you have fun with it and I’m glad you love the game.

How does Cove feel about poly relationships? 

He’s got nothing against them for the people they work for, but he’s 100% monogamous and would only be comfortable with a partner who was willing to be monogamous with him.

Idk if this has been answered before but will Step 4 include the option to advance your feelings towards Cove? 

Yep, you’ll be able to determine your feelings and what your relationship is.

In step 4 will there be a chosen to say we live with Cove even as just friends? 

Yeah, you can choose to live with Cove and that can be done when you’re friends.

I just played the game with the MC and Cove being best friends and omg it’s still so damn cute like the wholesomeness of it all is too much for my heart I swear ^.^  Now with that all said I was wondering can we still marry Cove? if we only love him as a friend like let’s say we’ve made deal with him similar to the one we can make with Derek because let’s real no one could compete with what the MC and Cove have even if they aren’t in love. 

It’s great to hear you enjoyed the friendship story! You can live with Cove, but you can’t marry him platonically. Cove has familial affection for the MC if they’re best-est friends. He wouldn’t think to marry someone he loves like family and even grew up with as though they truly were siblings.

Are you still going to be making a DLC for XOBD? :] 

Yes! We’re slowing adding voiced lines and fixing errors.

It makes me laugh that Shiloh's last name is Fields because that's what I put as my last name! So in Our Life when he talked about "Ms. Fields" picking him up I was extremely confused, lol. That dude mimics personalities so much that he stole my surname!

Oh, wow, that’s a very funny coincidence, haha.

hi !! i cant seem to be able to get the scene where mc is able to propose to cove despite being at the 'love' stage and telling him i'd want to get married, are there any other details that im missing out on? the options just dont appear at the end... 

Maybe you missed telling Cove you were in love with him even if you mentioned wanting to get married or you might’ve accidentally said earlier in the game that you don’t want to progress your relationship further with Cove. We haven’t removed them, so you can get the scene again. It’s just kind of easy to miss since there’s multiple requirements. You can read a little guide in the FAQ.

wait what di you need to do to be able to propose to cove? I've been trying but haven't had much luck 

You can check out the FAQ linked above!

does cove only develop a crush on the mc if the mc is also at crush/in love with him? 

Technically, yes. We treat the non-romantic relationship options as truly non-romantic since we don’t want to bait and switch people. But there’s nothing wrong with headcanoning that Cove does have feelings developing for the MC even before the MC has.

Is there a way to make/allow Lee and Baxter to date?

No, they just don’t have enough time together.

We also got a group of asks related to Tamarack in OL2, but I’m afraid the way they talked about people with larger bodies made me not want to post their words, even if the person didn’t say they’re trying to be hurtful. I will separate out the core question and answer it though, so people can know that info.

Does Tamarack lose weight in later Steps?

No, she doesn’t. As for the other questions included, to be honest, I don’t have to explain/defend having romance options of different sizes. I’m sorry if you’re dealing with unhappiness that’s connected to body image, if that’s where the negative emotions are coming from, but even so I can’t meet you on that level and pretend it’s a problem that needs an answer. A girl who simply isn’t thin being a main love interest is just not an unreasonable concept. Also, Tamarack isn’t a lesbian. Yes, she can date a female MC, but that doesn’t undo her actual sexuality, so I’m not sure where that one part at the end was coming from.

I wonder... can we "fight" with Qiu over leader status? 👀

Not really, haha. No matter how cool your MC is, they’re never gonna replace Qiu for the other kids around. So you can either partner up with him, follow him too, or not be a part of all that group politics stuff.

So when I play the game, sometimes I mentally call Cove “Covie/Covey” and that made me wonder, how does Cove feel about being nicknamed? Not like Romeo/Space Cadet/etc. but like pet names relating to his actual name

It’d depend on his age, personality, and your relationship with him! When he’s younger he’d probably be embarrassed, when he was grown he’d probably be more casual or happy about it.

will you be able to date baxter in step 3 while at crush with cove (but not dating him ofc) sorry if this has been asked already. i really love baxters step 4 design btw!! 

Yeah, you can be crushing on Cove and date Baxter if you weren’t already dating Cove. You just can’t be truly in love with Cove and then switch to Baxter.

I just got my friend into our life, and they adore shiloh and derek sooo will there be more of them in the second game? 

I’m afraid not. But you can see plenty more of Shiloh in XOXO Droplets/XOXO Blood Droplets, haha.

I see you haven't gotten any xoxo droplets asks recently but I'm still obsessed with these boys!! I was just wondering if Nate would curse under any circumstance? 

Yeah, Nate does use certain swear words (damn, hell, bastard) on very rare occasions.

Hi there! I have a question about the wedding dlc. Will we be able to plan a honeymoon during the planning stages of it or would it be something that Cove and the mc would rather plan later on? Thank you! Absolutly love the game by the way, definitely one of my favorite games! 

The focus will be on the wedding day itself. The topic of the honeymoon might come up a bit, but there won’t be any choosing of the exact location and such.

Hi! I have two questions and it's completely understandable if you only answer one/neither and I'm sorry if you've already answered either before! First, is there a set year in which OL:B&A takes place (ex: Step 1 being set in 2010 & Step 2 being set in 2016, etc.) or is it simply up to interpretation? Second, have you guys thought about doing a coming-of-age game where the MC has a tough home life or upbringing? (like one of their parents is an addict, a parent being transphobic whilst the player has the option to be trans, or having friends that are influencing them to do drugs, etc.) That's all! Thanks for making beautiful games. <3 

There is a set timeline!

Step 1: 2006 Step 2: 2011 Step 3: 2016 Step 4: 2021 

And we don’t currently plan on making a game like that. The Our Life series exists to be a safer environment for people to play around in and if we did do a brand new series that was harsher edged it’d be something more fantastical and/or plot-driven instead of a different type of modern day slice-of-life growing up story. I’m sorry.

i don’t know if you’ve already answered this, but do you have a guess on when phase 4 will come out? as well as ol2? i’m so excited for both of them, the inclusivity in this game is amazing, you guys should be really proud of it! 

Step 4 will be coming out very soon! OL2 is gonna take until 2023 to be anywhere near completion. But we might episodically release the Steps one at a time as they get done instead of waiting for three to be finished before launch like we did with the first game.

Hello, I was curious if there was an official or unofficial discord server for the game? 

We do have a discord! You can join by clicking this link HERE.

how long do you plan to keep ol's patreon running? 

Hopefully for at least a few more years.

Are you considering ever making merch? 

Yeah, but I don’t know when it’ll happen or what exactly we’ll make, aha. It’s something we want do, just nothing is set.

hi! i just found out about your game a couple of days ago on tiktok (so sorry if you’ve already answered this question) and i was wondering if y’all are ever planning to release it on iOS? 

I have no idea. It’s hard for a small group to get Apple approval and I honestly can’t say if it’ll ever happen or not. Maybe someday, though!

Hi, I love the art style of Our life and I would like to know if the artist has a Twitter? Also, could it be possible to fund more CGs for the game from him/her? So many times, I wish there was one like when the cutscene of the sunshower. 

That’s nice of you to offer. He doesn’t have a Twitter, at least not one that’s public enough to be shared with me. And I’m afraid not. The issue is that the CGs take huge amounts of time rather than there not being a budget for it. He’s gotta make CGs for Step 4, the DLCs, and new character sprites, too. There isn’t space in the schedule for even more. Sorry for that.

Hi, how are you?!

Are you planning on accepting new writers or is it always the same people who write your stories??

Thanks!!

Our Life: Beginnings & Always won’t be getting new writers, but we will be hiring a new team of writers for Our Life: Now & Forever eventually!

perhaps this counts as nsfw and I'm sure it has been answered before but what does Cove prefer, chests/boobs or butts? or perhaps both :3c thank you for this wonderful game (and the patreon bonus moment, it was worth all the waiting and more ♥) 

He’s a “chests of all shapes and sizes” kind of guy, haha.

i was wondering- did any of the writers actually grow up by the beach? as someone who's lived in a beach town all their life it really did feel nostalgic to play through our life 1 

I was born and raised in Cali! Though, not right by the beach. We still had to make trips out, but the setting is based on my own childhood memories of small beach towns we went through.

In Derek’s upcoming DLC, will we be able to reference the pact we made as teens? (love olba and xod/xobd so much btw you’re literally amazing) 

Yep, you will be able to talk about that!

Oh, sorry about the Cole being secretly L ask, then!

If you wanted context: Death Note is about this one guy who finds a notebook that kills anyone who you write the name of in there. The guy eventually develops a God Complex and starts mass killing criminals and stuff. L is the one trying to find out who is killing all these people.

Me and my sister first joked about it because I couldn't remember how to translate a word about the way Cove was sitting, so I just did the pose, and it looked a lot like how L himself sits! Then we just snowballed from there, with more and more nonsense connections.

That’s okay! Thanks for explaining. I’m sorry I didn’t know what you meant.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Fragrant Traces Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 香影之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ This date was released on 13 August 2021 ]

Outside the iron fence carved with decorative patterns, a surprise guest waves his top hat at me.

Booke: Good afternoon, Mrs Bai.

A few days ago, Gavin and I were introduced to this Westerner called Booke for the first time at a cafe, and we talked about forming a business partnership in the future.

However, his uninvited appearance today leaves me feeling surprised.

I clench my hands in secret, though I shoot Booke a natural and relaxed smile.

MC: What brings you here? Come in.

I turn around, calling out loudly into the Western-style mansion.

MC: Gavin, Mr Booke is here!

I guide Booke to the sofa. Lifting my eyes, a familiar figure stands next to the door of the living room.

Since he’s currently resting at home, Gavin is in a simple white shirt and overalls, looking refreshing, tall, and neat.

Gavin has a hand in his pocket, an imperceptible light flitting across his amber eyes.

Gavin: We meet again, Mr Booke. I’m very pleased to see you.

Wearing the smile of a wealthy and unbridled young master, he sits down nonchalantly.

Gavin: No need for formalities. Sit wherever you like.

While Gavin says this, he pats the back of my hand affectionately.

Gavin: It’s rare to have a visit from Mr Booke. Prepare some fruits.

MC: Sure. The two you can chat first.

Booke: I’m truly grateful.

I turn around and head into the kitchen. In the meantime, Mr Booke’s voice can occasionally be heard while they engage in small talk.

Booke: Mr Bai, I heard that you and your wife are newlyweds. Looks like the both of you have a great relationship...

Walking to a corner, I take in a breath while biting my lip. In the blink of an eye, the scene from half a month ago surfaces before my eyes...

-

[ FLASHBACK BEGINS ]

Superior in the Organisation: MC, there’s an important undercover mission for you.

As a member of the Organisation, my back is straight while I hold my breath, accepting my superior’s commands in the safe house.

Superior in the Organisation: We’ll be assigning a fake identity to you as a cover for our colleagues to transmit intel. Given that this is your first undercover mission, you will carry out this task with an extremely outstanding and experienced partner. In name, the two of you will be a newlywed couple, and a wealthy young master and young lady specialising in the double-sided embroidery trade with foreigners. Understood?

MC: Understood. 

Superior in the Organisation: Okay. In that case, meet your partner.

Right after these words are spoken, the door to the safe house suddenly clicks open. A tall figure strides in calmly.

Through the glass windows, the setting sun gently lands on the sides of the new arrival’s face. He lifts his head, revealing the amber eyes beneath strands of hair...

MC: ...Gavin?!

An unexpected answer silently tumbles in my heart, and I widen my eyes in astonishment.

During my schooling years, I got to know Gavin. However, social unrest from a few years ago caused us to lose contact. I never inquired into his whereabouts over the years.

I didn’t expect him to be a member of the Organisation, nor to become my partner...

The excitement of the reunion blends with a secret sense of worry. It’s as though thousands and thousands of words have surged into my heart. Yet, the sheer abruptness leaves me not knowing where to begin.

Gavin stands in front of me, and he appears much more mature and determined than in the past.

Gavin: MC, long time no see.

Lifting my head, I meet Gavin’s composed, thousand-yard gaze.

MC: ...long time no see. 

The superior doesn’t seem unfamiliar with Gavin, and he interrupts the pleasantries.

Superior in the Organisation: I heard that you’re old friends. I trust that there wouldn’t be a problem in rapport and coordination.

After this, he lowers his voice, quickly explaining the general situation of the mission.

Superior in the Organisation: The target this time is called Booke. He’s a Westerner, and is currently residing in Loveland City. On the surface, he appears to be a respectable businessman in Loveland City. However, he has intercepted a number of intel from my side, and has been selling them to our enemies in secret. In order to divert the intel, our colleagues have gone undercover. It isn’t difficult to get into Booke’s mansion, but we have to ensure that the absolutely safety of the mission, so we require a cover.

At an appropriate juncture, Gavin adds.

Gavin: Our mission is to keep Booke in another location while our colleagues slip into Booke’s mansion. This is to ensure that our colleagues have sufficient time to divert the intel. In the north, there’s a family with the surname Bai which specialises in doing first-class, double-sided embroidery. We’ll borrow this identity to get close to the target under the guise of doing business with him.

I listen with rapt attention, my heart involuntarily dyed with a tinge of urgency.

Gavin: Time is tight. I’ve received the tickets, and we’ll leave in two days. MC, get ready as soon as possible.

Gavin pauses slightly, a faint smile surfacing in his eyes.

Gavin: Here’s to a pleasant partnership, “Mrs Bai”.

[ FLASHBACK ENDS ]

After a summarised and quick essential training, Gavin and I very quickly come to Loveland City. In a little more than a week, with much publicity, we move into this Western-style mansion.

When we met Booke in a cafe for the first time a few days ago, our colleagues had already slipped into the mansion and located a portion of the intel. However, the remaining half is also important.

After a discussion with our colleagues, we decided to take action once more to perfect the mission and divert all the intel.

Since intel has gone missing, Booke would have definitely conducted investigations. His sudden appearance at the Western-style mansion is unlikely for the simple reason of paying a visit.

After composing my thoughts, I bring over a food tray filled with fruits, sitting down next to Gavin. Gavin turns his head to glance at me, taking my hand in a natural manner.

Booke’s line of sight flits past the both of us, his eyes crinkling as he smiles.

Booke: Have the both of you gotten used to living in Loveland City?

Gavin: We’re still getting used to it, but there aren’t any major problems.

Gavin reclines against the sofa, his tone composed and bringing with it the slight arrogance and wilfulness of a wealthy son.

Gavin: After all, we do business. It requires extensive travel.

Booke: As expected, Mr Bai is experienced and knowledgeable. If you're in need of anything, I’d be very willing to offer assistance.

Booke turns around, then places a large leather trunk he brought along with him on the coffee table.

Booke: Since the both of you were recently married and have moved into a new home, there’s a need for proper celebration. Here are gifts that I’ve meticulously selected.

Maybe it’s an illusion, but Booke’s tone seems to make it clear that he will not accept a refusal.

Gavin chuckles, then responds without hesitation.

Gavin: Since these are the kind regards of Mr Booke, we’ll accept them.

At this appropriate juncture, I display the bashfulness of a new bride. On the other hand, Gavin asks a question unhurriedly.

Gavin: Oh yes. Does Mr Booke have anything on three days later?

Booke turns to look at him.

Gavin: Since we’re newcomers, we intend to hold a banquet in this mansion three days later to establish smooth business relations in Loveland City in the future. To express our sincerity, the most famous first-class double-sided embroidery of the Bai Family will be displayed at the banquet. 

Hearing the words “double-sided embroidery”, Booke’s eyes light up.

Gavin: I wonder if Mr Booke will have the time to make an appearance?

This is the final action plan that we and our colleagues decided on.

Three days is sufficient for us to prepare a set of double-sided embroidery and a grand banquet, which will make the entire situation look foolproof.

When the time comes, we’d use the banquet to keep Booke away from his mansion, and our colleagues will seize this opportunity to slip in again.

I hold my breath while waiting, and Booke responds readily.

Booke: Of course! I’ll definitely be punctual for the first banquet hosted by Mr Bai in Loveland City.

-

At the entrance of the Western-style mansion, Gavin and I have our arms linked together while sending Brooke off. Watching his gradually vanishing figure, I release a soft sigh.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

At this moment, Gavin has already stored away the aura of a young dandy, and returns to his usual composure.

In the meantime, I quietly release my hold on his arm, the warmth on my palm dissipating along with the breeze.

Gavin: Your complexion doesn’t look too good.

My heart suddenly stirs.

After all, this is the first time I'm carrying out an undercover mission. Faced with the shrewd and sly Brooke, I can’t help but feel some palpitations and fatigue. 

However, I don’t want Gavin to get distracted because of me, and I try my best to curl the corners of my lips upwards.

MC: It’s probably because I didn’t sleep well yesterday.

Gavin makes no comment. He doesn’t probe further, and simply smoothens the wrinkles on my shoulder. 

Gavin: Don’t worry. Regardless of what happens, I’ll share it with you.

Under his fleeting gaze, a strong sense of ease suddenly enters the depths of my heart, driving away much of the nervousness and unease.

Just as I’m about to say something, the clock in the living room releases a crisp sound - it’s 3pm.

Each day, 3pm is the time when Gavin would head to the study room to send confidential telegraphs. I immediately smile while rushing him.

MC: Got it, don’t worry. Go and do your things. I’ll handle things down here.

Staring at Gavin’s retreating form, I cheer him on quietly while returning to the sofa in the living room.

Opening the leather trunk, I display the gifts on the coffee table in succession. Mr Brooke has generously given us around seven or eight items, including blue and white porcelain, gold vessels, and a Western clock.

Even though I didn’t find anything strange after giving each item a detailed check, my heart constantly senses that something isn’t right.

It’s only the second time that we’ve met. Yet, he has sent so many items, and his degree of enthusiasm leaves one suspicious. Coupled with tone from earlier...

To play it safe, I check the gifts meticulously one more time. 

Pressing the Western clock to my ear, I hold my breath and give it a listen. All of a sudden, I detect an abnormality -

The second hand of this Western clock seems to be slower by half a beat as compared to normal clocks.

Harbouring an attitude of not missing out on even the smallest detail, I quickly dismantle all the spare parts. To my astonishment, there’s a tapping device hidden in the innermost part of the clock.

My heart turns frigid. Sure enough, the sizeable number of gifts were meant to be a cover-up.

Looks like the intel which suddenly went missing a few days ago has caused him to become suspicious of us.

I quickly get up, wanting to inform Gavin, who is currently sending telegraphs in the study room. However, I pause warily once I stand up.

The Western-style mansion may not be absolutely safe. There may be other tapping devices...

After a moment of contemplation, I turn around and head into the kitchen calmly.

-

Carrying a piping cup of coffee, I knock on the door to Gavin’s study room.

The moment I push the door open, Gavin quickly lifts his head.

Clear sunlight streams into the room through the blinds, casting a gorgeous halo around him.

Since he’s currently working, Gavin is wearing a pair of golden-rimmed glasses. The dark metal telephone receiver is pressed against his neck.

As usual, he’s listening to commands through the telephone while sending out telegraphs at a rapid pace.

Likely due to the sheer abruptness of my appearance, a twinge of surprise is in Gavin’s eyes even before the focus in them completely slips away.

He know that I wouldn’t enter the study room during this time, unless something warrants an interruption.

Gavin: What is it?

He asks, without a change in his expression. Feigning nonchalance, I speak.

MC: I was afraid you’d be tired, so I specially brewed a cup of coffee for you. Here. Be careful, it’s hot.

Placing the coffee next to Gavin’s hand, I shoot him a wink.

Understanding this to some extent, Gavin keeps the telegraph machine. He picks up the coffee, a natural smile in his eyes.

Gavin: You’ve worked hard.

Seizing this chance, I pull on Gavin’s hand, quickly drawing the symbol of “tapping device” on his palm.

Gavin stands up, pointing at his ear and to his right. I immediately understand this.

We deliberately converse about things to hoodwink anyone potentially listening in, and quickly split up to search the study room.

Gavin uses one hand to set the cup of coffee down with a loud and clear sound. With the other, he quickly pulls a drawer open.

In the meantime, I’m on the floor, doing my best to stay quiet while sieving through all the books and publications, and the bottom of cabinets and tables.

Behind me, Gavin raises his volume, his tone bringing with it a tinge of satisfaction.

Gavin: The coffee has a very familiar taste. Are they beans from the north?

I continue searching, sharp-eyed and deft-handed. At the same time, I lift my head, responding in a somewhat pouting manner.

MC: Of course. I wouldn’t leave behind a single thing that you like. What about you? You agreed to take me to the teahouse. When will you have the time?

Gavin chuckles, responding indolently.

Gavin: ...are you angry? Don’t worry. I remember all my promises to you.

While we talk, I check half of the study room, and have yet to find anything out of the ordinary.

I twist my head, meeting Gavin’s eyes. The both of us shake our heads - the sense of alarm is gone, and the study room is completely safe.

Releasing a soft sigh of relief, I place the items back in their original places. Without turning my head, I speak. 

MC: Although the danger has been removed for now, it looks like Booke’s on high alert.

Gavin: We have to be even more careful three days later.

I nod in affirmation. Just as I'm about to straighten up...

MC: Oof!

Without realising it, Gavin has walked up behind me. Turning around suddenly causes me to bump straight into him.

My forehead presses against his chest, and the sudden proximity leaves my mind in a fluster. Just as I’m about to take a few steps back, I feel something odd at my waist.

Because of the accidental collision, an exquisite bracelet was caught on my clothes, and the other end is still stuck to Gavin’s pocket.

The bracelet which links us together further closes the distance between us.

I feel breaths on my ear. The warmth and scent belonging to him envelops me within.

My cheeks grow hot. The more I try to untangle it, the more flustered I feel. At this point, Gavin reaches out, his slender fingers brushing my waist nonchalantly.

Gavin: I’ll do it.

Very soon, the bracelet falls into Gavin’s palm. Looking at it curiously, I realise that there’s a small and delicate pendant on the bracelet, which appears to be...

MC: Is that a rouge box?

Gavin: Mm.

Faced with my slightly shocked gaze, an imperceptible emotion seems to flit past Gavin’s eyes. The words I hadn’t heard in a long time suddenly resound in my ears.

Gavin (in a flashback): You like rouge boxes? I’ll give one to you.

Reminiscent of a small pebble, they course through the depths of my memories gently, stirring up ripples that only I know about.

The corners of my lips curl upwards involuntarily.

MC: I remember how I couldn’t keep my eyes off all the various beautiful rouge boxes along every street. Back then, I don’t think there were any girls who didn’t like them.

Gavin: Do you still like them?

[Note] In Chinese, Gavin’s question leaves the subject of what MC likes ambiguous. This means his question could possibly be interpreted as “Do you still like rouge boxes?” or “Do you like me now?”

Gavin looks at me seriously, his gaze clear. It leaves me unable to distinguish if he’s referring to what I liked in the past or something else.

MC: O-of course I do...

Gavin: MC, the things you’re talking about - I remember them all. Since I promised to give it to you, I’d definitely do it.

Even though he says this very lightly, I suddenly feel the air in the surroundings rising for some reason.

In an attempt to dispel the heat, I quickly take two steps back, face flushed as I turn away.

MC: Could you give this to me as a “memento of our partnership” after we complete this mission successfully? I think it’d be more meaningful that way.

Gavin arches his brows and chuckles softly.

Gavin: Sure. I’ll listen to my “wife”.

-

Three days pass by quickly.

It’s the 6th day of the 7th month - the night of the banquet. Along with soft music drifting from the phonograph, guests gradually arrive.

In the large parlour paved with velvet, a rhinestone chandelier sparkles with a dazzling lustre, illuminating the guests.

Some guests are drinking and chatting merrily, while some are dancing gently to the melody.

Guest A: Mr Bai, I’ve heard about you for a long time. Sure enough, you’re dignified and impressive.

Guest B: Mrs Bai is also radiating with brilliance. The two of you are truly a match made in heaven!

Tonight, Gavin is wearing a well-ironed suit vest. A unique armband reflects a smooth arc beneath the light.

He raises and sways a glass of red wine leisurely. When he speaks, he brings with him the uninhibited and unconstrained aura of someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

Gavin: I’m just a newcomer. You flatter me. I wish to offer a toast to everyone with this glass.

Everything appears resplendent and peaceful. Gavin and I have our arms linked together, our generous smiles laden with a deep undercurrent.

With an affectionate smile on my face, I press myself close to Gavin’s ear. However, my tone is frantic.

MC: It’s been 20 minutes. Why isn’t Brooke here yet?

Gavin lowers his head, pretending to brush the pearl ornament on my hair.

Gavin: Don’t worry. Wait for a while longer. Booke has been inquiring about the double-sided embroidery for a very long time. He’ll definitely be here.

Right after he finishes speaking, a dull creaking sound can be heard from the entrance. The person we’ve been anticipating finally walks in - Booke is here.

Booke: Good evening, Mr and Mrs Bai. It’s the fault of my subordinate’s horrendous driving that I only managed to make it at this time. I haven’t missed out on anything interesting, have I?

Brooke walks over with his pot belly, several subordinates trailing behind him.

Gavin walks over to Booke with unhurried steps, a smile hooked onto his face.

Gavin: The banquet has just started. However...

Gavin pauses. With a wave of his hand, he calls over a wine server. He hands Booke a glass of red wine, allowing no explanation to be offered.

 Gavin: Latecomers are punished with three glasses of wine.

Booke narrows his eyes slightly. In the next second, however, he accepts the glass of wine and laughs in a clear, loud voice.

Booke: I’ve heard of the saying, “punished with three glasses of wine” a number of times since I came to this country. To express my sincerity, of course it isn’t a problem.

-

With three glasses of wine in his belly, Booke’s fingers subconsciously rub the cup when the wine server fills the fourth. He pauses.

Booke: Isn’t Mr Bai drinking too?

Gavin clinks his glass against Booke’s, and the both of them empty their glasses in one gulp.

Booke: The banquet appears to be going pretty well. The double-sided embroidery should be the finale, isn’t it?

Gavin sways the newly poured wine. The wine in the glass seems to tinge his face with crimson.

Gavin: Good things are naturally left to the end. I heard that Mr Brooke has a set of furniture which was imported recently. Why don’t we talk about that first?

While Gavin engages Brooke in a conversation, he subtly urges Brooke to drink glass after glass, and the decanter is gradually emptied.

I quickly take the decanter from the wine server.

MC: There’s a bottle of red wine which was just shipped from Europe. I’ll let Mr Brooke try it. Give me a moment.

Gavin: Sure.

Gavin turns his head, seeming to respond casually.

However, in the moment our eyes meet, the light in his eyes dim, and we converse without words: It’s time to take the next step.

-

Brisk walking to the empty kitchen, I fill the decanter with red wine, then carefully pour a packet of knockout drugs into it.

The powder melts into the wine in mere seconds, akin to how we’re in a race against time to carry out this plan.

The moment Brooke left his mansion, our colleagues slipped in.

In order to keep him in our Western-style mansion, the so-called “double-sided embroidery worthy of a finale” is merely a ruse. What we’ve prepared is simply a set of second-rate goods which have turned mouldy.

If our colleagues manage to obtain the intel quickly, they would send us a secret signal. When the time comes, we just have to find an excuse to stall Brooke, such as improper storage such that we’re unable to perform the transaction.

But if our colleagues fail to send us a signal even after a long time, we’d proceed to the next step - the knockout drugs will be used.

-

Returning to the main hall, I see that Gavin is currently chatting merrily with Brooke.

He gives me a signal with his gaze, and I grin while handing a cup of drugged red wine to Brooke.

Shortly after, as he downs cups of red wine, Booke gradually gets into an inebriated and drowsy state. I quickly call Booke’s subordinates over.

MC: Mr Booke is probably drunk. There is a guest room at the end of the long hallway. I’ll bring all of you there to get some rest.

After positioning Booke and his subordinates, I leave the hallway in large strides. Gavin is currently waiting for me at the end of the hallway.

Gavin: Our colleagues have sent an interim signal. 

He leans close to my ear and speaks softly.

Gavin: I’ll take a look. Stay here. If anything happens, remember to protect yourself, and act accordingly.

I nod, and Gavin heads off immediately.

I’m standing in the junction between the hallway and the main hall. Although I appear to be observing the dancing crowd, I’m actually entirely focused on waiting for the signal that the diversion of intel has been successful. 

The minutes and seconds tick by. While I’m feeling frantic with my brows furrowed slightly, heavy and muddled footsteps suddenly resound from behind me in the hallway.

Brooke, who should be in a heavy sleep, is walking towards me with steady steps. His eyes are clear, and he doesn’t appear to have been knocked out at all!

My fingers tremble, and I can feel my heart in my throat. However, I immediately pretend to appear glad.

MC: Have you sobered up? Would you like me to brew sobering tea?

Brooke: No need.

Brooke speaks gloomily.

Brooke: Why is Mrs Bai alone in the main hall? Where’s Mr Bai?

Following his words, I scan the surroundings.

MC: I’ve been greeting the guests and didn’t take notice. He might have gone to the washroom.

When Brooke sees the Western clock not too far off, his eyes narrow.

Brooke: It’s getting late. I’ve been waiting far too long for the double-sided embroidery. Will I get to see it today?

Sensing the inquisitiveness in his tone, my heart leaps heavily.

MC: Just wait for a while longer. We’re planning to display it at 12am. It’d be the Qixi Festival then, making it even more auspicious. 

Brooke releases an icy hum.

Brooke: This might sound strange, but a couple of “rats” suddenly appeared in my house a few days ago. Earlier, those “rats” wanted to steal my things again, but my men managed to catch them!

What?!

My eyes widen slightly. Composing my emotions, I caution myself that this might very well be a bluff crafted by Brooke. 

MC: That’s wonderful! Rats are pretty rampant during this season, so it’s a good thing they were caught. It’d be troublesome if they were to bite and damage your goods.

Booke: Mrs Bai, you’re very humourous. 

He purses his lips in disdain, giving me a sharp stare, as though wanting to uncover something from my expression.

Booke: Let’s not waste more time. Those “rats” are waiting for me to deal with them when I return. Mrs Bai, you might as well bring me to see the double-sided embroidery right now!

With a fierce wave of his hand, a few tall subordinates immediately gather. Clearly, he has started to double our true reason for hosting this banquet.

Pretending to be shocked and maligned, I widen my eyes in disbelief.

MC: What are you doing... Although we’ve already decided to do business with you, there are many distinguished guests here today. The double-sided embroidery has to be displayed in front of everyone. Otherwise, how could we conduct business with them in the future!

Seeing that Booke is about to lose his patience, I step forward and pull on his hand, turning my head to the side and shooting him a grin.

MC: There’s still half an hour. Why don’t I invite you to dance?

Brooke is stunned for a moment, likely not expecting me to react in this manner. Seizing this chance, I successfully pull him onto the dance floor. 

-

As midnight approaches, the atmosphere in the main hall is reaching the peak of liveliness. Everyone is gathered together and doing various forms of social dances. Seeing that I’ve joined them, a number of guests come over.

On their accounts, Booke doesn’t take action despite the doubt on his face.

After a moment, along with the rousing melody, everyone collectively turns in a circle and swaps partners. Taking advantage of this, I put distance between myself and Brooke.

Just as I plan to find an opportune moment to leave the dance floor and inform Gavin about the situation, a familiar scent suddenly envelops me from behind.

Gavin: You’ve waited long, my wife.

A strong arm stops me from behind. Gavin retracts his arm, causing me to lean my face against his shoulder.

I can distinctly feel warmth emanating from Gavin’s chest on my back. The pit of my stomach relaxes instantly. 

The fragrance of red wine continues to permeate the air. Western-style music plays mellifluously.

Moving along to the rhythm of the melody and after a couple of spins, Gavin brings me to a quiet and concealed corner.

Gavin: Don’t worry. The intel has been successfully transferred.

I heave a huge sigh of relief. But the moment I think about the current situation, I immediately turn my head towards Gavin.

MC: Booke has already discovered the gathering of intel and has grown suspicious. He’s now a ticking time bomb. To be safe, should we deal with him here?

While saying this, I draw a gun from underneath my cheongsam.

In the next second, Gavin’s hand slides to my waist. He presses down on the gun in my hand, and continues to hold me as we slow dance to the music.

Gavin: I know. But nothing can happen to him while everyone’s watching.

MC: But...

As we sway gently and slowly, Gavin leans in close to my ear, strands of hair brushing my cheek gently. Although his voice is soft, it’s very clear.

Gavin: Our colleagues who slipped into Booke’s mansion discovered important leads. The Organisation has decided to bring him back for a confidential interrogation. Right now, they should have already slipped into the crowd.

MC: So the reason why you left earlier...?

Gavin: Mm. Everyone has been deployed.

MC: What do we do now?

While dancing, the crowd gathers near the entrance. The rhinestone chandelier hanging several metres above them glistens with light.

The corners of Gavin’s lips hook upwards confidently. Light falls into his eyes, reflecting a vigour even brighter than the colour of amber.

Gavin: Very simple - create disorder. Like this.

Gavin takes the gun from my hand. Accompanying the high-spirited music, he unfolds his arm. Following the movements of the dance, he naturally and quickly twirls me around and pulls me to him.

Using the curtain at this corner as a cover, Gavin lifts the gun. In a swift movement, he fires at the rhinestone chandelier!

“CRASH!”

A loud shattering sound can be heard. In an instant, the main hall descends into shock and darkness. Even though nobody is hurt, everyone frantically surge towards the entrance.

Booke is clearly taken by surprise too, and is protected by his subordinates as they run to the entrance.

Sharp-eyed and deft-handed, Gavin rushes over to Brooke, pulling on his arm and speaking softly.

Gavin: This place isn’t safe. Let’s leave.

Booke follows along for a few steps. However, when the crowd in the surroundings turn sparse, he halts in doubt, attempting to break free from Gavin’s grasp.

Without waiting for him to make a further move, Gavin has already clamped down on him, then engages in a bare fist fight with his subordinates!

Although the other parties are swift and violent, Gavin is faster, and he nimbly evades them before swinging his leg, causing the subordinates to fall to the ground one by one.

In one smooth sweep, Booke is brought under control.

Our reinforcements arrive on time. Pretending to be here to provide support, they take advantage of the chaos and carry Booke away.

-

When Gavin and I are the only ones left in the Western-style mansion, I release a huge sigh of relief.

MC: The mission is finally over...

Gavin lifts his head to smoothen my scattered hair.

Gavin: Mm, it’s over. You did really well in this mission. 

I smile lightly.

MC: After all, this was my first time doing undercover work. I’ve actually been cheering myself on every day. Fortunately, we managed to get through this daunting experience without any mishaps.

Gavin lowers his head, meeting my gaze.

Gavin: Remaining this calm during your first undercover mission - as expected, I didn’t pick the wrong partner.

MC: ...?!

These sudden yet unexpected words render me unable to respond even after a few seconds. My heart thumps rapidly.

Crystal clear moonlight pours through the colourful glass window at the side, casting a colourful shadow on Gavin’s face.

Beneath the enchanting light, Gavin’s eyes seem to grow deep and serene.

Gavin: I’ve been looking for you these few years. But the social unrest made it difficult to find you. It was only until I happened to see the name list of this operation that I knew you were in the organisation too, so...

Every word from Gavin drums against my heart.

Whether it’s because of this enchanting moment or the darkness, I’m suddenly filled with courage and blurt out the question in my heart.

MC: Why?

Why did you keep looking for me? And why did you pick me to be your partner?

Despite the abruptness and briefness of my question, Gavin understands what I meant.

Gavin: What do you think?

Reflecting the tender moonlight, Gavin speaks in a slower tone, and faint anticipation starts to rise in my heart.

Gavin: Come to think of it, do you still remember the rouge box bracelet from that day?

Amid the mottled light, Gavin retrieves the bracelet from his pocket. The metal pendant emits a beautiful light beneath the moonlight. 

Gavin: Now, the mission has been resolved successfully. It’s time for this bracelet to be given to its owner.

At this moment, the Western clock suddenly chimes, interrupting Gavin’s words. The clock strikes exactly at midnight.

Light stirs in his amber eyes. When he sees my high spirits, Gavin chuckles.

He lifts my wrist, the warmth of his finger pads brushing my skin as he carefully puts on the bracelet for me.

Holding my hand, Gavin looks up, his eyes reflecting a composed smile within.

Gavin: I’ve put it on for you. 

In the tranquility of midnight, the phonograph plays a romantic tune.

Gavin pauses for a moment, then leans in close.

My heart thumps, and it feels as though it’s about to leap out. My eyes are wide open, absorbed in that pair of eyes which reflect the moonlight. 

Gavin: Although it came a little late, it isn’t too late. Happy Qixi Festival.

👓 Calls and Moments: here

👓 Translated comics based on this date:

✧ by norelle-n

✧ by 喵哦哦哦哦哦

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[writemywaytoyourheart]

Aim For The Heart | Chapter 5: Crimson Pages

Pairing: hitman!jungkook x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, angst, drama

WC: 6k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, mentions of murder, blood, alcohol consumption, kook is an ass, tae is hot af, I think that’s it let me know if I need to add anything else

Tag list: @moonchild1 @hopekookies @barbellastyles98 @teresaisla @ggukkieland @mwitsmejk @scuzmunkie @jaebeomsblackgf @sugaslittlekookies @moon-asia @armyhollander @yoonchrisgullwrites @njkbangtan @higashikatasgf

summary; Jeon Jungkook is an infamous hitman, known for his inability to fail at whatever job is thrown his way. At least, up until now. Y/n, a kind-hearted and full of life teacher, is his newest target. Jeon isn’t sure who would put a hit on this seemingly innocent girl, but fortunately, that isn’t his problem. All he has to do is pull the trigger.

Previous → Next

The sound of pans clanging around in the kitchen brings Jungkook out of the deep slumber he was in. It was the first time in more than a week that he actually got a decent amount of sleep. 

Jungkook groans and rubs his eyes tiredly. 

When he is finally able to orient himself and remember where he is, he squints in the direction of the kitchen to see a shirtless Taehyung digging around in his pantry. 

"The hell are you doing?" Jungkook slurs.

Taehyung turns around when he hears the younger's voice, "Oh, morning Kook."

Then he turns and continues to rummage around noisily. Jungkook sighs and drops his head back down onto his pillow. He flings one of his arms over his eyes to block the sunlight streaming in and reminding him of the precious sleep he just lost. 

After a minute, Taehyung walks over and slaps Jungkook on the stomach.

Jungkook flinches, then groans in annoyance, "What the hell?" He snaps at Tae.

The older boy just smirks down at him, "Do you even eat? There's literally nothing to eat here but ramen and a few mushy apples."

Jungkook rubs his eyes, "What?" 

"Food. Sustenance. You have none." Tae speaks up louder making Jungkook flinch again. 

"If you're gonna complain then get the fuck out," Jungkook mumbles sleepily, turning away from his idiotic friend and closing his eyes again. 

Taehyung rolls his eyes, then slaps Jungkook's ass, hard.

The sleepy boy jerks up and turns to grab at Taehyung angrily, "Leave me alone, asshole!  Go find your own food!" He shouts, slapping at Tae's chest. 

"Come with me."

"No."

"Please."

"Fuck off." Jungkook snarls then lies down again. 

Tae sighs and sits on the edge of Jungkook's bed, "Grumpy butt." He mutters. 

Jungkook turns his head to peek at Tae, then he sighs, "Fine. Get dressed."

"Yippee!" Tae gets up and runs over to where his bag is, pulling out his clothes as fast as he can. Jungkook sighs tiredly and forces himself to get up and dress too. _

"So, when are you supposed to be finished?" Tae asks around a mouthful of food. He and Jungkook are in a small cafe, eating the breakfast that he so graciously offered to pay for. 

Jungkook finishes chewing and swallows before answering him, "They wanted it done within a month."

"A month? That's a big window. Most hits are a few days to a week." Tae muses as he takes another bite of his pancakes. 

"I know," Jungkook mutters, confused himself. They had assured him that a month was expected, even when he told them, again and again, he could get it done within a week at the most. 

Turns out he was wrong. 

There must be something they know that he doesn't.

Jungkook still can't shake the feeling that the target is playing with him somehow. She must be putting on an act to catch him off guard when he least expects it. 

"Sooo," Tae drawls, "Are you going to take a month to get it done?"

Jungkook sends him a glare, "Of course not, why would I waste time on one target?"

Tae shrugs, looking at Jungkook closely as he takes another bite of his food. 

"How long has it been?"

"That's none of your business-"

"Why are you being so secretive all of the sudden?" Tae snaps, making Jungkook glance around to see if anyone is listening to their conversation. 

There are only two other tables with people at the moment and none of them seem interested in anything going on around them outside of their little bubbles. 

Good. 

He turns back to his older friend and whispers fiercely, "Stop being so loud for fuck's sake. Are you trying to let the entire restaurant know what we're talking about?"

Tae just sneers at him before continuing to devour his breakfast, "I bet you a thousand bucks I'll be done with my hit before you're done with yours."

"Fuck off."

"No, I'm serious," Taehyung swallows the chewed-up pancake in his mouth, "I bet you one thousand that I'll be done first."

"No." Jungkook takes another bite, trying to ignore the young man sitting on the other side of the table. 

"What? You scared you'll lose?" Taehyung taunts with a smirk on his face, "Why should someone as good at what he does as you be afraid of a tiny school teacher?"

Jungkook glances up at Taehyung, his eyes burning with anger, "Fine, you know what? I'll take your bet."

Tae drops his fork onto his plate and reaches across the table. When Jungkook takes his hand, he shakes it once, "Deal," Tae says triumphantly. 

Jungkook just shakes his head and goes back to eating. He rolls his eyes when Tae speaks up again, "So, what's your plan?"

"You think I'd tell you?" Jungkook scoffs. 

Taehyung shrugs, stuffing his mouth again. ______________

"Miss ___?"

You look up from the worksheets you were going through at your desk. The kids have been working quietly at their seats with whatever they wanted to do at this time. 

A tiny girl named Minju is looking at you with big brown eyes, her long black hair is in two ponytails, one on each side of her head. You smile at her and set your pen down. 

"How c-can I help you, M-Minju?"

She hands you a picture that she drew, "This is for you." 

You look at it and see a few stick-figure kids smiling and holding hands in a line, at the end of the line is you, smiling and holding onto Minju's hand. You're even wearing your favorite white skirt and peach blouse, along with your chunky tennis shoes. 

A few tears spring to your eyes and you look back at the small girl, "It's b-beautiful Minju. This m-must have taken you s-so long to do!"

She shakes her head and smiles shyly, "It only took me maybe a little bit of time?"

You laugh and hold the picture to your chest, "I l-love it. Thank y-you so much."

She nods again, then she leans in closer to whisper softly, "You know we love you, right Miss ___?" 

You try your best to hold in your tears as you nod, "I love you little d-ducklings too."

"Oh yes, we know!" She whispers enthusiastically before turning and hurrying back to her seat. You smile at her as she sits down and gets to work on another picture. 

You place the picture as carefully as you can into your bag, wanting to frame it when you get home later. You're sure you have a frame somewhere that will fit it. 

The rest of the school day goes by smoothly, nothing much happening besides the kids getting a lot of their school work done. You always give them time to do their homework on Fridays so they don't have to worry about it over the weekend. 

You haven't seen Jungkook for a few days now, ever since you two hung out that day earlier this week. You were starting to wonder if there was something about you that he found annoying, then you reminded yourself of Mina's words to you a few years ago. 

"If someone doesn't like you for who you are, please don't waste your precious time on them, ___. You're worth more than that."

It isn't your problem if someone doesn't like you, you're just going to keep on doing what you do best. And that's being a friend to anyone who wants it.

With that in mind, you pack up your stuff after seeing the kids off and wishing them a good weekend. 

You look up when someone suddenly opens your classroom door, not even bothering to knock. 

When Mr. Baek walks in, you feel your stomach drop. 

"How c-can I help you?" You ask politely. 

He chuckles darkly and you feel a shiver go down your spine when he walks over and sits on the edge of your desk, pushing his glasses up his long nose. 

"Next week is the last week of school," He says casually. 

You nod, "Y-Yes, it is."

He looks at you pointedly, "Are you coming back next year?" 

You swallow thickly, "U-Um, I th-think so."

His demeanor changes suddenly and he glares at you before standing up, knocking some of the papers off your desk as he does. 

Then he leaves without another word, practically slamming the door shut behind him. 

You stare at the door in confusion, wondering what he has always had against you. He hasn't been very pleasant to you ever since you started working here back in August of last year.

You shake it off and finish packing your things. 

When you're all packed up, you peek outside of your door, checking both ways down the halls to see if he's lingering around anywhere. When you don't see him, you slip out of your classroom and hurry down the hall towards the front.

You peek your head out the front too, glancing both ways before coming out and cautiously walking down the front steps. 

Fixing your bag on your shoulder, you hurry down the sidewalk, just wanting to go home and not stop anywhere today. 

"Hey, wait up."

You jump out of your skin at the sound of a voice right behind you. Then you turn and see Jungkook walking closer to you, a look in his eyes that you can't decipher. 

"Heading home?" He asks casually. 

You nod, a smile slowly spreading on your face at the sight of someone who you think might be your friend after all. 

Jungkook smiles at you, but you notice something flash in his eyes before he smothers it and comes closer, "Can I walk you home?" He asks.

You look at him closely, trying to figure him out. When you can't, you nod once again, "Yes, tha-that would be ni-nice. Thank y-you."

Jungkook walks next to you as you continue on your way home. You try your best to think of something to say, but you aren't sure what to ask to make the awkward tension between you two break. 

You glance over at Jungkook and see him watching his feet as he walks. That brings a smile to your face again. 

You look down at your feet and notice how much bigger Jungkook's feet are than yours. Even with your tennis shoes, his feet look huge. 

A tiny giggle escapes your lips and Jungkook lifts his head to look at you.

"What's so funny?" He asks in confusion.

"Oh, n-nothing." You assure him before biting your lip and looking down at your feet again. Jungkook squints at you suspiciously but lets it go. 

When he looks back down he notices that your walking pace has matched with his. 

He looks to the side at you and feels a tiny pinch in his chest when he notices how concentrated you are on trying to make sure your pace matches his. Jungkook forces himself to look away, not liking the feeling that's coming over him all of the sudden. 

Remember why you started this, Jungko-

"Where h-have you been, J-Jungkook?"

He starts at the sudden sound of your voice, then when he regains his composure he laughs sheepishly, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. 

"I've been busy with work." 

"Oh."

"And an old friend of mine came to town." He explains further, not sure why he feels the need to. 

"Ah, r-really?" You ask enthusiastically, clearly excited for him, "That m-must be so n-nice."

"Meh, he can be a pain." Jungkook chuckles and you smile at that, then you frown. 

"If your f-friend is visiting, you ought t-to be h-home with him."

"Nah, he's fine," Jungkook reassures you quickly, "He's probably just eating my food and watching TV." 

You laugh at that, a bright sound that makes Jungkook genuinely smile for the first time since meeting you. You can see the smile in his eyes. 

Then it's like it vanishes into thin air as he clears his throat.

"Anyway," He mutters, "Want to hang out this weekend?"

You look at your fingers that you are fiddling with, it's a habit you've had for years. Then you nod, "S-Sure, we c-can invite your friend-"

"No, it's fine," Jungkook cuts off your suggestion. For some reason, he doesn't want you to meet Taehyung. 

Or maybe he doesn't want Taehyung to meet you.

Either way, he doesn't like it. 

"I mean," He continues when he sees the look of confusion on your face, "He has something with work this weekend. He's on a business trip right now. So, he doesn't have a ton of time to hang out." Jungkook explains in a rush.

Now he's just rambling.  

He clears his throat and nods, shutting up. 

"Oh, ok." You say simply. 

Jungkook breathes a sigh of relief when you don't push it any further. 

You make it back to your house a little while later, Jungkook walking you up the stairs and right to your door. 

"Thank you, f-for walking me h-home." You say sweetly, smiling at him. Jungkook just nods, then after a moment of silence he speaks up, "So, what time did you want to hang out tomorrow?"

"Um, maybe w-we can meet for l-lunch?" You suggest. 

Jungkook agrees quickly, "Alright, then I'll meet you downstairs at noon." Then he turns and hurries away, just like he always does. 

You laugh at his behavior, wondering why he always seems to be in some kind of rush. Then you go inside, setting your things down before heading to your closet to find that frame you know you have that will fit the picture from Minju perfectly.

-

"Where were you?" 

Jungkook rolls his eyes at the words Tae speaks right as he comes into his apartment, "Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I was bored all day long." Taehyung pouts.

Jungkook makes a face at him, "Entertain yourself then, idiot. I wasn't even gone for longer than an hour."

Tae watches Jungkook as he pulls his shoes off, "Were you working?" He asks with a lilt to his voice. 

"If you must know, I needed to take a walk alone, without you talking my fucking ear off." Jungkook snaps. 

Taehyung's eyebrows raise to his hairline, "Fuck, someone's grouchy. You on your period, Jeon?"

Jungkook looks up at Tae, dropping his shoes on the ground, an unamused expression painting his features. 

He sees Tae's mouth twitching as he fights the urge to laugh. That just pisses Jungkook off even more. He bends to grab his shoes to put them back on, but Tae jumps up from the couch and hurries over to knock the shoes out of his hand. 

"I was kidding, JK. Jeez."

"Why are you even here?" Jungkook asks in exasperation, "Aren't you supposed to be getting a hit done or something?"

"Don't pretend you don't like having me here," Tae smirks and punches Jungkook lightly on the arm. 

"I don't."

Tae frowns, "You used to be a lot more fun."

"Well, I'm not anymore, so leave me alone." Jungkook brushes past Taehyung to get to the kitchen. But he gets stopped once more when Tae grabs his arm. 

He looks at Tae in annoyance, "What is it?"

"I should be asking you that. The last time I saw you was a year ago and you were my same old Kook. What happened-"

"I grew up, okay?" Jungkook yanks his arm back and continues his trek to the kitchen to scrounge through the fridge. 

"Growing up doesn't equal being an asshole to your best friend," Tae mutters before moving to the couch and plopping down onto it, now in just as much of a funk as Jungkook is.

The younger boy pulls a bottle of soju out of the fridge and glances at his friend sitting on the couch, his brows furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. 

Jungkook purses his mouth before moving over to the couch and holding the bottle out to Tae. 

The older boy looks away in a huff. 

Jungkook sighs, "Look, Tae. I'm sorry, okay?"

Taehyung glances at him, "Sorry for what?"

Jungkook fights the urge to roll his eyes, "For being an asshole." 

Taehyung snatches the bottle and opens it with ease, taking a quick sip before grinning at Jungkook, "Ok. I forgive you, you little shit."

Jungkook's nose twitches in irritation but he doesn't say another word. 

"Well, I'm hungry," Tae says simply, taking another swig. 

"Me too." Jungkook sighs, sitting on the couch. 

"We need to go grocery shopping." Tae looks pointedly at his young friend. 

They sit there in silence for a minute before Jungkook heaves a huge sigh, "We can go on Sunday."

"Why not today?" 

"Because they have a lot more deals on Sunday," Jungkook says, making Tae choke on his next drink. 

"The fuck, Jeon? What are you, an old woman?" He wipes his lips, smiling at the glare Jungkook gives him. 

"No, I just prefer not to spend a fortune on things like food."

Tae shakes his head in disbelief, "Who the fuck are you these days?"

Jungkook just stands up to head to the bathroom, "I'm taking a shower. There's some ramen in the pantry." 

"I'm sick of ramen," Tae moans. 

"Good." ______________

You swipe the lip gloss over your lips gently, not wanting too much. 

You never really wear make-up but you decided you wanted to try it out today and ask Jungkook how it looks. Mina is usually the one to tell you all the things you can do to improve it or tell you how good it looks. Since your best friend won't be back for another three weeks, you suppose Jungkook will have to do. 

You look at the simple look you did, with just a little coverage, some mascara, gloss, and a tiny bit of blush. You think it looks okay, it's definitely a subtle difference. 

Then you hurry to your closet to get out your favorite white skirt. You decide to wear your peach blouse today as well since it always lifts your mood and you could definitely use a mood-lifter. 

When you're finished pulling your clothes on, you look at your phone and notice that it's a little after noon. 

"Oh!" You run out to grab your purse, tripping a little on your own feet before you get on the ground and pull your shoes on. 

By the time you're running down your steps, Jungkook is wondering if you've forgotten your plans as he stands downstairs and looks at the time on his phone. 

Then he looks up to see you bounding down the steps, your hair flying around and your skirt hiked up as you hold it so you don't trip. 

His eyebrows shoot up as you stumble in front of him. 

"So-Sorry I'm late." You huff out as you struggle to get your hair out of your lip gloss where it decided to stick. 

Jungkook shakes his head, "You're not late. I just got here." He isn't sure why he lies to make you feel better, but he does. 

Then he notices that you're wearing make-up. It's not a lot, a very light look. But, it doesn't look that bad-

He shakes his head again to clear it. 

No. No, no, no. 

Jungkook clears his throat as you watch him curiously, "Y-You okay, Jungkook?" 

He nods, "Fine. Let's go."

Then he turns and starts to walk briskly.

You hurry to catch up with him. 

-

"You p-pick the food thi-this time." You say with a smile when he asks you what you want for lunch. 

Jungkook looks around, then he points to a little restaurant, "How about that place?"

Well, that was easy. 

You nod, "Sure! I've n-never been there."

"Me neither," Jungkook admits as you two make your way there. 

You laugh at that and Jungkook finds himself fighting a smile. 

Stop it. 

Stupid. 

Jungkook opens the door and walks in, once again leaving you to grab the door before it hits you. You brush it off and follow him in. 

"Table for two?"

You see a girl in a black and white dress holding two menus and smiling at the two of you. Jungkook nods uncertainly and you two follow her to a table in the middle of the room.  

After you sit, you look around and see a few couples eating at different tables around the restaurant. You look at Jungkook to see he's already looking through the menu. 

"This place is fancier than it looked from the outside," Jungkook says with a frown as he looks over the options. He hadn't meant to take you to a nice place. 

You grab your menu and open it up, almost gasping at the prices. 

Then you look at Jungkook again. He glances up to see your huge eyes peeking at him from over your menu. 

"L-let's get out of h-here." You whisper suddenly. 

"What?" He whispers back. 

You glance behind you to see the waitress coming over with some water for you both. She sets it down and smiles graciously. 

"Would you like to order some other drinks?" She asks politely. 

You look at Jungkook in a panic. 

He gulps and looks back at the waitress cluelessly. You realize he is just out of his element as you are, so you speak up. 

"C-Could we have another m-minute p-please?" 

Her whole face changes when she hears your voice. Her eyebrow twitches and she bites back a laugh as she bows and moves away. 

You have no idea why she did that so you just brush it off, but Jungkook has a feeling it had to do with your stutter. He looks at you as you glance around the fancy room cluelessly, that same feeling coming over him that he got the other day. He pushes it down again. 

Then he jumps a little when you take his menu away from his face and whisper, "C-Come on, let-let's escape while she isn't l-looking." 

Jungkook stares at you like you're crazy when you watch her walk away into the kitchen before jumping out of your chair. 

"We haven't even b-bought anything yet. Co-Come on!" Then you reach over and grab his hand, dragging a very confused Jungkook out of his chair and practically running out of the restaurant. 

You're giggling like a little school girl as you run down the sidewalk, still holding onto Jungkook's hand tightly. He doesn't fight it, just follows you until you run into a small dress shop. 

When you finally let go of his hand, you turn and the smile on your face is bright as you reach a hand up to cover your mouth. You can't seem to stop laughing at the situation. 

Jungkook is frozen in his place, still trying to figure out what just happened. 

"W-We should find somewhere else to eat f-food." You say, still giggling a little.

Finally, Jungkook seems to come out of his shock and nods, "Uh, yeah...where should we go?"

You shrug, "It's s-still your tu-turn to pick." 

Jungkook can't help staring as you blink a few times, looking around the shop, then your head cocks to the side for a second. 

It's almost like you can't control it. 

Then you look back at him and notice him staring at you, making your already pink cheeks turn even pinker. 

"Uh, y-you okay Jungkook?" 

You snap in front of his face and he blinks back into reality, "Oh. Oh yeah, sorry." He rubs the back of his neck, feeling awkward that you caught him staring at you. 

You just send him a bright smile and shake your head, blinking hard a few times, "It's okay, I-I b-blank out sometimes t-too." 

Jungkook takes a deep breath and looks out the window, watching people walking by on the sidewalk. 

"Let's just find some food. I'm starving." He mumbles, then he hurries out of the shop, you hot on his heels. 

You two find a small cafe that isn't nearly as fancy as the other place and go inside. 

Jungkook leads you to a table for two and you take a seat. There are already menus on the table and you reach for one. 

Jungkook reaches at the same time and your hand brushes his. He pulls back like you burned him and you look at him apologetically, "S-Sorry."

He just swallows and gestures for you to take one, so you do. 

"Ohh, this looks m-much better." You say happily when you glance over the menu. 

Jungkook mumbles an agreement, relieved you two aren't at the other place anymore. As much as he hates to admit it to himself, he's glad you got both of you out of that. 

You end up ordering a few different dishes that you agree to share so you can try more things. There isn't much talk until the food comes, then you're both too busy stuffing your faces to speak. 

When you've had your fill, you sit back and sigh, rubbing your tummy with your hand. "Ohh, I'm so f-full," You moan, "Lo-Look, I've got a food b-baby!" You exclaim, laughing. 

Jungkook snickers for a second before smothering it and continuing to eat the rest of the food that you can't stomach. 

You frown, wondering why he won't just let himself laugh. Then you decide right then and there that you'll get him to laugh someday, whatever it takes. 

Jungkook ends up asking for a box for the leftovers because apparently, he isn't a bottomless pit like you initially thought. He explains when he sees the confused look on your face, "I was going to bring some back for my friend if that's alright?"

"Oh! Of c-course." You say with a smile. Jungkook wonders again how you can smile so much all the time and not have sore cheeks. 

You and Jungkook bicker for a moment over who pays the bill, then you end up deciding to split it up. Jungkook pays for more than half of it, insisting that he ate more anyway. When the bill is paid and the rest of the food is packed up, you two head out. 

Jungkook looks up at the clouds for a minute before speaking, "So, what should we do now?"

You're quiet for a minute, then you hold up a hand, "I h-have an idea!" 

Jungkook nods, "What is it?"

"F-Follow me." Then you scurry away. 

-

Jungkook looks at you in confusion. 

You had him sit down on a big rock in the nearby park as you dug through your bag. Now, you're finally pulling out a sketch pad and some pencils. 

"Want t-to draw?" You ask happily. 

Jungkook feels a pinch in his chest at the sight of blank paper and colored pencils. He hasn't picked up a colored pencil since he was fifteen years old. 

Since right before this all started...

He snaps out of it when you gently place a blank piece of paper on his lap. Then you pick out all the colors of the rainbow and reach out to grab his hand. You open his hand and place the pencils in his waiting palm. 

Jungkook feels his palms get sweaty when he closes his fingers around the pencils.

"Th-There you go. Now, d-draw whatever you'd l-like." You say, the teacher in you coming out. 

You see a small smile on his face before he again hides it and adjusts himself on the rock. He hands the pencils back to you, pushing them into your hands roughly. 

"I don't want to, thanks though." 

You frown at that, wondering why he's upset all of a sudden. 

"Did I d-do something wro-wrong?" You ask anxiously, aware of his change in behavior. 

"I'm tired is all," Jungkook says as he stands up suddenly, the piece of paper you gave to him floating down next to you on the ground. You take it carefully and place it in your bag along with the pencils. 

"Ok. I'll j-just go home then." You say, picking yourself up off the ground, "You sh-should go get some r-rest, Jungkook." You say kindly, putting your purse over your shoulder. Jungkook doesn't meet your eyes as he nods. 

"See you later," Jungkook says stiffly before turning and walking away. 

You bite your lip, waving goodbye to him even though he can't see you.

-

Jungkook runs up the stairs to his apartment, bursting through the door and tugging his shoes off. He notices that Tae isn't here as he walks over and sits on his bed. 

What the hell is the matter with him?

Why does he feel like this?

Suddenly the door opens and Taehyung struts in, pulling his shoes off and dropping them by the door. Jungkook looks up and does a double-take when he sees his friend. 

Taehyung is in a black and white suit, the first few buttons of his shirt undone, the tie loosened and his black hair a bit messed up. He looks rumpled like he was just in a fight. But that isn't what takes Jungkook by surprise. 

His friend is covered in bright red blood.  

And he's smiling brightly, his white teeth a shining contrast against the dark stains on his clothes. 

Jungkook swallows, "What the fuck, Tae?"

Taehyung just grins wider, "I win." 

Jungkook hangs his head, "You came up the damn stairs like that? You fucking dumbass. What if someone saw you?"

"No one saw me, chill JK!" Taehyung walks over and holds his hand out, "I believe you owe me something." 

Jungkook fishes his wallet out of his back pocket and pulls out the amount they promised before shoving it into Tae's bloody chest. 

Then he walks to the kitchen and grabs the to-go box he brought back. He holds it up for Tae to see, "This is for you. Wash up before you eat it though."

Taehyung walks over and touches Jungkook lightly on the chin, "Thanks, sweetie." Jungkook pulls away, feeling something on his face that was on Tae's finger. He reaches up to wipe the blood off of his chin, "Go wash up," He snaps. 

Tae just nods and saunters off into the bathroom. 

A few hours later, Jungkook is in bed and listening to Taehyung rant about how fucking satisfying it was to rid this world of that rapist bastard and how Jungkook should've seen the look on his hit's face when he realized who he was and why he was there. 

"So, how is your hit coming along? How is ___ doing?" Tae asks suddenly. 

Jungkook tenses at the sound of your name, then he remembers that Taehyung saw the file and that's how he knows your name. 

"I'll be done soon," Jungkook assures him quietly. 

"Mm." Tae responds, then he yawns, "What does she look like anyway? I didn't get to see since you tore up the picture."

Jungkook swallows thickly, "Why does it matter?"

"Is she hot?"

"No."

"Come on, I bet she's a fucking cutie. That's why you're so down in the dumps." 

"She's just a fucking idiot. She's annoying, stupid, ugly, and can't even speak correctly." Jungkook huffs out in a single breath before turning on his side and slamming his head down on his pillow again. 

The silence after that is deafening. 

"The fuck you mean she can't speak correctly?" Taehyung guffaws suddenly. 

"It means exactly how it sounds. She's just a worthless nobody." Jungkook spits. 

Tae laughs quietly, "Damn, that's harsh, Kook. Even for you."

"Shut the hell up and go to sleep."

"As you wish. Night, JK."

"Goodnight." Jungkook grits out. 

When he's finally able to drift off to sleep, Jungkook finds himself in an apartment that he's never been in before. His brain tells him that it's his target's place. 

He looks around, wondering why it's so quiet. He walks to the back, looking at all of the childish pictures decorating the walls of the hallway. 

"Hello?" He calls out cautiously. 

When he gets no answer, he walks into the room at the end of the hall. There's a big bed with a giant octopus stuffie on it. Next to the bed is a pair of pink slippers. 

Jungkook turns and walks into the bathroom inside the room, there's no one. When he moves to leave, he sees his reflection in the mirror and freezes.

He's covered in blood. 

A dark crimson color decorating every inch of him. 

Jungkook turns and sees the bed again, but this time, there's someone in it. He walks out of the bathroom and sees a body lying motionless on the mattress. It's also covered in blood. 

His heart rate picks up as he sees sudden flashing images of the target, holding his hand and dragging him out of a restaurant, laughing giddily. Then you're kneeling in front of him on the grass and offering him a blank piece of paper, "You can d-draw anything, Jungkook." You stand up and swing your arms out, "Draw m-me!" 

Then the images are gone and he once again sees the lifeless body on the bed. It's wearing a long white skirt and a peach-colored shirt, their socks are bright pink with frills. He can't stop seeing all of the little details. 

Jungkook stops breathing as he inches closer to see the face.

A feeling of dread washes over him as he steps closer and closer. 

"J-Jungkook?" A small voice whispers somewhere near him, but he doesn't stop walking closer. He needs to see it. He needs to see their face. 

"Jungkook, I th-thought you were m-my friend-"

He swallows thickly his throat suddenly dry as he is about to see the face of the person he just killed. Then someone walks through the bedroom door, he looks up and sees Taehyung smirking, covered in blood as well. 

"Nice, JK. I guess you really had it in you." 

The small voice doesn't stop as Jungkook turns back to see hair covering the girl's face. He reaches over and moves the hair gently-

"J-Jungkook-"

"Jungkook..."

"Jungkook!"

"JUNGKOOK!"

Jungkook shoots straight up, his eyes wide open as he grabs at his chest. He starts to cough while he feels himself, trying to make sure he isn't covered in blood. 

He's in his own bed. 

Fucking hell he's in his own bed.

"Shit, the hell kind of dream were you having?" Taehyung's voice rings out next to him. Jungkook flinches and looks to the side to see Tae sitting on the edge of his bed. 

"You're sweating like a turkey the day before Thanksgiving." Tae laughs.

Jungkook ignores him and stumbles out of bed, trying to get to the bathroom.

Taehyung watches in confusion as Jungkook fumbles his way into the bathroom and then he hears his younger friend fall on the ground before he starts to gag.

"Hey, whoa. You okay, Jeon?" Tae gets up and moves to the bathroom to see Jungkook hunched over the toilet and throwing up whatever was in his stomach. 

The older boy plugs his nose and gags at the sight, "Shit, Kook. Fuck." 

By the time Jungkook's stomach is emptied of its contents, Tae has all the young man's clothes off apart from his boxers and has tossed him into the shower to rinse him clean. Tae gags again at the smell as he rinses Jungkook off before putting some shampoo in his hair and rinsing him again.

"Fucking pain in my ass," Tae mutters angrily. 

Once Jungkook is all cleaned off, Taehyung grabs him some fresh boxers and a pair of sweats to put on. He tosses them on the closed toilet seat and closes the door behind him so Jungkook can get dressed in private. 

A few minutes later, Jungkook comes out of the bathroom, his hair wet but he's clean and in nice new clothes. His cheeks are pink from embarrassment, but Tae just waves it off when he tries to speak. 

"Ah shut up. I know, ya ate something bad. Blah blah blah. We never speak of this again, understood?" 

Jungkook just nods at Tae's words, then he speaks up quietly, "Want to go shopping now?"

The older boy stands up and claps his hands, "Finally! We'll have something to eat around here."

Jungkook is relieved that it's all in the past by the time they get to the grocery store, but that relief is short-lived when he sees a girl in a long pink skirt and light yellow shirt carrying a basket down the candy aisle right in front of them. 

She trips a little on thin air but catches herself, her usual bright smile gracing her features still. 

Then she looks up and sees him, her smile getting wider as she raises her hand to get his attention.

Fucking hell.

____________________

a/n: so sorry its late my loves, but i hope you liked it!

[yeahimaloser]

I'm Home

Hello! I'm so sorry this took so long to make! the final few weeks of school has been busting my ass, but it's almost over!

Anyways, here is part two to Come Home!

Summary: After your fight, Dabi tries to find you in order to make things right, he wants to show you how much he loves you.

Warnings: angst, tiny bit suggestive if you squint.

. . .

The first thing Dabi felt as he awoke was a splitting headache.

He grabbed his head as it throbbed in pain, shaking it painfully. He grouped around, his eyes still tightly closed from the pain, trying to feel you near him, but all he could feel were the cool bedsheets underneath his palm.

Maybe you were making breakfast? You always did know how to cheer him up after a nasty hangover.

Dabi groaned as something gnawed at the back of his mind, a memory fogged with alcohol and yelling and…

You.

He jolted up, soon after regretting it because his whole body felt like it was being crushed down. He had to give himself a moment to let his head august, but when it did, he was grabbing at his phone, looking at the time.

Eleven a.m.

Dabi felt a coldness run through his vines. There were no texts from you, no calls, no anything.

“Fuck,” his voice felt hoarse and gruff, but in all honesty, he couldn’t give two shits.

He had fucked up. He had fucked up the one thing he needed, the one, perfect thing he had.

It was one thing for him to come home drunk, he knew that maybe you would have forgiven him then. But he remembered all those things he said about you, all those horrible things he said came rushing back.

Obviously, he didn’t mean them, how could he? He loved you so much, and maybe he didn’t tell you that as often as he should have, but he really, truly did.

Except now he had fucked up, and he had fucked up big.

And he missed you, he missed seeing your face as he woke up, watching you tease him by saying; “aww look how finally decided to come out.”

To which a very hungover him would probably say; “Whatever,” and probably just start cuddling up to you.

But he didn’t get that, he didn’t deserve that.

He opened his messages to you, seeing as you didn’t even text him to let him know where you were, which he knew was ironic.

He stared down at the blank messages, hatting how the last text you sent him was from yesterday, around one in the morning.

Y/N: I love you

He growled before stumbling out of bed, he quickly realized that standing up was a bad idea.

As he put a hand to his head, trying to steady the pounding in his brain, he clicked on the button that had your phone ringing.

He waited.

And waited.

And then-

Nothing. You didn’t pick up.

Maybe it was too early?

He knew that wasn’t at all the case, you were ignoring him, and really, he couldn't blame you. He had been a dick to you last night, and all he wanted to do was apologize to you, tell you that he wanted you to stay with him.

Dabi was absolute shit at words, he had a hard time expressing himself in general. But, he knew he had to convince you to stay, somehow.

He groaned to himself, how the fuck was he supposed to find you?

. . .

You had driven far.

Far enough where you knew nothing looked familiar, far enough where you knew that nothing would make you compelled to come home. It was just you, and nothing more.

Finally, you found some shitty motel, asked for a room, and that was it.

Well, except for the fact that you cried for a few hours, only to crash out.

To be honest, you felt pathetic. Which was concerning because you had done nothing wrong. Anyone would have reacted the same, anyone would have walked away and been just as mad as you.

But you felt so miserable.

Maybe what Dabi did was absolutely horrendous, and any rational person would be upset, seeing as he didn’t even think to tell you he was ok (the one thing you asked him to tell you), and all the mean things he said? Your heart still hurt from that. But you loved him. You loved him, and it felt heavy to stay away from him, like each moment he wasn’t with you, you felt like a brick was added to your lungs, till your body felt so pressed down you couldn’t move.

For most of that night, all you could do was cry.

And then sleep.

And you slept late.

Yet, if you were honest you couldn’t care. Thinking about Dabi just made you feel sick, thinking about the fact that you left Dabi also made you feel sick, and then thinking about leaving made you feel sick like if you moved, you would break.

So you just stayed, not thinking, not moving, not even bothering to august your position when you got uncomfortable.

You just wanted to be sad, you just wanted to be left alone. To wallow in self-pity and sadness, to not think about the fact that you might have just lost your boyfriend, the one man you truly thought you deserved.

After a few, long, dragged-out moments, you heard a quiet knock at your door.

Your brows furrowed, who could that be?

You hadn’t ordered any food, there was no reason the staff would be knocking at your door, so who the hell could it be?

“Coming,” your voice was hoarse, probably from the crying.

You rolled off your spot on your bed, not bothering to check how you looked, you just wanted to be left alone.

You opened up your door, and shock washed over you.

To any other person, he would look like...well to be completely honest he would like an idiot.

He had a hoodie and shades on, and a mask to cover up his scars, as well as a red cap to not draw suspicion to his hair.

But you knew Dabi when you saw him.

Dabi took a long breath before he spoke, “Y/N...Y/N I’m sorry.”

You planted your feet firmly, keeping your voice as steady as you could, “Just come in before anyone notices you.”

Dabi nodded, stepping into the small space of the motel room, shuffling around you as he came in.

You shut the door, trying to compose yourself as Dabi took off his “disguise.”

“...Have you been crying?”

Those were not the first words you wanted to hear after your fight with Dabi, a part of you wanted him to beg for you to come back with him (which you knew wouldn’t happen, he was way too stubborn). And yet, a part of you didn’t want that, you wanted him to just leave, he was the one who caused this, after all, he was the one who should take some responsibility.

And yet, the other, deeper part of you, just wanted to run into his arms, and cry. You just wanted him to hold you, to kiss you, to silently rub your back like he always did to soothe you. You just wanted your Dabi back.

But instead, you huffed, “Of course you would say something like that,” you turned your back to him, not wanting him to see the disappointment on your face.

But Dabi grabbed your wrist, “Hey, I was just worried because...well because I thought you would have been more mad than depressed. You did nothing wrong.”

Well, now you were starting to get mad. You whipped back around to him, snatching your wrist out of his hold, “Not everyone needs to do something shitty to feel upset, Dabi. You hurt me, I’m not just gonna walk away from something like that feeling all angry. I was upset because you don’t care.”

Dabi’s face shifted into one of startlement, “I don’t care? Doll, what are you talking about? I drove all the way here because I care. I won’t bullshit you, I was an ass. I should have called you and I should have come home earlier than I did. And those things I said, those were fucked up, and I don’t mean them. I-I don’t have an excuse. But I’m here now, I’m here because I’m sorry Y/N and I wanna fix this.”

You sighed, “Dabi, you really hurt me-”

“I know, and I just wanna...apologize. Y/N, that was wrong of me, I was an ass, and you don’t deserve that. I miss you Y/N, and I know you deserve something better than...this.”

Your eyes narrowed, “What can you not even say how we’re in a relationship.”

“No- that’s not what I-,” Dabi shook his head, “Y/N, I love you, and I know I don’t say that all that often because you know it’s hard. But I really can’t lose you. You’re just about all I have left,” he chuckled a bit.

A long, stretched-out moment passed between you two before you sighed and moved towards Dabi.

“I love you too.”

And there it was, that devilish smirk on his face, “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I caught that, would you mind repeating it please?”

“You’re pushing it.”

“Ok, ok sorry.”

You both paused, waiting for something to break the eerie silence that filled up in the space between you two.

And finally, it all came out.

“...Did you mean all that stuff you said.”

“No, I meant none of it.”

You sighed, “Even the part where... where you said I was better off without you? Even the part where you said I should leave you?”

Dabi visibly bristled, “Doll-”

He was silent, and you could feel the temperature in the room heat up.

“You can do better than me, I’ve always thought that that part of our relationship would have been obvious. But, if you’re asking if I want that? Then no. I want you to come home, I want to fix this because I love you, I want you to stay with me.”

You took a long, deep, pause before answering, “I do too, Dabi. It’s just, your words hurt, and I don’t know if I can magically forgive you yet.”

Dabi felt his chest tightening, “...So then, what do we do?”

You fiddled with your hands, “I’m not really sure.”

“I don’t wanna break up-”

“Neither do I,” you interjected, “I don’t wanna leave you, Dabi. that’s the last thing I want to do. I just don’t know how I can get over this.”

“Do you want some space?”

You paused.

Did you want space? A part of you knew that maybe it was the responsible thing to do, a part of you thought that maybe, maybe it would do you both good to separate for a bit.

But the other part of you, the one screaming inside, was telling you no, you didn’t want space.

You missed Dabi’s arms around you, missed the way his hands felt so protective around your body. You missed the way his lips would fall on yours, ever so dominant in his way. No, you didn’t want space, you just wanted him.

“No,” you said, “no I don’t want space.”

“So then,” Dabi started, “What do you want.”

You leaned into him, as he did the same. Your eyes meet as you both seem to have a mutual need for one another.

“I want you.”

Your lips collided with his, your breath was taken away as his hands grabbed at the small of your back. The way his body formed against yours, as you hugged yourself tightly to him.

You couldn’t help but sigh as Dabi deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding past yours as he grabbed you by your hips.

You gasped suddenly as he pushed you up on the wall of the motel, your eyes going wide, only to be met with a loud growl from Dabi.

If you were being completely honest, you loved when he got like this, so in the moment, so passionate. The way he was so dominating made your legs shake, made your stomach boil with anticipation.

You wanted more.

You gripped onto Dabi’s hair, earning a surprising moan from him, his hands flinch on your hips.

But he got you back.

His body closed up around yours, tight against you, like you had nowhere to go.

Unfortunately, you had to breathe. Which would have ended the forgiving kiss.

Well, except, Dabi decided to go exploring on your neck.

His lips were rough against your skin, but they always had such care to them as Dabi pressed them to you. Such a loving air, and yet, such a claiming one as well. A kind of way to say, “You are mine, and I will show you.”

“D-Dabi,” you hated how you stuttered. But the way Dabi looked back up at you made it worth it.

He brought his lips away from your neck, only to place them again on yours.

After a moment, he pulled back.

“So,” Dabi said breathless, “...I’m forgiven?”

“...you ruined the moment.”

. . .

tag-list

@breezybear @softkao @fandomofheroes @lovely-angst @nadaespexial @effmigentlywithachainsaw @cold-dreamy-eyes @satansgf1

I HOPE YALL DONT MIND IF I TAGGED YOU IN THE PART TWO!

[morganaspendragonss]

fic request because i am d e s p e r a t e : tarlos carlos whump with supportive gabriel reyes ??? if you’re down to write him that is. i love ur work n ur whump n i think u would write a p good gabe. 🥰

holly’s august extravaganza day 1: against all odds (we're still here)

i'm always down to write gabriel! thanks for the prompt trick, i hope you like it!

ao3 | 2k | car accidents, whump, major character injury, angst with a happy ending

“I told you we should have brought the car.”

Carlos scowls over at TK, shifting one of the many bags he’s carrying higher on his arm. It cuts painfully into his skin, his good mood from earlier long since soured. The knowledge that TK is, of course, right isn’t exactly helping matters.

“In my defence,” he starts, for probably the fifth or sixth time, “when we texted your dad to see if he wanted us to pick up anything from the store, I wasn’t expecting a full list.”

“We could have told him no.”

“TK, he’s your dad and we are literally crashing his home right now. I’m not gonna tell him no.”

TK opens his mouth, presumably to retort with a comment about how his dad loves Carlos and loves having them around. Both of which are things Carlos knows perfectly well, thanks, but he’s still not interested in testing it by refusing to get Owen’s kale chips or that specific brand of shampoo which took half an hour—and two stores—to track down.

Whatever TK was about to say is abandoned when one of his own bags slips out of his grasp and falls to the ground with a depressing thud. It bursts open—because why wouldn’t it—and spills their purchases across the sidewalk. The only solace is that nothing breaks, but that’s where the good news begins and ends; Carlos’s eyes track a can as it rolls down the street and into the gutter, landing in a puddle of dirty water. TK looks forlornly between the dropped bag and those still balanced on his arms, then heaves a long-suffering sigh and crouches awkwardly, easing the other bags down as carefully as he can manage.

“Call an Uber,” he grumbles. “We are not walking home like this.”

On that point, they’re in agreement. Carlos spares himself a moment of idle amusement at TK’s predicament before beginning the arduous task of extracting his phone from his pocket without dropping any of his own shopping.

He’ll hate himself for it later, but he’s so focused that the screech of tires coming around the corner barely registers as a blip on his radar. He doesn’t notice anything until TK suddenly barrels into him, throwing Carlos to the side just before something else, something heavy, crashes into them with a blinding flash of pain, and then—

Nothing.

*

Oh my god!

Someone call 911!

Are they even alive?

Just hold on, son, you’re going to be just fine.

*

Beeping.

Carlos frowns, slowly blinking his heavy eyelids open. It takes a minute to register his surroundings for what they are—a hospital room—and a further minute to notice the presence at his side. It’s his father, looking exhausted, turning his cowboy hat in his hands as he stares at the floor.

“Dad?” he croaks, wincing at the soreness in his throat. “What happened?”

His father’s head jerks up, his eyes going wide as he sees Carlos awake. “Mijo. It’s good to see you awake.”

“Dad, why am I here? What happened?”

He sighs, reaching out to pat Carlos’s arm. “There was an accident,” he explains. “A drunk driver lost control of his car and mounted the curb right where you boys were standing. He was speeding, so he hit you pretty hard. Your foot was crushed under a wheel, you have a fractured wrist, and you bumped your head when you fell so you probably have a concussion. The doctors say you should heal just fine, though, gracias a Dios.”

Carlos lifts his head to look down at his body, only just registering the casts on his arm and foot. There’s a dull ache radiating through his entire body and his head is pounding in time with his heartbeat, but he’s alive and he’ll heal. He should be happy about that, but the only thing occupying his mind is his dad’s silence on TK.

“What about TK?” he asks, part of him dreading the answer. “I remember him pushing me; is he okay?”

“He’s…” His dad hesitates, sending a cold slither of fear down Carlos’s spine. “Alive.”

Carlos stares, the beginnings of panic stealing his breath. “What does that mean?”

His father blows out a long breath. “It means you were right,” he says, meeting Carlos’s eyes. “He did push you, so he took the brunt of the hit. He suffered a serious open pelvic fracture and broken ribs, which punctured his lung. Last I heard, they managed to fix him up and they’re not expecting any further complications, but we won’t know for sure until he wakes up.”

“He hasn’t woken up?”

“Not yet. He will, you’ll see.”

“I want to see him.”

And Carlos knows what the answer will be to that—a resounding no. He also knows that he won’t be able to argue; his father is incredibly stubborn, and when he digs his heels in, there’s no moving him. But he needs to at least try—he’s not going to stop worrying about TK until he sees him, and probably not for a long time after that.

His dad sighs and fixes him with a firm look. “Carlitos, you and I both know that’s out of the question,” he says. “You’ve only just woken up, you need to give yourself time to heal before exerting your body even more. Besides, he’s in good hands and Owen is with him, so we’ll know as soon as there’s any change.”

“Joder, Papá, I know all that,” Carlos cries, frustrated, barely able to refrain from throwing his head back on the pillow. “I just hate that he’s here, hurt, and I can’t even see him.”

“Lo sé,” His dad smiles gently, something that’s probably supposed to be comforting, but really only gets on Carlos’s nerves. “Escúchame, hijo. Descansa. Cúrate. Then you can focus on TK.”

It’s easier said than done and his father knows it, but Carlos has no choice. The conversation is effectively put to an end by his dad reaching over and pressing the call button next to the bed. A nurse comes in and quickly sets about checking his vitals and asking enough questions to make Carlos’s head spin. His probable concussion becomes definite, but otherwise he’s in good shape, all things considered.

He can’t help but wish he weren’t.

*

Two days later, Carlos is deemed fit to be discharged, providing he has someone to help him and providing he agrees to rest and not do anything even close to strenuous. TK is also awake now but, according to Owen, he’ll be kept in the hospital for at least another week. The break to his pelvis was bad, so he’ll need a wheelchair for a while even after discharge, and his refusal to take strong painkillers means his recovery is going to be long and painful.

Carlos is itching to see him. It’s been torture cooped up in his room without knowing how TK was doing—there’s only so much relief messages passed through their fathers can bring. It had only been his father’s stern and steady presence that had kept him in that bed when he felt like he was losing his mind with worry.

But now, finally, he’s being wheeled into TK’s room and helped onto the chair next to the bed. Owen stands off to the side, watching the two of them with a mixture of affection and sadness in his gaze, and his dad hovers behind him, but Carlos only has eyes for TK.

He looks incredibly tired, but he attempts a smile when he rolls his head to look at Carlos, extending his hand out across the distance between them.

“Hey, Ty,” Carlos says softly, taking TK’s hand in his good one. “How are you feeling?”

“Been better. Not sure if I’ve been worse. I think this might just beat getting shot to that title.”

“That’s not funny.”

TK just hums, his eyes drifting closed for a second. “Maybe not.”

“Why did you push me?”

TK’s eyes fly open at the question, confusion overtaking his expression as he stares at Carlos. He moves as if to sit upright before groaning in pain, his face screwing up. Carlos reaches out for him, but he’s beaten to it by his father, who places a reassuring hand on TK’s shoulder.

“Take it easy, son,” he says gently. “Don’t move too much.”

“I hate this,” TK mutters, his body relaxing bit by bit. His gaze is still clouded when he looks back over at Carlos, but he manages a soft smile all the same. “I pushed you because I didn’t want you to get hurt. The car would have hit me either way; I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to get you out of the way in time.”

Carlos blinks at him, dumbfounded. “You’re sorry?” he asks, disbelief colouring his tone. “Ty, you’re in the hospital, seriously injured, because you chose to save me instead of yourself. Why would you do that?”

“You know why.”

Carlos does; of course he does, but it’s not enough to assuage the guilt still bubbling in his stomach at the sight of TK in the bed.

TK sighs, squeezing his hand. “You would have done the same for me,” he points out. “We both know you would have, so don’t you dare ask me to apologise for my choices.”

“I know. I won’t.” Carlos closes his eyes, deflating a little. “I just hate seeing you hurt.”

“And I hate seeing you hurt, so maybe you can do us both a favour and go home. I’ll be fine.”

Carlos must need his hearing tested, because there’s no way TK just said that. There’s no way his boyfriend told him to leave right after calling him out for hypocrisy. Except apparently he did, because he’s trying to disentangle their hands, and Carlos is not having that.

He grips onto TK even tighter and glares at him. “TK, if you think I’m leaving you here—”

“Carlos,” TK interrupts quietly. “I get it. But, babe, you need to rest and heal, and you can’t do either of those things sitting here.”

“Watch me.”

“No.” TK shifts his gaze over Carlos’s shoulder, a slight smirk playing at his lips. “Mr Reyes, can you make sure he rests?”

His dad laughs, leaning over to pat TK’s shoulder. “Of course. I’m sure once his mother sees him, she won’t let him out of her sight for a week anyway.”

TK grins. “Good to know.” He yawns and resettles himself slightly in the bed, his eyes fluttering shut. “Carlos, if you’re still here when I next open my eyes, I’m not kissing you for a month.”

“You shouldn’t make threats you know you can’t follow through with.”

“Don’t make me make it two.”

Despite himself, Carlos laughs. He leans over and presses a lingering kiss to TK’s temple, then stands as well as he’s able, leaning on his dad for support. “Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you soon. Love you.”

TK already sounds half-asleep when he mumbles, “Love you too,” back, and Carlos can’t even be embarrassed by how ridiculously smitten he must look, even though he’s in front of both their fathers.

He allows his dad to move him back to the wheelchair and says a quick goodbye to Owen, keeping his eyes on TK for as long as he can. Just as they reach the door, he catches TK’s eyes opening to slivers, obviously checking to see if Carlos is actually leaving. Carlos shakes his head at him, causing TK to flush at the knowledge he’s been caught. His eyes slam shut again, his tongue poking out childishly, and Carlos laughs, a lightness settling in his heart even as TK’s room disappears from view.

It’s going to be a long few months for the both of them, but they have family behind them to help them get through it.

And they have each other. Which, given everything, Carlos thinks is nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

[remedialpotions]

Off The Train

Thanks to @mertronus for tagging me in the HPRomione Discord Popcorn game thingy! The prompt she gave me was: "I can finally see you."

I'm tagging @acnelli with the prompt: "You can't just keep pretending things are fine!"

***

”I can’t wait until you get off that train,” says Ron, his voice low and lazy with fatigue, “and I can finally see you.”

Hermione shifts in her bed so she’s lying on her side, mirror held out before her. This way, she can pretend - if she squints a bit, and ignores the crimson hangings of her four-poster bed - that he’s lying next to her, and not hundreds of miles away in London.

“What do you mean, ‘finally’?” Hermione, too, keeps her voice quiet. It won’t do, in her final days as Head Girl, to be waking her dormmates. “You’re looking at me right now.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same. I can see you, but I can’t touch you, or...” The corner of Ron’s mouth twitches up into a crooked smile. “Or do anything else for that matter.”

“Right. Well,” she says, trying to infuse positivity into her voice, despite the weeks since the Easter holidays dragging into what felt like months and years, despite missing him so much that it’s like a heavy fog surrounding her. “It’s only a couple more days, right?”

“Can’t it be now?” Ron looks like he’s reclined in bed too now, his fiery hair stark against the deep navy of his sheets. “Just get to Hogsmeade, then you can Apparate-“

“You know full well that I cannot,” she replies briskly, even though it’s tempting, really tempting. “It’s-“

“-behavior unbecoming of a Head Girl,” Ron finishes her sentence. “I know. I just miss you, that’s all.”

“I miss you too.”

“I love you,” he adds after a moment’s silence, before his eyes widen with inspiration. “Oh, I’ve got it. What if I Apparate to Hogsmeade, and then walk to the castle - I bet Hagrid would let me through the gates-“

“It’s only two days, Ron.”

He sighs. “Fine.”

“And I love you too.”

He grinned. “Yeah, I know.”

•••

Pigwidgeon is the last owl to fly into the Great Hall, his little wings beating wildly to keep him aloft. With a scrap of parchment clutched in his tiny talons, he struggles over to the Gryffindor table before somersaulting down into Hermione’s lap.

Hermione’s heart sinks, and not just at the sight of the exhausted little bird currently burrowing into the crook of her elbow. Their two-way mirrors mean they don’t usually have to resort to writing letters. Not unless...

Hermione, the parchment reads when she unfolds it. Got called on an emergency mission. I’m not allowed to tell you where or why or even how long but I’m hoping it won’t take too long. I’m still going to be there at King’s Cross, because I’m dying to see you and I can’t wait until all this is over and we can just be together. Anyway, I love you and try not to worry too much. I promise to do my best not to die.

Ron

“Oh, good,” comes Ginny’s voice from beside her, and Hermione turns to see her peering intently at the parchment. “He’s promised not to die, that’s a relief-“

“He’ll be there,” interrupts Hermione, tucking the note in the pocket of her robes before Ginny can further infringe upon her privacy. “If he thinks it’ll only take a day, then I believe him.”

Ginny blinks. “I never said he wouldn’t be.” Plucking Pigwidgeon from Hermione’s lap, she offers him water from her goblet. “I’m sure he knows what he’s talking about.”

“It’s probably just a quick day trip,” Hermione rationalizes, eyes focused hard on Pigwidgeon as he drinks so she doesn’t have to see the sympathy she knows is etched on Ginny’s face, “and he just wanted me to know in case - well-”

“In case he dies?”

Ginny’s attempt at a joke falls flat.

“Well, just in case, you know, something were to - to happen,” Hermione stammers, “and anyway, it’s just good for me to know - I like to know what he’s up to - not in a controlling way or anything, just-”

“Of course,” Ginny interjects bracingly. “I’m sure he just wanted you to know, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll be there.”

Hermione picks up her mug of tea and holds it close to her face so the steam washes over her. She knows what they’re both thinking but are unwilling to say: that in the year Ron and Harry have been Aurors, neither has had a mission run shorter than a week.

•••

And so Hermione sits with Ginny and Luna on the train, watching the Scottish Highlands slowly transform into the low, tidy hills of the English countryside outside her window and hoping against hope that Ron will be there on Platform 9 and ¾. But she hasn’t heard from him since that first letter, and his mirror has gone dark. This doesn’t worry her - not for his safety, anyway - but it does make it difficult to share in Ginny’s gleeful anticipation as the train pulls into King’s Cross.

She busies herself with tending to Crookshanks, who is furious about his prolonged confinement in his basket, as Harry and Ginny embrace on the platform. It’s not that she’s upset, not really. Ron is doing what he needs to do, and she would never want him shirking his responsibilities just so he can kiss her on a train platform for the first time since April. She just wishes things could be different.

After Harry and Ginny depart for Grimmauld Place, she flags down a taxi and rides alone to her parents’ home. The family car is parked in front, which is unusual for a weekday, but when she goes inside, she finds her parents have been eagerly awaiting her arrival and can hardly let her set down her trunk before whisking her away to an upscale restaurant in South Kensington.

“So, tell us about school,” says Mum with an eager smile once they’re seated at their candlelit table. “How were your exams? I want to hear everything.”

“I will later,” Hermione replies, raising her brows and tipping her head pointedly in the direction of the waiter currently pouring red wine into their glasses.

“Oh, right, right, of course. Well, anyway, dear,” she begins as the waiter sets down menus and strides away, “your father and I have a little surprise for you.”

It’s foolish, she knows, but her mind leaps instantly to Ron. Maybe all of this business with his mission has been a ruse, and he’s here in London after all, and she’ll be able to come up with an excuse to spend the night at Grimmauld Place…

Until she notices that her parents are still talking, and there’s no tall, lanky, red-haired wizard to be seen in this high-end French restaurant, but there are three Eurostar boarding passes laid out across the tablecloth.

“Sorry,” says Hermione, shaking her head to clear away the daydream, “what’s going on?”

“We’re going to Paris!” announces Mum with delight. “We thought it would be so lovely to spend time together since you’ve been away for so long, and you’re about to start your new job - and I know you’ve always wanted to go there. We’ve got ten whole days, and everything’s booked, so all you’ve got to do is pack.”

“That - that’s - that’s brilliant,” Hermione musters, forcing her lips into some semblance of a smile. Her parents beam so brightly back that it’s almost difficult to look at them. “Erm, so when are we leaving?”

She crosses her fingers under the table, praying they’ll say August, or her birthday in September, or Christmas, anything but-

“This weekend!”

Of course.

•••

Paris is beautiful. It exceeds every single one of Hermione’s expectations. She and her parents consume copious amounts of bread, cheese and wine, they visit museums and cafes and old bookstores, they ascend to the top of the Eiffel Tower and take in the view. She thinks of Ron constantly as she walks the cobbled streets, as she crosses the Pont des Artes and sees the countless locks affixed to its railing. Before she left, she sent Harry an owl to tell him that she was leaving, so Ron would know where she was if he returned home before she did. As they can’t communicate when she’s staying in a Muggle hotel, she truly has no idea where he is, but she tells herself that he’s still on his mission. It feels better that way, imagining that even if she stayed in London, there would still be obstacles keeping them apart.

On their last day, she nearly empties out a patisserie buying eclairs and macarons for Ron, and then they board the Eurostar back to England. Nervous anticipation grips her stomach as the train barrels through the tunnel (idly, she wonders if Ron’s dad is aware of this train that travels underwater, and makes a mental note to tell him), because she has no idea what awaits her back in London. What if Ron’s still away? Or worse - what if something’s happened to him, and she’s been off enjoying a holiday while he’s been suffering?

The train can’t move quickly enough. Hermione can focus on nothing - not the paperback romance novel her mother has loaned her to read, not the Muggle newspaper that her father is engrossed in, not even the argument of the couple seated across the aisle from them. It’s only a two-hour trip, so why does it feel like it’s taking days?

She checks her mirror, but it’s still dark.

“You go ahead, sweetheart,” says Dad when the train finally rolls to a stop in St. Pancras station. “We’ll get the cases.”

Hermione looks up at the luggage rack over their heads, then at her parents. “Are you sure? I’ll bring mine-”

“We can manage. Go on ahead, get some fresh air.”

She doesn’t bother reminding them that train station air is hardly fresh, and instead heads down the aisle with just her purse and the box of pastries in tow. Truly, she’s not sure why her parents have sent her off the train without them; with the station as busy as it is, they’ll surely lose track of each other.

But then she sees him. Standing a head above the crowd, hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans, his bright blue eyes scan the throngs of travelers. At first, she doesn’t believe her eyes. Surely, she’s just become so desperate to see him that she’s actually begun hallucinating.

But as she draws closer, he doesn’t ripple into nothingness, he doesn’t fade away. He’s really, truly there, his red hair curling behind his ears, one knee jiggling with pent-up energy the way it always does when he’s particularly impatient. As he turns his head, still surveying the crowd, their eyes lock and the rest of the station recedes into the background. Finally, they’re within sight of each other after months of hushed mirror conversations and stolen moments borrowing Professor McGonagall’s Floo. Hermione picks up speed, nearly skipping across the concrete in her haste, and flings herself into his waiting arms.

She fits against him perfectly. The fabric of his faded t-shirt is soft against her cheek as she breathes him in, and for the first time in recent memory, words fail her completely.

The box of pastries thuds to the ground.

“Hi,” he mutters, lips brushing her skin and sending chills up her spine.

“How - how did you-”

“Harry told me where you’d gone.” He presses a kiss to her cheek, and then, at long last, their lips connect. “It’s not that hard to look up train schedules.”

As reluctant as she is to pull away from him, she leans back just enough to look up at him. Behind the freckles scattered across his face, his cheeks have gone pink. “You’re amazing,” she tells him, rising on tiptoe for another kiss, unconcerned with the passersby and the blast of nearby train whistles.

Ron lifts one shoulder in a casual shrug when they break apart. “Had to meet you on a train platform somehow.”

[twoidiotwriters1]

Until The Very End -(WITS Sequel)

A/N: This month’s chapter is fun and badass, enjoy -Danny

Words: 4,271

Masterlist

Previous chapter // Next chapter

July-August 1998

"All I'm saying is that there was no need to celebrate our birthdays together," Mel shrugged.

"So you don't want to celebrate with me, is that what you're saying? Have you grown tired of your boyfriend?"

"Mr. Potter, can we talk about this some other time?" She raised a brow. "We're working!"

The girl moved through the Ministry corridors holding the files of the Death Eaters her Aurors had managed to catch, quickly reading through them before giving them to Kingsley.

"Alright, I'll nag you again during lunch," He argued playfully.

"Sure," She retorted without paying attention.

"Mel?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you?"

She stopped and looked up, sending a beaming smile at her boyfriend.

"I love you too. Bye!"

Once Mel started walking again, her assistant approached her.

"Hi, Todd—"

"There's someone in your office, boss, says he wants to talk to you," He said tensely.

It got her attention. Todd was always polite, but his tone was far from the lighthearted one in which he would usually speak to her.

"Who?"

"Mr. Malfoy."

"Lucius?"

"His son."

"Draco?" She asked in surprise. "So he's out of his hiding spot?"

Todd nodded once, he grabbed the papers and she thanked him before redirecting herself back to her office.

What did Malfoy want? He'd been out of the public eye for weeks, no one knew about him or his family, and most believed they'd fled the country. Was he there to confess his crimes? Not that Mel didn't know, and if she hadn't sent anyone to hunt him was because of his mother.

It was also because Harry was dying to have a reason to go after Malfoy, he'd never forgiven him for almost killing Mel at the end of their sixth year. She wasn't exactly happy, but she didn't hate him. If anything, she felt pity, he'd had it rough the last three years.

Of course, Mel and Harry had it rough their whole lives, so she couldn't feel that much pity either way.

When she entered her office she found Malfoy waiting there, standing in the middle of the room looking like he'd been petrified. He turned around quickly and the girl stared at him for a second. She finally closed the door and approached calmly.

"Malfoy," She said, "you're in London, then?"

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" He retorted in the same tone.

Mel stretched out her hand, Malfoy shook it briefly.

"Well, you didn't come here just to see my pretty face," She circled the desk and sat down. "What do you want?"

"I heard you and Potter are decent at what you do. Hunting down Death Eaters and sending them to Azkaban..." His eyes fixed on his hands.

"If you're here for your father..." Mel started, but Draco cut her speech.

"I know there are a few that you've found harder to track down. Is it true?"

Mel frowned. "What about it? You're feeling helpful?"

"I'd rather eat my own hand than to help you for free," He sneered, finally looking up from his fingers.

"What do you want?" She insisted.

"I want my family to be left alone."

"Your family has done far too many things for me to turn a blind eye—"

"We never killed."

"Your aunt murdered Sirius Black!"

"She's not my family!" He retorted, finally losing his composure. "She's a mental woman that my mother was too kind to kick out of our house!"

"Look at you," Mel let out a dry laugh. "You gaining sense? Little ferret is finally ready to face the harsh truth, is it?"

Malfoy ran a hand over his mouth hastily as if forcing the words he so badly wanted to say to remain buried inside him.

"I know where Yaxley's hiding. I know where Nott is as well."

"What about Crabbe?"

"Yes."

"And you'll tell us where they are if I give you my word that your parents won't be punished?"

"Yes."

"What about you?"

"What?"

"Well, Draco, you didn't kill," She leaned back on her chair and showed him the scars she had on her neck. "But you tried. Two years ago you almost killed Katie Bell, Ron Weasley, and Albus Dumbledore. I'm sure I'm missing some names there since I know Tom Riddle used you as his puppet to torture those who pestered him. Am I wrong?"

No response.

"You know I can't let you walk away," She said, real pity in her words this time. "I can forgive your mother because it was thanks to her that Harry came back in one piece. Your father has spent quite some time in Azkaban, and I'm sure his wife will make sure he won't be going back anytime soon... but you..."

"What if I give you the Dark artifacts my father keeps in the manor?" He proposed, eyes eager. "All of it. We have no use for them and I know my father would be too tempted in the long run... I don't care for those things. They're rubbish."

He wanted to change, and he wanted to be left alone, more than anything. Malfoy had a lifetime ahead of eery looks and whispers behind his back, he would have to deal with it on his own. If he ever decided to have children, he would have to live knowing they'd be judged equally as hard as he was. It troubled her deeply.

"Listen, Malfoy..." She sighed. "I know you aren't lying. I can see it. But it's not up to me to decide whether you'll be pardoned or not. I have to talk to Kingsley... and it's only fair I ask Harry."

"The bloody Chosen one? He doesn't have the authority!" Malfoy said in outrage. "Is this how is going to be? You're the boss but you still lick his shoes and bend at his will?"

"Why don't you shut your mouth before I kick you out of here?" She frowned. "I'm trying to help you, you bloody fool. For once can you try to swallow your stupid pride and see this from my perspective? If I set you free, more Death Eaters will try to buy their way out too."

"But they all killed people. All of them," Draco leaned forward. "My parents never killed, and neither did I. I can prove we're innocent and I can show you the others aren't. You're a Legilimens, aren't you? You can put me on trial. I'll do it."

Mel considered it, she would need to have a talk with Kingsley, and she would have to talk to Harry, even if he had no real weight on the final verdict, just so he was aware of the situation.

"You're still inhabiting Malfoy manor?"

He nodded silently, waiting tensely for her final response.

"Very well," She stood up. "I'll send my Aurors to retrieve those Dark Artifacts you consider filth. If you give them willingly, I'll talk to Kingsley."

Malfoy nodded, he didn't seem pleased, of course, he was there with his tail between his legs, regretting all of his life choices. Mel was sure he'd be upset for a few more years.

"I'll be waiting for your response," He said once he was at the door. "Don't take too long."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes?"

"Tell your Aurors..." He began, facing the door, "tell them it was an anonymous source. I won't deny we owe the objects," He added quickly. "I just wish to spare the details to my father once he comes back."

Mel sighed tiredly. "I'll tell them."

It'd been a Friday when Draco came into her office. Now it was Sunday, and she was looking at her brother chase Grey in the backyard, her thoughts far away from where she was standing.

She felt someone standing next to her, Remus handed her a butterbeer and eyed her carefully.

"Teddy fell asleep, so we'll be leaving in a few minutes."

"That's alright, Harry and I are planning to go out with Anne and Erick at nine. We're going to the movies."

"He'll stay the night?"

"Yeah," Mel smiled a little. "He likes it here."

"I have the feeling he would like anywhere as long as you're there."

"Now, Moony, don't be sentimental."

Remus chuckled, he nudged her arm. "What's pecking you?"

Mel spoke without looking away from her brother.

"Draco Malfoy visited my office the other day... he offered to give me current whereabouts of the missing Death Eaters, in exchange I'd have to let him and his family alone."

Remus nodded. "And?"

"Kingsley approves it, but I haven't talked to Harry."

"You think he'll be against it?"

"I think he'll agree but he won't like it," Mel shifted uncomfortably. "Malfoy almost got us killed more than once, but we're no saints either... truth is that we tortured each other to the same extents and if we were given a chance to start over, I think it's fair we give him one too."

"I think that you're right," Mel didn't respond. Remus continued. "Peter died at Malfoy Manor, right?"

Mel, remembering that the men had been close friends for a couple of years, nodded ruefully.

"Harry said—"

"We chose vastly different paths growing up. I could've been him, having surrendered to my condition."

"But you didn't Remus, and look at what that brought you," Mel stated, gesturing towards the interior of her house.

"If it weren't for you and Harry... When I thought Emily had died, I felt like I'd run out of friends. I was wrong. James, Lily, Matt, even Sirius... they all live in you three: Harry, Reggie, and you. If life hadn't shown me kindness when I needed it, who knows? Maybe you would be hunting me down as well."

Remus looked over his shoulder to see Harry and Tonks in the kitchen, laughing at something Emily was saying.

"You know Emily had a crush on James, right?

"Yes?" She frowned, not knowing what that had to do with anything.

"You and Harry have something better. You used to adore each other's company when you were babies, we could see you two would be inseparable growing up... I guess that's why Mily was so happy when you admitted you were together."

"I don't know what my life would be without Harry. I think he's comfortable with me too but sometimes... I wonder if we're right together, or if it's just to feel steady..."

"Is there any difference?" Remus asked with a little bit of annoyance. "You chose each other, the reasons matter little. The Malfoys chose what was best for their family, they didn't care for the rest of the world. May sound selfish and heartless, but if it comes down to it, as Draco is proving to you right now, they'll throw all of their beliefs out the window so their family remains safe. He needs your kindness, to prove to himself that doing the right thing is worth it."

"You're right," She took a long swig of her drink. "Malfoy's no longer a threat, he may be a menace to himself but he won't try to take over the wizarding world anytime soon. I'll accept his offer."

"You realize that if he's telling the truth, you'd be done with the Death Eater trials in time to send me off to Hogwarts?"

Mel laughed. "Isn't that a strange scene? A daughter sending her dad to school..."

"It's a real shame I won't be able to teach you again," He sighed. "But I guess at this point you know far more than I do."

"Well, Professor Lupin, if you've got any questions feel free to send me an owl," She winked.

"Guys! Guys! Let's go dancing!"

"How many pints did she drink?" Erick snorted.

"Enough to stop making sense," Harry smiled.

"Oh, you two are such dull old men," Mel groaned. "The night is young and yet you're dying to go home and sleep! Anne, Erick sleeps too much, he's like a cat."

"I'm sorry, some of us don't have the energy of a hyperactive Hippogriff," Erick raised a brow.

"If you want we can go dancing next weekend, Mel," Anne offered kindly. "Just the two of us! Or you can ask Ginny if she'll like to join us, we got along wonderfully last time I saw her..."

"Yes! I've never had a girls' night," Mel grabbed Anne's hand excitedly, she stumbled a little but managed to stop herself from falling. "We'll get drinks and all... Oh, wait, Ginny's not old enough to drink."

"I'm not sure you are old enough to drink," Erick muttered.

"Leave her, she's just happy to go out," The younger boy said calmly. "She's not that drunk anyway, you should've seen Hagrid whenever he drank, that was a little worrying..."

"Sorry if I'm embarrassing you, Flint," Mel yawned. "If you want we can go home, Anne already promised we'll go on a date without you."

"You sound too happy about it," Harry raised a brow. "You're not going to steal Erick's girlfriend, are you?"

"If I do, that'd mean you get a chance to sweep him off his feet, Glasses," She taunted.

"What?" Erick's eyes widened.

"Mel!" Her boyfriend's cheeks turned scarlet, he grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to walk faster.

"Malfoy went to the office?"

"Yeah," She put the glass of cold water on the coffee table, rubbing her eyes she sat back on the couch tiredly. "Want to know what he had to say?"

Harry sat next to her. "I know I won't like it, but say it anyway."

Mel told him the whole story, along with the decision she'd taken that very same day of accepting his help. Harry, as expected, wasn't happy about it, but he understood it was better to have the last remaining Death Eaters locked inside Azkaban than to have his old school rival imprisoned when he no longer represented a risk.

"So when are you going to send those Aurors to his house?"

"Tomorrow. But you won't be going."

"I wasn't trying to," He frowned. "I don't want to."

"Good," She retorted. "You will go with me to look for those missing Death Eaters, though. Looks like I'm finally leaving the office for a while."

"Are you expecting me to speak against it?" Harry asked bemusedly. "If you go we'll catch them ten times faster."

Mel leaned and kissed him casually before standing up, she patted his head once.

"You should sleep, although I don't know how you can rest comfortably on this... I've told you many times you're more than welcome to sleep in my room."

"You won't sleep anywhere near me until we're married," He joked.

Mel snorted. "Is sleeping on the same bed sinful? Am I too tempting, Mr. Potter?"

"Terribly," He smiled. "Go away before I change my mind, or worse, I decide to visit Erick's bedroom instead."

Monday arrived and left with little to think about. Tuesday Mel notified Malfoy about her decision and then he replied to her letter saying he'd be back on Thursday so they'd talk. Wednesday night she went to the Burrow to welcome Ron and Hermione.

"How's work?" Hermione asked.

"A little intimidating, but I think I'm a decent Auror."

"She's being modest," Harry retorted. "Mel's great, all the Aurors agree. The eldest aren't happy to admit it, but she's done her job, they can't call her lousy."

"Not a shocker, that one," Ron shrugged, he was playing chess with Percy. "Anyone ever thought Mel would end up as Head Auror?"

"Never!" Retorted most of them.

"Merlin, thank you," Mel sulked.

"We're complimenting you, lady," Fred raised a brow. "Guess what? According to Jo, we'll be able to reopen our store next month! Good, eh?"

"That's so soon!" She said in surprise. "What about the Muggle-borns?"

"Joseph and Erick will take care of them, Fred and I can go back to being fun."

"What about you, Ron?" Harry asked. "Have you decided what you'll do?"

Ron hesitated, but before he could speak, Hermione clicked her tongue.

"Oh, he won't go back to the castle. He's fine, to be honest. Comes a bit short in Potions and Transfiguration, but that's it. It was just the two of us for a while and I can promise you he's totally capable of working as an Auror."

"Do mine ears deceive me?" Erick walked in carrying little Teddy in his arms. "Hermione Granger is encouraging someone to quit school?"

"Well, as I said, he's learned enough," Hermione blushed at his teasing, Ron's chest swelled with pride.

"I did promise I'd save a place for you, Ron," Mel adopted a serious attitude. "But I'll send you to a Potions course— and Transfigurations as well. Can't have you going around without the proper training."

"Oh, alright. So I have to go back to the castle, then?"

"Nah, Aurors usually take advanced lessons outside Hogwarts, remember? I didn't take them cause, well, I was trained since I was thirteen. Harry, however, insisted on taking the course even though Kingsley assured him no one doubted his abilities."

"They should," Harry said gravely. "I was nowhere near prepared to be an Auror. Either way, it's a fun course, Ron. Bit hard, but just like Mel said we know you can do it. It's a mere formality."

"Listen to yourselves," Emily scowled. "You're a bunch of little gits. 'It's not hard', 'It's a mere formality'—By the time you're thirty you'll be complaining about how the younger generations are all weak."

"No need to sound that aggressive, Mily," Remus smiled. "They grew up fast, it's normal for them to sound a little conceited. I disagree with you, I think once they've been around long enough, they'll be less annoying."

Mel, Harry, and Ron started to complain, but Mrs. Weasley's voice announcing dinner quickly distracted them.

"Hey," Erick approached her, handing Teddy to his father as he walked past. "Malfoy's going to your office tomorrow, right?"

Mel frowned. "How the hell d'you know that?"

He smirked. "I have my sources and I'm not willing to share them. Anyway, I just wanted to ask you to be cautious. He may be ready to change, but he won't change in a day. Please be careful?"

"I may be forgiving, Erick, but I'm not naive," She raised a brow. "I know he can't be trusted entirely. Don't worry, Harry will go with me, we'll be alright."

"Wands up, Yaxley, I won't ask again!"

White lightning hit the wall on her right, Mel jumped away and covered herself, she heard Harry a few feet behind her.

"I have Nott!"

"Good," She stood up again. "Yaxley, you're starting to vex me. D'you really think you can stop me?"

"A girl against two Death Eaters," The man responded from the next room. "You call that a challenge?"

"No. I call that a chance to come quietly so I don't have to hurt you."

The man let out a harsh laugh. "Do your worst, nutter."

Mel sighed. "If I must."

The girl took off her cloak and put her wand in her pocket. She pushed her arms forward, palms facing the wall in front of her: it exploded revealing the two men standing in the middle of the room, pointing their wands at her chest.

Mel shielded herself with one hand while causing Nott's cloak to wrap around him with the other, she did a pulling motion and the man was dragged through the hole in no time.

Yaxley threw a curse at her and she snapped her fingers, twisting her wrist so the man got thrown back against the opposite wall. Next to her, Nott pushed the cloak out of his face and lifted his wand.

"Petrificus totalus!" Harry's voice came from the entrance, he walked in.

"Thanks," She said, leaning and snatching the Death Eater's wand. "I'll take that."

Mel crossed the hole she'd created carefully, she heard movement behind the cloud of dust and decided to grab a hold of her wand again.

"Wand up, Yaxley..." She repeated. "I won't ask again."

"Avada Ke—"

Mel whisked her wand in the direction of the voice, a loud thud was heard right after. The young witch waved her hand elegantly and the dust scattered, giving her full view of Yaxley's body tightly bounded with ropes. She crouched next to him, Mel observed him with a neutral expression before grabbing a hold of his shirt.

"Where's Crabbe?" She asked Harry once she got Yaxley to stand.

"Out of it. Don't worry, I took his wand before coming in," He retorted, drying the sweat on his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "Where's Yaxley's wand?"

"Here," She handed it to him. "Let's put them to sleep before departing."

Mel touched each individual with the tip of her wand, the three men instantly falling unconscious. Tonks was waiting casually next to their car.

"Nice work, guys," She grinned. "Did they give you any trouble?"

"A little," Mel shrugged. "We didn't get hurt though, so it's okay."

"Brilliant," The young woman opened the back door so they could throw in the sleeping men. "Let's go back, I'm hungry."

Her favorite part about finding the Carrows —who somehow managed to escape after the battle of Hogwarts— wasn't the moment in which she and Harry had them cornered. No, her favorite part, was when she dragged them all the way to the Ministry's courtroom and sat them in to be judged.

The siblings were sent to Azkaban in no time, people started to leave the room and congratulate her and Harry for their job. Suddenly it was over, the tiring ordeal of looking for Voldemort's followers was done, and they'd be able to rest, at least for a while.

"Miss Dumbledore! Mr. Potter! A word, please?"

"Miss Dumbledore, please look this way!"

"—Mr. Potter, how long have you been—!"

"Dumbledore! A word?"

Mel stopped short at the voice, she turned around and people instinctively stepped back. Her eyes fixed on the blonde woman before her. She smiled, although the gesture wasn't quite reaching her gaze.

"Miss Skeeter."

"Miss Dumbledore," The woman pushed some people out of the way. It seemed that her book had given her the money she'd so sorely missed three years back. "The wizarding world is in awe of your work as Head Auror, would you please give us some words about the process you used to catch these despicable individuals?"

She felt Harry's presence behind her, he was taller than Mel by merely three inches, but whenever he was upset he would look way scarier than he actually was. The reporters discretely moved further away from them.

"Would love to," Mel pushed her shoulders back and adopted the almost-royal air she'd learned to display during Slughorn's parties. "But I want to be clear, Miss Skeeter. You say the world is in awe of my work, but they shouldn't. I'm as capable as any other Auror in my division. I admit it was Harry and I who caught the Carrows, however, it was a civilian who kindly decided to give us the much-needed information in order for us to find them."

"Outstanding!" Skeeter said with rehearsed excitement. "Can we know who this civilian is? I'm sure the wizards and witches of this country would like to thank the Head Auror's friend?"

Mel laughed, it was short and quiet, Harry felt a strange unease when he realized it sounded exactly like Albus Dumbledore's chuckle.

"I'm sorry, they wish to remain anonymous. As you know, Rita, I respect people's boundaries when they wish to keep something a secret."

Skeeter's smile did nothing but grow bigger, the woman wasn't done with her questioning.

"What's next on the list? What are you doing now that the last remains of You-Know-Who's army have finally been trapped?"

"Mr. Potter has a long sabbatical ahead," Mel looked at him and smiled. "He's been working on defeating Voldemort—" Several people gasped and jumped at the name, but she ignored them, "way before he was even hired as an Auror. I think you'll agree with me when I say he's earned this long-term vacation?"

There were sounds of agreement all around, Harry had a hard time not laughing.

"What about you, Miss Dumbledore?" A man asked.

"She'll be going too," Harry replied this time. "She won't admit it, but she's been working way more than me."

Before anyone could start asking nosy questions about their relationship, Harry guided her away from the crowd and into a lift, which suspiciously closed way too quickly for anyone but them to enter.

"So," He started, "I'm thinking France."

Mel laughed, this time it was her own laughter, the clear and melodic sound he loved.

"I'd like to visit Italy," She hummed. "But we shouldn't go away for long, Tonks will need us around once Remus is away, which will happen in three weeks. And you haven't forgotten about Umbridge, have you?" She raised a brow. "We must pay her a visit soon."

He hummed, a dark shadow past over his eyes, but it was only just a moment.

"How about," His arm wrapped around her waist, "we go to Italy first, we spend two long weeks there, just the two of us, and we come back to wish Remus and Hermione a good year?"

Mel contemplated it, she heard the woman's voice announcing they were on their floor and she moved away from his grasp.

"That's a good idea," She said. "We'll talk about it this weekend."

Harry hummed in agreement, they walked out of the lift, both looking bright and energetic.

Next Chapter —>

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[a-dorin]

"it's not a big deal"

pairing: professor!maul x fem!reader

word count: 2.022k

warnings: alcohol use, drinking, swearing, flirting, sexual harassment, slight age gap (no romance yet), sexual tension, mentions of student/professor relationship, 18+

a/n: i do not own the gif below! this takes place between ardor and tempestuous, which are chapters one and two. also i hope y'all enjoy how hot maul is in this like i did ;)

“how many times do i have to tell you this? professor kenobi is banging that hot political science professor. that blonde one.”

“nice word choice hardcase,” a platinum blonde snorts, bringing a cup to his lips, “i think you mean professor kenobi might be having sexual relations with professor satine.”

“isn’t she the pacifist or something?” another voice chirps, “a few of my friends have taken her classes. they’ve all said the same thing about her.”

“and that is?” the blonde arches a brow, his voice raised to a shout over the music.

“do we really have to talk about professors and class right now? shouldn’t we be celebrating our survival of the first week of classes?”

“and so she speaks!” hardcase bursts into a fit of laughter, taking another swig of his bottle, “sorry, you just hadn’t spoken in a while. i thought you went out to the dance floor or something.”

swiveling your head, your eyes dart over to the corner of the car, nose wrinkling in disgust at the sight of the mass of students, bodies pressed together, sweat plastering their bodies and clothes. why were some of them wearing jeans in august? surely they were overheated, the air muggy and thick. summer in coruscant was awful, even if the sun was well set.

the scent of alcohol and sweat hung in the air, almost clouding over your booth. shaking your head, your gaze falls on hardcase, his eyes glinting with the promise of more teasing, “i would rather not be included in the student body orgy.”

“everyone must be took drunk to care that they’re getting showered in sweat,” rex mutters, “tup, do you know what time coach buir said we had practice?”

“i think he mentioned something about weights at five,” a new voice remarks, flicking a water drop at hardcase, “that means if we leave now, we’ll all be getting about four and a half hours of sleep.”

“here we go,” hardcase lets out a dramatic sigh, rolling his eyes, “typical wolffe. always gotta ruin the fun.”

“i’m just trying to look out for your dumbass because i know you’re going to bitch about it tomorrow morning. i’d rather not run laps in the morning either for any tardiness. you know how much coach hates when we’re late,” wolffe growls, before taking a glance at his phone, “i don’t know about you guys, but i’m going to be responsible and head out now.”

beside you, rex mumbles a strand of curses under his breath, leaning his head against your shoulder, “sorry but i should probably head out too. the last thing i want is wolffe bitching and shit tomorrow. you know how he is, bein’ captain and all.”

closing your eyes, you exhale, gritting your teeth, “so you’re just going to leave me here?”

“i’ll leave my ringer on if you need me,” lips graze your temple, “hey, maybe you’ll run into that hot professor of yours. he can pick up a couple drinks for ya on his tab. i got the ones from earlier on mine. don’t worry about paying me back either.”

sliding out of the booth, you allow rex to make his way past you, “is this your ‘i’m sorry for leaving you behind on a packed night’?”

“perhaps,” the blonde shoots you a wink, patting his pocket, “again, if you need me, please don’t hesitate to call. i can come get you or pay for your uber. love you.’

“love you,” shifting your head upwards, you place a gentle kiss on rex’s cheek, “make it back safe. drink some water and take some tylenol. don’t want you feeling hungover in the morning.”

“i’m more worried about the ass-beating that’ll ensue when hardcase doesn’t show up on time,” a warm chuckle fills your ear, “see ya, bestie. make it home safe.”

“i will,” you take rex’s hand, squeezing it gently, “bye.”

“bye,” rex takes a step forward, waving a hasty goodbye before catching up with the rest of the boys, loud laughter rumbling amongst the group as they make their way towards the exit.

swallowing thickly, you slide back into the booth, fingers gripping the half-empty cup. of course they all had to leave, abandoning you on one of the busiest nights of the year. students of all ages, undergrad to grad, linger in groups, chatter filling the space as the song ended, leaving a pause before the next one started.

“you look lonely,” a voice, smooth and brassy, sounds to your right.

next to your table, stood a nautolan, drinks in hand. squeezing your cup, you blink, registering he was speaking to you, “oh -- um, uh, hi.”

“mind if i join you?”

“not at all,” you shake your head, “feel free to take a seat.”

“i’ve never seen you here before,” he states, flashing you a dazzling grin, “i’m nigel, a junior in bio. how about you?”

“oh,” you pause, biting your lower lip, “i’m just in health sciences. i’m a junior too.”

“a gorgeous girl like you doesn’t have a name?” carefully, nigel slides a cup towards you, “i talked to one bartender but another brought me my drink. somehow i ended up with two.”

cautiously, you accepted the drink, but didn’t take a sip, “thank you, but i’ve had my fair share tonight.”

which, you weren’t wrong. as you sat in the booth, you couldn’t help but feel this tingly feeling, as it rippled from your head to your toes. it was almost as if you weighed nothing, as if you were bouncy and light. a blissful sensation, really.

yet, there was this other feeling in your stomach, gnawing at you, threatening to consume you whole. the leather on the seat clung to your thighs, the temperature of the air elevating a few degrees as nigel’s eyes narrow into slits, his lips falling.

“come on, you don’t want a free drink?”

“like i said,” you clear your throat, “i’ve had my fair share tonight. i don’t want to feel it in the morning, ya know?”

“hm,” nigel hums, a hand darting across the table, finding yours, “could i interest you in something else, maybe? something like you come home with me instead, and i can offer you something other than drinks? we could have some fun, and then i could eat you for brea--”

“hey love,” suddenly, a hand falls on your shoulder, “i asked for what you wanted but they were out for the night.”

glancing upwards, your heart skips a beat at the person beside you.

warm amber eyes lock with yours, nearly glowing in the dim light, “i didn’t frighten you, did i?”

“hey,” nigel’s voice cuts in, “we’re having a conversation here, bud.”

his attention shifts, eyes hardening at the sight of the nautolan, “i was not aware that they hadn’t taken the trash out for the evening.”

“m-maul--” you begin, but you’re swiftly interrupted by his lips connecting with yours.

the kiss was brief, only a mere peck. yet, you couldn’t help but melt. his lips were soft, and gods were they so tantalizing as he pulls away, glowering over to nigel.

if only a moment could have lasted just a second longer.

“i believe you should have left the moment she expressed her disinterest in you. she can hold her own but gods you must be a fly or something. some sort of pest. leave her alone.”

nigel did not utter another word, exiting the booth promptly while you remained seated, cheeks burning hot, a fiery feeling in your chest. maul cleared his throat, lingering at your side.

“do you need someone to walk you home?”

“do you always kiss your students?”

there’s a brief exhale, the zabrak’s fingers finding your chin. he was more dressed than the last time you saw him, a light cotton tee clinging to his torso, the color complementing his tattoos. a pair of heather grey shorts hung on his hips, the cotton leaving nothing to the imagination. it helped him blend in, giving him a facade that he was just like you. a student stopping by the bar for some fun.

tilting your head upwards, you meet his gaze once more, finding it increasingly more difficult to maintain your composure as he leans in, chain nearly dangling in your face.

“i only kiss the ones who have my utmost attention.”

“how did you manage to slip in without people noticing? you’re pretty popular on campus, you know.”

“kallus lets me slip in through the back,” in the corner of your eye, there’s this shiny object.

quickly, you realize it’s a six-pack of bottles. beer bottles.

maul continues, his voice gravelly as his fingers remain on your chin, “this is the only bar in town who carries this kind of beer i like. now, is that a satisfactory explanation?”

“it’s good enough,” you’re surprised that he could hear the words your voice was so low, “you should leave.”

“not without getting you an uber first,” maul sets the six-pack on the table, pulling his phone out, “what’s your address?”

“i can make it home just fine,” you scoff, “just go already before we draw in any more unwanted attention.”

“i know you can make it home just fine,” you tense at the firm tone in his voice, “i just need to know you’ll get there safe. it’ll bring me some peace of mind. also, why are you here by yourself?”

“rex had to leave,” you mutter, fidgeting with your own phone, “just go, all right? it’s not a big deal.”

“all right,” the zabrak gives in, huffing, “i’ll see you in class on monday.”

“what if nigel recognizes you and reports you?” bringing a hand to your mouth, you feel horrible for even asking the question.

but, it needed to be said.

after all, your psychology professor conducted some very unprofessional behavior. not only in front of one student, but an entire bar full of them, no less.

“don’t worry about it,” maul places a tender hand on your shoulder, “if i do, it was worth it. i’m sure that prick was too intoxicated to even establish who i was. don’t worry about it too much, okay? i don’t want you losing sleep over your professor.”

“i lose sleep over your class anyways,” taking your cup, you finish off your drink from earlier, recoiling at the lukewarm taste.

grabbing his six-pack maul shoves his phone in his pocket, clearing his throat.

“be prepared to lose some more, love. you won’t sleep much when it comes to me. see you in class.”

“s-see you in class.”

as the zabrak slips into the crowd, weaving between all sorts of species and humans, the ambiance seems to crumble away, leaving you in the booth, mind reeling, wondering what the hell just happened.

maul, the professor from your psychology class, the one you saw at the gym, nearly half-naked, clobbering away at a punching bag, also happened to run into you at the bar, stepping in to prevent any more harassment from a very drunk nautolan. he kissed you. his lips were on yours, leaving you dazed and entranced, somehow craving more.

fingers brush your lips, and for a moment you forget that they’re your own, ghosting over the plush skin where his mouth once touched.

gods, this was only fuel to the fire, this attraction that left you yearning more and more.

yearning for him.

this wasn’t a big deal, was it? surely he would’ve done this for any other student? surely he wasn’t giving you some sort of special treatment. this was just some sort of fucked up incident. a fever dream, of sorts. gods, it sure fucking felt like one.

surely this wasn’t going to make things awkward in class. after all, you were going to see him bright and early within a matter of days. maybe he’d forget about it. maybe it was nothing.

this wasn’t a big deal. he said it wasn’t.

you were sure of one thing, though.

monday morning was going to be an interesting one, that was without a doubt.

☆☆☆☆☆

taglist: @maulieber @galacticdream @anakinswhore @zabrak-show @justalittlecloud @hounding-around @meshlamando @fandom-gal44 @xcertaindarkthingsx @maximumninjavoid @alwayshappysith @doobiwankenooku @javierpenaspinkshirt

[doctor-seitan]

The Last Year

I met a woman on this website over 8 years ago because we’re both vegan. We vaguely kept in touch over the years, but became closer friends back in 2019. Keeping up with each other more often.  Early 2021 comes around and we both admit to each other that we’ve been crushing on each other for years. We decide to give it a shot last year, mid April.

I fly out to see her in May. We hit it off immediately. No real awkwardness. Everything is wonderful. She gives the best kisses. I meet her teenage kid, and we also hit it off. We get along great. Into many of the same things.

We fall in love.

I fly out in August and stay for nearly the entire month. We get a feel for how it would be to live together, which we would later decide we were going to do. Figure it would have to either be in the fall or after winter. We ultimately chose after winter, since fall was too close to plan everything.

Since we land on an early April date for the move, we plan another visit for December. I stay a couple weeks and we share the holidays together.

A little back story on her. She suffers from past trauma and mental health struggles that I will not get into the details of here. Healing isn’t linear so things start to get worse for her.

She cancels the move. She’s no longer ready for it to happen like she thought. I feel pretty broken up about it, but I understand. It’s something we can plan later. We plan a trip where I’d fly out in April to celebrate her birthday, our one year anniversary, and her kid’s birthday in early May all in one.

I buy the plane tickets. I buy her anniversary gift. It’s a necklace that contains actual bits of moon rock within it.

Meanwhile she’s feeling worse and worse. Having anxiety putting on a front for the relationship. Even though she doesn’t have to hide any of it from me. She attempts a breakup, but we talk all night and decide to sleep on it. The next day, we said we will try to make it work. I’ll give her alone time and space more often so she has time alone to try to heal.

A few weeks goes by and she ends it for real this time. Same reasons. It hurts more than I can explain. There’s no one else. No one cheated. We never even had a single argument the entire time we dated. We were great together. A legitimate non toxic relationship. She feels like she’s not putting enough into the relationship and it’s not fair to me to have to deal with it, even though I say I can deal just fine.

This was five days ago now. We remain friends. Still watch our shows and a couple movies. But it’s hard. I’m having terrible intrusive thoughts and dreams about the breakup. Brining out some of my deepest insecurities. Even though it was literally nothing I did to cause it. Her either. 

I’ve also grown quite attached to her kid as well, so I’m not losing just one person here.

Anyway. I dunno why I wanted to write this out. I hope that some day when she gets the help she needs and feels better that we could come back to this. Like I said, it was a great relationship. I feel deep love for her. I’m just sad now. Trying to keep it together and not dump all this shit on her all the time too.

[kaunis-sielu]

What’s Next: 11

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Send in your vote by August 23

———————————————————————

You relent and wear the necklace and earrings but you make him swear he’ll take them back.

The cocktail hour and dinner go well, you’re really there on Steve’s arm but watching him schmooze with the clients, who own the jewelry store that your jewelry came from, is incredible.

You’re also surprised that you have a great time at the party. You’d have thought that it was going to be a stuffy affair but you end up trading numbers with the CEO’s wife, Sif, who comes to New York City often for her own job. Overall, it’s a truly wonderful weekend.

When you get back to the shop on Monday morning you still can’t quite believe the whole weekend even happened.

Bucky comes by on Wednesday, bright smile on his face and a bit more of his usual swagger.

“Hi Sugar.”

“Bucky, hey! I’m so sorry about this weekend.”

“Don’t be, it happens. I went and saw my sister and her husband. Found out I’m gonna be an Uncle.”

“Oh Bucky! That’s wonderful congratulations!” You tell him dropping an extra treat into the bag with his usual order “The treats are on me. One a sorry and the other a congratulations.”

“Sugar,”

“Nope. Do not fight me on this or I’ll make your whole order on the house.” You threaten lightly and he laughs then passes you some cash and you scan his barcode for his coffee membership on his phone. When you hand him back his cash he shoved the change in the donation jar and gives you a little smirk and a wink.

“Fine, fine. What do you say to making our date a weekend long one?” You stare at him for a moment, did he know? You shake your head to clear it then give him a wide smile.

“What are you thinking?”

“How do you feel about upstate?”

“I’ve only been once but I liked it.”

“My sister gave me the cabin for the weekend, apparently I work too much, if you want we could make it a weekend.”

“That sounds so nice. Your sister won’t mind?”

“Oh, Becca won’t be there. It’s just this thing she does twice a year she makes me leave the shop and just be away from shit for the weekend.”

“You’re sure I won’t be interrupting your you time?”

“Not at all Sugar.” He tells you with a smile, “sometimes I get so damn bored going alone. It’ll be nice to have someone with.”

“Okay, sounds fun.”

“Can you pack light? Like a backpack?”

“Probably, why?”

“I was planning on riding the bike up.”

“Oh yes.” You say and he laughs, “I’ll make sure I pack light. I don’t need anything fancy right?”

“Nah, some closed toed shoes, shorts, shirts, whatever you’re comfortable in.”

“Okay, when do you want to leave?”

“What time are you done on Friday?”

“Um, noon. I think. Unless we’re really busy and I need to help and can’t get our weekly order in.”

“Keep me in the loop?”

“Of course.” You tell him passing him his coffee. He shoots you a little wink and you laugh softly as he heads out the door.

The week flies by, you talk with Steve a bit, he asks if he can take you to lunch on Friday but you tell him you’re going to be busy, you’re going to have to make a decision sooner or later. You can’t keep dating two men, but they’re both so different and you’re so comfortable with both.

Friday is a normal Friday so you let Bucky know he can come and get you around noon. You have a backpack with all of your stuff in it leaning against your desk when Natasha comes wandering into your office.

“So, you’re going on another weekend getaway with a different guy.”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“Statement. Biker boy.”

“His name is Bucky.”

“What happened to the other hottie?”

“Nothing? I’m not exclusive with either of them.”

“Ooh, sexy.” She says with a wink and you roll your eyes.

“Can you keep it quiet though? I’m going to have to choose eventually and it’s gonna be hell.”

“Why do you have to choose?”

“I can’t date two men Nat.”

“Why not?”

“That’s called cheating and sounds like a good way to lose them both.”

“Or, you could be honest and tell them you have feelings for both. They might be okay with it.” You look at her skeptically and she laughs, “you never know.” She leans out your door then turns back to you, “I think he’s here.”

“Perfect thank you.” You say clicking submit on the order. You grab your bag then head out into the main part of the shop where Bucky is waiting.

“Hey Sugar. You ready?”

“I am.” You tell him with a smile and he grins down at you before holding out a hand for you. You follow him out to his bike and take the helmet that he offers you. Once it’s on and his is on he swings a leg over the bike, then you climb on behind him.

“Hold on nice and tight Sugar.” Bucky flirts before turning the bike on. It rumbles to life beneath you and when you scoot a little closer he revs the engine and you let out a surprised squeak.

Bucky eases the bike into traffic and you’re off. “Alright Sugar. Can you hear me?” He asks and you hear his voice in the helmet.

“I can hear you.”

“Good. You’re in charge. You need to take a break let me know. If you wanna just stop somewhere cuz it looks cool let me know. Okay?”

“Sounds good! How far of a drive?”

“Just shy of two and a half hours.” You get to ride behind the hottest biker you’ve ever seen for almost two and a half hours? Hell yes.

You regret everything about an hour and a half later, you’re starting to ache in your back and knees and you have to pee so when you see a building rolling up you hope it’s one with a bathroom.

“If there’s a bathroom here we can use can we stop?”

“Sure Sugar.” But when he pulls up its not exactly a store you’d stop at if you were alone. Bucky must sense your apprehension because he asks, “you wanna go somewhere else?”

So, what do you do? Find somewhere else or go in?

SEND IN YOUR VOTE BY ASK OR IT WILL NOT BE COUNTED

tag list:

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[holycow99]

石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 2

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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*Someone asked about Choujin X.

I: I’ve given the manuscript for chp 8. It’ll be released in a few days. I don’t really have much to say about this. I wanna write this month’s goals for Osushi. The big plan is to fix(?) chp 8. Then, I wanna release another two chapters this month. Chp 8 has 20 something pages. I want to at least draw the chapters in a weekly pace. What I mean by that is I wanna draw 72 pages per month. If I could draw 72 pages a month, I drew 18 pages per week during Weekly Young Jump too. So, I wanna draw 18 pages per week, which is 72 pages per month. That’s the amount of pages for weekly publication. It’d be nice if I could draw at least this much by myself. If I drew 25 pages weekly for three weeks, It’d have a total of 75 pages. I can currently get it done. If I updated 3 chapters a month, I’d have a total of 70-something pages per month. Then, nobody will complain. It’s not like anyone is complaining. It’s so that I won’t complain to myself. This is directed towards me as a challenge. Of course, it’s okay if I couldn’t do it. It doesn’t matter if I can or can’t, I thought it’s better to have a goal.

C: And the fact that you’re streaming right now is amazing!

I: Right? I spent a lot of time at the end of August doing rectifications, plotting, etc. They’re all important things to do. Since I have a little bit of free time, I thought of streaming.

C: It’s okay to draw the chapters slowly. Do you concern about maintaining the quality?

I: The quality is as usual. I mean, that’s one of the reason. It’s also to match the quality of the work. The drawing style in Choujin X is different, so of course the drawing will be different too. There are things that have changed. I want to match the vibe of the work, and also, I wanna prioritise speed over the quality. By speed, I don’t mean I wanna write them in a hurry. I want them to have a quality that’s easy to balance. I’m still playing around with it.

C: Until what chapters do you plan to release the physical copy?

I: I can just release it. I do have a plan for it, like releasing 2 volumes altogether.

C: I’m okay with anything as long as you don’t collapse later on.

I: You’re exactly right. I’m doing it with ease. So that the serialisation will go well, I’m adjusting my pace. This is just my ideal, but I wanna serialise another manga. It doesn’t have to be serialised, I have another stuff I wanna release. I’m finding the time to make one. If I make it a rule to do other things after I’ve done 75 pages per month, I don’t have to draw more. I could use the time to do other stuffs.

C: Don’t push yourself.

I: I’m not.

C: Are you overworking?

I: Not at all. I have many hands.

C: Did you play JJ?

I: I played the game like hell.

C: Is it easier to not have assisstants?

I: That’s a good question. This is kinda weird, people say that your work will progress more if you have more assistants, but that’s not the case. I did TG without knowing that. People will ask you to check on their works. So, the more the people, the more the workload. There’s probably an appropriate number of people you should have. 4 people would probably be enough during TG. But there were more people, like the helpers, but they did regularly help. It was quite a lot. I won’t be able to do my own work when there’s a lot of staffs. I don’t have assistants for choujin X so that I can do it with ease, and umm… It’s the fastest way for me. Of course, I do think the quality of the work will increase if there are staffs. I’m trying to see if I can speed up my work to a certain extent without having to check on others’ works and consider about other people, while creating the quality contents I’m capable of.

C: Working alone or with assistants finish faster?

I: It depends on the stuffs you’re making. For choujin x, I think it’d be hard for me to draw them if I had assistants. It’ll be great if we can have divisions.

C: Are you gonna hire a care assistant? (t/n: The Japanese word is Meshistant, which means assistant who mainly takes care of the mangaka’s meal, chore, etc. So, I just put it as care assistant.)

I: Definitely no. I didn’t let my assistants do the chore. I even cleaned the toilet myself. I kinda hate it. I hate the label they give to such people. Meshistant. I don’t like people who call them that. I don’t mean you. I probably won’t be fond of mangakas who use that word. They’re your staffs, right?

C: Do you think of the story all by yourself?  

I: Yeah. Sometimes I do get ideas from my surrounding. But, most of it came from mine.

(t/n: I’m not sure if the last sentence is correct. I couldn’t really understand what he meant, but it’s something like that.)

C: I’m having a hard time to sleep. Recommend ways for me to sleep well.

I: Probably read books. It can make your eyes feel tired. Then, maybe by not sleeping? But you might think it’s better to sleep. I understand. I wanna keep trying to fall asleep, but then I’ll watch movies while lying down. I have trouble sleeping lately. I used to sleep a lot.

C: Meshistant is also an honourable job.

I: Then, why not just hire people who specialised in that. Like housekeepers. They have that, right? Something like a home helper. That is better, isn’t it? Using assistants who’re enthusiastic to draw manga to do stuffs like that is awkward for me.

*Someone commented about hiring maid.

I: Maid? Then, I’d like that. Hahaha. Should I hire a maid? I’m recruiting maids.

C: Even at the age of 250,000, you still have trouble falling asleep.

I: Yeah.

C: Are they hired to make meals?

I: Yeah. There’s various types of assistant in the manga industry. This one refers to an assistant in charge of meals.

I: What did I wanna talk about? Oh yeah, about Animal Rap. I’m thinking whether or not I should upload animal rap video during stream, but where is the file? I’ve decided to upload it after this stream ends. What was it that I wanna talk about? Can you tell me about my current status, such as about the Sui exhibition in Osaka and Nagoya, or about Ms. Towada’s illustrations?

C: How about a live rap?

I: Good idea.

C: About the plan for 30,000 subscribers.

I: That’s right 2x. We’re talking about what to do to celebrate 30,000 subscribers.

C: I can be your maid for free.

I: I’ll definitely pay you. If it’s for free, then you won’t feel your sense of duty. I’ll give a huge salary and pressure you so that you’ll work responsibly.

C: Ms. Towada can both write novels and draw. Amazing!

I: I also can. Hahaha. I also…ah, but I can’t write novels. I won’t lose to her.

C: Do you have double eyelids.

I: Mine is hidden one.

C: Appear in First Take.

I: I won’t.

C: Are your eyelashes long?

I: Yes. My eyelashes are long, I have hidden double eyelids, I am of medium build…but I’m already worn-out.

(t/n: He used the word ‘boroboro’. I couldn’t really find the proper word to translate it in this context. Worn-out is the only one I could think of that suits the context.)

C: Are you handsome?

I: Well…I’m pretty good looking.

C: Have you been going to the gym?

I: No, I haven’t, since I was busy with work. I wanna go though.

C: I wanted to go to Mr. Kunimitsu’s concert.

I: Me too.

C: Which one is more handsome? You or Kaneki?

I: Wouldn’t that be Kaneki?

C: How about another stream with Ms. Towada?

I: I re-listened to the stream with Ms.Towada. For some reason, she was laughing a lot in the stream. Though she always like that. It’s slightly embarrassing. She’s acting like she’s at home. It felt like she’s disclosing my family situation, so it’s a bit..., but I can do that again from time to time. When I wanna do something related to JJ, then I’ll call her. That’s the most suitable content.

*Someone asked him to invite his younger sister.

I: It’s impossible to invite my younger sister.

*People wanted Goubaru to be the guest.

C: Goubaru, huh?

C: Do you have someone you wanna invite?

I: No, I don’t. The corona is one thing, but I’m completely okay with not meeting people. I do talk to people I’m close with. I think that’s already enough. It’s not like I have someone I’m involved with. I do usually talk to Mr. Kunimitsu.

*People want Hanae Natsuki again.

I: Hanae? That’s definitely impossible.

*He’s talking about Japanese youtubers.

C: Can you beat boxing?

I: I’m practising at the moment.

*Currently taking about Japanese artists.

* Someone asked who he thinks could be the next popular artist.

I: Lately, I only listen to instrumentals. The one that I like recently is the girl band called Chai. The group’s vocalists are twins. The group is great. It’s not like I like the band because there’s someone who caught my intention. I listened to their songs first before I decided whether I liked them or not. I thought this kind of voice also exists.

C: Congrats for TG’s 10th anniversary.

I: Thank you. Thank you to Brazil as well. (t/n: Someone commented Brazil.)

*He pinned his Chai comment.

C: People who just came don’t understand what’s going on.

I: It’s okay if you don’t. Hehe.

C: Sensei, can you eat choco mint?

I: I can.

C: I thought the bgm was from Animal Crossing.

I: This is Yorushika’s Escape.

*Still talking about Japanese artists.

C: Have you seen Midsummer?

I: Yes, I have.

(t/n: He said something about the new evangelion movies. But I couldn’t really translate that part properly. He basically watched the Rebuild Evangelion movies from the start since he never watched it before. He planned to go to Yamaguchi prefecture, the birthtown of Evangelion’s author to watch the last movie.)

Y****: I’m reading Toro Hedoro! I recommend it!

I: I do read that. Don’t underestimate me! I do read One Piece as well, but half-way through.

C: You can watch the Evangelion movie on Amazon Prime.

I: I wanna watch the final movie at the cinema. Has the final movie come out? It has? But I’m still gonna watch at the cinema.

C: Have you read Tokyo Ghoul?

I: Nope.

C: I recommend Tokyo Ghoul!

I: Is that so? I have a story regarding TG, but it’s probably gonna be quite deep.

C: One Piece has reached 100 volumes!

I: That guy and Odacchi have reached 100 volumes, right? Hahaha. That guy is Luffy, while Odacchi is Oda sensei. Hahaha. I can’t call him that. Odacchi is Oda sensei and Kishikage is Kishimoto sensei. I see, that guy has reached 100 volumes? Way to go! Hahaha! No one is watching this anyway. I’ll properly lick his boots if he’s in front of me, since he’s the real deal. I’ll be very obedient and sucking up to him.

(t/n: Ishida was using the word ‘aitsu’ to refer Eichiro Oda. As far as I know, it’s an impolite way of calling someone older or in higher status than you in Japan.)

C: He’s scarier than Hikakin (a Japanese youtuber.)

I: Right. We are in the same industry after all. But I think Young Jump and Jump are different subsidiaries. Although, Hara sensei seems to have met with Odacchi, so maybe there’ll be an opportunity for me to meet him. But probably no. Someone like me won’t be able to meet Eichiro Oda sensei. I won’t meet him. He seems like a unique person.

*Ishida talking about an illustrator and youtuber called Saito Naoki.

(t/n: I couldn’t translate the first half of this part because they’re talking about something that had happened, and I don’t know the context of it.)

I: The name ‘Saito Naoki’ is very nice. Is it a pen name? It totally sounds like a real name though.

C: Are you close with Kishida Mel? (t/n: Kishida Mel is an illustrator and a character designer.)

I: I’ve never met him, but Kiyoppi, Kiyohara Hiro sensei and Melcchi are good friends. He’s like a friend of my friend. You have things like that, right? 

C: The name ‘Ishida Sui’ is cool!

I: I seriously wanna change my pen name. I wanna change to something like Gengoro. I wanna change to a manlier name. I didn’t give a thought about my name before. I used that name because I thought I was gonna be famous in the future, so I didn’t wanna use my real name. I seriously thought that I couldn’t become a mangaka if my real name was exposed. I was like “Since I’m gonna be famous, let’s avoid using my real name.” I was being vigilant about it, so I half-heartedly named my pen name.

I: The name Gengoro is nice. Tagami Gengoro. Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro. The Tokyo Ghoul’s author, Tagami Gengoro’s exhibition is now open. I’d definitely sounds like a bearded fatty. With round glasses to top it off. Isn’t Tagami Gengoro a character from a gay manga?

*Ishida searching for Tagami Gengoro.

I: Everyone, don’t search for it. I’m scared something dirty will appear. Is it not? Oh, it isn’t. what’s the name again? There is a character named something Gengoro, right? It’s Tagame Gengoroh! I got it now! Tagame Gengorohw as born in 1964 and a Japanese mangaka. He calimed himself to be a ‘Gay Erotic Artist’. This is the one! It’s Tagame Gengoroh sensei. 

*Ishida was looking at Tagame Gengoroh sensei’s illustrations.

I: This one. Wow, this is indeed gay! Hahaha.

C: I can’t believe it came out of your mouth.

I: Surprisingly, I do talk about these kind of stuffs. (t/n: I mean, he’s the man who wrote a whole R-18 chapter.)

I: So, I can’t use the name Gengoro, since there’s someone with this name.

C: Is the name ‘Ishida Sui’ an anagram of your Surname?

I: Yes, it is.

C: Are you gay?

I: Hahaha! Even if that’s true, you didn’t have to ask that kind of question! Let’s just say that I’m okay with both.

C: Kuso Miso. (t/n: Kusomiso is a gay manga.)

I: Of course, I’d be reading them (probably referring to gay manga). I mean, manga like Kuso Miso Technique are popular, right?

C: Ishida GayGoro.

I: Hahaha. That’s just gay.

C: You’ve been to a gay bar before, right?

I: Not at all. When I was hanging out with the staffs, Goubaru said he wanted to go to a Okama bar while crying.

(t/n: According to the internet, Okama is a term referring to guys who adapted female characteristics.)

C: I think it’s completely normal to be gay nowadays.

I: We’re talking about gay now. It’s not normal in the first place. It’s just a sexual orientation. If you pick on every little thing, everything will become a problem. Those who deliberately say they’re not prejudiced against gays are actually are. Even if you tell that to people, they’ll probably filter what they wanna say. They’d be conscious of every single thing they say. Things like that don’t matter.

C: Sensei, let’s talk about something else.

I: Why? I’m okay with it.

C: I’m bi.

I: Does it matter? It’s okay.

C: It’s difficult to say something regarding gender issues, right?

I: Well…It’s difficult, since it’s concerning your mindset. It doesn’t only apply to gender issues; you can hurt someone by making careless remarks.  It’s just that you sometimes accidentally let out your opinions. I also think I sometimes make unnecessary remarks, so I might do that.

C: I want to be embraced by Masataka Kubota. (t/n: Masataka Kubota is a Japanese actor who played as Kaneki in the live-action.)

I: That’s right. Must be nice. I want us to embrace each other.

Part 3