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moonlight404-translates · 2 years

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A3! Izumida Azami | SSR - Mankai Encore | Translation

Note: There are notable differences in the character’s emotions from the original play in Act 7. If you have the card, I recommend to watch the backstage along with the translation.

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Disclaimer: Neither English nor Japanese is my native language, but I did my best with the translation. If you find any mistakes, feel free to tell me. By the way, Director’s name will be Izumi.

Encore: Abel / 1

Izumi: Finally, it’s the local performance’s opening day! Omi: Our makeup is on point too. Taichi: As expected of A-chan! Izumi: (Maybe it’s because he has polished his skills with different experiences that the makeup is more realistic than the one for the first run.) Azami: … Banri: Are you nervous? Azami: …No. Banri: Well, let’s just do it as we practiced. Juza: Yeah. Taichi: Let’s get pumped up! Banri: Then, leader, give us a word. Azami: Are we doing that again… Banri: Of course. Azami: … Azami: I’m gonna put on stage none other than the best. You guys make sure to follow me. Omi: Haha, a big shot, as always. Juza: No doubt. Banri: He is definitely like Sakyo-san. Sakyo: Shut up. Izumi: (They are relaxed as usual. Let’s make a great stage today as well!)

Izumi: (In a world where the human flesh eaters called undead have spread— The hunter Ivan meets Abel.) Ivan: “Ngh…” Abel: “...” Ivan: “--An undead?!” Ivan: “Damn it, so you’re today’s prize winner? If you leave me at room temperature for too long, I’ll rot and become unfit to eat.” Abel: “I don’t eat foul-tasting things like you.” Ivan: “...Heh. So I look like a foul-tasting one for you.” Abel: “Not only you. Everyone looks like that.” Ivan: “Isn’t that unhealthy for an undead? Or maybe you are some crazy gourmet.” Abel: “That doesn’t matter. More importantly, I want information about humans. Join forces with me.”

Izumi: (They start hunting undeads together and head toward the informant Doggie’s place.) Ivan: “Doggie, I got you a souvenir.” Doggie: “Thanks for your patronage. But I ain’t gonna give you a discount.” Ivan: “Tch. Stingy bastard.” Abel: “...Doggie?” Ivan: “I know it doesn’t go with him. He says it’s more like a back street dog. He was small and cute in the past, though.” Doggie: “Shut that mouth. I ain’t giving you any information.” Ivan: “He was always following me but falling with an about-to-cry face. Hard to believe, don’t ya think?” Azami: “...Heh.” Doggie: “I ain’t lying here. I have information, you don’t want it?”

Izumi: (The grief for Roy deepened their trust, and now they enter Red’s hideout.) Red: “What’s wrong with you; taking your food for a picnic? It seems handy, though. Guess I’ll do the same.” - Red hurts Ivan - Ivan: “Ug—h” Red: “You know if I stuff you in a box and freeze you, you’ll never rot.” Abel: “Don’t say those disgusting things.” Red: “But it’s important to preserve one’s food.” Ivan: “You bastard…!” - Red hits Ivan - Red: “You’re lively prey, huh?” Izumi: (Omi-kun has a good presence as the antagonist… It’s more polished and threatening than in the first run.)

Izumi: (Then they finally confront Abel’s father, Bill.) Bill: “Hah? What’s this? Something weird snuck up?” Abel: “Father…” Bill: “I welcome you. Hey, your food is here.” Undead dog: “Gwoof!” Ivan: “What are those— undead dogs?” Bill: “All you humans are noisy. We plan how to keep alive too.” Ivan: “Abel, step back!” - A metal sounds while Abel steps back - Bill: “What a shame. You’re a prey with brain.” Abel: “Haaah!” Bill: “---Ugh.” Izumi: “After Bill fell down, they noticed a chip in the back of his neck which reproduced Bill’s hologram—) Bill: “...To my most beloved wife Sasha and my son Abel.” Abel: “--” Bill: “I hope this message reaches you both without a problem…” Abel: “Father…?” Ivan: “Stay away from it. It could be another trap—” Bill: “I’m running out of time… If I stay like this, I will hurt you… which I can’t let happen by any means…” Abel: “Father, father—!” Bill: “...I’m sorry, Abel… I failed to protect you again…” Bill: “Even at that time… if we had been more careful… you wouldn’t have been involved in that accident… and you wouldn’t have that body…” Abel: “--” Bill: “Abel… Sasha, please… stay alive for me…” Abel: “Father–!” Abel: “Uwaaah!” Izumi: (Sakyo-san’s duality in the acting and Azami’s expressions are impressive. I think it has touched the audience’s feelings.) Audience C: —. Audience D: … Izumi: (I can hear sobs from the audience…)

Ivan: “What are you going to do now? Will you live like a human or an undead?” Abel: “...I’m Abel. The idiot Ivan’s partner, right?” Ivan: “That bit wasn’t necessary.” Abel: “If I live as a human, I won’t stop until I eradicate them.” Abel: “I’m going to live as Abel.” Ivan: “Then there’s one last thing to do.” Undead A: G-Gaah…!” Undead B: “Let me eat you!” Ivan and Abel: “—Kill them all.”

Azami: …Thank you. Autumn Troupe: Thank you!

Encore: Abel / 2

Izumi: Good work, everyone! I’m glad the performance was highly well-received. Banri: Then, let’s conclude with this right away. Taichi: So awesome! Everything looks good~! Juza: …There are many desserts too. Sakyo: And a plenty variety of alcohol. Taichi: The champon is a must to try, right?! Also, the lemon steak~ and the hamburger, and~... Omi: The Turkish rice looks tasty as well. Izumi: Can you finish all that…? Banri: Yeah, easy to do. Azami: Oh, they have shishito pepper skewers. Omi: So Azami is of those who prefer his favorite food rather than the local plates. Juza: The cheesecake… looks good. Banri: Really? Sweets, again? Taichi: I’m curious about the milkshake dessert! Sakyo: …Geez, how much will you order. Omi: Let them be, Sakyo-san. It’s for our local performance.

Izumi: The lemon steak is refreshing and tasty! Taichi: The hamburger is fantastic, too~! Banri: You have sauce in your mouth. Omi: Sakyo-san, would you like another glass? Sakyo: Yes, please. Juza: Can I order the desserts? Azami: It’s too early for that. Omi: The sara udon is delicious too. The crispy noodles go well with the ankake. Izumi: If there is a way to pack them, I would like to buy them for everyone in the dorms! Azami: We’re taking the flight back tomorrow night, right? Omi: We have some free time until then. Izumi: Ah, you’re right, but there is something else… Taichi: Yeah, hear me out! I planned our day for tomorrow! I wanted to do sightseeing with everyone while being here! Izumi: Taichi-kun made many reservations for it. Omi: Heh. I’m looking forward to it. Sakyo: …I thought it wasn’t a group activity. Juza: Where are we going then? Taichi: A dream place for boys! Azami: What’s that? Banri: Director-chan knows where are we going, right? Izumi: Yep! I’m pretty excited about it. Sakyo: Well, we’ll know about it tomorrow. Taichi: Hehe. Please, look forward to it! Sakyo: Geez, you guys have to grow up already. All you do is talk about hanging out… Sakyo: You won’t be kids forever. So to become fine adults… yadda, yadda… Omi: Sakyo-san drank a lot of alcohol. Taichi: I’m having a déjà vu! Azami: Drink in silence, you drunk man.

Encore: Abel / 3

Azami: … Banri: What made you lost in thought? Azami: – Banri: That overprotective old man will make a fuss for you being here so late at night, you know. Azami: I don’t care… I wanted a change of pace. Why are you here, Banri-san? Banri: I came for the same as you. Azami: Hmm… Banri: How was it to play your character again? Azami: Guess it felt… a bit weird. I didn’t think we would do this performance again back then. Azami: But I knew I wanted to do a better acting than the one at that time. Banri: Well, that’s because it was your debut performance after joining the troupe. Banri: You’re still lacking in some parts, but part of you has grown and gained experience, don’t you think? Azami: Yeah. I guess. Banri: However, you’re also totally into acting now. Azami: …Sure, whatever. Banri: Oh, and you were rebellious against Sakyo-san at first. Azami: Shut up. Banri: Trashing that old man was my move in comparison to yours. Banri: I also picked on Hyodo at first, so I can’t really speak for others. Azami: But now you’re none other than an acting fool. Banri: I can’t beat some guys from our troupe in that, like Tasuku. Azami: No one is a match for him. Banri: Ah, right. We went to the Zombie Run Night around the first performance. Azami: Yeah… I can’t forget shitty Sakyo’s face when we cornered. Banri: Only that? Azami: I also had fun making your makeup, Banri-san. Banri: Your makeup skills have grown up compared to that time. Azami: Well, they’ve entrusted me with it many times. Azami: I’ll improve myself in makeup, but also in acting. I ain’t gonna lose to Banri-san at it. Banri: Oh, I wanna see you try.

Taichi: A ghost town is similar to the undead performance world-setting! And boys like those things! Izumi: Wow… it’s impressive to see it in person! Taichi: I know it’s so cool! It’s a famous recording location for movies! Omi: Good thing I brought my camera. Juza: …Amazing. Banri: Heh. So it was this kind of place. Azami: It’s my first time coming. Sakyo: A decent location coming from Nanao. Taichi: What do you mean by that?! Banri: Yawn… Azami: …So sleepy. Izumi: Did you two not sleep well? Banri: …Guess that’s it. Azami: Just a bit. Sakyo: This happens for not going to sleep right away. Azami: Our body is built differently from yours, “early to bed and early to rise” old man. Sakyo: Hah? Izumi: Anyways, this looks extraordinary. Taichi: A zombie could pop up and wouldn’t be weird in this atmosphere! Juza: It reminds me of the Zombie Run Night. Izumi: I agree, but don’t start running here…! Azami: …These buildings are amazing. - camera sound - Azami: – (surprised) Omi: You looked pretty good there, Azami. Banri: Like out of a movie scene. Azami: D-Don’t take pictures without asking. Omi: Since we are in this tourist attraction, I have to take pictures of everyone. Taichi: Omi-kun, I want to take some too! Omi: Sure. Let’s take a commemorative photo later. Izumi: Yeah, I want to take a group photo! Sakyo: Well, it doesn’t hurt once in a while. Banri: No choice then. Juza: Yeah. Azami: A group photo in a ghost town will leave a deep impression… Azami: Well, whatever.

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Notes: The milkshake mentioned (食べるミルクセーキ) is a type of milkshake that you can eat more than drink. It’s specialty of the place they’re visiting, Nagasaki.

#a3! translation #azami izumida #a3!#a3! azami #a3! backstage story #a3! MK encore card set

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virtue-and-beneviolence · 1 year

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Can you match your mutuals with CSM characters and troupes? Pretty please 🥺

Thanks for the game <3 !!! I wanna apologize upfront bc this is a very very short one. I don't remember CSM super well apparently so i apologize for how few of yall are included here. This was what I could manage after tumblr fucked up my draft and if i dont post it tonight it'll rot in my drafts forever. Idk man send me a part two and ask for a different set and we'll see what we can do (probably reusing characters tho)

@feitania and Kishibe - roommates

Kishibe doesn't need a roommate and he reminds you of that at least 12 times a week but he wouldn't dream of having you leave. He's so much more sentimental than it seems. Who would've thought that stone cold bastard had such a big soft heart? He lets you decorate any room you like for the most part and he'd be lying if he said he didn't appreciate the warmth that comes with another life in his home. You two don't need to fill all the space with chatter but after a while, you do get him to open up a bit and you learn a lot from the man's life. He learns a lot about yours too. Idk, it's just the right amount of cozy.

@the-travelling-witch X Aki - cafe au

Baker!Aki is dying for your attention after the fist time you visit his shop. It was dead on a weekday afternoon. He gave you a deal on some cookies, insisting it was the end of the day, that they'd go to waste. Since then he's tried to catch your eye and your fancy through some new desserts, pastel macarons, and cute little pastries, and delicate fruit tarts. He listens to you talk when you bring some friends to study there. He's not trying to be weird, but he hears you're not from Japan and starts making German treats he think maybe a taste of home could be nice or well he's ... he's trying okay? He thanks the gods the day you ask him why the menu always changes because you finally give him your number with a promise to teach him how to make some real bread.

@sleepy3 and Beam - childhood best friends

Yall have been inseparable for the last two decades. You spent your youth together. You shared nearly all your elementary and middle school classes together and and never struggled to make time for one another. You're the only one who can calm Beam down, you're his favorite cuddle buddy, annnnd the only reason he probably graduated because got he's adorable and all but his attention span is not it! For his part, he gives you energy and hypes you up all the time. He even hypes you up for that date he doesn't particularly like that you're going on tonight because he doesn't think the guy is good enough for you. But he's still gonna help you pick an outfit and tell you how great you look because he's honest and he cares about you and well, he trusts you to make smart decisions.

@drakenlvr X violence fiend - fake dating

He doesn't seem all that interesting at first and I don't blame you. There's not much to talk about since you finished that one project together. You know, the one you two did all the work for while your asshat classmates sat with their thumbs in their asses? All you really knew about galgali was that he was maybe a bit of a pushover sometimes but he was definitely nice. When he came up to you in the dining hall and asked for you to go to a work event with him as his partner just once god i know its weird but please- you figured, fuck it. There are worse ways to spend a Friday evening than hanging around an acquaintance and getting free food and drinks. Turns out he has a crazy history, a crazier job, and a shockingly cute streak.

@violettierre x Power - enemies to friends to business owners lmao

Look I'm not gonna get into the gory details about that relationship you just got out of, okay? It was messy and not at all your fault, but isn't it crazy how all it took was a mutual enemy (the ex in question) to become thicker than thieves with Power? I can just see you and Power skipping down the street and dancing and being chaotic. Plus there's just nothing like it when Power is soft for you. Y'all end up roommates and maybe go in halfsies on a cat cafe for the broken hearted to find their new halves.

#im so sorry friends #more of you should be here #i will try harder next time #maybe i'll give these guys a break and appreciate some more moots #idk im a mess lmao #someone tell me to eat dinnner #or something #hush virtue #but really anon if you're a moot and you;re not here ill cry send another and iwill do it again

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celestialmango · 2 years

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If flower Moon is around finally after months of being gone how would he handle reader showing up or being around Sun? Assuming the two becomes friends and reader decides to stay after a while. I also like to think that reader would gush at how pretty Moon is as a flower. Cause I can't imagine him not being pretty as a flower, same goes for Sun.

Well he's most likely to come to during another "chew toy situation" see this random unamused looking peasant dangling upsidedown from Sun's mouth as Sun chews on them slowly pulling them in before letting them slip out to just above their knees and doing the action again as this human just stares at him. He would stare back, Sun unaware that Moon is finally awake but clearly enjoying himself with his eyes closed till Moon goes "Sun what are you doing?" Which surprises Sun enough that he drops them, human yelping at the sudden fall but Sun lunges down fast enough to grab them in his mouth and stuff them all the way in with a vine before swallowing all out of instinct.

Cors reader isn't going into his stomach but he's going to be like "Uhhhhhh, nothing." Because he's panicking. Moon will not be amused because from his perspective Sun caught a traveler, someone might be looking for that traveler which means adventurers are going to come to try and rescue them. "It looks like you kidnapped someone to use as a chew toy" "I didn't kidnap them!" "You're not denying the chew toy part."

"You were gone and I got lonely" "Sun adventurers are going to come for them" "no they're not." "How are you sure" it's because reader owns the part of the jungle the pair live and move around in now from because they rigged a bet after finding out why Sun nabbed them. They wagered they could get a bunch of danger monster parts without a weapon despite being a peasant with the king who had a gambling weakness and decided to humor them. They told Sun about the bet and had Sun help them.

They them proceeded to make it private property and any adventurer who try to hunt on their land or enter without permission would pay an extreme fine or be stripped of their weapons and "be turned into plant food" by their "Tamed monsters" and if they happened to slay those "tamed monsters" they would have to pay what the monsters were worth.

They even registered what said monsters were now slaying and harvesting Moon or Sun and selling their parts is theft and damage of property. I.e. against the law of the kingdom so those adventurers would be banished and that's just not worth it. Sun however would proceed to tell him though.

"it's because they own us now." "what." "And I helped them gain ownership of us" "YOU WHAT?!" "It's okay Moony, slaying and harvesting us is against human rules now, anyone who doesn't listen becomes broke, not allowed to live here or anywhere here or near here and rule breakers get eaten." "So the human is a rule breakers?" "No, they just let me chew on them when I'm stressed." "Then why did you eat them." "I accidentally dropped them and panicking, they're fine." "How could they be-.........you didn't....." Sun looks nervous. "I might have swallowed them into...um....the part of me that concentrates the nectar that gets put into my berries?"

(for you it's basically like you're sitting in a thick honey like liquid that though sticky is very good for your skin but you also don't know being there is affecting your to match Sun's health so if he gets really hurt, you'll get sick, if he goes down you go into a sort of hibernation state, it's like being a lich without the rotting or actually knowing you're a lich. You basically got eternal life and youth without knowing it. People are gonna start thinking you're a powerful magic user and definitely not come onto your land in fear of pissing you, you sell other monsters bits you don't use for money and Sun keeps giving you berries that are really fucking good.)

"so they're basically our landlord that's letting us live here for basically free" "Sorta? I pay them in berries to let me chew on them." (They're really good berries and addictive) " alright I'm interested, think you could let me in on that deal?" "How would you even pay them?" "A good nights sleep."(best sleep ever) so yeah, flower Moon isn't really a gremlin Moon.

#mango answers

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112-darling · 2 years

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For @slimeballhere

Prt 2 of a ask

112 walked into a dark alleyway holding her bloodied wings. Not from anything any physical being can do. But from the most dangerous thing to a being like her. Her own mind.

She fell to her knees scratching her arms. “Damned fucking attachments only kill you.” She growled feeling the lumps in her arm and tore them out. More blood escaping her. “Heya friend.” She snapped her head up looking at a tall fellow. Bright pink hair and a crazed look in his eye.

“If you’re going to hold me for ransom nobody wants me. Nobody can find me. I’m all alone. So kill me now.” She snapped holding her arm. The sound of a gun being put away hit her ears. “Oh that’s no fun! Looks like you have a bad scratch. Let’s get you fixed up! I’m [redacted] but you can call me whatever you want! You’re 112 right? Bad Omen?” He slung an arm around her good shoulder she she nodded. She leaned on him.

“I don’t get why you’re dragging out my death. Just leave me here to rot.” Her eyes swelled up with tears. “Oh hon! Crying won’t do! Healers!!” He called as she looked up suddenly in a bright colorful wonderland like place. A bright nurse appeared and suddenly grabbed her and dragged her away.

The fellow followed on a cane, shaped like giant sucker. “Now C’mon now tell me what happened!” He sat on a chair of the pastel Nurses office. She rolled her eyes. “If it gets you to leave me alone fine. My attachments got me here. My Family. My close ones Pushed me away when I wanted to get close. I got emotional and that’s weak. So I left. I shouldn’t have gotten attached in the first place.” She growled as the nurse carefully bandaged her arm and wings.

“And what did you tear out of your arm?” He grinned his mustache perking up with his smile. “Why should I tell you? I don’t know maybe you’ll go back and use it to kill me. Or mind control me or whatever you fuckers get off on.” She snapped as she scoot away. “I’m bandaged I can go back now.” She curled into a ball. “How about you stay? Until you can fly again. How free is a finally uncared for bird to be let out only to have broken wings?” The nurse nodded and she appeared in a soft room. No bed, but a giant pile of stuffed animals.

“How-?” She looked around only to be alone. She looked at the plushies. Slowly picking up MooMoo. She hugged the brown cow tightly. Finally allowing herself to cry. She crossed her legs. Getting up, legs healed from the fucked up land into the alleyway. She looked into the drawer and tore off her old uniform and put on a large pink shirt and purple shorts.

She smiled softly at the light colors. She walked around letting out a breath of relief. Maybe a few weeks of stealing this guy’s food and resources. Then maybe she’ll leave.

Meanwhile the base was being torn up. By henchmen, Yancy, Bing, and Chandler. Chandler broke down the door to her room as it was suddenly locked. Yancy followed inside it was practically empty. Chandler only found the two plushies They gave her. And a note. “Thanks for the freebie Darkie! You can have these two though. They’ll only upset her. :( -The Pink Man.” Chandler read aloud. Staring at the soft plushies.

Dark walked inside grabbing the note as Chandler fell to their knees. “I was too harsh wasn’t I? I-“ Yancy just walked out. “Youse can sit and mope. I am gonna do sum unlike you who’s just gone and yells at her sum more.” He walked out and there was a sound of a motorcycle outside.

Back with the bird brain,

She looked around. Finally being able to see color outside of battle. She shyly looked around, claws tapping the ground in case of traps. The fellow only walked past her calmly. “What? Do you think I’d waste my time to save you only to hurt you?” He chuckled as she blushed and trotted next to him. “Sorry- it was a thing me and my old gang did together. I couldn’t come up with clever traps but I did trick them! But they’d mostly trap me in nets. Mostly the henchmen though.” She jumped at the sight of so many colorful people.

“Really? My friends don’t dare trap anyone I know and talk too! Your friends with an old pal of mine yes?” She looked up anxiously. “Oh it’s fine dear. I’m not mad! You responded perfectly.” He smiled patting her hair. She paused. “Really?” “Of course! I would too finding out my friends would rather hang out with others than myself! Why I’d shoot them!” She looked frightened. “But I won’t shoot your friends! At least until they make me!” He smiled brightly walking off as she paused.

Her tail swayed, settling on the ground and dragging behind her. She sat on the stair balcony staring down at the cheery workers the only guess of these not being a hero. Is the ominous sight of heads on stakes just by the entrance and someone would have called her omen by now if so.

She sighed. Looking from side to side and opening up her wings as wide as they go. After getting the bandage off unnaturally fast, all feathers have been returned and cleaner then ever!

She got up and walked around exploring finding a kitchen. She looked inside and looked around and grinned walking inside. She grabbed a bag of chips and turned and face hit a chest. “Oh! Hi!” The fellow grinned helping her up. She looked at the chips and looked down. “Sorry. I- I forgot I wasn’t at home-“ “you silly goose! This is your home now! Take whatever you want! Just promise to stay with me.” He held out his pinky as She smiled eyes flashing pink. “Promise!” She hooked her pinky around his and ran off smiling.

She sat down smiling kicking her legs on the balcony. She got up and walked up to the elevator and pressed the roof floor button. Waiting as the others inside slowly got off on their own floor. She stepped out standing on the edge of the building. And swung her legs on the edge.

“112?” She flipped around standing up. “What do you want?” “For you to be back home.” Chandler said, hair messy and mask on the side. “So you can leave again? I’m sure there’s gonna be some better copy of me sooner or later. That lets you do whatever you want. I’m tired dude. I finally found someone who doesn’t LEAVE!” She growled “someone who doesn’t yell at me for doing my job.” She got up. “Thanks. But no thanks.” She walked past to the elevator but a hand grabbed her arm. A loud growl erupted as the door opened, fluffy pink hair and bright pink eyes.

Her bones went loose as her eyes turned pink. She tore her arm out of Chandler’s grasp with hidden strength and stood behind him. “112. Don’t do this.” They called, she turned and walked into the elevator eyes still bright pink. “She made a promise!” He cheered in a sing Songy voice. “Give. Her. Back. Y- you bright pink bastard.” Chandler growled.

“That’s no way to treat a friend! C’mon now! You can be happy too! I’m sure she’ll forgive you if you join us!” He smiled. “Get off me. You aren’t going to use her for your sick jokes Wilford.” Chandler yelled. Eyes watering behind the mask.

“Oh. But it’s too late. She promised. Pinky swore actually! I could ask her to kill you on the spot. She wouldn’t have a second guess! She came to my part of the city. Bruised, scarred, and bloody.” He walked around Chandler. “She wanted me to kill her, not even a second thought, she thought you didn’t care anymore. She knew that if she even thought of being around you. She’d be punished. That’s not a way to treat friends Chandler.” He hummed stopping.

“So what’s stopping me from putting the same fear into you that your little gang put into her?” He hummed as a gravely voice appeared behind them both. “Darkie!! Perfect timing! Honestly impeccable!” He cheered as 112 returned suddenly holding a bright pink gun. “Wanna see my new trick!”

“Wilford. Don’t you dare.” Dark hissed as Chandler froze in fear. “Oh I won’t hurt her. But she can hurt you.!! But that won’t be any fun would it?” He looked at her with a grin. Her eyes still pink as she shook her head no.

“She gets it! But I need her still. Hmm!” He walked backwards grabbing the pink gun. Putting it to his chin thinking. “I mean what do you have to offer for her? She’s got potential, and she’s terrified of going back.” He snapped as her eyes faded back to their blue as she shook her head.

“Go on hon.” She looked at Dark and Chandler. Her voice caught in her throat as she backed up. “I- I.” “112 come back. He can’t help you. He’ll only hurt you.” Dark took a step forward and she stepped back. “H-he helped me though. He gave me food, and clothes. And didn’t make me work, he didn’t leave. H-he protected me when I was hurt.” She looked down Wilford only slinked over.

“It’s okay! How about you go rest and Ol’ Wilfy will deal with it!” She nodded wings opening as she dove down off the building.

“An alliance.” Dark said calmly. “We work together. So 112 can choose who to stay with. We combine powers. So she can have the best.” Chandler nodded “yeah. So she can be happy. Like you want. Without mind control!” Wilford hummed. “Sounds interesting. Sure sure. But.” He pointed the gun at the two. “But?” Chandler took a step forward. “You have to allow me everywhere she’s allowed to be. And I can come into your base at anytime. Vice Versa.” He grinned holding out his hand.

Dark stepped forward shaking it fermly. “Fine. But you have to let her free from her mind control.” “Finnne! Whatever!” He pouted snapping.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ wahoo

Path 2

Feathers grew on her arms and face, her wings growling larger and larger, covering her body til a large colorful bipedal Parrot like dragon appeared. Eyes still pink, but dulled as her eyes glossed over. Her teeth were sharper then normal and Wilford was well known for being on the news.

Helicopters surrounded the building. “112, Hm no. . . What about something more fun! What do you think?” Wilford looked at Chandler. “Bad Omen isn’t my style either. What about Ms.Color? Or maybe ColorBrain?” Wilford grinned as 112 sat down tail curling around the box he sat on.

“Wilford please.” Chandler called taking a step forward. Only met with snapping jaws and a low growl. “Well that’s not fair! You tossed her out for even trying to get close to you! Now she’s happy you want her back?” He tilted his head scratching his forehead with the gun.

“You know she isn’t happy, trapped in a beast you only want for power. She’s terrified of being that thing.” Dark spat glaring at Wilford. “How do you know? She’s happy finally having able to serve someone who doesn’t leave all the time. Especially with that stunt you pulled Darkie!”

Chandler’s eyes widened. “We wanted to protect her!” She melted back standing next to Wilford. Eyes back to the friendly green. But instead of her black irises, it was pink swirls. “You think, leaving and getting caught on purpose. Is protecting me? You think leaving me alone. In the dark. With people who HATE me. Is PROTECTING ME?! I was TERRIFIED! I thought they KILLED YOU.” She yelled tears flooding her eyes.

“I- I- I wanted you safe. And I’ve only brought down the team? Don’t think I don’t hear the echos of your meetings from henchmen. You’re just waiting to give me away?” She backed up wings tight around her. “112 you know that’s not true. We would never give you away.” Dark said matter of factly. “I- I don’t believe you. First my own brother. Now you? I can’t do this anymore.” She snapped her fingers turning into claws and starting to stab at her palms.

“Why are you so desperate to leave me?” She asked eyes watering. Chandler looked into her eyes “I don’t. If you let me explain.” “You had your chance Chandler! You had your chance the first time. And the second. And third. And the-“ he stopped looking between them before holding up his pinky.

“Darkie! Tell me how my powers work again? I may have forgotten?” He grinned darkly. “Whoever hooks pinkies with you and promises something. They have to go through with the promise.” He growled. “You didn’t.” Wilford laughed. “I did!!” 112 sat on the crate next to Wilford. But on her feet crouched.

She blinked slowly a few times. Wilford only rubbed her back with a charming smile. “She can’t leave. Even if she wanted too,! She made a promise! 112 can you deal with our guests? Don’t kill them per-say. And just forget whatever they did to you back then. You’re with us now.” He smiled sliding off the crate and walking into the the elevator.

“112 snap out of it!” Chandler called as she slid off the crate. “You two need to leave. He doesn’t want you here anymore.” She replied standing upright. “112 you don’t have to listen to him. You can break his curse.” Dark started splitting, with the two sides of him stressed on what was going to happen.

Her eyes turned pink again and suddenly lunged. Neither knew at who before the void struck her to the nearest wall. A pained growl escaped her. “112!” Chandler yelled running to the wall as Dark tried to make a portal.

Chandler tried to get close to her before a clawed hand swiped at their mask making a claw mark. Voices from the reporters hummed over making an ambiance. Dark grabbed Chandler and rushed into the portal accidentally leading 112 through. The door silently creaked open as 112 snarled and backed up. Eyes darting around the room.

“112 see? Your home you’re here.” Chandler moved closer to her slowly like a feral animal. Before she could strike again arms caught her midair.

One tatted arm holding her mouth shut and the other keeping her arms from going anywhere. “Yancy! Stop you don’t have anything to protect yourself!” Dark yelled as he kneeled making hushed noises hand over her mouth grabbing a cloth and held it to her mouth careful of her nose and held her head to his chest and covered her other ear.

She froze, eyes meeting his as her breathe evened out. “112 youses safe. Theys won’t hurt yous no more okay? Yous safe i’m safe. We safe. Okay?” She nodded slowly as she spat out the cloth. Eyes melting back to her regular eyes. “What the hell?!” She laughed pushing off Yancy who chuckled. “Guessin we gon be dealin with that pink head?” Chandler nodded with a sigh.

“Oi JackFuck!! Your hand tastes like shit!” She barked with fake anger. Before yawning. “Howz you gonna be angry when yous yawn like a baby cat?” He chuckled as she growled. “I don’t!! Fucker!” She yelled walking to the couch.

“Who’s talking to the henchmen?” Dark hummed as Chandler grabbed a baseball bat. “Me.”

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skinni-girls-eat-books · 4 months

Text

Monday, January 8th, 2024!

11:32am HCI class this morning, really boring still I regret to inform everyone 😂 no tests this semester, just projects. Easy A but a real brain drain. Not letting the brain drain get to me though! Hopped out of that class (9-11am) and now I'm at Panera getting free coffee (it's chilly out!). I'm going to shoe carnival to use a $15 voucher and also other little errands today. I just realized I'm really hungry (I had 2 prebiotic sodas last night and absolutely BLEW UP this morning so I actually don't think there's anything in my stomach tbh haha). I think I should get a snack bc my stomach will pass start hurting soon. Just checking in! New semesters can be overwhelming so I'm gonna keep coming back here.

11:49am have selected bogo bacon mcdoubles for lunch with my coffee :) eating food is good for you! I am very thankful ❤️

2:34pm lol I went down a rabbit hole and I'm about to be off my phone for the rest of the day. But it's worth it bc I looked on Vividseats and found a $20 after tax ticket to see Company at the Straz tmrw. I have heard of this musical before but didn't know what it was or any of the songs. Omg I didn't the last 1.5 hrs listening to the original Broadway cast recording in my car and investigating the plot and I am very excited!! This is EXACTLY what I'm talking about I had no idea that's what I was going to do today and definitely had no idea I was going to see a Broadway show tomorrow night when I freaking woke up this morning, how do I explain to people that this literally is my hobby. Novelty and new experiences is my hobby. Learning about things is my hobby. Listening to new music is my hobby. Reading about how they are being hot and *controversial* about the gender swap in this revival of a 50+ year old play?? I find this fascinating and I am excited AF now about something I couldn't tell you one lick about this morning. This is my favorite thing to do. This is such a perfect example of my idea of a good time.

Do other people never do things like this?? It's spontaneous, but not expensive or dangerous or retarded, it's just spontaneous and interesting to me personally.

4:05pm I actually went to shoe carnival and used the coupon in their email and got a pair of yellow box sandals for $7 even! Just got home, ate a granola bar and am about to take a nap.

11:45pm I want to text him. I'm ALSO FIVE DRINKS IN LMAO. OFC I wish I had a man to fuck rn. I GOT MYSELF DINNER AND DRINKS!!!! NOW it feels like I've been wined and dined and primed to FUCK. But it's literally just me.... I wined and dined myself bc it's the first day of school, things are stressful and they're bound to be more stressful going forward. I wanted to treat myself before I get depressed AF. Is there another man/ woman here?? Fuck NO. I got ME, MYSELF and I BITCH. Dinner was a delicious pizza from king state and a cocktail and 4 shots while I watched "Hair" so yeah ofc I'm COMFORTABLE AND TURNED ON THAT'S LITERALLY ALL IT FUCKING TAKES I'M NOT DIFFICULT BY ANY FUCKING MEANS. one day there will be a man that understands, but until then it's just me, I got me, I know me better than anyone else. All the men I've met are JUST A DELUSION IN MY MIND BRO I KNOW WHAT I WANT AND I *CLEARLY* HAVE NOT MET HIM YET and that's ok,bc ..... I got ME.

Hopefully this rant has dissuaded me from texting him bc wtf he's SO FUCKED UP EVEN IF HE ACTUALLY CARED ABOUT ME HE'S UNABLE TO FUCKING DO SHIT ABOUT IT. HE'S A BUM ASS BITCH AND CAN'T MEET YOUR STANDARDS!!!!!!! YOU MEET YOUR STANDARDS WHERE YOU ARE EVERY DAMN DAY. HE FUCKED UP AND YOU DON'T HAVE TO THINK ABOUT HIM ANYMORE. LITERALLY LET HIM ROT ONG BC HIS DUMBASS PICKED A LIL BITCH OVER YOU (A STRONG ASS HO WHO DOESN'T TOLERATE BULLSHIT!!!!!). THE END OMG.

1:34am why TF am I still awake ooooorhhg I am killing myself fr.

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ajockeynamedpod · 2 years

Text

time to vent into the aether I guess

i am so tired of my useless cunt of a life. 33 years of FUCKING NOTHING. I’m sick of this. i don’t feel respected, anyone even remotely local blows me the fuck off. no one makes plans with me anymore. I’m a dog in a cage waiting for someone to come play with it and no one will. or they hang out with someone who actively adores my abuser/assaulter. that feels great.

The friends that live near me aren’t even always busy. I’ve told them many times “hey if you have free time lmk I’m always down to hang!!” And they say “oh yeah sure! It’s been awhile!” And then they constantly make posts about being bored on their days off with nothing to do. like…. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I’m nothing. if I had a heart attack and died these people wouldn’t even care. It’s multiple people.

I’m invisible to everyone. Even the things I’m proud of I feel like they get torn down. My love for certain characters because someone HAS to love them “better”, THERE IS NOTHING ELSE I AM GOOD AT. I am a stupid useless lump of meat with no skills and no talents. at least let me have this.

Speaking of, the fact that my comfort characters get FUCK ALL even when a big artist in the fandom does a huge release and INCLUDES EVERY CHARACTER IN THAT PART EXCEPT FOR THEM ON THEIR STICKER SHEETS AND PINS? When I know the person DOES like those characters and has posted as such before????

Or the fact that there’s NO ONE MAKES JOJOLION ANYTHING except for yasugap because I guess that’s all anyone got out of that entire 10 year long part is just The Main Guy and The Main Girl?

I have so little comfort content and it’s hard to make my own when the fibro and arthritis AND carpal tunnel are all flaring up bad and making drawing the way I do impossible right now. I hold a pencil and it feels like knives.

I’m still useless. It’s like pulling teeth to go anywhere and even then it’s only my mom. I can’t keep rotting here but I have no choice and I can’t work. I can’t even take commissions right now because of the stupid hand thing and I don’t think anyone else is going to want it. It’s not colored, it’s not beautiful, it’s a phone picture taken of a sketch on a piece of paper. Because I have no scanner and scanner apps are DOGSHIT.

I’m getting sicker and sicker. My body is in a constant state of adrenal response now which is funny because I’m also sleeping about 15 hours a day. I can’t stop being tired.

I wish I were dead but I can’t be because I’m a coward and I keep holding up hope stuff will get better. But it won’t. None of it will. I’ll be denied for disability I’m sure because I have been three separate times, even though it’s all worse now.

I don’t have income or any money of my own and my bf can’t help me anymore and I don’t wanna ask anyone. I’ve done it too much. I can’t do it anymore. People already look down oj me for it. “you’re a grown ass adult lmao” tell that to literally every part of my body that doesn’t fucking function right. I went to vocational rehab. There’s NOTHING I CAN DO. It all interferes with one disability or another. It’s the perfect storm of dogshit.

everything is breaking around me and no one cares and I never want to wake up again. i just wanna do dumb shit with salezucc and yotsusho forever because nothing else even matters anymore. but no one even cares about that anymore except like one person each. because they’re not Kakyoin or Risotto or Bruno or whatever.

fuck man. i hope I don’t wake up. everything I’ve done and tried so hard to do to get better is either not working or backfiring.

I’m gonna take my fourth nap of the day and my god do I hope I never wake up. All that would be missed is my fucking vagina at this point. all I am is a depressed sex doll with assault trauma who reopens that wound constantly.

I just don’t care enough anymore. I really don’t. I’m not even eating as much as I used to and food is such a joy for me. I can’t even bother to eat. what a fucking loser.

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xginata · 2 years

Text

Bad Girl

Prompt: short continuation of the dilf!Daichi brain rot.

Pairing: Dilf!Daichi x reader

Rating/Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI. DaddyDom!Daichi is my fave. Some bdsm elements, spanking, slight edging/overstimulation.

Words: 1.8k

Notes: Part two of my dilf!Daichi series. If y’all would like to check out the first part here it is! Hope y’all like it!

Written to: All to you by Sabrina Claudio/Hate The Club by Kehlani/Ride by YK Osiris x Kehlani

It’s been six months since Daichi had the courage to take you out on a date. He was surprised at how long you’ve been with him.

Daichi felt way out of his league, especially out in public. He would notice people staring and glancing at you, especially other men… younger men to be specific. However, his doubts always disappeared when you’d kiss him in public without a care in the world.

You truly liked him, and sometimes you’d say you loved him, out loud to yourself and the butterflies were like no other. Although, you were still too chicken to say it to him you truly felt love for him.

This man wouldn’t just fuck your brains out, he would take care of you, he genuinely cared so much of you well-being. He was caring enough to make food for you to take home just so you would have something to eat.

It was a bit embarrassing when he first went to your apartment.

Everything was a semi-organized, cluttered mess until he arrived. He did two loads of your laundry, organized you pantry, threw out old cans, and he even vacuumed each room. You weren’t messy, you took care of yourself but sometimes your busy work and class schedule would get the best of you and chores would wait. And once you met him, any free time was spent over at his apartment.

On the days he would come over to help you clean up, he wouldn’t have you lift a finger… unless it was on yourself.

All he had you do was lay on the couch, naked, your fingers rubbing your pussy. He would be in the laundry room, encouraging you to moan harder, beg harder. He would come up to you in between loads and help you by lapping his tongue on your slick, he enjoyed edging you to your orgasm. As soon as you felt the release coming he would lick his lips and kiss your forehead and continue working on whatever mess needed attention.

It drove you crazy, the negligence of your orgasm would have you whining and crying. He wouldn’t allow you to reach your orgasm by yourself or else he wouldn’t fuck you like you loved to be fucked.

“You have to be a good girl and wait for daddy.” Daichi whispered against your lips as his fingers were coaxing your cunt.

“Please.” You held your hand around his wrist, not wanting his fingers to leave you.

“Just wait a little more sweetheart.” He kissed your lips quickly before you could catch his with your teeth.

His fingers left you, and immediately he cleaned them off, sucking every digit. You huffed and screamed into a pillow. He chuckled. He loved seeing you like this. So desperate for him and his touch.

Curiousity got the best of you when you peaked your own orgasm. You moaned out Daichi’s name loud enough for him to hear from the other room. He had been nothing but sweet to you. He never got angry or upset with you, you wanted to know what would happen.

He knew you weren’t faking it as you tried to before, he knew what you sounded like when you came, especially since from the many times you'd come over his cock and fingers.

The shuffling in your bedroom stopped abruptly. He walked slowly out of your bedroom. He stood under the doorway and finally spoke.

“Babygirl,” his voice was deeper than before. It sent chills down your spine, but it peaked your orgasm much more that it made your eyes roll back.

“So impatient" He tutted.

"What am I gonna do with you?” He questioned as you laid on the couch, riding out your orgasm.

“I wanted to come and you weren’t letting me.” You pouted.

“That’s all you get today then. Since you want to be impatient.” He says and goes back to his tasks. You stay naked, hoping he was just kidding and he’d come back to tease you. But to your dismay, he kept his word. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even look at you as he finished up the laundry.

He threw on his jacket and walked over and kissed your forehead.

“I’ll see you soon babygirl.” He said. It finally hit you, he was serious, he wouldn’t touch you.

“Daichi.” You cried out his name. He reached for the door and opened it slightly but you wouldn’t let him go.

“Please.” You felt so impatient, immature and embarrassed for acting like this.

“Babygirl, someone’s gonna see you. Go back and sit down.” He warned and closed to door, before anyone walking by could get a view of what’s his. He wouldn’t have minded, he was always down to share but not with just any random stranger.

“Don’t go.” You whimpered.

“Please, I need you.” Your body was clinging onto him.

Daichi sighed and locked the door. He shook off his jacket and lifted you up, your pussy rubbed against his clothing and it ached, you really needed his cock inside you.

“If you hadn’t been a bad girl I would be fucking your brains out right now.” His words elicited a moan from you. He sat on the couch, you were straddling him now, your arms wrapped around him, and your mouth sucking and licking on his neck.

His hands caressed your ass and thighs, rubbing in slow hard circles, occasionally gripping hard on your skin.

“Why’d you disobey me?” He questioned.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice was quiet.

Suddenly, Daichi’s hand collided against your thigh, earning a small gasp from you.

“No, I didn’t tell you to apologize. I asked you why you disobeyed me, so try again, sweetheart.” He rubbed gently on your thigh, a contrast to the red mark that was already starting to appear.

“I—um, I...” You wanted to speak but your words were stuck. Your head was still blurry, and all you could think of was how badly you needed him.

“Use your words, babygirl.” He tempted. You were no longer kissing on his neck, he positioned you slightly at and angle, getting a better view of your ass.

“You’ve got 10 seconds to tell me why. Each number, I’ll spank you harder, so get it out unless you want it to really hurt.” He spoke in a chilling tone.

“10” slap

He slapped your ass lightly, even if it was light it still hurt.

“Daddy, I just..” whimpers fell from your mouth.

“9” slap

“Please...” you huffed.

“8” slap

“I want.."

“7” slap

“Why did you misbehave?” Daichi’s slaps were getting significantly harder, causing tears to start brimming around your eyes.

“6” slap

“I did it because—” you gripped the couch cushions harder.

“5” slap

Tears were falling from your eyes, your breath hitched every time you tried to speak. Slight drool from the pain and pleasure started to stain the couch. Your pussy twitched with every spank, you were dripping all over him.

“4” slap

You worked your courage, breathing in sharply.

“3” slap

“I disobeyed Daddy because—”

“2” slap

You knew you would've been able to speak up before but the pain honestly felt so good.

“I disobeyed Daddy because I wanna be stuffed by him!”

Your ass was red, hand prints coated your soft skin. You were a flushed, teary-eyed, dripping, drooling mess and Daichi was loving every minute of it.

“Babygirl, I would’ve stuffed your tight hole if you just would’ve waited for Daddy to finish.” He soothed your reddened skin.

“You were taking too long and teasing me. It wasn’t fair.” You cried. He gently freed himself from you arms, making you look at him.

“You need to learn patience.” He had one hand holding you from your hip, the other traveled down your stomach and to your open thighs. He massaged over your wet folds slowly.

“Is this what you wanted?” He smirked, “You’re dripping babygirl.” He licks your honey off his fingers. His hands moved to your waist, helping you stand up. You felt week, your legs almost buckling underneath you.

Daichi took his shirt off, unbuckled his pants and pulled off his boxers.

“Come here.” He sat on a lounge chair you had in the corner.

As you were anticipating your relief of having him inside of you, you huffed in exasperation as he sat you down on his lap, your back against his chest. His cock twitched against your folds, it was snug between your thighs.

“Bad girls don’t deserve daddy’s cock.” He said. Your wetness coated your thighs, enough to provide lubrication.

He helped you move up and down on his lap. His cock rubbed against your slit, the feeling was too good for you to admit, even this would get you off.

His hand came down and opened up your folds, so your clit was rubbing against his head. You tried to move his cock into your entrance but he didn't allow that. He slapped your thigh.

"Behave." He hissed.

“Fu-Fuck, babygirl.” Daichi moaned, he loved how amazingly your thighs swallowed up his cock.

You moved faster on him, grinding and whining out his name, chasing your release with every thrust. Your ass was hitting his skin, making the pain come back but the pleasure of his cock rubbing between your pussy and thighs were enough to ignore it.

“Daddy.. I need to.. please.”

“Gonna be a good girl for daddy from now on?” He managed to huff out through thrusts.

“Y-yes Daddy. I’ll be a good girl, I promise.”

He grabbed your hips, his legs spread yours out a bit more and in one swift motion his cock rammed into your wet entrance.

“Damn.” He groaned, “So fucking wet for me.”

"Oh, Fu-uck" Your eyes rolled back. The sensation was too much, the position he had you in was too much.

To add to it his hand pressed above your pelvis, and his other hand on your slit. You were close to crying from the sensation.

"Too m-much...Daddy!" Your breathing was erratic and your heart was pounding out of your chest.

"Take it all, only bad girls quit,"

"Is that what you are? A bad girl" He pounded deeper, and held onto you a little harder.

"N-No, Daddy."

"I'll be your g-good girl, p-please." The feeling came back, your head was feeling light again, anything you were worried was thrown out the window. Your moans got louder and his movements harder but slower, hitting you just right.

"I—"

"I know Baby, me too."

"Come, come on this cock baby."

...

Feeling extremely exhausted you collapsed back on him. He picked you up, carrying you into your bathroom and helped run a bath for you.

He was loving, and caring and did everything to make you feel that way through every touch and kiss.

“I love you.” You said confidently, staring up at him through the bubbles.

“I love you more.” He smiled wide, leaning down to give you a kiss.

#daichi sawamura #daichi x reader #daichi smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu daichi #dilf!daichi #more dilf!daichi brainrot

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soft-boi-eli · 3 years

Note

Ayo do you write for poly relationships?

If that's so, could you do a cc!Karlnapity x male reader? Quackity is hella stressed because of law school and is very tired so the others just

Do little things for him, like acts of service and just, being supportive---

Feel free to say no if it makes you uncomfortable :>

Yep. I myself am poly but not in a relationship yet. So I am perfectly comfortable with it.

We believe in you.

Summary: quackity needs some tlc. With the stress of law school higher then ever you, karl, and sapnap decide to take care of him while he studies.

Pronouns: he him his

Quackity. The hyper happy streamer. Was in his office/streaming room studying for finals.

The stress he was under was immense and all you and your two other boyfriends wanted to do was comfort him and help him through this intense time.

You were monitoring how much he has eaten or drank today. That counter was at zero. The amount of times for a stressful break was monitored by karl. And the bathroom breaks by sapnap. With all of the counters at zero you guys went to work.

You were the only one that could cook in this house. The others would burn it down. So you were always on dinner duty. Or lunch. Even breakfast.

Whipping up some tomato soup and grilled cheese you were quick to plate it. These we're quick simple and the best thing for them to consume.

While sapnap and karl were harassing him to get up you were setting up the living room for a mental break for him. Setting it up for two episodes of the show you guys were watching you yelled up to them. "guys I'm done. And if you have to drag him."

You were making him take this break. Whether he liked it or not. Cramming can be useful yes. But not all the time. Not for hours on end with no food or water. Watching your two boyfriends literally dragging your third one down you smirked.

"So. You thought that you could get away with not eating, drinking, or even bathroom breaks. You thought wrong." Quackity stared at you. That look. He's seen it before.

"No. No! If I don't study I can't pass!" He was desperate to get out of their arms. Walking up to him you squished his cheeks. "Hun. It's gonna be an hour at max. You need to eat. Get some water. We're worried. You haven came out of that room for over 6 hours. Meaning you haven't eaten, haven't filled your water bottle, haven't used the bathroom. It's not healthy. And your brain needs fuel. Not energy drinks." He looked at you for a moment.

What you said was true. Every human needs it. But he just wanted to finish his notes. The ones that he said would be done in less then three hours. The ones that he could study for the final exam with.

But all three of your guys puppy dog eyes won him over.

"Fine. But no longer then an hour." He fully gave in. Letting go of his face you smiled. "Great! I made grilled cheese and tomato soup." Quackity looked over with stars in his eyes.

"You could of just said that Mi Amor. You know I would die for you soup." Rolling you eyes to him as he quickly picked up his plate and bowl.

This man.

He was scarfing it down like he was a starving man.

I mean waking up, studying, and not eating at all does that to you.

As the show played quackity seemed to relax a bit more. That was all you wanted. Him to sit back, relax, give himself a break.

Sadly the two episodes were over faster then they began. Leaving quackity to go back upstairs. Laving his three worried boyfriends.

"Okay guys." They looked at you confused for a sec.

"Every hour we bring him something. Water, a snack, blanket, hot drinks, cuddles. What ever you want. Just make sure he's taking care of himself alright?" They nodded.

"Good. Who's on first hour duty?" Karl was quick. He was nearly springing out of his seat as he raised his hand.

You were fine with it because your took at least two hours.

You were making cookies.

You knew the boys couldn't resist any of the baked goods you made. After all you were a cooking and baking youtuber.

So as the hours passed by the guys kept reminding quackity to take breaks. Telling him to go to the bathroom, stretch his legs a little, have a hug.

So when you finished the last batch it was your turn up there. Bringing a plate full of cookies and milk with you, you knocked gently.

"I swear to God sapnap if you're there again I'm going to ki-." He opened the door and looked directly at you. "Not sapnap this time I brought cookies though!" He greedily grabbed the cookies and milk, letting you in as he did so.

"So studying been going well?" He shrugged. "Could be better could be worse." Laughing lightly you sat in one of the chairs there.

"But way better now that you brought me cookies." Shaking your head you stretched. "Honestly if I didn't decide to learn. I would of never met you guys. But boy am I happy for that. Now I'm with my three handsome boyfriends. One of them ever so cuddly. The other quite the amazing voice. And lastly my extremely smart boy who is going to help so many people when he passes his finals." He tilted his head at you.

Standing up you kissed his forehead. "I belive in you alex. Just remember that your mental health is just as important as this exam." Your voice was soft on his forehead.

"Yeah! You are one of the smartest j have met! Don't you dare give up. But don't you dare mentally strain yourself!" Sapnap was loud.

Rolling your eyes you looked at the two in the door way.

"Yeah! We're here for you alex. If you need a small break we'll always be right here for you! Be it a hug, kiss, cookie, a tv break. Even just an hour of us laying in bed doing nothing except talking. We're here for you!" Karl was quick to add on. God you loved them yet they always tend to get way to cheesy.

"God you guys. I have no clue what I'm going to do with you three. I can't thank you enough." Quackity was about ready to break down in tears. With the ruffle of the hair you smiled brightly.

"No need. You are going through something that you need to work hard on. We aren't going to let you not take care of yourself." You opened your arms. On arm around quackity already.

You were inviting the other two over to join the hug.

Rushing over their arms over layed quackity and you. Squeezing the life out of you both.

God. Don't let this dream come to an end.

Bouns:

At the end of the day. All you, sapnap, and karl knew was the day coming to an end. This wasn't going to end with out quackity.

"Hey. Alex. How close are you to being done?" He turned to you. You hadn't really interuped him the whole time only every once in a while to bring up a snack. He looked up and down your pajama clad body.

He shook his head lightly. "You get comfortable with karl and sapnap. I'll be there in about 15-20 minutes." Nodding lightly you walked up the stairs. Leading to the massive room. This was the room you all shared. While also having your own room for when you wanted to sleep separately.

Karl and sapnap laid awake in their respective spots. "He's not coming to bed?" Sapnap asked. You shook your head.

"He said 15-20 minutes." Crawling between the taller ones you left space for quackity to crawl in.

He was a little off from the 15-20 minutes. He took 30 instead. But you weren't complaining one of your main sources of heat for the night was now in the bed, curled up, head on your chest, hands lightly intertwined with the other two.

Leaving your hands open to lightly comb his hair back and massage his scalp and back. This man was studying for at least 12 hours. And he deserved it.

There was no complaints from anyone. Not even quackity which was quite unusual. Except for the fact he had passed out almost as soon as your fingers started at his scalp.

His little snores brought a smile to your face while little giggles came from karl. While a chuckel came from sapnap. It's unusual for quackity to fall asleep first. But you wouldn't change it.

Not for the world.

*Ahem* I am now one year on testosterone! God it's been a weird journey but I do feel happier about myself.

Also I loved this fluffy tooth rotting oneshot. It made me happy to shower quackity, karl, and sapnap in love. They deserve it!

Anyways I hope you enjoyed and have a good day/night/morning/evening.

Eli out.

#karl x reader #karlnapity x reader #dsmp karl #karl jacobs #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs x y/n #quackity x reader #quackity #quackity x y/n #quackity x you #sapnap x reader #sapnap x y/n #sapnap x you #karlnapity

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hyunsuks-beanie · 3 years

Text

Come With Me

Culinary major! Soobin x food vlogger! reader; just some teeth rotting fluff

Word Count: 3.35k words

Mellow speaks: So I finally completed this long overdue and super fun request!!! Honestly, writing this was just so amazing, and I kinda drew Y/N based on my own self, so I hope you enjoy reading it!!

Rushing into his apartment, Soobin didn't waste a single minute in discarding his bag on the floor, rushing towards his laptop and turning it on. As the screen booted, the final-year culinary major prayed to the gods for the livestream to not have started yet. The winner of the contest from last month was to be announced at the beginning of the stream, and even though Soobin didn't have any hopes of him winning, he couldn't help the tiny voice at the back of his head saying, "What if?."

He was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a voice, sweet and velvety as always. There you were, on his screen, the biggest of smiles plastered on your face, making him feel warm all over. Y/N L/N, his favorite food vlogger in the world, ready to start another livestream. Soobin had always been more of a silent supporter, his introverted self being too shy to even post a comment under any of your videos, partly because you had a habit of replying to as many of those comments as possible, and he knew for a fact that he would combust on the spot if you were to ever reply to his praises of you.

You see, he greatly admired your love for food and your wanderlust. He was also a great fan of the way you spoke, and the way you articulated your ideas and thoughts. Truth be told, he genuinely liked you, and not just your voyager self. Watching your videos over the years, he had found himself developing a small crush on you, knowing full well that it was probably just him being starstruck. So, gathering all the bravery he had, the boy had finally pressed "Send" on the application form for the competition on the last day, after contemplating it for God knows how long.

There had been only one question on the form, asking respondents to describe what food meant to them. A smile had graced Soobin's lips as you answered it, pouring in his most sincere thoughts on everything culinary. What had pushed him to participate, you ask? It had been the prize, of course. A chance to hang out with none other than you yourself, through a one-on-one video call. He had always wanted to see you in person, to tell you how much your vlogs meant to him. How they had helped discover his own love for food, had helped him find his happiness in the kitchen.

And that had brought him to right now, biting on his fingernails as he listened to your regular introduction, one that he knew by heart and repeated after you, subconsciously. "Hey my food-holics! How are all of you doing today? Hale and hearty, I hope!," you said, following up quickly with a brief overview of the contest, before announcing the winner, as Soobin waited with bated breath. "All your answers were amazing, and I could relate to so many of them! It really sucks that we can only have one winner, since you're all winners to me!," you smiled, and he caught himself copying your expression. "So now, the winner of the contest, and the person who gets to be my new friend, is @aglio_olive!!," you exclaimed, clapping your hands as your eyes crinkled up in joy.

The fact that you had just announced him as the winner of registered belatedly, as Soobin was busy gushing over how adorable you had looked while clapping. He felt his mouth drop open, finding it hard to focus on what you said next. "I'll be contacting you via email shortly," you had said, and that was all it took for the rest of the livestream to go by in a blur for him, as he waited for your mail, checking and re-checking his inbox every two minutes. But it wasn't until the next day that he finally received what he had been peeling his eyes out for. An email from your official account (or that's what he figured), informing him that the meeting would take place on the coming Saturday, at 6:00 pm. Now all he had to do was wait three days, but it was easier said than done.

By the time Saturday rolled around, Soobin was equal parts bubbling with excitement and panicking with nerves. Reluctant to trust his own fashion choices, he had called over his best friend, Yeonjun, hoping to get some much needed guidance. "Should I wear this suit? Or will simple tracks be better?," he had asked, making the older boy shake his head as he patted him on the back. "My friend, Y/N's neither your professor, nor your friend. You're meeting them for the first time, so why don't you just wear something comfortable, that would make them feel at ease too?," he smirks, throwing a plain blue hoodie his way.

As the clock struck 6:00, Soobin found himself seated at his study table, ready to start the meeting. He had even prepared cue cards to help him if he got stuck, and they were propped conveniently next to the laptop. He reached out for them, but just at that moment, his screen came alive with someone waving at him with a smile on their face. Awestruck, he simply waved back, too tongue-tied to say anything. "Wow," he thought to himself, "They look so much better without makeup." A couple seconds later, a new kind of panic set in. "Am I staring too hard? Is it creepy? Should I look down? No but I need to keep eye contact!"

Little did he know, you were having similar, if not identical thoughts. "Wow, no one told me he was gonna be this cute. Blue suits him so well! I'm no staring, am I? Should I speak first? Or should I wait for him to say something?" This finally resulted in the both of you speaking at the same time, something you would later smile about. Because saying "How are you? I'm Soobin," and "I'm Y/N! How are you?," helped you crack into laughter, breaking the ice and easing the awkwardness. Once you had gotten past the niceties, it was time to get to know each other better. The cue cards lay unused, as Soobin just spoke about whatever came to mind, praising your vlogs and thanking you for teaching him more about cuisines. You, on the other hand, took the time to get to know him better, asking him questions about what it was like to study culinary science, something you had never gotten the chance to do.

The hour-long virtual meeting flew by in the blink of an eye, or so it seemed to the both of you. Talking to you, Soobin didn't once feel that you were a stranger or that he was just a fan. You seemed like a genuine and warm person to him that he couldn't help but admire you even more than he did before. To him, somewhere during the meeting, you stopped seeming like a famous vlogger anymore, and instead, all he saw you as was a friend. You, on the other hand, had made up your mind about him being the most interesting person you had ever met, and couldn't stop a sad sigh from escaping your lips as you looked at the time. "Well, Soobin. It's been a pleasure meeting you," you had said, making him smile wistfully.

The moment he had logged out of the meeting, he found himself missing you. He thought back on how nice you had been, smiling when he pictured your face, your hair slightly messy but not too unkempt, an oversized hoodie thrown over your body. To him, it had honestly felt like he was conversing with a friend, and he couldn't bring himself to let such an amazing person walk out of his life. So, without thinking, he began typing out an email to your account, his finger hovering just above the "Send" button. He stopped short though, realizing that your official account wasn't meant for personal mails, and realizing that he had no other means to contact you. Pouting, he fell face-first onto the bed, his energy going down all of a sudden.

He woke up to a "ping," indicating an email on his phone. Unlocking it, he noticed a mail from an account he had never contacted before. Clueless, he clicked on it, the phone nearly falling out of his hand as he read through it. It had been you, after all, reaching out to him through your personal account, and telling him that you had loved talking to him, and would like to be his friend. And thus began the most beautiful friendship either of you had ever forged, full of memories even though you hadn't met each other.

Late night video chats and good morning calls became a ritual, and Soobin found himself busily typing away on his phone every free second he got. You told him all about your escapades and trips, sending him photos and urging him to try cooking whatever you ate and whatever you liked. He, on the other hand, would teach you to cook, sending you tips and giving you suggestions on what to eat. Food was an intergalactic part of the relation you shared, but it was far from being the only thing.

When things got hard for him, you were there to push him towards his dream, reminding him day in and day out that he would have to give in his all to achieve it. "You'll be the greatest chef one day, Soob," you'd giggle, causing him to let out a whine as he said, "How would you know? You haven't even tasted my cooking yet!" He too, was there to provide you a taste of what it felt like to be grounded to one place, to have everything you wanted right next to you. He was there for you to cry to when someone posted a nasty comment under you video, and he was there to virtually feed you when you missed a home-cooked meal. Inside jokes became a thing, as did bitching about classmates and complaining about managers.

Over time, your friendship started blossoming into something more, as Soobin found himself catching feelings, real feelings, for you. The way you smiled, the way you would bite your nails just like him as you went through what people had to say about your videos, the way you cracked stupid jokes and laughed at them alone, he found himself loving them all. He had given his heart out to you, and he didn't want to take it back. You, meanwhile, had been a bit more careful of your feelings, wary of harboring any hopes for a long-distance relationship. But over time, you too, found yourself drowning into the oceans that were his eyes, watching the way his lips moved through the screen, imagining them on yours. Over time, you too, felt your feelings grow, but being your stubborn self, you didn't act on them.

Days turned into months, and soon enough, you were keeping Soobin company through his late night study sessions, talking to him in the hopes of keeping him awake. Helping him prepare flashcards, and letting him teach you a full four-course meal so that he could practice for his practical exams. "What are you gonna do once you graduate?," became a regular question you posed towards him, and every time, it was the same reply. "I don't know yet, Y/N. I want to do something like you. I want to travel the world and learn about different cuisines first-hand."

As Soobin's exams drew nearer, you found yourself bring just as worried as he was, worried about how he'd fare in the examinations, worried about what he'll do when he gets his degree. But keeping your concerns aside, you did your best to push him to do his best, study that last chapter, practice that last technique, memorize that last recipe. "I just wanna sleep, Y/N," he'd whine, only to have you let out a giggle at how adorable he looked. "It's for your own good, bub," you'd reply, your smile somehow managing to give him the strength to put in just a little extra effort.

Seeing him work so hard, you couldn't help but want to give him a surprise by congratulating him in person when he graduated. So, you decided to plan a trip to Seoul, shooting a film vlog just an excuse to finally meet your closest friend, and the person you had a crush on. You had initially wanred to keep the plan a secret, but soon realized what a waste it would be to not use it to your advantage. And so started your ingenious way of getting Soobin to hit the books. "I'm coming to Seoul after your exams, but I'll meet you only if you put in all your effort," you'd tell him, repeating it like a mantra day in and day out.

In response, the boy would pout and whine about how he "hated" you, but started putting in double the effort, just to make you proud. Your tactic seemed to work, but Soobin was still nervous. Nor about the theory, but about the practical exams. "What if I don't do well on the exam? It happens all the time on Masterchef," he said one day, looking into your eyes as you attempted to calm him down. "I know you'll nail it, Binnie," you replied, smiling at him through the screen. "Just think about what makes you happy while you cook, and you'll be good to go." As if on a whim, Soobin muttered out a soft, "You," causing your breath to hitch as you asked him to repeat. "You make me happy," he said again, looking down as he felt his cheeks growing warm. You couldn't help but smile at his sudden confession, sending a virtual kiss his way. "Now go study, you idiot," you giggled, proceeding to tell him about your day as he pored over his books.

The day of his practical exam rolled by, and as you had said, Soobin decided to cook while thinking of something that made him happy. He thought back on the day when you had told him about a delicacy from a city you had visited, and had convinced him to teach you how to make it. The memory alone made a smile appear on his lips, reminding him of how happy the two of you were. And so, that's what he cooked, passing his exam with flying colors. He was so happy he could have kissed you if you were there, and he told you that, causing a laugh to escape your lips. "I'll be there soon," was all you said, fighting to control your excitement.

Soobin passed with flying colors, earning his degree fair and square. And the one person he wanted to thank for it, was you. As you had promised him, a week later found you roaming the streets of Seoul, as you hurriedly made your way towards his college, ready to finally meet him at his convocation. Climbing up the stage to accept his degree, his eyes were busy scanning the crowds, eager to see your face. When he couldn't find you, however, he felt his smile falter, as he took in a gulp.

"Where are you Y/N?," he thought to himself, hand itching to check his phone that was lying in his back pocket. You had told him you'd be here on time, so then, where were you? Just as he feels himself falling deeper into his thoughts, he (like everyone else in the hall) hears footsteps running down the corridor, finally revealing you standing at the entrance, out of breath and with a huge smile stretching across your face. "You're here," he mouthed, his smile matching yours, as you replied with a simple nod and a "Congratulations," your eyes brimming with tears of joy for the boy.

Accepting his degree, Soobin walked off the stage to sit with his classmates, eyes meeting yours every so often as he tried to fight the urge to rush to you and hug you. Once the ceremony ended, neither of you wasted a second in finding each other, throwing yourselves into a hug long overdue. It didn't feel weird as you snuggled your face into his convocation robe, and it didn't feel weird as he did the same into your hair. Pulling away, you just couldn't hide the smiles that threatened to take over your entire face, taking each other's hand as Soobin left you to his parents. "Mom, Dad, this is my friend Y/N," he introduced, and his mom didn't miss the spark in her son's eyes as he looked at you.

Once you were done with the niceties, the two of you made your way out into the city once Soobin had handed his robe over to his mom. Walking the streets with him, with you cracking jokes and him pointing out tourist sights to you, you felt something you had never felt, no matter how many cities you visited. A sense of comfort, a sense of belonging. You felt like you were home for the first time in ages, and it was all because of the guy walking next to you. As if on a whim, you whipped out your video-camera, switching it on and turning it to yourself. Soobin belatedly realized what you were doing, when he heard you recite you introduction. Looking at you in shock, he felt his mouth fall open as he heard you say the words, "Friend," "Soobin," "Featuring," "Guide," in quick succession, piecing the sentence together in his brain.

"Y/N! What are you doing??," he whined, looking down to hide his face. "Awww Soobinnie is shy!!! Sorry guys, it's his first time," you cooed, a giggle escaping your lips as you turned your camera off, trying to convince him to feature in your vlog. "But I won't know what to say!!," he retorted, making you snicker. "Just take me out to eat somewhere tell, and tell the camera why you like the place you like and the food you like. It's not that hard!," you replied, and after much convincing (and some borderline begging), he finally agreed.

He showed you all his favorite eateries and restaurants, gawking at the insane discounts you got him, and just enjoying watching you eat in person, sharing his food. By the time evening rolled out, the two of you were full to your throats, looking out over the river from the bridge. "Thank you Y/N," Soobin said, turning to look at you. "For today, and for everyday. For being there for me, and for being the best friend I have ever had, and more." "Thank you too, Soob," you replied, your eyes stinging as you looked up at him. "Thank you for making me feel at home. Thank you for becoming my home." You hadn't noticed just how close your faces had become, both of you having leaned in subconsciously. Finally, Soobin closed the gap, your lips meeting his in a kiss that's full of the pent-up love and emotions.

His lips were soft against yours, molding with yours like two pieces of the same puzzle. Pulling away, a smile graced your lips as you looked up at him shyly, whispering an "I like you," causing him to repeat your words and adding a "too," cheeks rising up in a smile. Biting you bottom lip, you say, "Come with me," making him tilt his head in confusion. "You said you wanted to be like me. To learn about cuisines first-hand. Then come with me. I don't want to be away from you, I want to be with you 24/7, and not virtually. I want to talk to you in person, to hug you, to kiss you." You notice his smile growing wider, and so you ask, "So, what do you say?," as he replies by placing his lips back on yours.

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silversatoru · 3 years

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Hi, I just finished burdens and OML 🥺🥺🥺

May I request some sort of megumi x reader continuous where the reader ends up becoming a powerful sorcerer (or a cursed spirit👀 whichever you’d like tbh) megumi and the reader somehow cross paths again a little while after the break up and he witnesses her fighting for the first time? I just know that boy would fall in love all over again but she’s moved on and he feels guilty and just angst? And maybe fluff idk. I’m new to requests so I hope I did this right, thank you so much❤️❤️

burdens pt. 2

a/n: hello, part two of this not-so-lovely story is finally here. every single one of you is allowed one free punch to my face for taking so long to write it,,, i’m so sorry. this is its fourth rewrite and it got a little darker than expected but it’s finally done,, i hope you enjoy <3

fushiguro megumi x f!reader

synopsis: you finally see megumi again at the kyoto sister school goodwill event

tags/warnings: angst, some graphic depictions of violence, character death

word count: 3k

“Do you know how tired I am of watching the people I love die? Things would be so much easier for me if you just stayed the fuck away”.

Megumi’s bitter words were on repeat in your head — the harshness of his voice leaving a hollow feeling carved into your chest. Tear-stained cheeks and shaky breathes had become your new normal these past few days. Tight, sharp pains filled your empty stomach, waves of nausea coursing through your body.

You’ve had no motivation to get out of bed lately, nevermind to shower or cook yourself a proper meal — honestly, for all you cared you could rot away in your blanket filled bed. You checked your phone like a fiend too, thinking that eventually, a miraculous text from Megumi would appear and make everything better. It never did.

He’d completely ghosted you since that dreadful day, and that hurt more than anything. You’d held onto a sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, he hadn't meant what he said. But as the days continued to pass, your hope quickly dwindled.

To say your current state was shameful was putting it lightly, and you were embarrassed at how poorly this was effecting you. You liked to think that you were strong, motivated, independent — that you didn't need some douchebag just to feel happy. But truth be told, breakups are fucking hard, and it's okay to not be okay for a while — or at least that's what you kept telling yourself.

So when you were trudging miserably down the street to your local convenience store and you saw a familiar pair of jujutsu sorcerers, you wanted desperately to sink into the ground. You made a quick turn to head to a different shop, but it was too late, you were spotted.

“y/n! hey!” Two lighthearted voices sang through the air, filling your ears and making your heart clench in your chest.

You turned around and anxiously approached them, your unkempt hair and baggy eyes sending looks of concern across their faces.

“Hey girl, you good?” Nobara shot you a sideways glance, Maki raising a suspicious eyebrow.

“Yeah, uh, ice cream,” You croaked, speaking for the first time in a couple days, “I’m here for ice cream, that’s all”.

“Yeah, but why do you look like a fucking zombie?” Maki pushed her eyeglasses further up her nose, her sharp eyes looking you up and down.

“Ah, he didn’t say anything to you guys, did he?” You shook your head, heavy eyes falling to ground as you refused to meet theirs.

“Don’t tell me…” Nobara’s face contorted, “Did he break up with you?”

You nodded, a pitiful chuckle falling from your lips, because if you didn’t laugh, you’d start sobbing right now.

Maki threw her arm around your shoulder, pulling you to her side and ushering you into the store, “It’s okay, men suck. Hang out with us today”.

Meanwhile, Nobara trailed quickly behind the two of you, anger seething from her teeth and steam practically billowing out of her ears.

“That fuckhead! I swear I’ll fuck his shit up big time, he won’t even know what fucking hit him. I knew that boy was stupid but shit, this is a whole new low for him! I-,” She continued to ramble and rant as Maki led you through the store, picking out drinks and snacks to help ease your pain.

The three of you ended up in a nearby park, sitting around a small picnic table and gorging on the massive array of snacks. Lighthearted conversation and lots of food make your chest ache a little less, and you even found yourself laughing and chatting as if things were normal. You’d told the two of them all about that day, about Megumi’s irrational words and his tragic breakdown that led to some kind of fucked-up break up sex.

“So, how are we gonna get back at him? Egg his car? Put bleach in his shampoo? Bugs in his food? God - it’s a shame his dad is dead because from the pictures I’ve seen that man was FINE and revenge sex—,”

“Nobara,” Maki shot her idiot girlfriend a dirty look, and the orange-haired girl quickly shut her mouth, “As much as I support any idea that revolves around ruining a man’s day, I don’t think revenge is the healthiest coping strategy here”.

You were tracing your eyes around Maki’s face as she spoke, and you found yourself carefully inspecting her purple glasses that rested softly on the bridge of her nose. And that’s when it clicked, the light bulb ignited in your head and you knew exactly what you wanted to do.

“Maki,” your voice was urgent, “You don’t have cursed energy, you can’t even see them without your glasses!”

Her face twisted and her nose scrunched, a look of distaste in her eyes, “I know?”

“So, you could teach me, right? You could help me learn how to use some cursed weapons?”

“Yeah! You have to Maki, then she can beat his ass with me,” Nobara chimed in.

“That’s not a bad idea actually,” Maki’s mouth formed an evil grin, “Could you imagine his face after watching you exorcise a curse?”

The three of your conversed for a bit longer, speculating and potting about training, weapons, and your very own pair of curse-seeing glasses. By the end of the night you had a plan, and a pretty good one if you say so yourself.

From that day on, teary eyes and achy hearts were a thing of the past, not because it was that easy to get over Megumi, but because Maki didn’t even allow you the time to feel dismal anymore. You met her everyday after classes without fail, and everyday she would train you until you thought your arms would fall off. After months and months of sore muscles, sweat, and the occasional injury, you were convinced that Maki was incapable of feeling pity or remorse for other living things. Every time you speculated about quitting, she’d set a fire under you, unafraid to remind you how weak you still were.

The green-haired sorcerer had ultimately decided that you worked best dual-armed -- a long, lightweight blade in each hand. On your final day of training, she officially gifted the two swords to you, as a “graduation” gift.

Skill-wise, you were by no means as incredible Maki, but you definitely held your own, and the progress you’d made in a mere 8 months was astronomical. They’d introduced you to a strange silver-haired man at some point, Gojo, who had taken not only an interest in you but also your plot against your ex-boyfriend. He cackled to himself when you told him why you were here, going on and on about how priceless Megumi’s face would be when he saw you.

Your appearance was highly anticipated, so why not debut at one of the biggest jujutsu events all year? The Kyoto Sister School Goodwill Event — Gojo thought it was the most perfect idea.

You tried hard to exude confidence as you walked at Nobara and Maki’s sides, but behind your arrogant facade your stomach was twisting itself into knots. Truthfully, you were scared to see Megumi again after so long.

And when your eyes met with his as you walked into the meeting room, you thought you just might pass out. You thought you were ready for this — but the look of complete shock, fear, and anger on his face as he looked you up and down almost made you regret all of it.

“What’s going on?” Megumi’s words were incredibly calculated, an edge on his voice.

His question was pointless, however, because judging by the fact that you were wearing a jujutsu tech uniform and had two swords sheathed at your sides could only mean one thing. Your hair was longer now too, and your frame was wider with an extra layer of muscle from all the training — you almost looked like a different person.

“I’ve been training with Maki, I-,” You spoke up to explain yourself, but you weren’t even granted the opportunity.

“No, no, Maki, what the hell did you do?” His eyes were shaky and laced with concern.

“I only did what she asked me to. I’m not the one who gave her a complex about being weak, you did that,” Maki shrugged, “and she’s not your girlfriend anymore dude, what do you care?”

Absolute confliction flashed through his eyes, uncertainty and madness swirling in his irises, “You’re right, I don’t care. Let me know when the event is starting”.

He took a sharp turn out of the room and let the door slam a little too hard behind him. The sound of his icey voice and the door shutting with unkind force was all too reminiscent of the night you broke up. Burying every emotion you had deep into your stomach you gave Maki a small, reassuring smile and plopped down on one of the couches.

“Alright, so when does this thing start?”

after the start of the event

Fighting the Kyoto students was proving to be much harder than you initially expected, but you were holding your own at Maki’s side. The two of you had easily taken down a small, kind, blue haired girl named Miwa, and now you were watching an emotional battle between Maki and her sister unfold.

Wait here, she’d told you, I want to do this one myself. Take some notes on my form and watch our backs, okay?

Okay, you’d said, a little confused but ultimately finding a nice spot up in a thick tree to carefully observe from. Maki was truly a force of nature, and it seemed like the other girl never actually had a chance of winning. It was honestly only a few minutes before the small black, haired girl was slumped against a tree and Maki was making her way back to you. Things were looking good, two of Kyoto’s student’s were down already and adrenaline was pumping through your veins.

You couldn't quite shake the awful feeling churning in your stomach though, and Megumi’s face was haunting your thoughts. You hadn’t seen him since before the event started, when an odd, pink haired boy jumped out of a box and freaked everyone out. Nobara had later explained who he was and what had happened, and you wondered how many awful surprises Gojo had planned today -- first you, then that.

A small rumble rippled under your feet, and Maki grabbed your arm as you watched a giant brown vine lurch it’s way out of the ground a few hundred yards in the distance.

“That technique doesn’t belong to anyone from Kyoto,” She shot you a look of concern and determination, “let’s go check it out”.

You gave her a firm nod, the two of you making your way towards the horrifying wooden vines. By the time you managed to arrive, Inumaki was already down and so was a dark-haired boy from Kyoto. A muscular, white curse with black markings and wooden branches for eyes was moments away from taking Megumi on all by himself — thank god you got here in time to help.

Megumi, however, was horrified when he saw you jump over the tall roofed building with Maki at your side. He’d just watched two incredible sorcerers get their shit rocked by this curse, there was no way you would stand a chance against this thing. But before he could even try to stop you, you and the green-haired sorcerer were flying through the air and taking shots at the curse. The two of you worked perfectly in sync, the months of daily training finally paying off.

He watched with intent glazed over his eyes, his heart threatening to lurch up his throat. You were a spectacle, and he always thought you were beautiful but seeing you now with dirt and blood stained clothes, cursed weapons gripped firmly in your hands, you truly were ethereal. He hated it though, he hated that he was falling in love with you all over again, especially under these circumstances. Guilt and anxiety was eating away at him — why did you have to get involved? Why couldn’t you have just stayed away like he told you to?

He was quick to join the two of you, sticking close to your side to protect you if need be — but, even with all three of you together the curse still had the upper hand. Maki had been swatted to the side, her back slamming hard against one of the tiled roofs and knocking her unconscious. It was down to just the two of you now, beads of sweat causing your hair to uncomfortably stick to the back of your neck. This was something that Maki’s training could have never prepared you for.

Megumi was getting tired, taking one wrong step and losing his footing momentarily. The curse saw this as a perfect window of opportunity, sending a spiral of vines and branches hurling for Megumi. It was fast, but the adrenaline coursing through you helped you to move faster, launching yourself through the air and intercepting the attack. The barky, wooden vines twisted violently through your stomach, shooting clean through your back and ripping a violent scream from your throat.

It hurt so bad, feeling the plant wriggle through your organs and tear you apart from the inside out. The curse retracted his vine a few moments later, leaving your mangled body to fall helplessly to the roof. Tears rippled from your eyes, your body shaking and seizing as you coughed up a few sprays of blood.

A long, strong pair of arms scooped you up instantaneously, and your head was resting against a firm chest — probably Megumi, but you didn’t quite have the energy to open your eyes to check.

“We’ll take it from here, get her to Ieiri!” You heard a pair of deep voices yelling to Megumi, but it was too foggy and far away for you to understand what they were saying.

Megumi was seething with anger, moving as fast as his feet could carry him and he ran through the school. As you waved in and out of consciousness, you batted open your eyes, stealing quick glances at his twisted features and — were those tears on his face?

“I- I’m sorry Megumi… I think I finally understand what you were so afraid of all this time,” Your voice was barely a croak, “when I saw it coming, I couldn’t stomach the thought of having to watch you die. I suddenly just thought I would do anything to keep you safe”.

Yeah, those were definitely tears, you could see them a little clearer now. His eyes were red and his cheeks were dried with salty streaks.

“You’re so thick-headed,” he mumbled, his grip around you tightening slightly as he picked up his pace, “I wish you would have made that realization before there was a giant hole in your stomach”.

“Me too,” You hummed, but you weren’t really in any pain anymore. The pain had subdued to a sweet warm sensation inside your stomach, and an intoxicating sleepiness was washing over your head, “I was angry for a long time, but I’m not mad at you anymore, Gumi. I hope you can forgive me too”.

You offered him a tiny smile, but the blood leaking from between you keeps made it anything but sweet.

“There’s nothing to forgive you for, you never did anything wrong,” He spoke quickly, his voice quiet and cracking.

“No, but we’re not gonna make it to Ieiri, I know that and so do you,” You fell into a violent fit of coughs again, sputtering red splatters all over the front of his uniform.

“Shut up”.

“It’s not your fault, none of it was ever your fault,” you choked out once the fit of coughs subsided — and you weren’t just talking about yourself, you were talking about all of the unfortunate tragedies he’d witnessed throughout this life.

“And you’re allowed to be selfish sometimes, you know? I hope that when you meet someone, your soulmate even, you can allow yourself to love them with every part of you”.

The words painfully left your lips, but you meant every single one of them. You were starting to realize that you and Megumi were never meant to make it to the end. You weren’t his soulmate, you were here to help him grow, so that when he did finally meet them he’d be ready.

“You deserve to be loved, Megumi,” You looked up at him with big eyes, but his face was starting to get really fuzzy now.

Your fingers were going numb and your mouth felt like it was filled with sand. You were so tired, letting your eyes flutter shut and your head rest softly against Megumi’s chest. You felt him stop running, you could even hear him screaming at you — but it was too far away for you to hear. You drifted closer and closer to eternal sleep, your soul swollen with love for the boy who broke your heart.

Megumi didn’t even feel sad when you stopped breathing in his arms — he just felt hollow. More empty and broken than he’d ever thought possible. You were the most incredible person he’d ever met — someone with extreme motivation, who acted with no fear or hesitation, who always had love to give, even when he didn’t deserve it. He’d never forget you, not for as long as he’d live anyway.

Even when he did meet a new girl a few years later — a compassionate, brave girl, who reminded him a lot of you — he wouldn’t forget. He wouldn’t forget your words and for the first time in his life he’d let his walls down for her. He’d allow himself to truly love, and be loved in return.

And maybe you were right, maybe he did deserve to be loved like this, because god, he finally feels whole again when she’s around. He just wishes you were still here so he could say thank you.

#megumi angst #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #angst #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro x reader #megumi x you #megumi fushiguro angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsukaisen #jjk x y/n #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #this is sad i’m sorry

608 notes · View notes

goldenraeofsun · 3 years

Note

A/b/o + celebrities and/or coffee shop 👀

Thanks so much for the prompt, Julesy, and I'm so sorry for the long wait! Part II should be up in the next few days, but hopefully this beginning 7k will satisfy for the time being 😘

Castiel is elbow-deep in suds when Jo plunks a medium to-go cup on the edge of the sink. “Thank you?” he says, bemused.

“It’s not for you, doofus,” Jo says, rolling her eyes. “There’s a customer out back,” she jerks her head towards the service exit that leads to the alley where they dump their trash and Ruby takes her furtive smoke breaks. “I need you to take this to him.”

“Out back?” Castiel repeats dubiously, craning his neck to catch sight of their on-site baker, Benny, who is busy kneading focaccia dough for tomorrow’s sandwiches. Benny, full of southern politeness, doesn’t give any indication he’s eavesdropping.

Jo gives Castiel a short nod, her alpha scent flaring with irritation. “I’d take it out there myself, but he always talks my ear off, and Kevin still can’t draw a latte art that doesn’t look like a dick, so…”

Castiel frowns but nods, and Jo’s expression eases once she doesn't hear a challenge to her request. Still, he has to ask, “But why doesn’t he order at the counter like a normal customer?”

Jo takes a step back towards the door. “You’ll see. Just… don’t make a big deal of it.”

“A big deal of what?” Castiel calls to her, but she’s already disappeared out to the front of the cafe.

Castiel sighs and wipes his hands on a dish towel. He picks up the drink, sniffing curiously.

He nearly gags at the strong aroma of brown sugar, cinnamon, nutmeg, and apples all on top of espresso and milk. They definitely don’t serve that on the menu. Admittedly, Castiel hasn’t memorized the list of hot drinks they serve at Hunter’s Cafe, but this is an assault on anyone with a nose. He’s been their busboy and dishwasher for six months since his second year as a graduate student began, and Jo has only let him mind the counter three times, all as far from peak time as she could get.

But a job is a job. Holding the drink, he shoulders open the back door.

“Hey - oh, you’re not Jo,” a familiar voice says.

Castiel stops dead in his tracks because, despite the sunglasses, the baseball hat, and hunched shoulders, Dean Winchester is unmistakable.

Away from the limelight, Dean apparently favors soft-looking flannels over worn tee shirts and jeans. In one hand, he holds a half depleted sheaf of french fries. Stunned, Castiel doesn't immediately hand over the reason for his appearance.

“Whatever, is that mine?” Dean demands, zeroing in on Castiel’s cup.

Still beyond speech, Castiel dumbly hands the affront to coffee over.

After a muttered thanks, Dean takes a long drink. “Christ, this tastes even better than normal.”

Castiel inhales a surreptitious breath. It’s not every day one gets to catch the scent of Hollywood’s omega darling.

Not that anyone would know Dean's secondary gender just by looking at him. Dean stands a few inches taller than the average male omega - he has nearly an inch of height on Castiel, and Castiel is the dictionary definition of standard alpha physique.

While Castiel might not be Dean’s most knowledgeable fan, he hasn’t been living under a rock for the past five years. It was all over the papers when Dean was cast in his first alpha role. Dean wasn’t the first omega actor to do so, but he was certainly the most prominent. Castiel’s sister, Anna, an actual fan, spent a memorable dinner ranting about how all the prejudiced reporters on the press tour. Apparently they only asked Dean about the diet and exercise routine that transform into a “real” alpha, while, in the next round, his alpha castmates fielded questions about their characters’ moral code and complex development.

But, in the alley behind Hunter’s Café, Castiel’s nose is completely overwhelmed by the fryers of the fast food restaurant next door, the set of dumpsters directly to his right, and the almost offensively apple coffee Dean is currently drinking like his life depends on it. Dean could smell like old gym socks for all Castiel can tell.

“Where’s Jo?” Dean asks once he resurfaces. He jams a few fries in his mouth. Before he's finished chewing, he sucks down some more latte in an unholy taste combination.

“Busy,” Castiel replies. “We have a new hire, and so far Kevin can only draw genitalia on lattes instead of flowers.”

Dean guffaws, nearly inhaling his drink. Swearing unrepentantly, he takes his sunglasses off and rubs at his temple with his free hand. “Christ, I’m too hungover to laugh like that.” He squints over at Castiek before sliding the sunglasses back on his face.

Castiel stares. “If you’re hungover, why are you here at -” he checks his watch “-seven in the morning?”

Dean slurps at his fruity latte before he answers. “Got a meeting at nine. This,” he says, brandishing his mostly empty cup, “and a large fries are the cure.” His hands occupied, Dean ducks his head to fish a single fry out and holds it like a cigarette between his lips.

“That sounds disgusting,” Castiel says, aghast.

Dean inches the rest of the fry into his mouth. “Don't knock it ‘til you try it,” he says with a wink.

Cas blushes.

“Hey,” Dean says, a new thought coming to him, “What’s your name?”

Taken aback by the question, he answers, “Castiel.”

Dean mouths his name once, his brow furrowing at the new syllables. With a small shrug of capitulation he says, “Well, Cas, thanks for the drink.” He toasts him one before tipping the cup all the way back, draining it.

“You’re welcome, Dean.”

Dean grins. “I couldn't tell if you recognized me or not.”

“I did,” Castiel says, clearly unnecessarily.

Amused, Dean throws him a long, considering look. “You’ve got one hell of a poker face.” He unceremoniously shovels the rest of the fries in his mouth and balls up the wrapper. He tosses it with practiced ease into the waiting dumpster.

“Thank you?” Cas says, nonplussed.

“Thank you,” Dean says, pushing his sunglasses up his nose. “You’re the one who saved my hide.” He sidles forward and shoves a bill into Castiel’s slack hand. Without another word, he takes off out of the alley and onto the street.

Once he’s out of sight, Castiel unclenches his hand. Dean tipped him ten dollars.

* * *

“How is this even more pungent than last time?” Castiel demands, nose wrinkling as he sets a now clean muffin tin back on the shelf. It’s been a week since he met Dean Winchester, and hadn’t gotten so much as a whiff of apple pie since then.

He is alone with Jo in the kitchen, since Benny’s early morning shift ends at eleven.

“I added a caramel drizzle,” Jo says, her scent rising with her self-satisfaction.

Castiel stares at her in horror. “Why on earth would you do that?”

“’Cause I’m trying to see what his limit is, and so far - nothing,” Jo says, shrugging. “Get to it. He’s real grouchy if you make him wait too long.”

“And why aren’t you taking it to him?” Castiel says, eyebrows rising. “Kevin’s moved onto multiple hearts now. Admittedly, his first one looked like a labia, but he’s gotten much better.”

“But Ruby didn’t show up, so we’re short staffed,” Jo says shortly. Outside, Kevin yells something indistinguishable though the kitchen door, and Jo winces.

Castiel takes the latte.

Just like last time, Dean is waiting, wearing a different flannel but the same jeans with the hole above the left knee. He abandoned the sunglasses, since the clouds overhead cast the whole alley in shade. They’re hanging from the vee of his shirt collar, pulling the fabric down a tempting extra inch.

Unfortunately, the fast food restaurant next door must have just taken out the trash last night, since the alley reeks of stale bread and rotting fish patties.

Castiel lets the door slam behind him, unable to hold back his corresponding smile as Dean lights up as he sees him.

“Thank god,” Dean says as he reaches for the latte. “I was starting to think Jo was gonna stiff me.”

“We’re short staffed at the moment,” Castiel says apologetically, “so you got me again.”

Dean eyes him over the lid of his cup. “Not a downside from where I’m standin’,” he drawls.

Castiel has no idea how to respond to that, so he doesn’t. Dean can’t mean it like Castiel thinks he does. He’s an actor, feeding people lines is the dictionary definition of his job. Instead Castiel asks, “No french fries this time?” because he’s not nearly ready to leave yet.

“Already ate ’em, while I was waiting,” Dean says dismissively.

Castiel shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry.”

“No harm, no foul,” Dean says with a little grin. “I got my caffeine fix eventually, and that’s what I really care about.”

“You look remarkably more put together than last time,” Castiel says as he leans against the doorway, watching Dean sip at his drink.

“Didn’t drink as much,” Dean says with a grin. He tips back his cup and takes a long pull. “Fries can only get you halfway there. Christ, that’s the stuff.”

Castiel can’t help but make a face. The latte smells horrendous; it can’t taste that much better.

“What?” Dean asks, eyes narrowing.

Castiel probably shouldn’t tell Dean what is exactly on his mind. Castiel has found very few people appreciate his default brand of honesty - Hunter’s Café customers, especially. But Dean isn’t technically his customer - he’s Jo’s - and Castiel has reached the point in his life where he doesn’t need to hang onto people who don’t like him and vice versa. Dean isn’t even providing extra publicity for the establishment, since he’s getting serviced in the alley behind the kitchen.

Technically, Castiel needs a celebrity acquaintance as much as he needs a free bag of cat food (he doesn’t have a cat).

But he does like having one.

A celebrity acquaintance, that is. Cats are inherently suspicious.

Reluctantly, Castiel says, “I can’t imagine that latte tastes very good.”

To his surprise, instead of demanding Jo bring him his coffee from now on, Dean laughs. “Not a fan of apple pie?”

“Not in my coffee.”

Dean takes an obnoxiously loud slurp. “I think it’s delicious.”

“I think your taste buds must be severely incapacitated.”

Dean waggles the near empty cup in front of Castiel’s face in what must be an enticing manner to someone with no sense of smell or taste. “Wanna try?”

Castiel valiantly holds back his recoil. “No, thank you.”

But Dean’s genial expression doesn’t waver. “‘M feeling pretty much human again, so it’s up for grabs.”

“I’d sooner lick the dumpster,” Castiel blurts before he can filter himself.

Dean whistles, rocking back on his heels. “Harsh.”

Castiel sighs. Honesty was a mistake. He mutters, embarrassed, “I’m just not a very big fan of sweets.”

“No?”

“I’ve been living with my cousin while in graduate school at Columbia,” he explains, his tone apologetic for his earlier comment, “and he has a horrendous sweet tooth. I don’t think he’s ever seen a carrot that wasn’t in a cake first.”

A wide grin splits Dean’s face. He laughs.

What Castiel wouldn’t give to scent Dean’s joy for himself. “He would probably love that latte,” Castiel continues wryly.

“Probably,” Dean agrees. He taps his fingers against the sides of the cup as he asks, “So you’re in school? For what?”

“Do you really want to know?” Castiel asks seriously. He’s had too many conversations with strangers and casual friends who have asked the exact same question and regretted asking it almost immediately.

Dean ducks his head. “I don’t know any graduate students, and I,” he breaks off, his cheeks going pink, “I never went to college, so I have no idea what it means.” He sucks on the dregs of his latte, gaze dropping to the vicinity of Castiel’s knees.

“Oh,” Castiel says, feeling lighter. “In that case, I’m studying ethnomusicology.”

Dean’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “Are you fucking with me? That doesn’t sound real.”

“It’s a legitimate area of study,” Castiel assures him. “I research music as it pertains to culture and diverse elements of social life. Ethnomusicology focuses not only on the music itself, but music as a social process, as a medium for humans to relate to each other. In short, it examines how music functions in a particular society.”

To Castiel’s surprise, Dean doesn’t get the glazed-over look most people do when he explains his field of study. “So what kind of music are you talking about?”

Now it’s Castiel’s turn to flush. His colleagues, while they respect his academic reputation, have nearly all looked down on his chosen object of study. “One of the main tenets of ethnomusicology is a global perspective on music-”

“What, like Tibetan throat-singing?” Dean interrupts. At Castiels’ stare, he explains quickly, “Sammy had a phase.”

Castiel chuckles. “Yes, I do know a professor at Cornell who is studying just that. But my focus is much closer to home. I study,” he inhales a small breath, “tribute bands.”

Dean’s mouth twitches. “What.”

“Tribute bands offer a fascinating definition of the nature of performance, the difference between authenticity and identity,” Castiel says, already on the defensive. He can already hear his voice trying to fall into his usual academic patterns, and tries to rein himself in, “and historical consciousness in popular music. Here -” He pulls out his phone.

Dean listens in complete silence to Yellow Dubmarine’s cover of I Want You.

“Anyway,” Castiel coughs, embarrassed he made Dean sit through all that, “I also teach Rock and Roll from the 1950s to 1980s. There is a great deal of crossover with my specialty since most tribute bands recreate acts from the 60s to the 80s.”

“Dude,” Dean says in a rush, “if you think that makes you less interesting, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Castiel blinks.

“What bands are we talkin’ about?” he asks eagerly. “More Beatles? The Stones? The Who?”

Castiel nods. “I’m hoping to go to a Lez Zeppelin concert next month.”

“Led Zeppelin?”

“Lez,” Castiel says, emphasizing the ‘z’, “an all-female Led Zeppelin tribute band.”

Dean frowns. “They have a gimmick?”

Castiel shakes his head. “They’re completely sincere, I assure you.” He smiles wryly. “I interviewed Misstallica for a paper I’m writing on diverse, for lack of a better word, musicians in the tribute world, and they felt right at home with the long hair and tight pants. I’ve never met people who more adore the songs they perform.”

“Huh,” Dean says, rubbing his chin.

“Except maybe Air-O-Smith,” Castiel adds, “an American all-omega tribute band of Aerosmith.”

Dean’s eyes widen to the size of dinner plates.

“My favorite all-omega tribute band, though, is Omega You Eight One Two,” Castiel muses, “a Van Halen cover band.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean says faintly.

“Their lead guitarist, as you can imagine, is phenomenal.”

Dean shakes his head, his expression going slack. “Wait, seriously? That’s a thing? All omega acts?”

“Of course,” Castiel says. “That’s one of the most compelling aspects of tribute bands, when they flip the traditional male-alpha dynamic of the original, and how they translate that into their own act while keeping the whole performance authentic to the creators. It’s a fascinating process to watch and study.”

“I bet,” Dean says fervently. “Hey, d’you think-”

The back door opens before Dean can finish his sentence.

Jo pokes her head out, looking askance at the pair of them. “Are you still out here?” She glares at Dean. “Stop complaining about your diet, and let Castiel come back to work.”

Castiel’s mouth purses. “You’re on a diet?”

“Not on cheat day,” Dean tells him, lifting his empty cup. He turns to Jo. “And I wasn’t complaining at all. Cas was actually telling me about tribute bands.”

“Really?” Jo asks, her nose wrinkling.

Dean tosses his trash in the dumpsters. “They sound awesome.”

“I like them,” Castiel says lamely, off-footed now the conversation is clearly wrapping up.

Jo rolls her eyes, alpha irritation practically radiating off her. “Good for you.”

“Alright, well, I’ll let you deal with Joanna Beth on your own,” Dean says as he pulls out his wallet and hands Castiel a folded bill. He gives a mocking salute as he takes a step back, “Good luck, dude.”

“Thank you?”

“Come on, fanboy,” Jo growls once Dean’s disappeared from view, “back to work.”

* * *

“Can’t you take it?” Castiel asks, his tone verging on pleading, as Jo follows him back into the kitchen. It’s too early in the morning for another meeting, closer to first time Castiel met Dean at seven am compared to their last meeting at a little before eleven.

This past weekend, Castiel went down a spiral of Dean Winchester content. He read up on all of Dean’s recent projects, scanned headlines about rumors of his next film - some action thriller that Castiel presumes is the reason for Dean’s diet, and watched interview after interview. Dean on Stephen Colbert. Dean on Good Morning America. Dean on some very confusing show where they forced him to eat spicy chicken wings, which just seemed like an exercise in pepper-based sadism.

Castiel didn’t really understand the Saturday Night Live skit where Dean played one half of a demon-hunting brother duo, but the live studio audience laughed uproariously at multiple points.

Jo all but slams Dean’s latte on the ledge above the sink. “You know the health inspector is here. I can’t let Ruby near the guy, and you know how Kevin gets around figures of authority.”

Castiel sets down his tub of dirty dishes. “He nearly peed himself when he had to tell you he dropped a tray of scones over the floor last week,” he says flatly.

“Exactly,” Jo says. “Benny is busy,” she says, tipping her head to where Benny is adding more flour to a huge bowl.

“Cheers, darlin’.”

She turns back to Castiel. “So, you’re it today, champ.”

“Great,” Castiel grumbles.

“What?” Jo asks, her hands on her hips. “You seemed to get along with Dean. I actually didn’t know you could talk that much before I sent you back there.”

Castiel carefully transfers the dirty plates to the sink. “Getting along with him isn’t the problem,” he says darkly.

“Getting along with him too well is the issue?” Jo asks, her eyebrows rising.

Castiel scowls at her observation. Her emotional intuition is what makes her an excellent café manager, so he can hardly fault her for that. He doesn’t respond to her question.

“Take it to him,” Jo says, her tone softening. “He likes you.”

Castiel raises his head to stare at her. “How do you know that?”

Jo pulls her phone from her back pocket and waves it in his face. “We talk,” she says. “How do you think he orders every time? He’s not getting those lattes for free, not after I spent so much time getting them exactly right.”

Castiel can’t hold back his grimace. The latte still smells awful, like a vat of boiled candied apples.

“Look,” Jo says, lowering her voice, “Dean’s famous, sure, but he’s actually a very private person. He runs his mouth to anyone who’ll listen, but he never really says anything important. So he doesn’t really connect with a lot of people. If he says he likes you, I’m gonna say that’s a good thing - if you tell him I said this, I’ll kick your ass - and make you his designated errand boy.”

Castiel bites his lip. “But I don’t -”

“Dude, don’t make me pull the boss card,” Jo says, just the barest hint of threat in her words.

“Fine.” Castiel snatches the latte off the counter. “But I want a raise.”

“You can get a free sandwich.”

Castiel glares daggers as he shoulders open the back door.

But the alley is empty.

Castiel breathes through his mouth as he steps out. The overflowing dumpsters carry the odor of moldering cheese and more rancid fish, and the fryers next door are still going strong. He doesn’t find Dean lurking behind the trash for some strange reason, and he’s about to head back in and dump Dean’s latte down the sink when a shout makes him turn around.

“Hey, Cas!” Dean calls, jogging in from the brightly lit street.

“Hello, Dean.” He hands over the latte.

“Thanks - sorry.” Dean rubs the back of his neck with his other hand. “Some fans caught me sneaking in here, and wanted a selfie.”

“Oh,” Castiel says for lack of anything better to say.

Dean tips back his cup, his expression falling into pure bliss. “Christ, that’s so much better when I’m not hungover.”

Castiel stares. “You’re drinking that with all your capacities intact?”

“Ain’t no better way to enjoy pie,” Dean says, grinning widely.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “That’s not pie.”

“It’s as close as I’m gonna get at eight in the morning on a Thursday,” Dean says with a shrug.

Silence falls between them, and Castiel can’t help glancing over Dean’s shoulder, tentatively scanning for the people who caught his attention earlier. Plenty more would have approached Dean if he didn’t have Jo’s latte waiting for him; Castiel would bet his job on it.

Dean is a celebrity.

Castiel is a grad student who can’t even afford to support a guinea pig on his stipend and café salary.

After a long beat, Dean asks, a touch hesitantly, “So, what’ve you been up to?”

Stalking you on the internet.

“Nothing,” Castiel lies. At the slight fall in Dean’s expression, he adds, “I cleaned my kitchen over the weekend.”

Dean chuckles. “You’re a weird dude, you know that?”

Hurt, Castiel takes a step back. Jo probably needs him for… something.

“Not in a bad way!” Dean says quickly. “Shit,” he swears under his breath, “please don’t stop giving me coffee.”

Castiel hesitates. “Why is it weird that I cleaned my kitchen?” He frowns. “I suppose you employ someone to do that for you.”

Dean seesaws his free hand back and forth as he sips at his latte. “Not always,” he lowers his voice, “I actually like cleaning - it helps me relax and shit. There’s nothing like blasting some tunes and scrubbing out that stain on the counter that’s been annoying you forever.”

Castiel lowers his voice too. “Is this a secret?”

Dean grimaces. “Not really. But, you know, it’s one of those omega things.”

Castiel doesn’t know. Well, he knows it is a stereotypical omega trait to like housework, but he has no idea why Dean would whisper it in a back alley like he’s confessing to defrauding an elderly relative. “And that is bad because…?”

Dean takes a long pull from his cup. “I don’t want to hammer the omega thing home too hard, alright?”

“But you are an omega,” Castiel says, feeling a little stupid for saying it out loud.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, “but if I lean into it, I’ll stop getting alpha roles.”

“You only want to play alphas?” Castiel asks curiously.

Dean’s mouth twists. “They’re the better parts. Omegas are always the damsels in distress or get killed off first for the plot.”

“I’m sure not all films are like that,” Castiel says. God knows, Anna made him sit through enough films with an omega protagonist that did not fit the typical romantic comedy restrictions.

“Most.”

“The last movie I saw,” Castiel says, hesitant because Dean must know more about this than him, “my sister recommended it, it had an omega lead who led a team of paranormal investigators. A sort of horror-comedy.”

Dean’s face loses some of its hostility. Almost intrigued, he asks gruffly, “D’you know who wrote it?”

“Not off the top of my head.” Castiel pulls out his phone to look it up. He reads aloud, “Ghostfacers, directed by Ed Zeddmore, written by Harry Spangler. Starred Maggie Zeddmore and Alan Corbett.” He pauses, trying to remember the details. “I think they both were omegas. I’m sure there are more films like Ghostfacers out there for you to make.”

Dean sips at his latte. “A few. None with big enough names attached to really get on my radar.”

“Well, if you signed on, wouldn’t there be a big name attached?”

“Yeah,” Dean says in a tone that clearly conveys he’s thought of this possibility before. He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just - what if I take one of these roles, and it gets all this attention just ’cause I’m in it, and it flops?”

Castiel tilts his head. “That would hardly be your fault. Most failed films are hardly the work of one person. Usually, it’s a combination of a bad story, bad production, and bad acting.” He levels Dean an appraising look. “Right off the bat, you control two of those elements - pick a good script and act as well as you always have.”

Dean blinks. “You’ve seen my stuff?”

Castiel’s brow furrows. “I thought I already said I knew who you were?”

“Yeah, but,” Dean says, his voice petering off with embarrassment, “that didn’t mean you liked my movies.”

“The majority of America liked your last movie, Dean,” Castiel says dryly. “Either that, or you have a very hardworking and wealthy mother who poured a hundred million dollars into ticket sales.”

“I mean, Mom’s a fan, but not that big of a fan,” Dean says, chuckling. “I’m pretty sure she’d rather get a twenty-minute call from yours truly than sit through a two-hour flick with my name on the poster.”

Castiel hands over his phone. “Here,” he says, tilting it so Dean can see the summary of Ghostfacers.

Dean brightens as he reads through it. “The Alpha dies first?”

“He thought he could deal with the ghost on his own.”

“Typical alpha macho,” Dean snorts. His head snaps up as he gives the phone back. “No offense.”

“No offense taken,” Castiel says easily. “With my lifestyle, posturing is a waste of time. I’ve long ago resigned myself to not being the primary breadwinner in any future household.”

“Really?”

Castiel throws him a look. “I’m in academia, Dean. Tenure is hardly a guarantee. Even so, there isn’t a wealth of money out there for ethnomusicology grants.”

Dean tips his head in acknowledgement. “It’s awful big of you.”

“Just logical,” Castiel says evenly. “It shrinks my dating pool considerably, but I’d rather do what I love than compromise that much for any potential partner.”

Dean inhales a deep breath, his eyes unfathomable. “I get that.”

“If it means I can’t afford to mate a house-omega, I’ll just have to keep cleaning my kitchen myself,” Castiel finishes with a shrug.

Dean grins. “I mean, if you spot me a six pack and don’t tell my trainer about it, I’ll clean your kitchen.”

Castiel turns bright red. He can’t bring himself to respond to that offer, so he changes the subject.

* * *

Castiel doesn’t even bother pretending to protest as Jo barges into the kitchen, the telltale scent of sugary apples wafting around her like a palpable shield. Castiel already set himself for heartbreak where Dean Winchester is concerned. He might as well take advantage of every interaction he has left.

He went to sleep late last night, watching one of Dean’s earlier movies. He was slimmer and younger, but he still shone with his signature charisma and talent. For the first time since Castiel started the morning shift at Hunter’s Café, he snoozed his alarm.

Hurrying through his morning routine, Castiel couldn’t help resenting Dean just a little. If only Dean hadn’t chosen a profession where his literal job is to be whatever his audience wants him to be.

As Castiel pushes open the door, Dean is waiting outside. Dark sunglasses shield his green eyes, and a violet bruise blooms over his left eyebrow. As the door slams shut behind Castiel, Dean winces. His left hand holds a half-empty paper container of french fries.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says. “You don’t look good.”

“Tell me about it,” Dean says darkly. “Gimme.”

Castiel pauses. “Did your hangover eliminate your manners?”

Dean flushes bright red. “No,” he mutters. “Sorry, Cas. I just feel like shit.”

“You look like shit,” Castiel says frankly as he hands it over.

“Thanks,” Deans says, his voice sour as old lemons. “I told Charlie tequila shots before Monopoly was a bad idea, but did anyone listen to me?” He gestures to his face. “Next thing I know, Jo’s throwing Charlie’s bag of DnD dice at my head.”

“You got that playing Monopoly? Wait, Jo did this to you?” he demands, gesturing to the cafe behind him. “Jo Harvelle?”

Dean just glares over the rim of his coffee cup. “Yeah, Katniss got me good.”

“God, why?”

One corner of Dean’s mouth lifts in a distinctly smug smirk. “’Cause she was going bankrupt, and she had to sell her last property to me.”

“So this was because of Monopoly,” Castiel says dubiously. In his experience, a board game has never led to actual violence.

Dean shrugs. “Game nights get intense. Why do you think I’m always bangin’ down your door the morning after?”

Castiel can’t believe it. “You’ve been getting this drunk at a game night? Every time?”

“So what?” Dean shoves four french fries in his mouth. “Whaddya think I was doin’?”

“Partying?” he suggests.

Dean snorts. “Maybe six years ago when I was doing B-level flicks and trying to meet as many people as I could. Now I have a back-to-back shooting schedule and hangovers if I don’t pace myself.”

Castiel watches Dean polish off his fries at a truly impressive and horrifying speed. He can’t help asking, “Why was Jo at your game night?”

“’Cause she’s a menace who knows how to pick locks?” Dean heaves a weighty sigh. “I’ve known Jo since we were kids. She and her mom - who started Hunter’s Café - were my neighbors.”

“I had no idea.”

Dean gestures to the alley with a wry hand. “Jo likes to keep it under wraps.”

“I see why Jo keeps making those drinks for you,” Castiel says, nodding at the half-finished latte in Dean’s hand.

“You didn’t make it?” Dean says, and does he sound almost disappointed?

Castiel shakes his head. “Jo is keeping the recipe close to the chest.”

“Probably worried everyone’ll want one if they get the taste.” Dean tips the cup back.

Castiel can’t help his noise of disgust. At Dean’s sharp look, he says aloud, “She’s probably worried everyone will never come back if they try it.”

Dean’s laugh cuts off with a wince. He raises a hand to his head. “Christ, last night was a mistake.”

Castiel surreptitiously scents the air for a better gauge of how discomfited Dean really is, but, as always, all he gets is trash and fryer oil. “How are you doing? Apart from the injury, headache, and general hangover-related malaise.”

“Oh, apart from that?” Dean echoes mockingly, but his words lack any heat. He crams a few fries into his mouth. “I asked my agent to send me a few more scripts with omega roles,” he mutters.

Castiel smiles. “That’s great.”

Dean hums his agreement. “Hopefully, she’ll pick out a decent one, and I can get something set up for after Two for the Show wraps.”

“Is Two for the Show the reason for your diet?”

Dean huffs. “Yeah. I have a bunch of shirtless scenes, so that means three months with the diet coach from hell.”

Castiel makes a noise of sympathy. After a moment, he asks, “Is it worth it?”

Dean chews a fry, scowling between bites. “Not really,” he says in a low voice. “Sammy’s the farmers market maniac in the family.” Wistfully, he continues, “Give me a good cheeseburger deluxe every day for the rest of my life with a side of pie, and I’ll die a happy man.”

“I didn’t think apple pie came as a side.”

“Not for you, maybe,” Dean says with an obnoxiously loud slurp of his latte.

Castiel doesn’t bother holding back his smile.

Dean sighs, rubbing his temple with the heel of his hand. “It’s just like, I don’t look like a traditional omega, so I figured I might as well try for the alpha roles.” He swallows. “’S a win-win situation. I look the part and the characters are better - what’s the downside?”

Castiel cocks his head. “Other than your restricted diet and inadvisable levels of drinking?”

A humorless smile pulls at Dean's mouth. “Not pullin’ the punches this morning, huh?”

Castiel colors, his face heating with shame. “I’m sorry. I didn’t sleep well.” An inadequate excuse, but it’s not like he can tell Dean the real reason for his more uncharitable thoughts.

Castiel has never been one to lean into his alpha instincts. Possessiveness, aggression, arrogance - Castiel has had his (mostly regrettable) moments, but they hardly define his character. But over these past few weeks, he’s had to repeatedly tell himself that he can’t solve Dean’s problems. Dean is a wildly successful adult with millions of fans, while Castiel can’t even handle Hunter Cafe's front counter during the morning rush.

Dean would hardly welcome a nobody little alpha telling him to just… do what he wants and damn the consequences because he deserves to be happy with his life and his work.

Dean plucks out the rest of his fries and balls the wrapper against his hip. He lobs it in the dumpster. “No, I get it. I’m complaining about things that most people would kill to have.” He glances towards the mouth of the alley, his mouth set in a thin line.

But before Dean can leave, Castiel says quickly, “That’s not the way I see it. Your specific frustrations aren’t universal, but hardly anyone’s are. Society is inherently unfair, and it’s understandable to be angry about it.”

God knows Castiel railed enough about the unfairness of Dean Winchester to Gabriel enough over the past few weeks.

Even now, hungover and bruised, Dean is beautiful.

Castiel steels himself. “And, for what it’s worth, I don’t think not looking like a typical omega is a bad thing.”

Dean turns to him in surprise, and Castiel would give up that free sandwich Jo offered him to be able to scent what exactly Dean is feeling. But, after a second that stretches into an eternity, all Dean gives him is a quiet, “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel nods, chastised by Dean’s reaction. “I should get back to work,” he says awkwardly.

Dean mutters something that might be a swear underneath his breath. Raising his voice, he says, his tone apologetic, “’Course. Sorry for keeping you.”

Castiel shakes his head. “It’s alright. I,” he pauses, “always enjoy talking to you.”

Dean’s mouth lifts into a small smile, and it’s like the sun rising through the early morning fog. “You too, man.”

* * *

After his next shift, Castiel asks Jo to show him how to make Dean’s apple pie latte.

Castiel’s first attempt is a disaster. He burns the espresso and adds too much nutmeg. Jo makes him try it anyway, as a non-monetary payment for her time. As Castiel gags, a smirking Jo dumps the bitter, weirdly savory mess down the sink.

“Passable,” Jo declares at Castiel’s second try. “You need more of the apple concentrate, though.”

“It’ll be too strong,” Castiel protests even as he shakes more powder in and gives it a stir. He hands it back to Jo for evaluation.

“You could barely taste it!” Jo says. She raises it to her lips. “Mm, that’s the stuff.”

“It is?” Castiel asks hopefully.

Jo nods and pushes the cup towards him. “That’s what it’s supposed to taste like.”

Castiel frowns as the overly sweet apples hit his tongue. He can barely taste the coffee underneath all the other layers.

“Trust me,” Jo says, flipping her hair behind her shoulder as she sets Castiel up for a third cup. “Your scent’s getting in the way, but it tastes exactly like an apple pie.”

“My scent?” Castiel echoes, baffled.

Jo throws him a look as she pushes a clean coffee cup into his hands. “Yeah, you already smell, I dunno, crisp but sweet? A little like apples. Makes you think the latte dials it up to eleven when it’s more like a nine for everyone else.”

Castiel hadn’t thought to put those pieces together, but it makes an astonishing amount of sense.

He brings his last apple pie latte home to Gabriel, and his cousin makes him write down, step by step, how to make it. In between actual licks into the cup to get the dregs, Gabriel swears to visit him at Hunter’s Café more often.

When Jo next ducks her head into the kitchen to tell Castiel that Dean will swing by in fifteen minutes, Castiel gets to work. He awkwardly sidles behind the front counter and maneuvers around Ruby and Kevin, nearly knocking Kevin’s elbow as Kevin attempts some elaborate leaf pattern.

Castiel draws a rudimentary apple on top of Dean’s latte, and if it looks more like a misshapen mango, nobody will see it but Dean.

For the first time, Castiel heads out to wait for Dean at the mouth of the alley.

Dean doesn’t keep him in suspense for long. He makes his way down the street, shoulders hunched, and head bowed. Gaze fixed on the dirty sidewalk, Dean doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as he turns the corner.

Dean isn’t even wearing sunglasses or a hat to hide his face, but everyone walks straight past him.

It’s the most riveting performance Castiel has ever seen.

A few steps away, Dean catches sight of him, and it’s like some magic switch is flipped on, and he is Dean Winchester again.

Smiling brightly, he jogs the rest of the distance and follows Castiel as he slinks further back into the alley. Dean wrinkles his nose as they get closer to the dumpsters and the smell of an entire rancid fast food menu hits him. “Hey, Cas,” he says as he takes his latte. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” Castiel says, tipping his head.

Dean stares down oddly at the demented pear and takes a sip. Face going slack with a bliss Castiel doesn’t even need to smell, Dean groans.

Castiel freezes and sends up a silent prayer of thanks for the apron covering his lower half over his pants. “It’s good?” he tries futilely because Dean is clearly beyond speech.

Dean just gives him a thumbs up as he lowers the cup. He licks his lips, chasing the taste, and Castiel has seen pornography less graphic.

“I might have to tip Jo this time too,” Dean says, staring at the latte in his hand in wonder.

Castiel coughs. “I - I made this one, actually.”

Dean chokes on his next mouthful. “Are you serious?”

Castiel nods because if he opens his mouth he’s not sure what exactly will come out. Probably something highly embarrassing.

“This is the best one I’ve ever had,” Dean swears.

Castiel’s whole body heats with the force of his blush. “Thank you. I asked Jo how to make it, since it seems like I’ve taken over your delivery duties.”

Dean grins. “You’re a lot more fun than Jo,” he says lightly, “so I’m not complainin’.”

Castiel didn’t think he could get any redder, but here he is.

After an awkward beat, Dean says, “I think I found my next movie.”

“Really?”

Dean shrugs, but his eyes glimmer with anticipation. “It’s a World War II biopic about an omega who sneaks into the army, disguises himself as an alpha, and rescues a unit trapped behind enemy lines.” He taps his fingers against the side of his half-empty cup. “A little on the nose, but the script is good.”

“It sounds very promising,” Castiel agrees.

“Their biggest problem was the budget - historical pics aren’t cheap. But they think if I sign on early, they can leverage my name with the studio.” He smiles shyly. “Get the movie done right.”

“That’s fantastic,” Castiel says, a delightful warmth filling his chest - still a pale reflection of Dean’s excitement.

“Thanks to you.”

Castiel’s eyes widen in surprise. “Me?”

Dean throws him a funny look. “Yeah, you. You told me to get my head outta my ass and movies I actually like doing-”

“Not in so many words-” Castiel interjects, alarmed.

“’Cause the whole point of doing these stupid macho alpha flicks was so I could get the clout and money to do the stuff I actually liked,” Dean continues. “And I kept thinking, can’t do it yet, not there yet, until some rando tells me, fuck yeah you can.”

“I definitely didn’t say that-”

“It was implied,” Dean says blithely, waving off his protests. “So I figured, if this dude who doesn’t know me from Adam-”

“I’ve seen several of your films.”

“- tells me to go for it - it being something I’d thought of doing for years - is there any real reason why I shouldn’t?”

Castiel just stares at him, stunned.

Dean beams. “I’ve got a meeting with the director next week.”

“That’s wonderful,” Castiel says sincerely.

“Anyway, yeah, it’s partially thanks to you,” Dean says, tipping his latte in Castiel’s direction. “I also want to talk about romantic B-plot since I think it’s stupid.” He shakes his head, scoffing. “True mates, bullshit.”

“You think true mates are bullshit?”

As far as Castiel saw online, Dean’s never spoken on the record about true mates or any mates at all. Entertainment news sources reported rumors about him and a one-named alpha singer, Amara, early in his career, which he denounced thoroughly. A few months later, someone published revealing photos of him and an older alpha actor, Fergus Crowley. When asked about it, Dean refused to give details.

Dean makes a face. After a pause, he says, “My parents said they were true mates, but it wasn’t… pretty. No Hollywood romance between them.”

“I’m sorry.”

“’S fine,” Dean says in a tone that clearly says it isn’t. “Whenever Dad took off for a few days, I’d get to watch as many movies as I wanted, and - well, the rest is history.”

“I don’t know anyone who’s found their true mate,” Castiel says. His parents had a cold, distant marriage. A few times over the years, he wasn’t sure his mother even liked his father’s scent. Anna happily mated another omega last year, and Gabriel avoids all romantic entanglements like the black plague.

Castiel’s dating history can best be described as dismal. During his last visit to his pediatrician, his doctor called him a “late bloomer” which Castiel eventually realized just meant socially awkward. In the decade since, Castiel’s slept with a grand total of three people. And, to his supreme regret, none of them managed to bring his rusty people skills up to par.

But, in college, Castiel found music and his calling. And all his faults didn’t matter nearly as much.

In the crowd of a concert, people are so far outside the ordinary conditions of life, and so conscious of the fact, that they free themselves from individual concerns and devote themselves wholly to the collective. All their fury, their joy, their hunger for what they can’t have, is sublimated into the music.

Castiel has never felt more connected to humanity than in the middle of a crowd.

Truthfully, none of his past relationships ever measured up. None of his past partners ever managed to get Castiel out of his own head - not like the music.

Castiel shakes his head ruefully. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a true mate even if I had one.”

“Have a lot of super sappy sex with the lights on?” Dean offers, laughing.

Castiel frowns. “I wasn’t aware that kind of intercourse was restricted to true mates. I’ve done that in the past since I've always shared an emotional connection with the people I've slept with.”

“Oh,” Dean says, reddening. “Were you mated? Jo didn’t say.”

Inordinately pleased that Dean had asked Jo about him, Castiel shakes his head. “No, I’ve never been mated.”

Dean drains his latte. Swallowing, he says, “Me neither.” He throws the cup in the open dumpster and turns back to Castiel. “I haven’t dated in a while, actually,” he says in a low voice. “Couldn’t risk being seen with an alpha and remind everyone of what I’m not.”

Castiel narrows his eyes. “Surely people can’t be that close-minded.”

“’Course they can. Most are,” Dean says, his voice full of assurance.

Castiel’s mouth twists. “That sounds like a negativity bias to me.”

“Huh?”

“Negative information sticks with us longer and more strongly than any positive counterpart,” Castiel says with a shrug. “It’s something I always keep in mind when reading my course reviews after the semester is over.”

“So," Dean says, eyes dancing, "you can take the nerd out of the classroom, but you can’t take the classroom out of the nerd, huh?”

Castiel smiles wryly. “Trust me, I’ve tried.”

Dean laughs. “Look,” he starts, his expression turning a fraction more serious. “I might be fucking up a good thing here, but do you want to go to a Lez Zeppelin show next week?”

Castiel’s mouth falls open as Dean reaches out and pulls out his phone to show him a ticket confirmation email.

“It’s no big if you don’t want to,” Dean says awkwardly into the silence.

“I - I do,” Castiel says, stumbling over the words. “You do?”

“Uh,” Dean throws him a bemused look, “Yeah? I bought the tickets, dude.”

“I’m just surprised,” Castiel says honestly.

Dean stares at him. “This is seriously comin’ out of nowhere for you?”

“A little,” Castiel says defensively.

“Seriously?”

Castiel shrugs helplessly. “You’re … you. You’re famous. Why would you ask me?”

“Because I like you?” Dean says, nonplussed. “You’re nice in a way a lot of the alphas I know aren’t, and,” he breaks off, reddening, “you said you didn’t mind that I didn’t fit in with other omegas, looks-wise-”

“I don’t,” Castiel interrupts. “I think you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen.”

Dean gapes. “Did you seriously -” he breaks off, apparently unable to voice the rest of his thought. His face turns an impressive shade of crimson.

Castiel shoves his hands in his pockets. “Should I not have said that?” he asks, brow furrowing. This can’t be the first time Dean has been complimented on his looks. As Castiel understands, good looks are one of the main precursors to acceptance in Hollywood.

“No - I mean, maybe - never mind,” Dean fumbles, more out of sorts than Castiel has ever seen him. “It’s that nobody just out and says that, even to me.”

“I just did.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Dean says, but he’s smiling. “You should look in the mirror sometime, though.” He winks, and Castiel’s brain nearly fritzes out. “So that’s a yes?”

Castiel nods, an all-encompassing warmth filling his chest and exploding out to the tips of his fingers and toes. “I’d love to.”

“It’s a date.”

Read Part II here!

#destiel fanfic #fanfic #destiel #profoundnet #rae writes fic #alpha castiel #omega dean winchester #alpha beta omega dynamics #celebrity dean winchester #barista castiel #professor castiel #the original apple pie latte

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