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aliwritex · 1 day ago

Note

my dirtt thoughts are virgin!isack × reader where he's obssessed with them but so shy

i don’t love this but i do love the idea. i just felt like i didn’t do it right, im still trying to figure him out.

virgin!isack thoughts

He wasn’t going to say anything when you started seeing each other, he was hoping to lie his way out of that one, just ignoring, if it were to happen with you he would just let you think he was terrible. There was no chance he would tell you he was a virgin.

Or that’s what he thought, till you were making out on your couch after a dinner date and his hands had started shaking. You tried to ignore it, you didn’t want to make him feel ashamed but you could tell there was something up.

“Isack? What’s wrong?” you looked down at him with his face in your hands.

“Nothing”

“Isack, you're shaking.” your hands reached around your waist, taking his. “Maybe we should do something else”

“No, no” he said, his accent thick as he tried kissing you again.

“I can’t do this when you’re in this state, c’mon. Wanna talk? Tell me something?” you had his hands in yours, caressing them with your thumbs.

“Yes” he sounded defeated, his head hanging low, “I didn’t want to say anything cause it’s so embarrassing but I guess I should. I’m a virgin” he blurted out.

“That’s okay, that’s not something to be embarrassed about. Do you actually want to do this?”

“I do. I want you. But I don’t think I can…” he trailed off, looking down at his lap and clearing his throat “I’m just not gonna be able to… at least not tonight, I think I killed the vibe. I’m sorry” he mumbled.

“It’s okay, Isack.” you took his face in your hands, making him look back up at you. “Do you want to stay over? It’s late to drive back alone.”

Isack agreed and slept over and since that night you had somewhat of an established relationship. You started seeing each other more and not only dates.

The problem was, being around you all the time Isack was starting to lose his mind. Anytime he was at your place you would drive him insane — changing in front of him, kissing him for way too long just to pull away after, sleeping way too close and waking up with your ass right to his crotch.

And you weren’t making a move. You told yourself you’d be patient, let him decide when he was ready. But Isack was waiting for that move. He didn’t have the confidence to come up to you. Anytime you kissed or anytime you cuddled his hands would be so polite, so you just followed his lead.

That was until one morning at your place, you woke up as the little spoon, his morning hardness pressing right against your thighs. You shuffled back towards him, letting your curiosity take over. He wasn’t completely hard, you could tell by the way it pressed against your ass when you moved, but just to know that he was sleeping in your bed with a hard on and holding you was making your blood rush south. It wasn’t just that, though. You could also feel his body against yours, all his muscles pressing behind you — his chest, his thighs and his thick arms wrapped around you.

“Isack” you called gently, brushing your palm on his arm to wake him. He just hummed, his voice deep and his accent popping out even when he wasn’t speaking. You kept rubbing his arm, starting to twist your body around to face him. He twitched a bit but still hadn’t woken up so you started peppering his face with kisses. “Isa, wake up” you told him softly.

His face scrunched up, another hum sounding through his throat. When he came to his senses and realized what was happening his eyes shot open. “Merde” he sighed, “sorry, I- I didn’t know” he started to pull away from you, his hands moving to cover himself up.

“It’s okay” you smiled at him, resting a hand on his face to help him calm down. “Can I help?”

His eyes widened again, his mouth parting but his words only came out moments later, a simple “Yes”.

“Yeah? You sure?” you asked, resting your hands on his covered chest.

He just nodded, stealing a kiss from your lips. You smiled at his eagerness and relaxed your mouth, letting him kiss you deeper. He hugged you closer, letting his hand meet the back of your neck. You started lowering your hands, your palms feeling his chest and his stomach through his shirt, till they reached his shorts.

“On your back” you guided gently, pulling away from his kiss to get him settled. “Take this off” your voice was soft and somewhat sultry as you talked him through the steps.

Once his shirt was off you ran a finger right down his middle, between his pecks down to his bellybutton as you kissed his neck. It made him shiver and smile. Your lips were brushing against his neck, going over the spots that you had already learned were sensitive, kissing and breathing against the skin to drive him crazy. His breath was already shaking and you had barely done anything to him.

“Gonna touch you now” you whispered, just to make sure he was okay and he nodded.

Your hand went past the band of his shorts, no underwear in your way, so your palm met his warm shaft immediately. His breathing faltered a little as soon as you touched him, but your lips moved back to his, calming his nerves as your hand wrapped around his shaft. You couldn’t help but smile at his reactions, so true and raw, at any of your movements. Your hand pumped him slowly, a couple times just to get him ready, you didn’t want to give him a half-assed dry hand job for his first experience, you wanted to make him absolutely lose it.

So that’s why your hand was quickly back on his chest, caressing his muscles. You threw a leg over his hip, moving to straddle him. He looked up at you, trying to hold back a smile as his hands met your hips.

“No need to be shy” you teased, moving his hands to hold you under your top as you folded over his body, bending to kiss him and shuffling your hips to be sat right on top of him. He let out a high pitched sigh, making himself blush and you both chuckled. He shook his head, moving his hands to cover his face. “No, no” you chuckled, pulling his hands away from his face, “here,” you guided them back to your hips.

You took off your shirt, watching his reaction – his lips curling up as you revealed your bare chest. You kissed up your way to his face, moving from his chest to his neck, leaving a kiss right behind his ear before meeting his lips. You took his hands in yours, holding them to your hips as you started moving them, back and forth.

“Can I touch?” he asked shyly.

“Of course.” You took your hands to his face, holding as you kissed him, feeling his hands run up your body till they reached your chest. His long fingers wrapped around your boobs, your nipples poking his palms as he squeezed them, making you smile against his lips. “Like them? " you teased while moving your hips.

“They feel great,” he chuckled, “they always look so good, I’ve always wanted to touch” he confessed shyly.

“You could’ve just asked, Isa. Just ask, that’s how it works”

“Can you fuck me, then?” he asked almost desperately, making you chuckle.

“Yeah,” you nodded “I can”

You shuffled off his lap, making him groan as your ass dragged against him. You managed to take off your tiny shorts and your underwear while still lying on the bed. His hands reached back for you, wrapping around your waist and pulling you back on top.

“No, here, let me teach you.” you stayed on your back, guiding him to move till he was hovering you. His arms looked insane by the sides of your head, like they could crush you. Your hands pushed his shorts down till he was able to completely get rid of them, then it was just his hard cock hanging down, brushing your stomach. “Give me your hand”

You guided his hand between your legs, taking his fingers between your lips, his jaw dropped when he felt your cunt, wet and needy. You made sure that he spread your wetness around, getting you ready for him. Then you took his cock in your hand, while he watched the entire thing, brushing his tip between your lips a couple times. Your actions made you both sigh in relief, smiling till his tip met your hole.

“You okay?” you asked and he nodded. So you took your other hand to his ass, pushing him in. A dragged moan left his lips till he bottomed out, when he let his body fall on top of yours. You caressed his hair, kissing his neck and face as you waited for him to come back to himself. “Feel good?” you whispered after a while and he groaned, making you smile.

“Trop bon” he whispered back.

“You can move whenever you want, Isa. Take your time” you whispered to his ear.

He lifted his face from your shoulder looking at you for a second before kissing you again. He lifted his hips and slowly pushed in again, his breath shaking. You couldn’t stop smiling at him, you just wanted him to feel good.

His first movements were too slow and had no pace but you were still caressing him, kissing his face and with your hand on his ass guiding his hips, Isack picked up a pace. He was still slow but steadier, deeper, filling you up perfectly. He was trying to hold back moans, you could tell, but that was something you would work on some other time, that morning you just wanted him to feel good.

“I can’t” he whispered, accent thick, heavy in his voice “I’m gonna- fuck- putain” he sighed, dropping his head to your shoulder again.

Your hand ran through his hair again, “It’s okay, let it go, darling”

His body tensed, hips stuttering as he groaned against your neck. You held him close, one arm wrapped around his neck, nails running up and down his scalp, the other pressing his ass further, making him cum deep inside you. His breath was warm and shaky on your neck as he let himself go, his body collapsing on top of yours.

“‘M sorry” he mumbled against your neck after a moment “I didn’t mean for it to be so fast”

“It’s okay, Isack. I actually expected this to go a lot worse” you assured him, a soft chuckle leaving your lips.

“Is it okay that I- uhm, inside?” he worried, making you chuckle more.

“Isa, if there was anything I didn’t like I would’ve told you, and you should always do the same. Just communicate, yeah?” you told him calmly and he nodded “Now, you can stay as long as you like but we should probably eat something in a bit”

He nodded, “can we go have breakfast somewhere?”

“I’d love that”

#isack hadjar smut #isack hadjar x reader #isack hadjar #a writes

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wetdeadroses · 2 days ago

Text

Found: Hat

surely, the hat would blow away if you left it here. there was no way it was abandoned, either. every little piece of it appeared to be lovingly cared for: shiny red beads and a pair of opposing faces atop the brim, which was neatly stitched and, aside from a loose thread or two, unfrayed. the leather strap might have seen better days, but it only went to show how often the owner wore it. in short, this hat’s wearer must be sorely missing it now. you nodded to yourself with determination. you’ll just have to do a little sleuthing. it can’t be that hard, right? or, a love story told through ace's lost hat.

tags: portgas d. ace x civilian!f!reader, wingman!marco, alcohol use, lots of steamy kissing at the end, portgas d. ace is so smooth, suggestive undertones. please respect this content warning!

wc: 5.8k

read on AO3, if you prefer

seated in the sand, ace basked in the sunshine alongside his closest friends and crewmates. he didn’t often get the chance to take in the sights and just relax on an island, and he knew he would have to leave soon, so every moment counted. he was grateful for these rare moments where there wasn’t a “next”; there was just now.

“i haven’t seen the sea from this side of the land in ages,” thatch said. “forgot how hot it can get, too.”

ace soaked up the heat that the sun shared with him as if it were his energy source. he laid back, slipping his hat off to sense its rays on his eyelids, the warmth seeping through his skin. “how many other people out there do you think are doing this same thing?”

“no idea.”

ace pondered the thought a bit longer. how many were enjoying the same beautiful day as he? were they also smiling at the sun? something about it made him feel connected to the world in a way he hadn’t noticed before.

“we should go grab a bite to eat before too long,” marco said as he stood up. “i’ll bet the rest of the crew is almost done stocking up the ship.”

ace drank in the beach view once more before joining his friends on the walk into town. he had been walking for what had only felt like a moment when he noticed his head and shoulders felt particularly exposed. ace’s heart nearly stopped in his chest as he grasped at the air above his hair.

“ace?” thatch called out to him, noting ace’s quizzical expression.

“my hat’s gone.”

***

the sand was a warm welcome beneath your feet. it was a joy to be beside the sea today, and something in the air beyond the salty aroma felt especially radiant.

you had been out running errands today when you suddenly found a break in your schedule, which brought you to the beach. it wasn’t all too often you were on this side of town, so you were making the best of this chance. the sun kissed and nipped at your cheeks, and you regretted not having prepared for this little detour. you needed to find some shade soon.

towards the end of your walk, you stumbled upon a peculiar orange hat. there was no owner to be seen, at least not in the immediate vicinity. you scanned a bit further away, shielding your eyes from the sun with one hand. you spotted a group that had been sitting here moments ago and made to approach them, but a gust of wind blurred your vision. by the time you could focus back on the spot you’d seen them, they were gone.

you stared down at the hat, considering. surely, it would blow away if you left it here. there was no way this hat was abandoned, either. every little piece of it appeared to be lovingly cared for: shiny red beads atop the brim, which was neatly stitched and, aside from a loose thread or two, was unfrayed. the leather strap might have seen better days, but it only went to show how often the owner wore it. in short, this hat’s wearer must be sorely missing it now.

you nod to yourself with determination. you’ll just have to do a little sleuthing. it can’t be that hard, right?

how wrong you were. you’d just spent the last hour walking up and down the streets, scanning for anything that would remind you of the group of people you’d seen or for any poor souls who looked like they might be looking for this hat. it was so bright it stood out as a beacon, so you had initially hoped it would do all the work for you.

eventually, you resigned yourself to checking with nearby local businesses that might have seen the owner of the orange hat. after a few statements of “sorry, i haven’t seen that hat before,” you finally caught a clue, although it wasn’t necessarily what you were expecting.

at the local diner that you frequented, you approached the owner with the hat in your hands. the owner appeared slightly disheveled, but you supposed it could have been a busy day.

“i’m looking for the owner of this hat. have you seen someone wearing it before?”

his jaw clenched as he eyed it. “i hope i never see the guy again, kid.”

your eyes widened. “why’s that?”

the restaurant owner let out a long, exasperated breath as he lifted the bat he kept behind the counter for safety. “let’s just say he owes me. you find him; you let him know he has a tab to close, alright?”

you nodded, although you weren’t so sure you would be any help. the way it's looking right now, you might be stuck with this hat for a while.

***

“you just have to retrace your steps. chances are, someone found it, and you’ll cross paths somehow.”

ace bit back a cringe as he reflected on his day and his unfortunate first stop. sure, thatch was probably right about retracing his steps and all that, but did that mean he’d have to do this?

he squared his shoulders as he stood outside the entrance to the diner; he’d been a… well, “patron” would only be the right word if he’d actually paid for his meal. hopefully, he had the right amount of cash to get some information and avoid a confrontation.

ace stepped through the doors, a bell ringing to signal his entrance. within seconds, the shop owner was climbing over the counter, baseball bat in hand.

“i never thought you’d have the nerve to show your lousy face here again.”

ace raised his hands, a meager effort at peace. “i have money!”

“you should have said that first, kid.” the man lowered the bat.

ace made his way over to the counter, reaching for his wallet. “you wouldn’t have happened to see a bright orange hat lying around, would you?”

“matter of fact, i have. one of my regulars stopped in with it, looking for you.” the shop owner dug through a pile of receipts in search of ace’s bill.

“do you know where they might be right now?” ace took a slinky, unassuming step backward, one eye on the door.

“haven’t the faintest. but you’ll know her when you see her. about yay-high,” he motioned with a hand, “awful sweet, cute as a button.” the shop owner smoothed out the ticket and read the price, relieved to have this over with.

by the time he looked up, the bell on the front door had rung, and ace was nowhere to be found.

***

your wandering continued fruitlessly. you may as well have been a door-to-door salesperson with how methodical your approach had become - and with the number of times you’ve heard the word “no.”

as you snaked through town, you decided it must be time to take a break. along the outskirts of the market street, you elected to sit on a nearby bench and collect your thoughts.

you carefully strung the hat around your neck, its soft material resting on your back. it wasn’t necessarily on display in its new position, but it was better than holding it in your hands like you had all this time.

it occurred to you while you sat that the mysterious hat owner was possibly a traveler. you sighed, hoping that he hadn’t left his hat behind for you to tend to forever. you began to regret taking on such a responsibility. this was like finding a needle in a haystack.

“hey!” a tiny voice shouted from behind you. “i know that hat!”

your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as you spun around. a little girl, possibly no older than 8, holding a plushie, was running up to you, pointing at the hat on your back.

“you do?” you asked. “can you tell me about who it belongs to?”

the girl ran around, standing before you. she nodded eagerly, smiling with all her teeth. “of course i can! he’s my hero!”

grinning back at her, you leaned in, full of curiosity. “he is?”

“uhhuh! just this morning my evil neighbor stole my fishie plushie and pushed me on the ground.” she motioned her neighbor’s action with extra special dramatic effect, plushie flopping around. “but a big, strong guy came over and saved my fishie! and he helped fix my knee, too!” she pointed at her knee, adorned with a carefully placed bandage, likely covering a scrape.

you can’t help but feel a little warm and fuzzy inside at the thought of this faceless man as the savior to this girl. a diner and dasher, and a hero to children? you had more questions than answers at this point, and craved the answers with renewed passion.

“how nice of him to help you and your fishie. i’m glad you’re both ok!” the girl held her fishie closer with a warm embrace. “can you tell me anything else about the man who helped you? he seems to have misplaced his hat, and i’ve been trying to find him so i can give it back.”

“his name’s ace!”

“ace, huh?” you tested it on your lips. you barely knew anything about him, yet it seemed to fit him well.

“mmhmm! and he has a tattoo on his arm, too. i’ll draw it for you!” the girl knelt on the dirt road and drew a series of letters on the ground, with one crossed out - ASCE. “i didn’t spell it wrong. that’s exactly what it says.”

“i wonder what it means!”

“didn’t ask,” the girl said. “how are you gonna find ace?”

it was certainly helpful to know ace’s name and some sort of defining characteristic about him, but that didn’t quite fix the issue at hand. “i’m not sure. if you were me, what would you do?”

the child furrowed her brow as she considered. “there’s always lots of people at the market! i can help you look, since i know him and all.”

“that sounds like a plan!” as you stood, you introduced yourself to the girl. “what’s your name?”

“it’s mimi!”

“it’s nice to meet you, mimi. let’s go find ace!”

you and mimi take a stroll through the market, scanning for any sign of ace. after about 30 minutes mimi began to slow down, her little legs clearly tired from all the events of her day. you decide to adjust your plan, buying a couple of snacks from a food stand and taking a seat toward the center of the market, right in the middle of the throngs of people.

“if we stay in one place, he might find us,” you told mimi as she gratefully chowed on the food you had given her.

you placed ace’s hat in clear view in hopes that if he did pass by, he would notice it. before long, someone did approach you, asking about the hat.

“i know someone who is missing that hat terribly,” the stranger said. he was a slightly older fellow, with fine blonde hair and glasses.

the man wasn’t threatening by any means, as a matter of fact he seemed a kind person; but you found yourself feeling a bit protective of ace’s property. you held it just a little more closely before glancing at mimi, who you noticed had fallen asleep with her head resting on your arm, clutching her dearest fishie.

“you know who owns this hat?” you asked with every ounce of practiced kindness, doing your best to smooth out any apprehension from your voice.

“ace is a close friend,” the man said, “and crewmate.”

“do you know where i can find him?” you asked. “or perhaps you can return it to him?” it stung a little to think you might never meet ace, but it was more important that his hat was returned. your curiosity, and, you admitted to yourself in the back of your mind, your enchantment, would have to take the back seat.

the man watched you carefully. you couldn’t explain why, but it felt a lot like he could hear your thoughts. he smiled softly as he spoke. “i can’t say where he is at the current moment, but i’ve got a feeling ace wouldn’t be able to accept his hat without the chance to thank the person who took care of it.”

you couldn’t help the sense of relief that overtook you. it was growing more and more difficult to ignore the rhythm in your chest at the prospect of meeting ace. in some strange way, you already knew him.

“i should probably walk mimi home,” you started, “but i can meet ace here at the market later.”

the man stuck one hand in his pocket, his smile growing bigger. “i can do you one better,” he said as he pulled out a piece of paper. “i’ve got his vivre card right here.” he ripped off a piece and held it out to you. “you know how these work?”

you beamed at the small scrap, watching it shift in the palm of your hand. “i do.”

“good,” the man said, turning away as he spoke. “tell him marco gave it to you-yoi.”

“thank you, marco!”

“don’t mention it.” marco waved a hand before disappearing into the crowd as swiftly as he had appeared.

***

ace wiped a hand down his face as he stood at the port, conflicted. the sun was beginning to set, and he’d had bad luck finding his hat. beyond the incredibly vague description he’d gotten of you at the restaurant, nobody he’d spoken to seemed to have seen you or the hat around.

in a last ditch effort, he decided to ask a few people at the port if they’d seen it. one person, a man pushing a cart full of food, had a scrap of insight for him. ace hoped it would be what he needed.

“that hat rings a bell,” the man said. “i saw a woman wearing it on her back at the market earlier today. she was with a little girl. they asked me about you. said i never saw you before.”

“can you tell me anything else about them? what did they look like? do you know where they are now?” ace could barely contain his excitement. he had limited time before he was supposed to report back, and time was of the essence. ace wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be on the island - they could leave tonight, even.

the man gave a few details about your and mimi’s appearances, and said the little girl must live in town. other than that, he had no idea. but it was more than enough for ace. the little girl sounded a lot like the one he’d met earlier, which gave him a rough idea of where to look. he quickly thanked the man and headed towards the center of the town. you had to be there somewhere.

moments later, ace passed by marco, who was headed back toward the port. he wore his most unassuming grin as ace approached.

“still haven’t found her, yoi?” marco asked. “she’s been looking for you.”

ace sputtered to a stop, his eyes wide. “you found my hat?”

marco leaned toward ace, patting a hand on his shoulder. “make sure to thank her real nicely, alright?”

marco walked away before ace could decipher his words. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he shouted at marco’s back.

“i think we’re gonna stick around here a bit longer,” marco called out. “the people here are one-of-a-kind.”

ace stood there, bewildered. what a load of help that was. obviously, marco was unwilling to divulge any spare details, so ace continued on his way, looking for his hat. for you.

***

the sun was drawing close to that broken line where the sky met the city, accented by the freshly lit torches of the main road. a warm glow painted the features of the streets, and you and your search partner cast tall shadows along the colorfully painted buildings.

mimi was, to put it lightly, disappointed that she wouldn’t get to see ace again. she had quite little energy left to protest with; however, as she was all but leaning on you to keep walking home.

once she successfully directed the two of you to her house – less talking, more vague hand motions – mimi grasped your hand firmly, a confident look in her eyes behind tired lids.

“you have to make sure you tell ace that i helped,” mimi said. “that i did it because he was so nice to me.”

you pat mimi’s head. she was an excellent companion to have at your side today. if not for her, you may have given up hope long before marco crossed your path.

“i promise. i’ll tell him all about everything you did to make sure he gets his hat back.” you smiled warmly. “i’m sure ace will be grateful.”

with that, mimi went home. once her front door had closed, and you were sure she was safe, you turned away, pulling ace’s vivre card out of your pocket. it would lead you the rest of the way. your pulse quickened with anticipation as you carefully watched the small scrap’s pull, following it with your steps.

***

ace stood where the once-lively market was. now, it was nothing but empty stands, and a few merchants loading their stock onto carts. the day had quickly met its end. how could he be sure you were still here?

he recalled that you were with the girl he met earlier, mimi. that clue could lead to some answers. it was far too late for mimi to still be up and about, but he could at least check out the place he met her. just in case.

the street corner where he’d found mimi was closer to the market than he remembered. of course, nobody was there. ace cursed marco for his vagueness. couldn’t he have at least told him where he should look? a general vicinity would have made this so much easier.

at this point, ace had to bet there wasn’t a single road in this entire town that he hadn’t scoured. he’d gone in circles countless times, and he had no more ideas to move forward. his feet started moving regardless. he had to keep trying, but couldn’t help but feel like this was a fruitless effort. ace didn’t even look up as he walked.

but that was only until he heard a conversation in the distance - no, that wasn’t a conversation. he could only isolate one voice.

“he has to be close by now. i better not have gone all this way for nothing,” the voice said.

ace turned around, his gaze lifting to search for its source. there you were, an oasis in a desert, and he’d been walking for miles, having nearly forgotten how long he’d gone without water. you were walking, yes, but your eyes were fixed on the palm of your hand, an admirable focus creasing your brow; his most prized possession resting safely around your neck. he’d found you.

the greeting ace had been rehearsing escaped him. he nearly choked on his breath when he tried to get your attention. “excuse me,” he called out, a hoarseness to his voice. he cleared his throat, fighting his heartbeat for composure. “i believe that hat belongs to me.”

your eyes widened as you turned towards him. your lips parted, but you couldn’t make out words. so you stood there, frozen, for only a second, but an hour’s worth of thoughts rushed through your head. you found it hard to believe this could be ace standing before you. he had begun to seem a fictional being since you found the hat on your shoulders.

as your body caught up to your mind, your hand jumped to your collar, tracing the strap of the hat you’d grown fond of by this point. you weren’t quite ready to relinquish it, you had to admit.

“are you ace?” you asked with a hint of hesitation.

ace often felt he had a conflicted relationship with his name. but to hear it from your lips was as if he had found out he had been saying it wrong this whole time; like it was different from the title he’d grown accustomed to. it was new, somehow, and he was drawn into that sensation.

he hated how much he understood what marco had told him now. he’d have to thank him later.

“that’s me.” he’d never been so sure of it.

you took in the presence of the man standing before you, at last. he was sunshine and a warm summer breeze with a broad, strong stance. you saw the tattoo on his arm, as mimi described. he looked every part the person you were told he was, but there was so much more there. you wanted to gaze at him until his sunshine blinded you. perhaps then you would know him as deeply as you wished in this moment.

“i hope you understand,” you started, “i’ve worked rather hard to find you, and i have some questions i’d like to ask, if that's alright.”

ace laughed. it sent a tickle up your spine. “i understand. can i buy you a drink?”

“i’d love a drink.” before you could think, you carefully removed ace’s hat.

you wondered if ace could read the hesitation in your features as he spoke. “please, hold onto it a bit longer. you’re certainly better at looking after it than i am, after all.”

truthfully, ace wanted to commit to memory the sight of you with his hat. he couldn’t think of a better sight.

you smiled shyly at him as you let the hat back down. “let’s get that drink, then.”

***

the saloon was about as lively as you’d expected for a random summer night - plenty noisy, but not necessarily jam-packed, either. the energy was lively, joyous, and there were countless smiles warming up the space.

you and ace were about halfway through your first drink, the awkwardness of introductions past, and you had calmed down enough to carry on a conversation without an underlying sense of giddiness. you wanted to believe your excitement had been from the day's exhaustion, but ace was a handsome man with a smile that left you breathless. it wasn’t easy to ignore.

“i believe you had some questions for me,” ace said, leaning toward you across the table you shared.

“i should hope you have answers,” you said, sipping your drink as you pondered what to ask about first. you smiled broadly, a knowing look on your face. “the owner of my favorite diner was quite disgruntled when i asked him about you.”

ace shrunk back into his seat, pursing his lips in feigned embarrassment. “i’m not hearing a question.”

you huffed a laugh. “what happened?”

“i have this sort of… tradition,” ace said, picking up his glass. “it’s silly, really. wherever i travel, i have to eat somewhere without paying.” he took a sip from his drink before continuing. “it’s something my brothers and i did when we were kids. i haven’t seen them since we were little, so it's a small way of keeping them here.”

you shook your head, your grin plastered to your face. “of course, you have a really good reason for it!”

“what do you mean?”

“it wasn’t adding up,” you explained. “of all the little things i learned about you today, that was the one that didn’t fit. so it can only make sense that you had a sentimental reason for it.”

ace’s face bloomed a faint pink as you spoke. he sat back up, resting his chin on one hand, full of curiosity. “what else did you learn about me?”

“you’re full of surprises. a hero to young children, insisting on directly thanking a stranger who found your hat.” you removed his hat, then placed it on ace’s head, leaning close to reach him. it completed the picture of him you had built up: a wonderful mystery with a bright orange hat.

ace’s cheeks flushed to a deeper shade of crimson as you took him in. he hadn’t expected you. he thought he was used to being seen and often identified, being a known whitebeard pirate. but nobody had looked at him like you did right now. he didn’t think he would be seen.

“mimi really wanted to find you as a way of thanking you for your help,” you said. “she made sure i didn’t give up.”

ace smiled, grateful for the renewed conversation. “i heard you were with a kid. i hoped it was her.”

“i only met her today. i’ll have to let her know i found you.”

“we can tell her together tomorrow,” ace said thoughtlessly. you smiled as you watched him squirm a little, realizing his words. “if you want to, that is.”

“i’d love to.”

the drinks began to flow as effortlessly as your conversation with ace. you could feel the heat of your buzz beneath your skin, the warmth drawing you closer to him.

a group of men entered the saloon, filling the space with their laughter and chatter. you identified one of them as marco, the one who gave you a piece of ace’s vivre card.

“there they are!” marco called out as he saw you and ace. he approached the table, crossing his arms as he took you in. “the woman of the hour, yoi. i can’t tell you how happy i am that you found ace’s hat.”

“hello, marco,” you greeted. “thank you again, for your help.”

ace’s eyes nearly popped out of his head as he watched your exchange. he knew marco had been up to no good when he saw him earlier. “what did you do?”

“relax, ace. i just pointed her in the right direction,” marco explained coyly. “isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

you nodded your confirmation, a bit bashful at marco’s flirtatiousness. ace was speechless.

“i’ll let you two get back to chatting. it was great to see you again.” marco flashed a wink at you as he walked away, rejoining his friends.

ace’s mouth hung open as marco left. he turned back to you, his expression inscrutable.

“the two of you must be quite close,” you said, observing ace as you held the paper from earlier between two fingers, “for him to have your vivre card.”

ace continued to say nothing, his eyes darting between you and marco across the room. there appeared to be a lot of math he was doing to understand what happened.

although watching ace turn into a blushing mess was indeed entertaining, you continued, in effort to regain the peace from before. you held out the piece of ace’s vivre card. “i don’t imagine you intended for marco to hand this out to strangers.”

ace smiled at you softly. “you should keep it.” he wrapped his hand around your open one, closing your fingers over the paper.

your pulse quickened from the sudden contact. he was tantalizingly warm.

“why, are you planning on losing your hat again? or maybe it’ll be something else next time?” you toyed with him, hoping to catch him on the tail end of his fluster.

ace leaned in close, bracing himself with his other arm. “if that’s what it takes to see you again.”

it was your turn to squirm under ace’s gaze. it was both a relief and a torment to know you weren’t imagining the chemistry you were feeling. it still could have been the booze, but you wouldn’t brush it off so easily.

with a sudden rush of confidence, you closed the space between the two of you, nearly standing out of your seat. ace could feel your breath on his skin as you spoke.

“i think,” you said, “it should take less than that.” your nose brushed against his before you sat back in your seat, only a whisper of touch as you let go of his hand. your heart was pounding now, but you had made your statement.

there was a flicker of something in the shine of his gaze. something a bit more starved than you’d anticipated. it was gone with a blink, but the hint of it sent a wave of need through you.

“it’s a bit loud in here, wouldn’t you agree?” ace straightened, watching you carefully as he posed the question.

you could have floated out of your chair, but thankfully, you remained earthbound. “it is,” you crooned, “hardly the noise level one might crave for good conversation.”

ace chuckled as he stood, holding one hand out to you. “let’s get some air.”

you took ace’s hand, ignoring the hollers from marco and the others as you followed him outside.

the air outside had cooled, not so much that it was cold, but in the way that summer nights fade from hot to, well, less hot, and the soft breeze wrapped around you, a welcome embrace. your steps were unhurried as you followed ace’s lead through the streets.

before you could register what was happening, ace suddenly pulled you to one side, guiding you to a dimly lit alley. you let out a small “eep!” at the movement as ace spun you around towards him.

“i never thought something as silly as losing my hat would lead me to someone like you,” ace said, his voice soft.

you swallowed your nerves as you straightened. “you’re lucky i was here, you know,” you said, tilting your head at him. “not many people would have walked in circles for hours to return a lost hat to a random stranger.”

“you’re so right,” ace chuckled. “i could tell when i saw you. your determination is something to be feared.”

you smiled up at him, staring into his eyes. “is it?”

“absolutely. i was so taken aback when i met you that i forgot what i wanted to say,” he held your gaze. “you surprised me.”

your expression flooded with mischief as you listened. you reached for ace’s hat, taking it off his head and placing it on your own. you’d avoided putting it on your head all day, not wanting to cross that boundary when you didn’t know who it belonged to. now, you took that small leap with a challenge in your eye.

“then let’s try again, shall we? i want to know what you were going to say.”

ace froze briefly, fighting the heat rushing to his face, and perhaps other places. seeing you in his hat turned him upside down. you were a beautiful thing to behold. but he wouldn’t back down from the challenge you presented him with. he swiftly closed the space between you, causing you to step back in surprise, but the surprise ran deeper when your back met a cold wall. ace braced one arm over your head as he leaned down, completely enclosing you with his frame.

“you’ve got a lotta nerve, taking someone’s hat, you know,” he said, his voice turning gravelly.

and you truly could have been floating when ace pressed his lips to yours in question, just a soft brush. you tried so hard not to smile into him, but then he pulled back, uncertain.

you grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him back to you. his eyes widened when you said, “then come take it from me.”

you crashed your lips into him, an answer to his question. the two of you moved in perfect harmony, you sliding your hands behind his neck, ace’s meeting your waist. whatever tension the two of you had been skirting around all night snapped.

ace’s grip tightened on your waist, causing you to gasp, the faintest of moans escaping your throat. ace took that chance to deepen the kiss, his tongue tracing your lips, which you greedily accepted, giving him full access. your hands began to roam his body, and you traced cords of muscle tightly woven beneath soft skin, appreciative of what your touch found.

after a fleeting eternity of shared kisses, ace broke his lips from yours, but they didn’t go far as he lowered his head, diligently dragging his lips downward. he nipped and sucked on the delicate surface of your neck until he felt your hands twitch during their exploration. he paused when he read your smallest of tells, and then sucked that sensitive place with more force, biting down ever so slightly to deepen the sensation. you couldn’t hold back the moan that followed when he released your skin, relieving the slight tinge of pain with a soft brush of his tongue.

“ace,” you whispered breathlessly as you pulled him away, returning his gaze to you. you kissed him again, softly and intentionally, no more question; no more challenge.

you both paused, chests heaving, noses nuzzling each other. the intimacy of sharing breath sharpened the high of your exchange, and you basked in it.

“can i-,” ace said between breaths, “can i walk you home?”

you grinned as ace backed away slightly, just enough to see your face. what a sight it was, to see your swollen lips and dilated pupils. to know that you were the one making those sweet, desperate little sounds just moments ago.

“you can walk me home,” you said.

ace grabbed both of your hands, pulling you off the wall and back to the street. he spun you around again before releasing you, but he held firm to one hand as you guided him to your home.

the two of you exchanged excited chatter as you walked through the streets you had both walked alone in search of the other. it was difficult to believe the night would end. hours had passed by as you had looked for ace, and they drew on, but now that you’d found him, the passage of time was a harsh whirlwind.

as ace walked you to your front door, you faced him again. there would be no more need to hold onto his hat any longer, so you picked it up once again.

ace’s hands shot up to yours, ceasing your movement. “tomorrow. i’ll come get it from you, and we’ll see mimi.”

“i’d like that,” you said. ace guided your hands back down to your sides, but he didn’t let go.

“i’ll be the one to find you this time. you’ve done enough searching.” he leaned in once again, kissing you, far more chastely than earlier, but with every ounce of passion.

you pulled away first, releasing him. you brushed one hand down his cheek. “i’ll see you tomorrow, ace.”

he nuzzled into your hand, entranced by your touch. “tomorrow.”

you made your way inside, parting ways for the day. as you settled down inside, your heartbeats returning to a resting pace, you couldn’t help but agree with what ace had said earlier.

you never thought something as silly as a lost hat could bring you to him.

thank you for reading!!! i worked on this over the course of several months as the idea came to me and i'm so happy to be sharing this now.

in case you are a playlist person, here is the spotify playlist that kept me inspired while i wrote. no need to listen, it isn't intended to read, i just wanted to share the vibes :-)

-tor

#portgas d ace fanfiction #portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x you #portgas d ace #portgas d. ace #portgas ace x reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fluff #portgas d ace fanfic #portgas d ace fluff #fire fist ace x reader #fire fist ace #fire fist ace fanfic #portgas d ace x you #tor writes

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fandoms-in-law · 12 hours ago

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Wrong Twice Over

Summary: Eddie adopts Dustin immediately because he's mentioned in his soulmate words.Once he hears them though, he just wishes he hadn't discounted someones likelihood of being his soulmate and needs to make it right.

Eddie had never told Dustin but from the time the kid had introduced himself, he’d had a place in Eddie’s life. He was mostly thankful that the brat liked DnD so keeping him around wasn’t a hardship at all.

The reason for that were the six words on his knee, the first words Eddie’s soulmate would ever say to him, that mentioned Dustin specifically. Somehow the kid was a connection to them and he didn’t intend to let that pass.

With Lucas and Mike, he’d breathed a sigh of a relief when neither of them said the words, though he definitely hadn’t given them the chance to do so and make sense. It was just better that whomever his soulmate was wasn’t a child.

So far only a week into the new school year had passed, and while Dustin had pointed out a couple of other seniors as people who’d help him, neither of them seemed likely to care if the kid said something right or wrong.

The last person in what Eddie thought was a reasonable age range to be his soulmate was too absurd to even consider as being it: King Steve Harrington himself.

There was no chance that someone like that could be anything to him at all, even if Dustin spoke as if he was a hero.

With those thoughts in mind, Eddie had no worries when greeting his unexpected visitor with, “Well if it isn’t the king coming with threats over something.”

Steve had looked like he actually could have threats given he was holding a few pages of notes out and had gotten out of his car looking like he was on a mission.

Once the words were said though he froze, staring at Eddie and dropping the pages on the ground before seeming heartbroken and turning away. “Well that’s Dustin wrong twice over.” Was all that was said as he vanished back to his car and sped away again.

Now Eddie was frozen, knowing the sentence too well and stunned. He’d expected it to be a joke, or to be something shared flirtatiously, but instead the soulmate words he’d cherished had been hurt and upset. It broke something in him to know he’d somehow been around his soulmate in school for so long yet their first actual interaction had been so negative in the end.

Resolving to figure out how to apologise he picked the pages up and looking them over only felt worse. There were lists and lists on them, things that the new members of Hellfire would struggle with facing in a campaign as well as vague or scribbled out reasons why he should avoid them.

It looked like Steve might’ve even asked someone for help with the list since there were three handwriting styles on the page, some giving ideas for what could be done instead of the things listed, others changing his explanations for why they needed avoiding.

He didn’t know what Dustin had been wrong about, but Eddie definitely felt like he’d been wrong multiple times over about Steve and anything he’d been doing.

At least he knew for certain that he had to make it right again.

“Dustin! Need your help!” Eddie called, late to get to the Hellfire table for lunch and focused on the first thing he hoped could be done.

“Better find someone else to help then.” Dustin replied, turning and glaring at him venomously.

Mike also glared, while the rest of the table looked between them in confusion. “Yeah, you don’t do that shit and then ask for favours.”

Eddie looked between them, glancing around to see Lucas staring, expression controlled, where he sat with the basketball team and hopefuls wanting to try out. “I want to apologise. That’s what I’m asking for your help with.” He pulled out the letter he’d written, holding it towards the younger students.

“Why? Because you realised that high school isn’t everything even though you were preaching that all last week?” Dustin snapped. “He literally wanted me to be right. Said he’d try to help when Mike worried at movie night and believed that you’d be cool. We all did. So fuck you, whatever apology you’ve got I’m checking first.”

A throat was cleared behind him before Eddie could reply. “As will I, and all of you better hope it’s good enough.” A band student stood there, arms crossed and eyes hard as she looked over Corroded Coffin. “You spend your life making big statements and gestures so maybe try that this time. I’m taking this now.” She plucked the pages from his hands

“Robin! I need to check that!” Dustin protested, standing to follow her.

Mike rolled his eyes as they both walked away. “She means it. If there’s someone going to raise hell for Steve it’s Buckley and then Dustin. But if that was a letter for him then it’ll get to him.”

“An apology and a thank you. He dropped a list I think he wanted to talk to me about when he came round. I’m glad I have it and wish I hadn’t spoken as I did, though I thought it was just teasing.” Eddie explained, sitting down at the table as he didn’t feel the need for a speech that day.

“What do we have to do with whatever happened?” Gareth asked, looking at the freshman curiously.

Mike sighed as if it was obvious. “Band students sometimes work with the drama kids, so if she talks to the drama teacher where are we going to play? Though I think Nancy might have to get involved to manage that so I will try to avoid it happening.”

“She’d go after a club you’re part of?” Jeff asked, sceptical.

“The party sticks together. We’d accept it if Dustin decides not enough is done.” Lucas says coming over to the table, now looking amused and a glance back to the basketball group showed Robin and Dustin reading over the pages and debating just behind them. “But it sounds like you’ve made a good enough start. Just need to put some actions behind whatever you’ve written.”

The older students exchanged looks, “What party? You mean like in a campaign?”

“Close enough.” The younger pair agreed.

For the rest of lunch conversation moved back to various classes and goals for the year, but Eddie was watching where Dustin and Robin had seemingly come to a conclusion, his apology getting folded into Robin’s pocket.

Steve didn’t make an attempt to reach out to Eddie after getting the letter. Dustin calmed down now his initial annoyance had passed, but it was clear not everything had been forgiven.

Soulmates were meant to be perfect for each other, so despite all the ideas based on what Eddie had known of Steve that meant he acted differently, he tried to focus on things he wanted to do to apologise.

Making a character in a campaign would only work if it was one where they got Steve into the school to play, so that couldn’t happen immediately. Writing a song would also only work if Steve allowed it too, and accepted an invitation to the Hideout to see it performed, since Eddie was never going to risk arrest by playing it outside the mansion in Loch Nora.

“Time’s ticking, Munson. Are you going to make a move?” Buckley asked, waiting at his locker when a couple of weeks had passed since he’d sent the apology.

He turned, smiling at her, “Wish I could. Don’t know where to find him and am a little concerned over getting the wrath of his parents if I just turned up on his doorstep to beg forgiveness.”

“We work at Family Video. He gets the early shift during the week so either skip school to see him or come in on the weekend.” She huffed as if this was something he should’ve know. “And those assholes are never in town. I could move in and they’d never realise.”

“Lonely life.” He commented before thinking about it and looking shrewdly at her, “How often do you hang out at his and would you mind if I crashed an evening?”

Robin smirked at him, “Now you’re getting it. Talk to us instead of stewing in that head of yours. This week I’ll be there Tuesday night and Thursday. Entire party will be there on Friday so avoid it unless you know you’re a hundred percent serious over Steve, not just your soulmate.”

“Tuesday night, then. I’ll bring pizza and something sugary.” He decided.

She nodded in allowance of that but, as she turned to leave, added “And something in case he has a migraine. I heard weed can help.”

Steve held the door open but didn’t move out of the way of it as he stared at Eddie. “Hi, Munson, erm, are you okay?”

“Fantastic. A birdie told me you’re hanging out tonight and I offered to bring pizza so I could hopefully apologise in person?” Eddie grinned hopefully, but knew his eyes showed the internal wince when he mentioned their last interaction.

“Okay, um, come in. I did get your letter, you know. You don’t need to do anything more.” He replied, stepping back, still looking uncomfortable.

Eddie clicked his tongue, “I have to argue with you there, Harrington. I definitely need to do more, not because we’re soulmates but because you’re apparently the sweetest guy around who keeps lists of things a bunch of kids I can’t figure out your connection to need to avoid in a game it sounds like you never play. I judged you for someone I should have seen you no longer were and that need plenty of pizza apologies.”

“We, basically all of us have similar things we need to avoid.” Steve muttered, but led the way through to his living room where Robin was stretched out over one sofa.

“Munson, come in! Tell us about your day.” She called, gesturing around the room as if it was her own.

He laughed, collapsing onto the other sofa, “What do you want to know?”

“What the shitheads got up to and if they’re planning any chaos for us.” She answered easily.

Steve shook his head, moving to sit on Robin’s sofa, easily accepting it when her feet were placed in his lap. “They’re always planning chaos, if they’re not in deadly situations.”

With that the conversation flowed easily between them and Eddie began to hope that even if he’d messed up meeting his soulmate they could become something wonderful with time, and apparently, with Robin there too. He didn’t need to see Steve with her for long to know there wouldn’t be any separating those friends.

A rocky beginning can still become a great story.

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #steddie #dustin henderson #platonic stobin #soulmate au #soulmate words

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 1 day ago

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1) Engaging with Dean Winchester as bisexual is exactly what I'm talking about wrt headcanons. It's not explicitly canon, but it is not actually contradicted by canon. Bisexuality is one of the best headcanons in that it's VERY hard to be proven false in canon, bc there is space for shit like denial, comphet, etc. I also headcanon Dean as bi, ftr.

2) While it's less supported by canon that he's actually ace, there is again nothing in canon saying he's not ACTUALLY ace and just engaging in sex because maybe it feels good, and he feels like he's supposed to in order to be a Masculine Dude (tm). This is still a headcanon.

2a) If you were, however, to say "I think Dean is specifically a sex-repulsed ace", that would be an AU because frankly canon shows that at the very least he is enthusiastic about the act of sex, and seems by all accounts to enjoy it on a physical level.

3) Okay so like... it's not about "having wrong headcanons". It's about "is this a headcanon or is it a fun alternate take on canon that I prefer/enjoy". If you really enjoy playing with Dean who is actually a cis woman, or a trans man, or w/e, that's valid af! That sounds fun! But that's an AU, not a headcanon.

You can 100% have whatever take on a character or story or canon or w/e that you want. All I'm talking about is what you CALL that thing. If I say I headcanon Steve Rogers as queer (bi or gay or secretly a butch trans femme) that is technically, if only by a smidge sometimes, a headcanon, because you can wiggle those into canon without outright ignoring parts of canon. But if I have cis female Stevie Rogers, even if very little changed, even if maybe the wider public even thought she was a guy, that's still an AU, because I have changed something about the character that is irreconcilable with canon.

It matters because words mean things. A "headcanon" can be wrong in the sense that "that is not a headcanon, because canon directly and explicitly contradicts it" but it's still a valid way of interacting with canon. It's just not a headcanon, it's an AU. All AU means is "this is a version of the story that does not align with canon." It can be as big as a whole different universe (all the characters are suddenly baristas in a coffee shop) or it can be as small as just changing one event or one character (Bucky never fell off the train, this character has been gender swapped, these characters who were not related are related now). The idea that an AU has to be a huge difference is so ridiculous and I have no idea where it came from. Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence (ie one small thing changed that shifted the trajectory of canon) is an actual tag on AO3.

Words mean things and are important, because how you frame the situation affects how other people will interact with it and you. If you tell me you headcanon Tony Stark as being sex repulsed ace, I will look at you like you're an idiot, because that ignores a LOT of canon. But if you tell me you've got an AU where Tony Stark is a sex repulsed ace, I'll be potentially interested in hearing more about that. How does this change things and how does it not? How does he feel about his reputation as a womanizer? etc.

I am not trying to say people can't or shouldn't have these alternate takes on the canon they enjoy. I'm just saying they should use the right words for how they're interacting with it.

yeah ngl if you headcanon a fictional character as something (100% gay, ace, aro, what have you) and then canon explicitly shows that they are absolutely in no way that thing, your headcanon is objectively wrong.

Like, have an AU or something, but headcanons are meant to flesh out "shit we just don't know about the character because it's never been addressed by canon", not to create an entirely new version of the character.

#fanthropology

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tansypawz · 1 day ago

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excuse me have you ever explaned why you hate losercake

buckle up because this is gonna be a long response.

cake is one of, if not my favorite bfdi character, and he has been for a very long time. i saw a lot of myself in him and eventually started looking deeper into the details of his personality, his actions and his general character, and i realized, loser did not leave a positive impact on him in any way whatsoever.

let me explain.

at the start of bfb, everyone loves loser. cake included, obviously. cake ends up 'lucky' enough to be in a team with him, a team where everything everyone did always revolved around loser. loser was the 'driving force' behind his team, just to receive all the praise and love from his adoring fans. this, however, is as far as he would go in terms of forming bonds with his team.

at least, that was the case with everyone except for cake.

we know from an episode in bfb B that he wanted to keep that praise from his fans, and to have them never question his judgement or plans.

to keep his fans' trust and devotion towards him, he'd need to constantly present as likeable and friendly, and an easy way to do that is by forming a slightly deeper yet still extremely superficial relationship with one of his adoring fans, in this case, cake. that's when the nudging started. the nudging loser always did to cake whenever it was cake at stake. and of course cake was at first ecstatic to be noticed by his idol ! however, i believe cake was uncomfortable in regards to the joke being made.

you see, when leafy rejoins and gifts needle the 3d cake, you can see cake distraught at the sight of needle eating it, making it safe to assume cake heavily dislikes the visual or idea of cake being eaten, even if it's not sentient like he is. look at this screenshot from the sceen where he sees needle eat the cake

that is not the face of someone who's comfortable with jokes about his object being eaten

but he could never reveal that he was uncomfortable with a form of affection THE loser was giving him. not only would he look bad in front of his idol, but his team was so loser-centric that the slightest criticism would make them violent [for example, in bfb 1 when pin points out they should do the challenge instead of gushing about loser she THROWN INTO THE AIR BY FIREY]. so of course, he played along

and so, this continued on for the next few cake at stakes in bfb A. four or x would mention the safe contestants would get cake, loser nudged cake, cake blushed and gasped. and cake started to lean into the "loser's favorite" bit [take, for example, bfb 6 where he leans into loser after hearing bell bash into the basket they were hiding in], because he was trying to make sure even he believed that the shallow affection loser gave him held some sort of significance, and that pushing his own comfort away for the sake of looking good in front of loser [who was not only his idol, but an important figure amidst all the contestants] and his team was the right call.

but then came bfb 7, and loser was both hated and eliminated. so many people started revolting against him, surely cake can finally let that sealed-up frustration out right ? and so he shouts, "he's gone for a reason". what is he met with?

hostility.

cake, in an attempt to show his true feelings about loser, was immediately pushed down and reproached for it. so he continued to hold it in and when met with hostility, one is hostile in return, and so he starts expressing his frustration in some other ways. take bfb 13 for example, he starts arguing very loudly with eggy about who's "more spiritually connected to loser", which is a very abrupt and confusing shift from his usual polite, gentle self.

WHICH. THAT ARGUMENT BRINGS ME TO ANOTHER POINT. since he was "loser's designated favorite", someone claiming they were closer to loser probably felt so Wrong to him. HE was the one who kept getting nudged. HE was the one loser always addressed. HE was loser's favorite, even if he didn't particularly want that role. he kept up the act of "loser's favorite" long after his elimination, because what else was he supposed to do. that's all he was.

so, during the time between loser's elimination and the beginning of tpot, cake was more aggressive and rude, because it was his only method of releasing the frustration he was feeling. it was mainly towards loser and the general situation, but one could argue part of that frustration could've been towards himself.

anyways, we skip forwards to tpot. cake, despite his anger, still cares about his friendships, which is why in tpot 1, he's disheartened at the sight of having to choose between clock or eggy, two of his friends, and then being completely deserted by eggy.

however, he eventually joins just not, and you can see throughout his time in tpot prior to his elimination, he is visibly much happier than when he was part of the losers. i invite you to look up the "bfb but only when cake is on screen" and "tpot but only when cake is on screen" videos, and you WILL notice the increase in positive cake reactions and dialogues in tpot.

for my final argument, i present his elimination speech. i present to you the full transcript of his final words as a contestant in tpot 8:

he SPECIFICALLY mentions how he was so happy to not be playing for loser, but for himself. he was finally having fun, with a team that he loved and was loved by. if he truly enjoyed loser's presence and attention, if he truly enjoyed being his "favorite", he wouldn't have mentioned this at all.

so yeah. cake doesn't like loser, loser doesn't care about cake. if you dont agree with any of this and STILL think losercake is a good ship then please just block me. don't try to convince me to like losercake because i am not budging from my stance. as i stated before, i see a lot of myself in cake, and maybe this is all self-indulgent and projection and whatever, but it's how i see his character. and it makes me really sad that people call him bland or only see him as "loser's favorite" because he's so much more than that. i could go more in depth about his general character, but i was merely asked to explain why i dislike losercake. so here you go ! this is my reasoning. do with this what you will.

tldr; cake did not like being loser's 'favorite' and merely played along with loser's attention to not look bad in front of his idol and his fellow contestants. he was one of the contestants that talked bad about loser after his elimination in bfb 7, and pointed out how he was happy to play away from him in tpot 8. the fight cake had with eggy in bfb 13 about who was "more spiritually connected to loser" was his way of releasing his frustration, as he was reproached for speaking ill of loser back in bfb 7. he is not bland or one-dimensional, you just probably didnt pay enough attention to detail.

#thief chitter #thief talks #character analysis #bfdi #cake bfdi #bfdi cake #cake bfb #bfb cake #tpot cake #cake tpot #tpot #bfdi tpot #tpot bfdi #bfb bfdi #bfdi bfb #bfb

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hehehereliesmysanity · 1 day ago

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Matchmakers

(1k words)

"That is the most stupid idea you have ever had." Simon yells, but lowers his voice when he realizes that the dogs look scared after the little argument he and Wille are having for some time.

Everything is settled, they broke up. Simon moved out of the apartment and there was only one problem. Who is gonna keep the dogs?

Wille suggests that they each get one dog and Simon almost laughs at the stupidity and that there are three of them is not even the point. Is he out of his mind? They adopted the little puppies when they were so little and they are inseparable. So that is out of the question. Wille then suggests flipping a coin about who is going to get them. What? He is not making any sense these days. Then after the same arguments back and forth, Simon keeps the dogs and leaves the apartment he has spent the last five years of his life. He takes one last look at the rooms nd leaves. For good.

He got himself a little place. It's not fully furnitured yet but he will have to make do. Willes' apartment belonged to his brother so Simon had to move out. In his mind, on a very small corner of it, he knows that Wille would be the one to leave, not wanting to inconvenience Simon, if the circumstances were different. He was always thoughtful and considerate like that and he slipped away from Simon's hands. It is all his fault.

He has a slightly uncomfortable bed he bought from Ikea in a rush. The dogs loves to sleep with Wille and Simon, no, that is not a thing anymore. They are not used to this environment. It must feel like very strange and unfamiliar and scary to them. He tries for one week but then the dogs are restless and don't like the new place at all. After Simon took their home away from them, it was no surprise. So he makes up his mind.

He rings the bell of the house where he once had the keys of. He would meet Wille at the door with a kiss but this time Wille only smiles at him with sad eyes. He looks down at their dogs and gives an understanding smile. He must have missed them too. He gets down on his knees and gives them a little pet, the dogs start to lick his hands and face and Wille starts laughing with his whole body, giggling over and over. Maybe that's the right thing. They need to stay at home. Their real home where he spent almost their whole lives. Simon feels like he needs to stay home too but that ship has already sailed.

He leaves again to go back to his empty apartment. He doesn't know what he did wrong, everything was going so well between them. But he knows. Wille deserves someone much better than him.

A couple of hours later, Wille calls him and Simon's heart skips a beat. He still loves him. So that should be expected.

Wille tells him that Olle’s favorite toy is missing and he is not happy about it. Simon hangs up disappointed, seeing the reason why Wille even called him in the first place. He looks for the squeaky toy everywhere in the house and finds it under the sofa. At least someone is gonna be happy. He puts on his coat and goes to Wille's apartment.

Wille opens the door with the familiar but strange smile on his face. He looks at the toy happily and invites Simon in after seeing the dogs' enthusiasm over seeing him. Could dogs be children of divorce too? But that was the problem. They never got married. Simon got scared and said nothing when Wille proposed to him and one thing led to another and here they are.

The dogs take him to the bedroom, pointing at the bed. That became a routine for them. Every day, after Simon and Wille went to sleep, they would crawl up on the edge of the bed and nap for a couple of hours. Maybe that's what they want. Wille told him they were restless since Simon dropped them earlier. The dog pats the edge of the pet, making literal puppy eyes at him and after Simon makes eye contact with Wille who just nods his head in approval, he lies on the bed, propping his head against the headboard and Wille doing the same after he gets his own puppy eyes, with the dogs sitting beside them, getting pats and all the love pouring out of them.

They talk about everything and nothing. It feels like another Friday night. The familiarity and the love in Wille's eyes but it is not. It can't be. Wille couldn't possibly be in love with him after a rejection like that. Simon feels his eyes getting heavy too. He didn't have a good week at all. He also had problems with sleeping on his new bed but he knows that's hardly Ikea’s fault. It is entirely something else. Or someone else. He missed Wille so much that being in the presence of him made him so safe and happy that he slowly drifted to sleep.

Simon wakes up in the middle of the night and then he takes his surroundings and the weight beside his body. Warm and lively. He must have fallen asleep while talking to Wille. He always thought Wille’s voice was like a peaceful lullaby.

Their bodies are entangled and Simon can feel Wille's heartbeat against his ear, hugging him from the side. The loud and insisten thumping sound makes him even more nervous. Fuck, maybe it is his own heartbeat. He tries to slowly peel himself away from him but Wille stops him with a hand on his arm.

"Stay."

"I need to---"

"Simon," Wille breathes, "stay forever."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

#young royals #wilmon #yr drabbles #wilmon drabbles #my yr fics #young royals fic #i used a prompt generator and this happened

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dreamwreaver · 2 days ago

Note

The way the pilot showed how Hazbin Hotel was going to be like, it felt like it was supposed to use Charlie and Alastor's dynamic a lot. I thought the series were going to play off on their polarizing morals and approaches to handling the hotel. Especially when the title of the series itself reflects that.

"Hazbin" is Alastor's little joke of a name and a label to the residents, how he views redeeming sinners as a funny sight to see yet very fitting as those "has beens" (washed up drunks, drug addicts, criminals) will become better versions of those "has beens," a drug addict now able to handle their addictions and be more happier kind of "has been".

"Hotel" is the physical representation of Charlie's dream, it's symbolizing a safe, relaxing place where people can take time to rest, leave their baggages and calm themselves from their life of stress and come out of the hotel a new person, free from stress and ready to return to life (ascend to heaven redeemed) with a fresher outlook on life.

Together, "Hazbin Hotel" serves as haven for those who come from a troubling and dark history having to come to terms with how they've destroyed their lives with their past actions but given a chance to start anew.

Hazbin Hotel, at least in season 1, should have been about Charlie and Alastor arguing about how they should run their establishment with their ideas, only for them to work together and combine their assets and abilities to get the best outcome for their residents. The song "Heaven 2 Hell" handled their dynamic well and showed us how Hazbin Hotel could have been.

-rambling nonnie

Hey there Rambley!

I can't agree more. As fun as Hazbin in its current form is, I can't help but get the feeling that it was so rushed the emotional impact of some of the stuff they did keep in didn't hit as hard as it should have. The big things being of course the vaggie reveal and Pentious' death.

Huskerdust fans, I love you and you have my sword, however I think masquerade would have been better placed in season 2; when the Vees themselves are the main antagonists so therefore an angel centric episode would make more sense? And the accelerated timeline should have been a consequence of the trial, not an impetus for it. Charlie's whole goal is to stop the exterminations through rehabilitation right? So wouldn't it make more sense to try and get Heaven on board after the last one rather than Adam saying fuck you were doing it twice a year now? And having Charlie fail to produce any concrete evidence that rehabilitation could work coupled with the increasing population of sinners would convince Sera to allow for a bi-annual extermination? Also, how come Adam can just tell Charlie that's what he's doing? I feel like the exterminations were a thing negotiated between Lucifer and Heaven. I don't think you can just say "I wanna kill more so we're doing it twice a year now" and have it be so.

The whole point of the exterminations was population control to keep sinners from rising up to conquer heaven. Allegedly, anyways. But we know that all Hellborn are supposed to be safe since they only hunt in Pride. Obviously Lucifer cared enough to keep that little clause in there so idk, feels off.

But I digress; hazbin hotel is at its very core about the opposing views of Charlie and Alastor both being right and also both being wrong. It's about how the two of them TOGETHER are what makes the hotel work. Charlie wants to trust everyone, Alastor definitely doesn't but he's at least possessive enough to make sure that absolutely no insult to her would stand. The man took on her own DAD for Christ's sake!

#charlastor #radiobelle #hazbin hotel #dream replies #charlie morningstar #alastor

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jollyhunter · 1 day ago

Text

You are so very welcome! Re: your other feedback; I am, too, so grateful for our growing friendship and all the fun, deep (and sometimes panicked lmao) discussions we have. 💗

OF COURSE it had to be potatoes. How could you celebrate your birthday without your soul-uh, soul-vegetable? (is a potato classified as a vegetable...?). ANYWAY. It was so much fun to think of a case about potatoes. My google history's not littered with potato research websites XD

DEAD ☠️🤣- Girl, the unhinged Dean is giving me life! 🙌🏻

Gotta love when he acts a bit unhinged, our babygirl 😂

Oh I can already imagine the trainwreck of Dean doing a guest lecture of this- Dean accidentally knocking things off pedestals, thinking that something is unbreakable and tapping it on the desk only to have it shatter into a million pieces (like Uncle Buck), Dean literally mispronouncing everything and getting that cute smile/pressing his lips together while he tries to figure out what on earth he can pull out of his butt to make people he knows what he's talking about...

YESSS YOU GET IT. That's EXACTLY the way I imagined his teaching lesson would play out 🤣 "accidentally knocking things off pedestrals" has me CRYING and then "thinking something is unbreakable and tapping it on the deskt only to have it shatter into a million pieces" LMFAO - I'M DEAD 💀 And yes yes yes about the mispronounciation and cute smile/pressed lips - he would absolutely be a trainwreck 😂

You've given me a little bit of professor!Dean and I am rabid. 👀🥵 Also I feel like if Dean was in there lecturing it would be kinda how Shawn is in Psych so thank you for giving me that reminder 🥰

At least a tiny bite of it. 😏 Good thing you didn't have to wait long until @zepskies served us with the real deal of professor!Dean 🥵💗

Aww I love their little meet cute! I'm so clumsy so her literally dropping all her papers and then scrambling papers is so me coded- AND THE BLUSH AND THE HEAD DUCK! I cannot make eye contact with attractive men to save my life, it really is me being so awkward and trying my best find ways out of eye contact- lots of blushing, lots of mumbling 😅

I'm glad this reader resonates with you! To be honest, I was a bit shy with the personality traits because I was afraid of getting them completely wrong. 🙈 (Hehe, I thought of the reader in Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me 👀 )

And him literally almost breaking the relics is so Dean coded lol. I can see him pulling one of those bits where he's almost juggling the thing to catch it before he almost drops it 😂

THE JUGGLING THING. Bet he'd just let out a very pressed chuckle, trying to play it cool, "Eh-heh-heh... It was old anyway, right?"

I think my favorite thing about this fic is that the reader is having a completely normal reaction to hearing everything that Dean and Sam are talking about on the phone. I love that the reader you wrote has no idea how anything in the supernatural world works- I mean I love me a hunter!reader, but there really is something about reading a reader who literally acts as if she was placed in supernatural from the real world that is just so fun!

I wasn't sure at first which path I should go, but I felt like a civillian!reader would be more fun for what's to come in the second part. Glad you liked it - pheew! 🥰

Jolly, I absolutely loved every bit of this and I am so excited for the next part! Thank you so much for writing this for me and thinking of me on my birthday 🥰 You're such a sweet friend and ILYSM for this!💚

Again, you're so welcome! I can't wait to post the second part and see you're reaction to the craziness (once I've had the time to finish it, sorry, I'm slow OTL). Love you too, sweet friend! 💗

The Potato Summoning *1

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SWEETIE !!! This is for you 🧡 ENJOY!

⋆ ˚｡⋆ CHARACTERS Dean Winchester x @lamentationsofalonelypotato , Sam's also there!

WARNINGS Pure Crack (especially next part), Canon Violence / Swearing, Reader (Lee) is a student at the university, POV's all over the place (imgine it like in an episode)

⋆ ˚｡⋆ SUMMARY Dean must go undercover at a university to solve a weird case of a series of deaths involving potatoes.

⋆ ˚｡⋆ WORDS 2,4k

⋆ ˚｡⋆ J / NOTE Would you believe me if I was to tell you that this was meant to be a drabble or an imagine, but I suddenly imagined it like an episode and just kept going, and now I had to stop myself before your birthday's over and instead make a two part mini series out of this??? Anway, I hope you like it so far, hun! <3

Dean ducks under the police tape, walking up to the body covered by a white sheet, sprawled out in the middle of the campus, while straightening his fake FBI uniform. He's closely followed by his younger brother who almost tore down the tape as he had tripped over his long legs, earning himself an amused smirk of Dean's.

Sam mutters an annoyed, "Shut up, jerk." under his breath, before his focus shifts to the victim in front of them.

"Sure, Sasquatch," Dean quips and leans down to pull back the sheet, uncovering the face of a guy who looks like he's been in his early 20s. The bright sun reflects in eyes wide in shock, the angular face partially framed by middle long, blond hair that's stuck to his sidebuns.

"Isn't that the douchebag who sexually harassed a girl the other day?" Dean asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah, Tommie Parsons," Sam huffs through his nose while he flips his notebook open, "That's the third student in two months who dropped dead at exactly 1PM. What do you think? Revengeful spirit perhaps?"

"Or a curse..." - Dean hums and straightens his back to look after a group of female students passing by the crime scene tape, while he continues to mutter, - "Whatever it is, it didn't hop the Blue Line... so it's gotta be tied to the place." His focus returns to Sam, his eyebrows wiggling.

"Looks like we're going back to university, Sammy."

"You mean, I'm going back," Sam retorts with an amused roll of his eyes.

While Dean tries and fails to bite back with some witty comeback, Sam's focus returns to the victim at his feet once more. His eyes roam the poor guy's crumpled body when he suddenly spots something. He tilts his head to the side and crouches down next to him.

"Huh, check this out... Looks like he has something stuck in his throat?" Sam observes with narrowed eyes.

Dean grins smugly while poking the small bulge with the tip of his black leather shoe. It bobs under the pressure and Sam shoots him a side-eye when the surrounding police officers start to watch them with skepticism.

"Ha, I bet he's not used to having something shoved down his throat like that.” Dean stays unperturbed and grins down at the horror-stricken, pale face, “Karma’s a real bitch, huh, Timmy?"

The next Day.

"C'mon, man, couldn't it have been something sexier? Like a sex ed or at least a sports teacher?" Dean grumbles with the phone clasped between his shoulder and ear, fingers fumbling with his tie.

"You wanted the job, don't blame me. It was the only thing available." Sam answers through the phone.

"Yeah but, a - a-" he shifts his phone to his hand and squints at his campus ID "- ‘Expert in South American Household Traditions’, seriously? The hell's that even supposed to mean?"

"You're only a guest mentor. You'll wing it, Dean." Sam sighs on the other side of the call, "Just focus on digging up some dirt on our victims and I'll have a look at our Deep Throater at the morgue."

"Yeah, yeah," Dean mutters while rounding the corner of the hallway, eyes darting around in search of his classroom, "Why can't they label this goddamn maze? This is rid- Agk-" his sentence breaks off into a grunt as he knocks into something.

Or rather, someone.

You land on your ass, papers gone flying across the floor. Wincing and rubbing your forehead which had collided with his hard shoulder.

"Damn, sorry, didn't see ya there," He apologizes and reaches out a hand towards you to pull you back to your feet, "You okay?"

"Yeah, all good," you mumble, patting down your skirt to smooth it out. You notice the scattered papers with a sigh and bend down to quickly collect your papers, "I'm late, sorry-" you mutter without looking at the guy once and about to dash past him when he suddenly interrupts you.

"Uh- Me too, actually. You wouldn't happen to know where I'm supposed to go?" He shoots you a crooked smile and points at his name tag reading "Dr. Phil. Page".

Your eyes widen, and for the first time travel up to meet his emerald ones, intense and glinting in the harsh light of the hallway.

"You're- you're our guest mentor for our special exhibition?"

"Yep. Households expert and the whole package," he chuckles a bit nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, "That'd be me."

The air gets stuck in your throat for a moment and the heat's rushing to your cheeks. He looks cute. And he's really young for a Dr. Phil.?

"Ah," you snap out of it and continue in a flustered manner, "Follow me, Mr. Page, I'm in your class. We gotta hurry tho!"

"Alright then. Lead the way, sweetheart," he smiles at you and your cheeks take a faint pink at the way he called you. But you quickly avert your eyes before you both hurry down the hallway with Dean following you closely.

Four hours and a very 'interesting' take on 'South American Household Traditions' later, you and the rest of the students flock in the canteen of the university.

Your mind keeps going back to your guest mentor. Despite the fact that he almost broke one of the relics of their special Inca exhibition, most certainly got every single date and object wrong and referred to a staff as a 'pokey stick', you couldn't ignore the fact that he had something charming, intriguing even.

Your circling thoughts are interrupted when a voice behind you has you turn to look over your shoulder, canteen tray in your hands. Behind you standing in line, is no other than your new mentor.

"Hey," he nods at you, lips quirked into a confident smirk, "How'd I do?"

"Uhm," you hesitate, mind racing for a kind way to tell him that he'd managed to butcher traditions worth thousands of years in just four hours.

"It was, uh... quite unique?" Mhm, real smooth. You facepalm internally.

"That bad, huh?" he chuckles and holds his plate out for a sausage, his eyes flickering back to yours as they crinkle, amused, "In my defence, it was my first teaching. And I kept getting distracted, y'know." He winks. Your ears flush and you giggle, trying your best to ignore the fact that it almost seems like your mentor is trying to flirt with you.

"Mind if I join you?" he asks casually and nods at the teacher table in the corner, "Ms. Tingles back there is giving me the creeps.”

Your eyes follow his and a cold shiver runs down your back when they settle on your history teacher. Hawk-like eyes of an elder woman bore into yours, face lined with sharp contours and a beak-like nose. And mostly, feared by all.

"Yeah," you breath with a shudder, voice dropped to a mere murmur, just in case the hold hag had developed super hearing, "Miss Tinkle's a real charmer." Dean chuckles amused at your sarcastic tone.

You hand your plate to the next lady who adds a portion of French fries to your meat. And Dean follows suit once you continue to pick your favourite sauce along the fries.

"Here love," the lady scoops Dean an extra portion onto the plate, "You look hungry," she smiles at him motherly. Dean's eyebrows shoot up, a surprised grin forming on his face.

“Well, ain’t you just a sweet peach,"- he leans in to read her name tag before he looks up again and shoots her a boyish grin -"Susan. You keep feeding me like this, and I might just have to stick around permanently."

You both took a seat at one of the outdoor tables, Dean sliding into the bench across of you. It's a lively place, students chattering around you while the atmosphere is warmed by a sunny spring day.

"You sure you want to sit with me, Mr. Page...?" you ask once you've settled down, afraid that he might have only followed you around because he didn't want you to sit alone. He nods, muffling a " 'course" between the French Frie he's chewing on before he swallows and his tongue darts out to lick the salt off his fingertips, eyes never leaving you.

"But you-"

"Just call me Dean," he interjects, that flirty smile spread across his face again, "What's your name, sweetheart?"

"I'm Lee," you smile sheepishly and stroke one of your brown locks past your glasses and behind your ears. He repeats your name under his breath, his smile widening for a fraction.

Then he clears his throat, his face taking on a more serious note.

"Can I ask you, Lee, did you know a Tommie Parsons by any chance?"

"Parsons?" You echo the name, lips twitched into a disgusted frown, "Yeah, heard plenty of him. He was a real ass. And a pervert." As you speak your mind, you realize what you'd just said and you quickly try to allay any wrong impressions, "Not that he'd deserved to die, of course."

"Of course," Dean repeats with a slightly arched eyebrow, "Mind telling me what you know abou-"

He doesn't get to finish his sentence when all of a sudden a loud noise tears through the lively chattering, followed by a girl screaming in panic.

Dean, hunter instincts kicking in, leaps off his seat and instinctively reaches for the colt hidden at the back of his waist, eyes darting around when they zero in on a guy at one of the tables.

He's pale as a sheet, wheezing and heaving like a cat that's trying to produce a furball. Dean's hand hovering over the colt falters.

"Hey- what's the matter?" He asks as he darts over to the table, eyes snapping back and forth between the guy and what was presumably his girlfriend next to him.

"I- I don't know- he just-" the girl stammers, but gets interrupted by her boyfriend's kecking sounds.

"C-c-an't- b-b-" his voice cracks and he doubles over, retching terribly. Dean's hands hover over his back, cursing under his breath, "Shit - hey, c'mon, talk to me!" Eyes roaming his writhing body, he notices how a bulge at his throat starts to form, bobbing right above his Adam's Apple.

Oh no-

The watch on his wrist reads 12:59.

He looks around the place, eyes narrowed as he scans every face in the forming crowd, like he's expecting a witch or a spirit to hide among them. Sure enough, his gaze meets Miss Tinkle. Watching the entire show from the doorway to the canteen, her eyes cold as they lock with his. Dean's jaw clenches, mind racing.

The hunter's attention is suddenly drawn to a backpack on the floor next to them. He looks up at the girl, voice sharp as he prompts, "Is this his?" She nods, trembling.

Without missing a beat, he lunges for the backpack and turns it upside down, its contents spilling across the ground.

"Come on, come on, where's that damn thing-" he grits out, hands rifling through the contents in vain, "Damn it!"

Standing on the sidelines, you can only watch in horror as your classmate scrambles for his water glass, sending fries flying everywhere as he does so, before his face begins to turn blue - and the next thing you know, he slips off his chair and hits the floor.

His body twitches once or twice.

Silence.

Then the campus gong goes off to signal it's exactly 1 o'clock.

Dean leans against the wall of the deserted staircase in one of the university's buildings.

"There was no hexbag," he mutters into the phone, fingers rubbing the spot between his eyebrows, "I don't get it, man. What the hell are we dealing with here?"

"It wasn't your fault, Dean. There was nothing you could've done to save him." Sam reassures him, voice soft even through the crackling phone.

"I should've. I was right there... Damn it."

"You tried your best, okay? You wanna hear what I found out in the morgue? The thing in the guy's throat?"

Dean sighs and runs a hand down his mouth before he regains his usual tone, "Yeah, hit me."

"A potato."

Dean blinks like he must've misheard him.

"A what now?"

"I'm serious. Like a fully grown, unpeeled, raw potato."

"Oh give me a break."

"Just reporting the news," Sam scoff-chuckles and continues to explain, "It even had the dirt on it still. Like it had just been dug up and magically zapped next to his windpipe."

"O- okay- uh, that's a new one," he comments, still confused, "So how's that fit our theory?"

"I'm not sure," Sam mutters, "I was thinking maybe it has something to do with what they ate. If it's not them who're marked by the curse, maybe it's the food?"

"Food?" Dean mutters.

Then his eyes widen in realization. His throat suddenly feels oddly tight, his hand instinctively rubbing his Adam's Apple.

"Oh no..." he gulps, face scrunched up into a grimace.

"What's the matter?"

"Son of a bitch jinxed the fries."

Sam's silent for a moment, then scoffs.

"And lemme guess-"

" 'Course I did, Sammy! It's friggin' French Fries, man!" he arguments before his brother can even finish his (correct) assumption. He turns on his heels in frustration, gaze passing by the window when his voice suddenly drops to a hushed one, "Hold on-"

Sam's questioning voice is now being muffled as Dean clamped his hand over the phone, his focus drawn to a loud discussion below the window in the staircase.

"Christ on a Stake - Bob! I said 'order one hundred potatoes', not 'enough to feed the entire goddamn town'!" An elder man shouts, hands flailing around.

Presumably the cook, judging by his clothings.

"I- I'm sorry sir, I - I didn't- " the boy stammers while he desperately tries to keep the gigantic pile of potato sacks from burying him alive.

Then a new, female voice cuts through the argumentation, her voice final and yet smooth, like poisonous honey, "Don't be so harsh with the kid, Jeff. I bet it was just a mistake. Besides, it could've been worse, right? Everyone loves potatoes."

Dean shifts behind the window, just enough to catch a glimpse at the new stranger.

His jaw clenches at the familiar face;

Miss Tinkle.

He raises his phone back to his ear, his voice low and tight, "You get the witch-killing bullets ready. I'll scope out the canteen and torch their storage room tonight, just in case... before anyone else eats of this cursed crap."

...

Behind the corner of the last step of the staircase, hidden in the shadows... is you. Pressed up against the wall. Hand clasped over your mouth to muffle your ragged breath. Heart racing along your reeling mind.

Witch-killing bullets? What the hell is he talking about? Is he trying to kill someone? And why does he plan on breaking into the canteen tonight to burn their food..?

J / NOTE @lamentationsofalonelypotato (and anyone else for that matter :D ) You have any guesses what's going on yet? 😏

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*Disclaimer: Images and gifs are from Pinterest.*

#lovely moots 💕#i <3 your feedback sm

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