#also think i forgot day 3 but idc
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daipeanutsaiban · 25 days ago
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tgaa fan comic ft. my oc mycroft, set some time after 1-5 (shortly after susato's return to britain),, i learned a lot making this, and i'm excited to share more comics in the future!! ^^
special thanks to my best friend jamie who came up with iris's nickname for mycroft (which, ironically, is similar to yujin's)!!
also i haven't drawn ryunosuke in so long and it's him choking on his own spit lmao
and now for some silly extras:
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renirae · 6 months ago
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FABLEHAVEN MOVIE IS REAL??? oh my god that is my FAVOURITE book series. please god I hope it ends up being good <3
(I'm keeping my expectations very low of course lmao, I've been burned wayyy too many times by bad movie adaptations. but honestly I'll just be happy if it brings more people into reading the book series!!
other than one or two things (*cough cough the horrific disaster of Brackendra cough cough*) it's such a SEVERELY underrated series and one of the only childhood favourites of mine that has actually held up enough that I enjoy rereading it to this day!!!) (also hands-down the best inclusion of indigenous peoples into worldbuilding that I've ever seen, which is really cool!!)
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pirunika · 7 months ago
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girls when they realise they havent done anything to make themselves happy since...girls when they cant tell the last time they made a decision for their happiness
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starsnobugs · 2 years ago
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kyber-crystal · 5 months ago
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10 things i hate about you || f.w.
summary: rumor has it that you and fred weasley are going out. being the instigators you two are, you decide to play into said rumors. but just how far could you go before you lose sight of the line between fiction and reality? 
words: ~7.9k LMFAO I REALLY WENT OVERBOARD HERE
warnings: cheesiness, cliche 10 things i hate about you vibes, both y/n and fred being oblivious idiots. what’s more to love
a/n: you thought i’d avoid writing another fake dating fic? with fred? NEVER. ik there r some fake dating fred fics out there but i swear we need MORE bc this is the best trope ever idc. also made up a name for the school paper cs i forgot if it was a thing in the books/movies lol. reader is an implied gryffindor/ravenclaw but can technically be in whatever house you’d like : )
add yourself to my hp taglist here!
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The problem with Hogwarts was that rumors spread through its halls like fiendfyre.
It all started during the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Harry had narrowly caught the Snitch after a Dementor false alarm and carried the team to victory, causing the stadium to explode into ground-shaking cheers.  Waves of deep crimson and gold were pouring onto the field and you almost got trampled in the midst of it until someone pulled you into the center. 
“There you are—I was looking all over for you,” Fred beamed. “You were watching, right?”
“I was sitting front row…you literally saw me, Fred,” you stated plainly. 
“I know, but I wanted to make sure,” he winked at you, sidelining you into a hug. “You look very pretty, by the way. I think my hat looks better on you than me.”
“Anddd there’s the woman of the hour! He couldn’t stop staring at you—almost crashed into the teachers’ section ‘cause of that,” Lee came over and clasped your shoulder. 
“That’s what that was all about? Freddie, you need to get it together!”
“Can’t help when you’re as alluring as a Veela,” the compliment rolled effortlessly off his tongue. He then tilted his chin down to kiss your forehead, and you didn’t bother pushing him away despite the fact that he was all sweaty after being up in the air. 
A bright flash of light pulled you out of Fred’s embrace, and you blinked to see Colin standing there with a wide grin on his face, camera in hand. 
“Just capturing the moment,” the younger Gryffindor said excitedly. “This is gonna be a good one!”
You thought nothing of it until you went down to the Great Hall for breakfast the following morning. You went over to find your Ravenclaw friends, who seemed to be huddled around something, staring at it intensely.
“Oh, hey Y/N!” Cho beamed brightly at you, moving over to make room for you to sit next to her. “Have you seen the latest school newsletter?”
You filled your plate and took a copy of the Hogwarts Daily Digest that Padma gave you. “No…what’s it all about?”
“Check page 3,” she told you. You took a bite of your toast first, pausing as you scanned over the page. At the front and center was a moving picture of you and Fred embracing, him pressing a kiss to your temple, smiles of pure bliss on both your faces. You had to admit that Colin had a way with pictures; so much so that you almost would’ve believed you and Fred were a true couple just by looking at the article. 
“So we’re going out, apparently,” you said, taking another bite of your food, “...Interesting.”
“Several students were interviewed about it, and they’re wondering if you guys are,” Cho explained. “With the way he kept looking over at you during the game, and how he was searching for you after it ended.” 
“I—I’ve ought to talk to Fred himself, see what he thinks about this—” you spluttered, feeling hot all of a sudden. “I just—we’re not even—”
“But you would be very cute together,” your best friend added. “I mean, you have known each other for how long now? It wouldn’t come as a surprise to anyone if you were.”
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At the end of the day, you went to the library to squeeze in some quiet alone time for reading, curling up on one of the plushy sofas near the bookshelves. You were deep into a mythical book that Hermione recommended, fully zoned in for what felt like forever until the cushion sank a bit, indicating that someone had sat down next to you.
“What do you want, Fred,” you sighed without even looking up from your book. “Come to bother me again?”
He took the book from your hands in response and closed it. 
“Hey, I was reading that—” you began. 
“I wanted to ask you about the article,” he stated, “don’t you think Creevey’s quite the photographer?”
You scoffed. “If this is about us being a couple, you know we’re not.”
“I was going to suggest something else.”
“And what is that?”
“Given that half the school is talking about us already,” he referred to the whispers in the halls that followed you from class to class, “why not play into the rumors a bit?”
“So you’re suggesting that, what?”
“That we say we’re a couple.”
“...you want to pretend that we’re going out?”
“Why not?” 
“That’s insane,” you shot him a glare. “What do either of us get out of it?”
“Practice, of course,” Fred had a proud look on, “but also, why not have some fun with it?”
You stopped and thought about it for a second. He was right—who were you to not want to have a bit of fun? After all, it was just Fred; it couldn’t be that hard to fake-date someone, especially when you had no real feelings for them.
“Fine, but only on one condition.”
“What’s that, love?”
“Promise not to fall in love with me?” You stuck your hand out towards him. 
Fred took it and gave it a firm shake, his signature mischievous grin making its appearance. “As long as you don’t fall for me either.”
“Dream on.”
He leans forward, voice dropping to a low whisper. “10 galleons says you’ll fall in love with me first.”
“Oh, please. 20 says you won’t even last half as long.”
“You’re on.”
So it began—settling into the whole routine was surprisingly easy. But of course, it was probably easier since you had money on the line; asides from George, you and Fred were the most competitive people in the entire school. You’d do anything for extra money, glory, and infinite bragging rights. 
Making it a point to one-up each other, you began to brainstorm ways to really play up the whole “fake girlfriend” thing.
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i. the pda competition, part 1
Monday afternoon’s Potions lesson proceeded as always, with Snape’s annoying, drawling voice instructing you on what to do. 
Today’s class was boring but ended early, the only downside being that you were assigned a hefty load of homework. 
“By the beginning of Wednesday’s class, you shall turn in to me two feet of parchment on the history of Strengthening Solution and its’ properties…” Snape ordered, “...for now, follow the instructions on the board. Ingredients are in the back. I expect the utmost perfection and accuracy…those who fail shall not be tolerated.”
Groaning internally, you headed to the back of the classroom towards the supply cabinets, Fred following close behind. Either Snape was out to get you both or it was sheer luck that had you paired together for this assignment. 
“Wait, you forgot something,” Fred called out as you were about to walk away. 
You turned around, a snarky reply ready. “What is—”
You didn’t even have the chance to finish your sentence when he grabbed you by the wrist and tugged you into his chest, kissing you square on the lips. You were completely taken by surprise and had no time to react whatsoever. 
Low wolf-whistles and “ooohs” reverbrated throughout the entire classroom as you broke apart. 
“What was that for?” you hissed. 
There was a devilish grin on his face, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it right off him. “Just trying to be a good fake boyfriend, of course,” he whispered into your ear.
“Touch me again without warning and I’ll break your nose,” you said in a low tone, ignoring the heat rising up your cheeks.
“Miss Y/L/N…Mr. Weasley…” Snape said lowly, “...back to your seats, both of you. This is a classroom, not a bedroom. Get to work.”
Several students giggled at this and you huffed, heading back to your seat. You didn’t speak more than a few sentences to Fred for the remainder of the lesson, face still flushed from the sudden incident. He kept stealing glances at you as you worked in silence, adding the ingredients into your bubbling cauldron with careful, precise movements.
“That’s 1-0 to me,” he reminded you. “Better hurry and catch up, or I’m winning those Galleons.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you muttered, uncapping the bottle in front of you and pouring some of the liquid in.
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ii. the pda competition, part 2
After Fred had kissed you in the middle of a packed classroom, you were determined to get back at him, racking your brain for ideas. 
You sat under a sprawling tree by the Great Lake with Cedric, Cho, Padma, Ernie, and several other Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students. Somehow, you got lucky and all had matching free periods today, taking the opportunity to have a picnic by the water together. 
“A little birdie told me that you and a special someone were going out,” Cedric pointed a finger at you, the other arm slung around Cho’s shoulders. “Now what’s going on?”
“They’ve always been mad about each other, only took them a million years to see it,” Ernie butted in. “Isn’t it obvious? One would think they’re already married at this point, though.” 
“Who’s married to who?” you heard someone ask from behind you. 
“Speak of the devil,” Ernie said, “there he is!”
“Was going to check on you—see you at supper?” Fred lightly touched your cheek. You nodded blindly, the skin of his hand hot on your face. 
“Okay, I’ll meet you there.”
You turned back around to see everyone smirking at you knowingly. 
“What?” you questioned, adjusting the collar of your shirt as if nothing had happened. 
“Aren’t you two the cutest,” Cho laughed breathily, “Ernie was right. It’s like you’re married.”
“Oh shut up, we’re still much too young for that.”
“Not for long!” 
Of course the only empty seat at the Gryffindor table that evening was next to Fred, and he made sure that you were sitting as close to him as humanly possible. All it would take was an extra few inches and you’d fully be sitting on his lap. You shook off the embarrassment and snapped back into it, determined to win the bet.
“I missed you all day, you know,” he admitted, placing a dinner roll onto your plate for you. “Where have you been?”
“By the lakes,” you said matter-of-factly. “Where else would I be?”
“With me, obviously.” 
“I’d rather be anywhere else.”
“Well that hurt,” he pretended to look hurt. “I thought I was your favorite.”
“Second to last,” you joked. “Hey, wait—there’s something on your mouth.”
“Where?” he tried motioning around with his fingers but to no avail. 
“Right…here…” you murmured, gently grasping his chin and pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of his lip, tasting a hint of the sweet cranberry sauce he’d been eating on the tip of your tongue. Loud gasps erupted through the Great Hall at the sudden private but public display. 
Fred inhaled sharply—he knew you were bold, but like this? For once, the jokester had nothing sarcastic to counter you with and was at a loss for words. 
When you pulled away, both yours and his faces were a shade of deep scarlet.
“Cat got your tongue?” you smirked, discreetly slipping a sheet of paper into his back pocket. “That’s 1-1 now, Fred.”
Again, Fred was left speechless. 
“I feel like I’m interrupting something very…” Ron coughed, damn near choking on his chicken leg. “Intimate. Scandalous. Very—”
“Shut it, Ronald,” you cut him off. “Can’t a girl snog her boyfriend when she wants?”
More jaws dropped at your reply, and you simply continued eating, a victorious grin on your face. Fred looked down and fished the note out of his pocket, unfolding the smooth parchment to reveal your tidy penmanship. 
Now who’s the flustered one? you know where to find me if you need me xx
You were so going to win. 
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iii. the serenade
You found yourself sitting on the bench watching the Gryffindor Quidditch team practice—it was Fred’s idea to show up to as many of them as possible to really sell the whole “fake dating” thing. You didn’t mind all that much, as you got bored easily and liked to have a change of scenery every so often while you were studying. 
A loud, abrupt screech caused you to look up from your textbook and you winced, covering your ears. 
“You’re just too good to be true…can’t take my eyes off of you…” a melodic voice began flowing across the stadium. Confused, you set your book down and stood up, looking around for the source of the noise. 
“You’d be like Heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much…at long last love has arrived…” 
Fred suddenly appeared from the commentator’s box, holding a microphone. He casually leaned against the pole before sliding down and hitting the bleachers, gracefully making his way down the steps. 
“...And I thank God I’m alive…” his eyes remained focused on you, blazing gold and green. “You’re just too good to be true…” 
“What the—”
He spun around and pointed at you, the corners of his lips quirking up in a childish grin, “...Can’t take my eyes off of you.”
“HIT IT, WOOD!” you heard someone (was that Lee?) yell, and music began blasting from the speakers.
Your friends were eyeing you with delight, fully entertained by the fact that you had absolutely no clue what was happening. Fred continued singing while he sauntered down the bleachers with a grace that you had never seen. 
“I love you, baby, and if it's quite alright
I need you, baby, to warm the lonely night
I love you, baby, trust in me when I say
Oh, pretty baby, don't bring me down, I pray
Oh, pretty baby, now that I found you, stay
And let me love you, baby, let me love you”
A blush coated your cheeks as he finally approached you, taking one of your hands in his and twirling you around. He held your gaze the entire time, eyes alight with what looked like genuine joy and passion. The rest of your classmates joined in as they crowded around you, joining together in one voice. 
It was impossible to hold back the smile creeping up your face as Fred continued to sing—he was undeniably charming, and you had to admit, this was well worth suffering a brief loss for. 
“Oh pretty baby, trust in me when I say…” the final lyrics left his mouth and everyone burst into applause. He made a show of bowing dramatically and kissing your hand in an exaggerated motion. 
You rolled your eyes at the overly extravagant gesture. But deep down, you had enjoyed every second of the impromptu serenade. 
Within minutes after it ended, Fred’s musical spectacle was the talk of the school. Students nudged each other in the corridors as you passed by, whispering words of encouragement, saying how they wished for a relationship like yours, and wondering where they could possibly find someone like Fred. 
You felt him slip something into your robe’s pocket. Fred had sidled up next to you as you headed up the stairs to the common room, still grinning widely. 
“2-1,” he reminded you, kissing your cheek before turning to the Fat Lady and uttering the password. He stepped through the portrait hole and turned back to wait for you, then walked all the way inside. “Better continue that game of catch up, I might just steal the title of ‘best fake partner ever’ from you.”
There’s that beautiful smile, the note read. Keep it on for me, will you?
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iv. the nightmare
Your body seemed to have a mind of its own, because it was 3:27 a.m. and you were wide awake after barely squeezing in a few hours of sleep. 
Nothing you did worked; even the Potion for Dreamless Sleep had failed to keep the nightmares at bay. You didn’t last long before jolting awake, beads of sweat forming at your forehead and chest heaving with raggedy, jagged breaths. 
After several minutes of tossing and turning you gave up, quietly tiptoeing down the stairs to the common room. The fireplace was on, indicating that someone was already there—
“Y/N?” Fred turned around from his spot on the couch to look at you. “What’re you doing up at this hour?”
You yawned, “I could ask you the same thing.”
“Finishing an assignment,” he sighed, rubbing his forehead. Sheets of parchment, a vial of ink, and several books were spread out on the coffee table. “You?”
“Nothing,” you lied, sitting down next to him. “Couldn’t sleep.”
He didn’t miss the hoarse tone in your voice nor your tear-stained face, stopping what he was doing to fully focus on you. “Now I know that’s not true. What’s bothering you, really?”
“I said I’m fine, just can’t sleep.” You let out a shuddering sigh and attempted to will the tears away, but your vision began to blur. “Go finish your work—”
“Hey.” Fred’s voice was soft. “Come here.”
His arms gingerly wrapped around your trembling frame to envelop you into a tight hug. He reached one hand up to smooth out your hair as you shook with silent sobs, your hands curling  into the fabric of his robes as if holding onto him would keep you from slipping away and losing yourself again. 
Fred was never one to be patient, but he knew that you just needed this moment free of chaos. So he waited, laying there with you as he continued murmuring soothing words into your ear, gently rubbing your back; he’d wait for as long as he’d need to. 
You didn’t know how much time passed until the tears ran themselves dry and your throat felt like it had been scraped raw. 
“Want to tell me what happened?” he suggested. “But only if you’re comfortable, that is.”
You hesitated, wondering if it was a good idea to tell him. Maybe he’d think you were strange…but seeing how he looked so genuine in that moment changed your mind. 
“I lost you…I lost everyone. I watched you die, Fred.” Your voice was cracked and raw, which sent a pang through his chest. The image of Fred’s lifeless body trapped between the rubble flashed across your vision, feeling as if it was wrapping its cold fingers around your throat. “I watched you all die and I couldn’t save you.”
“But I’m alive and well right now, aren’t I?” he assured you calmly, “I’ll be here for as long as you want me around. You’ll have to fight to the death to get rid of me.”
Managing a broken laugh, you looked up at him. “Really?”
“Really. What are fake boyfriends for, anyway?” His hand found its place against your cheek, fingers gently skimming across your skin. You leaned into his touch and let out a sigh, lips just barely brushing over his palm.  
“No one’s here, Fred…you don’t need to pretend.”
“I know I don’t.” Any and all traces of half-witted sarcasm were gone; wiped clean off his face. Instead, his eyes were glossed over with concern as they raked over yours. “Figured I could keep you company? Since I didn’t want you to be alone in your head like this.”
“I’d like that.”
He then passed a familiar folded square to you, and you opened it with a smile.
I’m here, whenever you need - F.W
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v. the hospital wing run-in
“For Godric’s sake, how many more times will I have to see you in here?” Madam Pomfrey demanded as she hurried around, setting a metal tray by your bedside. “This is the third time this month.”
“Sorry,” you winced as you shifted your injured leg onto the pillow she’d set out. 
“What is it this time?”
“I broke my ankle.”
“Doing what, exactly?”
Pursing your lips, you elected to tell her the modified version of the story, which was the one where you had tripped while going down the stairs, not the one that included running down the Astronomy Tower after sneaking up there for a dare (the twins’ doing). 
She shook her head in disbelief, glancing over the cuts on your face and fixing the bandages around your foot. “You’ll be in here for a few days. We’ll have to regrow the bones in your foot and ankle…my, how someone can break this many bones just from missing a step, I can’t seem to understand…what are all of you doing here?”
You followed her gaze to where Hermione, Ginny, Cho, and Fred were standing by the hospital wing’s entrance, alight with excitement upon seeing that you were awake.
“Guys—”
“Miss Granger, Miss Weasley, and Mr. Weasley, need I remind you that no visitors are allowed at this time! I advise that you all head back,” Madam Pomfrey ordered sharply. 
“But we haven’t seen her all last night and this morning! Can we just stay for a minute,” Hermione begged. “Please?”
The older woman sighed as she scanned your friends (and fake? boyfriend’s) desperate, pleading faces. “...Alright, then. Don’t stay too long and for Godric’s sake, let her breathe.”
They immediately crowded around your bed and Fred walked over to your side, crouching down so that you were eye level with him. 
“There’s my princess,” his charming persona was back in full force, and he smoothly brushed a few stray hairs out of your face. For what felt like the eleventh time, he was swooping in to kiss your cheek. Not that you were counting. “How’re you feeling?”
“Better now that you’re here,” you winked as you attempted to prop yourself into an upright position, but failed, giving up and flopping back down. “Ow. My foot.”
Ginny pretended to throw up on Hermione, who then elbowed her in the stomach.  “Ow!” she yelped. “What was that for?” 
“Let’s leave the happy couple alone,” she hissed, and they slowly backed away to give you some space. 
Fred pulled up a chair next to your bedside, propping his chin in his hand to stare at you. “I’m sorry, really. I didn’t mean for you to end up with five broken bones.”
“And a concussion, a killer headache, and not to mention dozens of sore muscles,” you grimaced, but felt a slight ache in your chest when you realized he looked genuinely guilty. “I don’t blame you, really. I mean, I was just as stupid and reckless. I definitely could’ve been more careful but I wasn’t.”
“I’m supposed to mess up your lipstick,” he groaned, “not your bones.”
“Someone took ‘public displays of affection’ the wrong way,” you said sarcastically, and then there was a brief moment of silence before you both burst into laughter.
“Damn right he di—OW, Hermione!”
“Gin, let’s go!” With that, the two girls left the hospital wing, leaving the two of you alone.
“Why are you here, anyway? Hermione and Ginny are because they’re my friends, and you’re my—”
“—lovely, charming, undeniably handsome boyfriend, of course. Why wouldn’t I be here?” Fred finished your sentence for you.
“Right,” your voice was dripping with sarcasm, “I just can’t seem to get rid of you, can I? It seems like you’re always around.”
“And yet, you don’t push me away,” a smile tugged at his lips. “Which clearly means that I’m just that irresistible. I don’t need a charm or some silly love potion to reel you in.”
“Don’t think that because I’m incapacitated, this game is over,” you warned him. “I will beat your arse to a pulp, and you’ll be twenty Galleons lighter. I bet you’re madly in love with me already.”
“Believe what you want, my darling,” he sing-songed, twirling his wand between his fingers. “But we all know I’ve already won this game.”
“Yeah, right. We’re tied now, by the way. That’s for getting me injured.”
“Oi! You can’t just—”
“Shh…don’t come crying to me ‘till you lose.”
He ended up staying overnight. 
You didn’t protest at all. 
Neither did Madam Pomfrey later that evening after seeing him slumped over on your bed, fast asleep, one hand clutching yours like you were the only thing he had left to lose. 
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vi. the howler 
For once you managed to get to the Great Hall before Fred did. The bloke was always criminally late or ridiculously early to everything; it was almost laughable how there was no in between for him. 
He finally showed up just ten minutes before breakfast was supposed to end, breathing hard with his hair all messed up.
“What’d I miss?” he asked you.
“Nothing,” you responded. “Just another ordinary day…”
A gust of wind suddenly swept through the hallway causing the napkins to flutter in the air. A giant grey owl came swooping down onto the table and landed straight in front of Fred, clutching an envelope in its curved talons. 
“What’s Errol doing here? We’re not supposed to get our daily mail til’ tomorrow,” Ron gawked, “surprised that he’s here given the number of times he’s collapsed mid-delivery—oh blimey Fred, you must be in trouble! You’ve got a Howler!”
Several Gryffindors around you giggled at this. 
With a slight look of confusion and fear, Fred carefully removed the seal on the bright red envelope. Molly Weasley’s booming voice immediately came bursting from the pages. 
“FRED WEASLEY, HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME THAT YOU WERE DATING MY FUTURE DAUGHTER-IN-LAW! I AM DISAPPOINTED IN YOU—Y/N dear, if you’re hearing this, I’m very happy for you and hope to see you at the Burrow soon, I’ll make sure to whip up some homemade custard for you—YOU OUGHT TO TREAT HER RIGHT, BOY, OR ELSE! I BROUGHT YOU INTO THIS WORLD AND I SURE AS MERLIN CAN TAKE YOU RIGHT OUT!”
A silence fell over the entire Great Hall and Fred sat there, in shock. The red envelope folded itself up and then burst into flames, its ashes crumbling to the floor. 
“I’ve never seen him turn that red,” George sniggered. “You’re bloody brilliant, Y/N.”
“Y-you did this?” Fred spluttered. 
“Can’t say I didn’t,” you hummed, patting his head affectionately. “Your mum was bound to find out, one way or another.”
“And you thought this was the best idea?”
“Aww, is little Freddie all embarrassed?” you teased. “Never thought I’d live to see that day.”
“Quit gloating,” the redhead grumbled. “You haven’t won yet. Better sleep with one eye open tonight.”
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vii. the pda competition, part ∞
As it turned out, continuing to slip into your fake relationship only became more fun as the days and weeks dragged on. And being competitive only added to the fun, as you were scrambling to one-up each other. 
You often opted to hold his hand when walking from place to place, which wasn’t difficult given that you were almost always with him now and had to sell the idea that you really were together. His hands were rough and calloused from all those hours working on joke shop prototypes, but they were still surprisingly comforting. A way to keep you grounded when your head got stuck in the clouds. 
Fred’s signature move was, of course, dropping random kisses on your cheek when you didn’t expect it. Sometimes, when he was feeling bolder than usual, that would change to the tender spot between your ear and jaw, your shoulder, or your nose. And each of those times he made sure they were extra drawn-out and that you were in a crowded area so others would see it. The courtyard. The Quidditch pitch. The classroom (two of those incidents were in Potions, much to Snape’s dismay. He didn’t even bother taking points off due to being too disgusted).
“I have a massive exam today,” he declared loudly to you as you stood in front of his upcoming class together. “I think I’m going to need a kiss.”
“Why?” you scoffed. “What do you need that for?”
“For good luck,” Fred said, “it’s kind of a tradition, isn’t it?”
“You…want a kiss for good luck?” you started.  
“I’m waiting…” he sang, face turned slightly in an invitation. You sighed and went up on your tiptoes, doing as he asked. “Thank you. But you have terrible aim…you missed.”
“I fear you’re having way too much fun with this,” you muttered. “Don’t make excuses. My lips are not going near yours unless they absolutely need to now.”
“Oh come on, you know you’re having loads of fun too,” he called out as he walked into the classroom. “Catch you later, sweetheart!”
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viii. the butterbeer (alt: the pda competition, part ∞)
It was the day of another Hogsmeade outing and you were hand-in-hand with Fred as you walked down the cobblestone streets together. You had planned to spend the day alone for the most part and join Cho for a meal, but Fred had cornered you at breakfast and insisted you go on a date with him.
“To keep up the façade,” he insisted. “Wouldn’t people find it odd if the castle’s favorite couple wasn’t together?” 
You nodded and didn’t protest further; you had no energy to do so anyway. It was far too cold for your taste; you had been dragged out without having time to grab your gloves, blowing hot hair into your hands that were steadily growing numb. 
“Love,” he called for you as he took your hands in his, “oh, your fingers feel like ice.”
“No…shit…” your teeth chattered as you attempted to respond steadily. “Might lose ‘em if we don’t hurry up and get inside—”
“Wait one second,” Fred said as you two stopped right outside the Three Broomsticks, wasting no more time in taking his gloves off and handing them to you to put on, while he wrapped his house scarf around your neck. “There. Let’s head in.”
“But—”
“Boyfriend duties, remember?” he winked at you as he pushed the door open, holding it for you to step inside first. “Come on. I think a butterbeer or two’ll warm you up.”
Fred’s hand remained on the small of your back, pressing in gently to lead you to a cozy booth in the back. The added warmth felt quite nice, you thought, but you also wondered how he managed to stay like a human furnace when it the weather outside was so dreadfully cold. 
It was hard not to stare at him; catching his gaze every so often while sipping your drink. His hair was all tousled from the frigid winds; you took notice of the way it slightly curled out at the ends, glowing under the hazy yellow bar lights. It was annoyingly endearing how he could look so flawless without any effort and even more so that you didn’t have anything snarky to say. 
“Fred, I think we’re being followed…” you whispered as you scanned the near vicinity, fingers brushing against the rim of your mug. There in the far opposite corner sat Padma, Ernie, Cedric, and Cho, attempting to look nonchalant as if they weren’t half-stalking you but they were doing a rather terrible job at it. You quickly looked away.
“So? Isn’t that what we want—for people to see us?” he countered with a tone of confidence. His voice dropped low as he continued to speak to you. “Why don’t we give them a show? No need to be so private.”
Your face burned. “What do you—”
“Not like that,” he chuckled lowly, “what did you think I meant?”
“I…”
Fred paused, then raised his hand and brushed something off your cheek with his thumb. “You’ve got something on your face.”
“Oh, so we’re playing that game now, are we?”
“Indeed, my lady.”
You scoffed quietly and imitated his motion, reaching up to smooth out the crease that had formed between his brows. “Put a smile on your face, why don’t you? You look better that way.”
“I always look good, though.”
“I look better than your greasy arse.”
“Oh, shut up.”
“Oh yeah?” you challenged. “I’d like to see you tr—”
Before you could say anything else and before he could stop himself from what he was doing, Fred placed a hand on the nape of you neck and pulled you in, kissing you without another word. All protests left behind flew right out the window (along with your morals, too, you thought) and for a split second, it almost didn’t feel like you were pretending at all. 
When you broke apart eventually, breaths a little heavy, neither of you needed to look over to see that your friends were gaping in shock, mouths dropped wide open. Sure, Fred was confident and cocky and you were equally so, but both of you would be lying if you said this didn’t take you by surprise. 
“You still keeping track?” His voice still had that low, almost husky tone to it. He was cupping your cheek now, and you let him keep doing so. “There can only be one victor, right?”
“Wouldn’t forget it,” you exhaled. “You think we look convincing enough right now?”
“Without a shadow of a doubt.”
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ix.  the thunderstorm 
The day’s exciting Care of Magical Creatures lesson was cut thirty minutes short due to the heavy downpour that had suddenly came crashing down, bringing with it a booming thunderstorm and soaking all your clothes within minutes. 
“Well, that’s it fer today, everyone,” Hagrid announced, “now let’s head back inside, don’ want yeh to catch a cold, we’ll continue when the weather lets up…”
You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and flipped the hood on over your head, eyes narrowing as you stared up at the suddenly stormy grey sky. It just had to be on the one day you got to go outside and do something exciting, damn it….
It was freezing, nearly as horrible as that one day in Hogsmeade, and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to simply curl up by the fireplace with Hermione, the Patil twins, and Cho, and talk all evening long. If you could even make it back to the castle in one, unfrozen piece, maybe you’d at least get your hands on some hot chocolate from the kitchens…
A warm hand found yours amidst the strong winds, and all of a sudden you didn’t feel so cold anymore. 
As if he had read your mind, Fred said, “how about we sneak into the kitchens and grab something to drink? Hot chocolate, perhaps?”
“Sounds perfect,” you smiled and he draped an arm over your shoulders, bringing you into his side. It felt so natural now, like this wasn’t part of some long-standing bet to fool the whole school; as if you were just two best friends trying to keep warm in subpar temperatures. And it was almost too easy to get used to it. 
“Oblivious idiots. I told them for years that they’d be perfect together and it’s only this year that they start going out,” George exclaimed from several yards behind, walking side-by-side with Lee Jordan. “Dunno why it took them so long.”
“Love takes time, obviously,” said Lee as he watched Fred lean into your ear and say something, and you giggled lightly in response, “and now, what matters is that I finally have an excuse to make fun of them during Quidditch matches.”
“Oh—good point.”
“And you’ve noticed that he stopped pranking her? Unlike him, isn’t it?” 
“Wait…” George paused as he took in Lee’s questions. His mouth formed an ‘o’ in realization. “He’s utterly whipped, that git.”
“What happens when boyfriend duties overcome prankster duties…this is perfect. Professor Flitwick owes me 2 galleons. I called it that he’d fall first!” 
“You bet on them?” George squawked. “With Flitwick?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t either,” Lee laughed, “I know you did too.”
The expression on George’s face shifted into one of defeat. “I lost,” he muttered, “I owe McGonagall 3 galleons.”
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x. verum exeat (let the truth come out) 
The Gryffindor common room was alight with chatter once again. After a long, grueling week of exam revisions, Quidditch practice, and a brutal match to be remembered, Lee and the twins decided that a small celebration was in order. They had originally planned on inviting half the damn school but after arguing with Hermione, had to shrink the party down to just their smaller, usual friend group (they swore up and down that they’d clean up and not get detention like last time, but she wouldn’t buy it). 
But you knew that if things had the Weasley twins’ names pasted next to them, they’d be far from peaceful; as far as you could possibly get—no matter how big or small. 
“Oh, there you are,” you heard someone say from behind, and turned around to see that it was Hermione.
“Not drinking?”
“Someone’s got to take care of the boys after they go wild, right?” she explained. “Besides…I can’t stand the taste of firewhisky. It burns.”
You offered a tired half-smile and agreed. “Yeah. You’re right.”
Hermione seemed to be deep in thought for a moment until she told you, “You’re very lucky, you know.”
“What are you talking about?” 
“To have Fred, that is. To find someone who’s that in love with you, it’s quite rare.” 
“Oh, please,” you tried to suppress a laugh, “I told you why we’re doing what we’re doing.” 
“And?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at you, “feelings change. Bet or no bet, he cares about you and anyone would be crazy not to see that. Ronald is half-blind and he can tell, too. You can’t possibly tell me that everything you’ve done up to this point has been a lie.” 
“It’s meant nothing to me,” you said bitterly. “I hate him.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. And it doesn’t help that he’s everywhere,” you stopped to take a swig of firewhisky, “and I can’t stand it!”
“Do you not, really?”
“I do, but I—”
“You what?”
“I just hate him!” 
“What do you mean?”
“What do you think? I hate everything about him!” you exclaimed, exasperated. “I hate the way he always tries to compete with me, I hate the way he doesn’t take things seriously, I hate that stupid, annoying little smirk he has on his face half the time I see him—”
You inhaled quickly; it felt like you’d just drank an entire vital of Veritaserum with the way that words were tumbling out of your mouth. Hermione gave you a look that seemed to say ‘Go on,’ so you did, “—I hate the way he walks down to the Great Hall every morning with his annoyingly perfect messy hair, I hate the way he risks freezing his arse off to give me his favorite gloves so that I don’t get hypothermia, I hate the way it’s so easy for him to kiss—borderline snog me like it’s nothing, I hate how this is all just supposed to be a game of pretend, and—and most of all, I hate the way he made me fall in love with him without even trying. I hate the way I don't actually hate him. Not even close, not even a little bit…not even at all…”
“You…really mean that?”
You whirled around to see that Fred was standing right behind you with his hands behind his back, eyes hopeful, and you felt your heart drop down to your stomach. “Fred—”
“Y/N, I—”
Suddenly it seemed like the walls were closing in on you from all sides, the room spinning; and then, everything around you jumbled into one chaotic mess of noise and color. Without looking to see either his or Hermione’s reactions, without caring that half the room had stopped to see what was going on, you pushed past your friends and quickly clambered out of the portrait hole. 
“What was that about?” Ron’s nose crinkled in confusion. “So much for being a cute couple. Now this is just sad.”
“Will you shut it, Ronald,” Hermione whacked him on the shoulder. 
“OW—”
“Stop being so dramatic! Don’t let me catch you drinking even one more shot or I will drag your arse back to bed,” she snapped. 
“Pleeeease do, I would lov—ow, ow, OW! OKAY!” Ron exclaimed as she pinched his ear and began dragging him away. “Okay! I’ll leave them alone, I’ll stop…”
Chest heaving and vision blurring with tears, you rushed outside, desperate for a breath of fresh air. It was quiet in the courtyard asides from the faint trickling of water but that did little to calm you down; it was still too loud, too chaotic, too much. Sitting down at the marbled edge of one of the fountains, you tried to catch your breath and balance, but the world still kept spinning…it felt like it wouldn’t stop spinning; for Merlin’s sake. All you wanted to do was crawl into a hole and disappear forever, or jump off the Astronomy tower and fly off to a distant land. You didn’t want to have to worry about how you poured your entire damn heart out in the middle of the common room about your fake boyfriend.
Your fake boyfriend that you realized, with horror, you had begun to develop not-fake feelings for. 
A chill ran through you at that moment and you shivered.
Then the feeling of something warm—a thick coat—being draped over your shoulders shook you out of your trance. You instinctively slid it tighter around yourself.
“Thought I might find you out here,” said Fred. You opened your mouth, ready to ask how in Godric’s name he knew where you were at all times when he didn’t even have the Maurader’s Map anymore, but stopped. This was Fred Weasley, and you had spent an unhealthy amount of time around each other over the past several months that he had to have picked up on your little habits. He was more observant than he let on. 
“What are you doing out here?” You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. 
“I couldn’t leave you alone outside to freeze, could I?” he asked, sitting down next to you. “What kind of boyfriend would that make me?”
“Please, just…” you inhaled sharply, “I can’t do this. You won. I lost. The game’s over, Weasley.” 
“On a last-name basis now, are we? Ouch,” he said jokingly, but dropped the teasing lilt in his voice when he noticed your eyes starting to water. “Talk to me, Y/N.”
“It just isn’t fair,” you whispered, looking down at your feet. 
“What do you mean?”
“It’s not fair,’” your voice faltered, “you’re not supposed to do that. To do this.”
“Do what?”
“To sabotage the bet. To make me lose track of the scores.”
“Well, I stopped counting, you know,” Fred admitted, tucking a hair behind your hair. “There’s no need to keep track anymore, I think we’ve done enough convincing, don’t you think?”
“But that’s the problem!” your voice cracked as you finally turned to look at him. “It isn’t that I’m probably going to be dozens of Galleons poorer after this. It’s that I’m feeling something I shouldn’t, that…that you made me fall in love with you—”
“Y/N—”
“—I hate the way I care about you far more than I should,” you continued on, “and I hate myself even more for even wishing what we had was real. Because it was all fake, Fred, and you know it. We were faking it, and—”
“Y/N,” he repeated more sternly this time, causing you to stop mid sentence. “Look, I already told you I stopped keeping track. After that night in the common room….that’s when I realized I couldn’t. Lee damn near had to hit me over the head and force-feed me Veritaserum to admit that I was in deep. Galleons and glory be damned, I didn’t care about any of that anymore; it was easy for me to pretend when I was already in love with you.”
“But we weren’t supposed to fall in love, that was the rule,” you sniffed, wiping a tear from your cheek, “I thought we were supposed to follow the rules.”
Fred’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Well, I think some rules are made to be broken.”
And then, he was closing the gap and connecting your lips in a deep kiss. The gentle motion cut through the chilly evening air, washing over you in a blazing heat that had you melting into a haze of firewhisky, adrenaline, and something that smelled distinctly like a crackling log fire and cinnamon. 
You had kissed him multiple times before this, but this one felt different than all the rest. It didn’t feel like you were doing it for show in the slightest; it felt genuine and warm and so real. 
And the biggest difference was that you never wanted it to come to an end. 
“So?” The grin on his face was palpable; contagious, as you broke apart, “What do you say, we stop faking it?”
“Are you fake breaking up with me?” you gasped and pretended to look surprised. “Way to ruin the moment.”
“I’m asking to real-date you, darling,” he said.
“There’s no money on the line this time?”
“No,” he hummed as he leaned forward to kiss you a second time and pretended to think for a second, “but there might be something else on the line instead.”
“And what is that ‘something else?’”
“You’ll have to wait a few years and see.”
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xi. the promise 
—FOUR YEARS LATER—
Fred was a great planner, of course. “Brilliant,” Harry would say, “absolutely brilliant.” He might’ve been a jokester, but he was a very organized jokester. He always knew what he was going to do and when. 
So when it came to you, he thought he had a plan. He thought he had it planned for years; he was thinking fireworks, extravagant displays in the sky, taking you on a sunset ride across Romania on one of Charlie’s dragons. Something to match your free and daring spirit. 
But, the moment ended up presenting itself on its own. 
It was an ordinary night with yours and Hermione’s families joining the Weasleys for a quiet weekend at the Burrow. Mr. Weasley was listening intently as Mr. Granger and Harry explained the function of rubber ducks and the Internet in great detail, and the rest of you chatted with your parents,  Mrs. Weasley, and Mrs. Granger by the kitchen counter about post-graduation plans. 
Mrs. Granger had made an off-hand, passing comment about how lovely your silver bracelet—the one with charms of yours’ and Fred’s initials and Patronuses dangling from it—looked on your wrist. And then Fred was saying, “I know something else that would look great on her,” and taking a small box out of his pocket and flipping it open, revealing a blinding bright, silvery diamond ring. 
Even as shouts of realization and cheers of joy rose up from around the kitchen, the world seemed to fade away into complete silence when he put the ring on your finger and encircled his arms around your torso, kissing your cheek and whispering into your ear, 
“I told you there was something else, didn’t I?” 
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tags: @xhanthexzoria @arkofblake @fictionalsimp449 @polar-myst @katelikeslaughs @lmllsl @schlattandcompany
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almostempty · 7 months ago
Text
Something in your mouth
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(joel miller x f!reader)
The third installment of  Never made it as a wise man aka creed!joel
WC: 8.4k | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Other fics | Rating: 18+ 
Summary: post hand job and phone sex; it’s the leadup and part 1 of these horny bishes goin’ on a date
Note: heyyyyy it’s me and i’m back on my bs . i know i promised the fuckening, but that was summer me and now it’s winter me.. so instead of hiding and never updating, i remembered i have free will so u get the full week lead-up and the first half of the date.. and then i’ll brb with the fuckfest okay? i promise. (also it’s actually almost done this time so it won’t take months). again, i am still merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. hopefully this part 3 is girthy enough to sate your appetite a lil bit  
Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where pt 2 ended, alternating pov, dirty talk, horny yearning, blowjob in the truck, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc, mistakes are all mine
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Thanks to Nickelback for having non stop horny bangerz to quote such as Something in your mouth
major thanks to @hoelaris for this moodboard that made me weep tears of joy bc is it so perfect
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thanks to @magneticecstasy for date joel thots to be ft in this pt and the next, @auteurdelabre for telling me to let them have their happy ending so i can get back to the paris boys faster, to @syd-djarin for support, horny thots, song suggestions etc, and @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the nickelback pedro tiktok edit inspo
it really takes a village or whatever they say <3 
*if u forgot what this is bc i took so long give Part 1 and  Part 2 a read for a refresh <3 
*if i missed ur tag or u want off this ride lemme know 
okay, it's starting now:
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You wake up in Joel’s shirt. It smells more like you than him already, but it still makes you grin devilishly just the same. You go about your day, a few errands and some chores, the whole time with a little more energy than usual. 
When you’re back home and settled in to have a lazy afternoon, you get a little restless. Itchy fingers. It’s hard not to pick up your phone and check your messages again and again. You’re drawn to looking at the picture he sent, the pictures you took, and you can’t help wondering…
Did he wake up thinking of you? Hard, aching, and leaking at the memory of your voice. 
Did he dream of all the nasty things he said he wanted to do to you? Waking up throbbing and frustrated, grinding his cock into the mattress as if you were beneath him. 
Did he wake up and check his phone to confirm you were real? Making it all the way to the shower before surrendering, wishing it was your soft cunt he was fucking instead of his fist. 
You know you’re fucked when just thinking about him thinking about you has you so turned on. It’s so tempting to send him something else. Another picture? An audio message? A thinking of you 😘 text? 
No. No, no, no. 
You can wait him out. Make him work for it a little. He’s a full-grown man. You’ve already given him enough to work with. Plus, you wanna know what he’s gonna come up with next. Right? 
The lazy Sunday ends all too soon and before you know it you’re back to work. Dragging ass into the office with the biggest iced coffee you could buy. You deserve a treat to get through your Monday anyway. 
A little warning bell chimes in the back of your mind as you drop your things on your desk. Ellie grumbles a good morning that matches your enthusiasm for fluorescent lights at 8 am. A little seed of guilt sprouts within you. 
Is it fucked up of you to mess around with Joel? It’s not like it’s something serious. Or, does that make it even worse? There’s no way he would say anything to her about it. 
“Heard you saw Joel again,” she says before you’ve even sat down. Great. 
“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “Still didn’t feel right that he wouldn’t accept anything for helping with my car.” You sink into your chair, hesitating to say more. It’s too early to have a good poker face. 
“So you made him a lasagna?” She questions, staring you down. 
“Men love my meat sauce,” you say with a shrug. 
“Gross,” Ellie grimaces at that, “please, don’t ever say that again.” 
You buy her off with the rest of the cookies you had baked. She’s happy to take the entire container from you and happier to enjoy them all immediately. If she’s suspicious she’s either good at hiding it or you really don’t know how to read her. 
You carry on with your morning catching up on mindless tasks, swirling your coffee around as the ice starts to melt, and trying to stay focused. Ellie turns on her music and you can’t help thinking of Joel again. It’s like he’s infected your mind and every shitty 2000s post-grunge alt-rock song conjures him up. 
You can’t help wondering what exactly he would’ve told Ellie about your surprise visit. Would he have asked about you? Implied anything? You can’t stop yourself from asking. 
“What did he say?” 
Ellie’s head swivels towards you immediately. 
“Who?” 
Instantly you know you messed up. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You shouldn’t still be thinking of him. She prods you about what you said and what you meant. Not accepting a nothing or a never mind. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment twists in your stomach, heat blooms in your cheeks, and your hands are fidgety. 
You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn't be so defensive. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.  
Ellie is sharp–cutthroat–reading your every move. You stare at the empty Tupperware on her desk, hoping it will reveal some sort of escape plan. A strategy to deflect. It’s too late. Her eyes narrow just the slightest bit and she follows your gaze. It clicks. 
“Oh, you meant Joel?” 
You’re so busted. “I..uh,” you don’t know how to finish that thought. 
“Why?” She gives you such a blank-faced look that it’s unsettling. You’re an adult. Why does this feel like you got caught sneaking out to see a boy on a school night?
You try to brush it off, but it sounds more defensive, making it worse. You focus on cracking your knuckles and trying to feign a more casual air. For some reason that means you keep talking. Broken sentences pouring out of you and trailing off into a stiff laugh. 
Mercifully, Ellie cuts you off. Tells you it was Tommy who mentioned it. 
So, he was the one who showed up while you had your legs spread open on Joel’s kitchen counter. The catalyst to your shirt heist and hasty getaway. That makes your face hot for a different reason. 
“Oh. Gross.” Ellie groans.
“What?” 
“You’ve got that look on your face.” 
You snort at that. Only slightly horrified that she’s so adept at picking up the tells on your face. “What look?” 
You suck down the last of your iced coffee, stalling, until you’re just sucking in air. You toss it in the tiny trash bin between the two of you and decide to be honest no matter what she says. You’d rather get ahead of it. 
“Was it a sex lasagna?” Her mouth is pulled into a look of disgust. 
You snort at that before shaking your head, preparing to get it all out. 
“Okay, look. It was a thank-you lasagna.” You pause, trying to figure out exactly how much to share. “I didn’t plan the rest of it. It just…happened. And, fuck, it was so hot.” 
Her face wrinkles with confusion, then disgust, then laughter. It makes your heart rate speed up. 
“I’m sorry,” your words come out like a waterfall. “I don’t want to make things weird. I want us to be friends. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it wasn’t serious. I’ll tell you whatever you want. It was my fault. I showed up without letting him know. I made the first move—” 
“You fold quick,” Ellie notes, interrupting you. She throws her hands up and you shut your mouth, “Look, you’re both adults, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, don’t tell me any of the sex details.” 
“Do you really not care? Or like, you say I don’t care and then treat me like Cheryl in the front office?” you ask. 
“No. I genuinely don’t give a shit. Well, I mean, if you break his heart I’ll have to kill you.”
“Naturally,” you agree with a solemn nod. 
“But,” she pauses to take a breath, tilting her head before continuing, “it would probably be good for him, don’t think he’s had a real date in a while. But don’t come back to me broken-hearted if he’s a dick—that’s just his face.”
“A date?” you echo. 
She groans and rolls her eyes at you, but it’s too late. 
Your mind starts to wander. With Ellie’s blessing, you don’t have a reason not to give it a shot.
The harps are already strumming as you float off into your cloud of dissociation. Your favorite daydream flickers into focus as your eyes glaze over and a dazed grin curls on your face. It’s always that same slo-mo Baywatch-style memory. That one where you caught Joel wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. The original temptation that led you back to him. 
Somehow, every time it replays, there’s a new easter egg just for you. The ghost of a knowing smirk or a sparkly-eyed wink when he catches your eye, like a wicked little tease to pull you deeper into the dream world. 
Sometimes it’s all too visceral. In the privacy of your mind, you’re free to direct the scene how you’d like. Slowly panning over the peek of soft skin and the trail of hair you can see. You can still feel the warmth on your fingertips from when you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of those navy blue boxers. 
Sometimes, you create something new. You’d like to take one of his sun-faded plastic green lawn chairs, drag it to the front porch, and sit yourself down for a show. You wanna watch him mow the grass in the evening heat. 
You can see the sweat beads dotted along his neck and the contour of his marble-sculpted arms as he serpentines along your fantasy world front lawn. 
You can smell the fresh-cut grass and the specific blend of sweaty man pheromones that Aphrodite concocted just for you. 
Your chest swells, lungs expanding, as you breathe slowly and deeply. The illusory scents fill your lungs until you release a deep, yearnful sigh. The imaginary lawn mower almost drowns out the imaginary Fred Durst bellering, It’s just one of those days, from that little stereo on the workbench. 
Before you can transition into another scenario—something bounces off your face, and you flinch with a loud yelp. 
“That was your warning,” Ellie glares at you. “Next time I’m throwing something sharp.” 
“Okay, okay, message received.” You offer a sheepish smile, and she turns around. It seems the Limp Bizkit song was very much not a figment of your imagination. Ellie mutters along to the lyrics behind you, barely audible, as you spin in your chair to get back to work. 
It’s not even five minutes later when you swivel in your chair again with another question for Ellie. 
There’s nothing like having a crush on a man you barely know to truly make you delusional. You know you’ve got it bad, but it’s unfortunately just so much fun to daydream and let your mind run wild with the very limited info you know about the man. 
You don’t want to worry about anything that could go wrong. 
Except for, well, everything. 
You still fret over texting him first or waiting. Should you send another picture with no context? Should you call? Should you wait another day? 
When you notice your chest feeling tight you give yourself a reality check. It’s Monday morning. You’re at work. He’s probably at work. You can figure it out later. A future you problem. 
Joel’s text comes through late in the evening. 
Joel: You wearing my shirt to bed again? 
You’re grinning immediately. At hearing from him first and because he fucking clocked you. You snap a quick photo. Despite being on the spot, it’s thoughtfully crafted. Just enough to show the logo and only your mouth, not your face, no extra skin, no sexy tease. Just a confirmation. You send it off, and his reply buzzes seconds later. 
Joel: More 
You try to bite back the grin still stuck on your face as your fingers dance across the screen. You want to tell him off for being so blunt, but for some reason, it feels like such a compliment. You’ve definitely got it bad if a thirsty one-word text feels like high praise. 
You aren’t going to give in this time. You’ve still got Ellie’s words echoing in your mind. A date. You type back one line. 
You: Gonna have to earn it if you want more 
Your phone rings shortly after your message is delivered. Joel’s name flashes on the screen and your stomach flips. You thought maybe he’d send another dick pic, but now he’s calling you? It does check out that he wouldn’t be the texting type, to be fair.
“Hey,” you answer, voice soft, a little tentative. 
“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?” His drawl is low, rough around the edges and so stupidly sexy it makes your nipples hard. You can just tell he’s already on edge. Delight floods your veins at the idea of him thinking of you all day. 
“You could use a lesson in patience,” your voice is remarkably steady, despite the way your body is lit up. You chew at your lower lip. “Thought I told you that last time we were on the phone,” you chide. 
A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Patience,” he repeats. There’s a pause that has you holding your breath. “I don’t think you’re playin’ fair, baby. Knowing you’re in bed with my shirt on, teasin’ me with another picture.” His voice takes on a husky, knowing tone. “Don’t think it’s patience you’re lookin’ for. Bet I know what you really want.” 
Your breath catches, loud enough he wouldn’t miss it even with his busted phone. You weren’t prepared to be so affected by just the timbre of his voice. It’s fucked up the way he’s got you breathless for no damn good reason. 
You can picture him in his bed. The trademark navy blue sheets. Is he fresh out of the shower? Damp hair and the overpowering scent of whatever 10 in 1 man soap was on sale at the grocery store— 
“Okay. Enlighten me then. What do I want?” you finally reply. 
“You want to hear it,” he continues, smooth and smug, radiating a cocky smirk right through the phone that makes your skin tingle. “You want to hear how you’ve got me hard, sittin’ here thinkin’ about you,” Joel growls, his voice thick with heat. “Thinkin’ about you wearing just my shirt.”
You bite down on your lip to stay quiet. Maybe he’s not in bed at all. Maybe he’s still out in his shop, locked in the office, a couple beers down before he dared to text you. His hair a mess from running his fingers through it, in those faded jeans that cling to him perfectly. 
Either way, it seems almost cruel to stop him with a mouth like that. 
“Thinking about what I’d do if you were here,” he carries on. “You look good in my shirt.” His voice drops even lower. “You’d let me push it up though, wouldn’t you? Just enough so I can see how wet you are for me.” 
You can’t help pressing your thighs together at that thought. If he hears how turned on you are already, you’re definitely going to end up acting out his fantasy over the phone. 
“Fuck.” he mutters, his voice breaking. “You’d let me take my time. Get my hands on those perfect tits again. Soak my fingers with that sweet pussy. Have you so worked up you’d be begging for my cock.” 
He says it like it’s a fact, as if he could come over right now and you’d drag him straight to your bed—or no, like you’d be on him before he could shut the front door. 
It’s so filthy, so confident. You’re so tempted to keep him going, but you pull yourself together. Biting back the whimper stuck in your throat.  
“Well, damn, Joel,” you swallow down the urge to ask for more details. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out then,” you tease with a heavy dash of sarcasm in your tone. 
“Not all of you,” he replies, with a suggestive edge. “Not yet.”
You let out a breath you were holding. “Look, you can’t just get your dick out on the phone, tell me how you wanna touch me, and get your way,” you manage, steady and a little sharp. “Not this time.”
“Not this time?” he echoes, half-laughing, clearly amused. “Alright. Sure. What do you want then?”
There’s a flicker of nervousness that tightens in your chest. You don’t want him to think you’re rejecting him, don’t want to risk losing the momentum of whatever this is. “I’m saying…I do want you. But, if you want more you’re going to have to do more. Show me you mean it. Like…a date.”
He doesn’t answer immediately, and your heart skips as you imagine his reaction. He’s quiet, but you can hear his breathing—measured, like he’s weighing something.
“Shit. You’re serious?” he asks, and there’s a softness now, laced with just enough curiosity to make you think he’s intrigued.
“Dead serious,” you say, adding, “But if you’re not interested in me like that—”
“Oh, I’m interested.” The words come quick, a little sharper than you expect, and they make you beam. “Fine. A date,” he says, like he’s letting the word settle on his tongue. “Friday?”
“Friday.” You confirm and stretch your neck. Your muscles are tense. Shoulders tight. All from his filthy words getting you worked up in half a second and the anxiety of your demand. “Come up with something good,” you tease, your voice slipping into something sultrier, “and maybe we’ll both get what we want.”
There’s a low growl on the other end of the line, tinged with frustration and desire. It makes your pulse throb in your clit. You almost wish you had let him talk you through it before suggesting the date. Hear how worked up he’s been over you. 
“Jesus,” he grumbles. 
Oh, you would’ve turned into a mess and completely forgotten to bring it up. Now you’ve essentially cock blocked yourself until the end of the week. Ugh. 
“You’re gonna drive me mad.” He says. But there’s no animosity in it. Instead, there’s something new in his voice that gives you butterflies. 
“Yep.” 
You’re the one who hangs up first before you can hear anything else that might tempt you to stray from your plan.
……..
It’s late morning when your phone buzzes on your desk the next day, interrupting your excellent cosplay of a ‘productive employee’. You glance at the screen and your heart trips when you see Joel’s name. 
You answer, trying to sound casual despite the fluttery feeling in your chest. “Calling me during business hours, Mr. Miller? You’re going to get me in trouble.” 
Joel snorts softly. “Think we both know you’re the one that likes causin’ trouble.” 
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 
His voice drops lower, quieter. “You need a reminder? Cause I’ve been replaying exactly how much trouble you caused in my kitchen…”
“Don’t.” You nearly hiss into the phone, trying to cut him off before he starts with any graphic retellings. You spin in your chair, grateful when you confirm Ellie has headphones on for once. 
“Right.” His voice is back to a slightly less devastatingly erotic tone. “Wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re at work. 
“Well,” he drawls, the grin evident in his voice now. “You said you wanted a date, so I was thinking.”
You hum, leaning into the teasing tone. “If it’s a chain restaurant I’m canceling right now.”
“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d take you to Applebee’s?”
“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” you quip, laughing at the soft groan he makes in response. “No Applebee’s, no Chili’s, and if you’re thinking about taking me to whatever the fanciest Italian place is in this town, don’t. I’m not going on a first date where you used to take your ex-wife for anniversary dinners.” 
There’s a beat of silence, then a grumbled, “It was Valentine’s, actually.”
You cackle, delighted at your guess. He huffs. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re predictable,” you shoot back, grinning as you cross your legs under your desk. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause nobody has been challenging you.”
“S’that what you are?” he asks, “A challenge?” 
You shift in your chair, the grin on your face is going to make your cheeks burn if he keeps this up. You soften the teasing as you admit. “Maybe a little.” 
“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not convinced.
“If you’re up for it,” you add. Nerves flutter in your stomach now. Maybe he doesn’t want a challenge at all. It’s not like you’ve been hard to get. The silence stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. 
His exasperated sigh crackles through the phone, but it’s laced with something warmer. “Yeah.” But then he exhales, soft and almost self-conscious. “Ain’t a bad thing.”
The words are simple, but they settle somewhere deep, curling warm in your chest. For a moment, the flirty defense falls, and you catch the subtle weight in his voice.
“You’re full of surprises, Joel,” you say finally, your tone gentle.
“Guess you’ll find out,” he murmurs, the words quiet like he’s not sure he’s meant to say them.
Your stomach flutters at the unexpected softness. You knew there was more to him than his bold mouth when his dick is hard or the stoic lone wolf look he wears in his garage. You weren’t expecting him to be…whatever this is now. 
The line goes quiet again, his breathing soft on the other end. “Friday at seven,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than before. “There’s a brewery that Tommy suggested. I’ll pick you up.”
“That sounds nice,” you reply, smiling into the phone.
“Alright,” he mutters. There’s a brief pause, like he’s hesitating, before he says, “See you then.”
He hangs up before you can say anything else, and for a moment, you’re left staring at your phone like an idiot. A grin stuck on your face. Possibly permanently. 
It’s not just the idea of the date. It’s the thought of Joel making a plan, asking for recommendations, and thinking of what you might like. You figured it’d be fun to give him a hard time and all, but you didn’t have real expectations. 
The week stretches on and you’re not sure if it’s moving too fast or too slow. Having a crush is wicked enough, but having a date planned makes you feel slightly insane. It’s like you’re in a cartoon where the world is suddenly brighter and the birds sing just for you. 
You find yourself constantly daydreaming at work. Every Creed song Ellie plays somehow sends you into a fugue state. Snippets of Joel’s voice replay in your head. 
There’s something about the way he said, “Ain’t a bad thing,” that keeps sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It wasn’t even what he said—it was how he said it. Quiet, like he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. It makes you smile like a fool every time you think about it.
The worst is the evenings. At home in your room. Nothing to distract you. Alone with his t-shirt. Re-reading your brief texts. Lingering wistfully over the dick pic he sent like it’s a letter from your long-distance lover. You’ve got to get it together. 
And Joel? He’s just as distracted, though he’d never admit it. At least not to anyone but you. 
At work, his usual rhythm is thrown completely out of whack. He catches himself staring at the same invoice three times before finally filing it away. Tommy catches him with his Breaking Benjamin t-shirt inside out. 
You’re in his head and it’s driving him nuts. He tried to minimize it. Deciding it was just the impulsive way you crashed into his world. You spread like a wildfire in his mind. The kindness in you to deliver a homemade meal. The audaciousness you have to go after what you want. 
He goes weak for a confident woman and you’re so sharp and quick with him. It’s a rush, but not just because of the sexual chemistry. Not just because you’re a novelty or a break in his routine. 
It’s you. It’s the way you’ve got the passion and sharpness with your words, but you’re still soft on the edges. He thinks about the way your voice had dipped when you said, “If you’re up for it,” like you weren’t just teasing but testing something, seeing if he’d push you away.
He’s not used to this. Not the nerves, not the anticipation, and definitely not the way he’s spending too much time wondering what to wear on Friday. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he even dug through the back of his closet, holding up a button-down shirt Ellie had bought him last Christmas like it might bite him. He ends up tossing it back in favor of flannel—it’s still a step up from a faded band t-shirt. 
By Thursday you’re nearly useless. You drive Ellie crazy all morning, spacing out and jumping when she asks you a question. To be respectful, you haven’t mentioned the date and she hasn’t asked. Would Joel have told her? Does she know you’re losing your mind over a man who probably has holes in his sweatpants? Are you equally as pathetic? 
You’re still stuck on that thought when she kicks your chair, startling you back to reality. “Come on,” she demands. “We’re outta here and you’re coming to the Main Street with me. I’ll buy.” 
Turns out you’re a cheap date. The dive bar has strong cocktails and a very limited menu of fried foods to choose from. You sit outside at a picnic table enjoying the warmth of the early summer evening. 
Ellie is easy to get along with. Talking animatedly about her friends. Sharing the hot goss about Cheryl and her divorce. Trying to recruit you to join the company rec league kickball team. It’s all a welcome distraction even though you still have Joel on the brain. 
You do your best not to bring him up but when she mentions him you know you perk up like a heart-eyed fool. Begrudgingly, but with sincerity, Ellie asks if the date is what’s got you so distracted. 
“How did you know?” 
“You’re both worse than teenagers.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought bringing you here might take your mind off it.” 
You snap to attention at her choice of words. “Both?” 
“Don’t.” 
She’s a good friend. You did need the distraction. You’re still smiling about that thought as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom at the bar. There’s a poster taped to the paper towel dispenser for the cover band that plays Saturday nights that catches your eye before you slip your phone out of your pocket. 
You’d blame it on the drinks but the truth is only had one. You hover over the messages. Wondering if he’s really as nervous as you. Fuck it, you decide before sending what you’ve been wondering. 
You: You been thinking about me? 
His message comes through so fast it’s more revealing than the words he typed. 
Joel: Maybe 
Fuck, why does one word have you feeling giddy already? 
Joel: Have you? 
He asks shortly after. You wonder if he’s second guessing himself. Is Joel nervous? 
You: A little  
You figure you’ll give him the same treatment. 
Joel: Haven’t been able to stop, if I’m honest baby 
Heat floods your face as you stare at the screen, and his next message comes before you can respond. 
Joel: Friday’s been feeling real far away 
That has you shaking your head. 
You: Patience is a virtue 
He’s quick to respond again. 
Joel: Never claimed to be a saintly man 
That makes you genuinely laugh. 
You: Good 
……
By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve fully spiraled into a mess of anxiety and excitement. You’re not really the type to overthink a date, but there’s something about the whole scenario that feels different. It’s not just because Joel’s hot—hotter than he has any right to be—but he’s trying. For you. It’s disarming in a way you weren’t expecting. 
You know that the worst-case scenario for the night isn’t bad. You know how to have a good time wherever you are and you are confident that he’s a horny bastard that will put out even if you actively try to sabotage the date. It’s that flickering sensation in your chest that hopes for more. That’s what makes you nervous. 
You’re startled when Joel knocks at your front door. You check your reflection one last time before heading to the door. You figure it’s casual enough for a first date at a brewery. 
Despite everything inside of you that screamed to put your tits on display again—you couldn’t resist wearing the Creed shirt. You tied it up in the front so it accentuates your figure and paired it with a faux leather skirt with a matching black lace set underneath. 
It’s gotta be enough to play at the alt-rock vibe he’s still living in. You look good. Really good. 
But when you open the door he isn’t the only one who’s world gets rocked. Joel stands in front of you like he was plucked from your fantasy. Freshly showered, his damp curls just starting to dry in soft waves. A plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, tan forearms. His dark jeans are markedly not as worn down as the last pair you saw him in, yet the effect on you is just as dastardly. 
It’s unfair, really, how good he looks. You’re left blinking as your mouth goes a little dry while you drink him in. Who’s idea was it to have a date? In public? Fuck. He shifts, a sly smile growing on his face as he rests his hip against the door jam. 
“Hi,” you mumble, still ogling him. 
“You look… real nice,” he says, voice so low and velvety it should be registered as a weapon. 
You know you had a smart-ass remark about the shirt on the tip of your tongue, but it’s gone. Gone… along with your morals. All you’ve got left is the intense, primal desire to do something inappropriate with his arms? Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny gremlins like your idea despite having no logistics or master plan. 
They seem to have no coherent plan of attack at all, to be honest. Bite! Lick! Suck! All you know is that you need him in your mouth until your jaw is sore. 
Joel huffs softly. Amused that you seem speechless. “Didn’t think flannel was all that special baby, you alright?” 
“It’s not the flannel,” you mutter under your breath, but you don't let him hear the rest of that thought: Arms! Arms! Arms! 
You grab your bag and follow him out to the truck, stealing glances at him as he walks ahead of you. You can’t help it. He’s so…solid. Sturdy. Sure of himself. Even when he’s out of his comfort zone. It’s doing something sinful to you. 
The inside of the truck smells faintly like a Black Ice air freshener, a Home Depot on a Sunday morning, and Armor All. The distinctly Joel aesthetic lives up to your imagination. It’s lived in. Comfortable. 
There’s the catchall cupholder of change, receipts, and literal nuts and bolts. The caseless CDs in the storage divider strapped to the sun visor—you recognize a couple like Seether and Three Days Grace. 
Before you can take in every detail though, you’re distracted by just the sight of him driving. It’s absurd, but why does he look this good just driving? Most people can manage to operate a vehicle, but most people don’t look as fuckable as Joel does, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Hand! Thigh! Neck! Fingers! 
You’re reduced to only being able to name anatomical features when you’re this close to him, apparently. Like an alien learning about a man for the first time. An extraterrestrial explorer propelled by the most curious desire to taste and touch every part of Joel—for research. 
You’re so caught up that it takes a while to register the song that’s playing. Of course, it’s more Nickelback. 
You're so much cooler
When you never pull it out
Cause you look so much cuter
With something in your mouth
It breaks the spell he has on you and you laugh, really laugh. Joel looks slightly horrified, having no idea what led to your outburst. When you’ve recovered enough, you let him in on it. 
“Nice first date song. You really know how to set the mood.” 
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t change the song, and you let yourself glance at him again as he drives. His profile glows in the evening sun, and you can’t help thinking how easy it would be to reach over and drag your hand down his chest, and make him pull over so you could climb into his lap. The thought has you pressing your thighs together, your pulse thrumming in your ears. At this rate you’re not going to make it through the night. 
…..
The brewery is trendy. Joel hopes it’s something you like. He tries to focus on the menu, but feels like his brain is short-circuiting. It’s not the overpriced burgers or the craft beers with descriptors that don’t sound like flavors. It’s the way you're leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your hand, smile tugging at your lips. 
The shirt is unfair. The way you’ve got it tied, hugging your body in ways that make his palms itch. Knowing you were touching yourself in the same shirt to the sound of his voice. He’s trying not to stare, trying to be polite, but it’s damn near impossible with you sitting across from him like that. 
“How about this one?” you say, pointing to an option on the menu. “Probably the closest thing to what you’ve got stocked in the shop fridge.” He’d wonder how you knew what he had in the fridge, but his eyes are glued to your finger pointing at the menu and it’s consuming all of his thoughts. 
You ramble on about a few other choices but he doesn’t hear the words. He’s still stuck on your hand. He swears he can still feel the ghost of your touch from the kitchen last week. Shit. His jeans are already feeling tighter than they should. 
He clears his throat, trying to pull it together. “I’ll trust you.”  
You smile wide at that. He’s so fucked. “You know a lot about fancy beer.” Yikes. “You got a favorite on here?” Get it together, he begs himself. 
“Nah, I don’t really like beer,” you say casually. You give him a shrug and point out a cider you’re thinking about trying. His stomach twists. 
“You don’t like beer,” he repeats. “But, you let me take you to a brewery?” His chest feels tight, and he shifts uncomfortably. 
“They have food, too.” you counter. 
“Right.” Why does he feel like he’s so out of his element? He’s been second-guessing everything about this date. He feels his gaze drifting as his eyes shift out of focus, his fingers toy with his bottom lip as he gets lost in his head. 
He knows he can get you worked up just as bad as him over the phone, knows he can make you sing for him with just his fingers, but this? He doesn’t know what you want from him now. Is the date some kind of test? He knows he’s overthinking all of it. 
“Hey.” Your voice brings him back, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I like that you planned something.” 
It seems genuine. The way you look at him with bright eyes and a smirk like you’ve got something to tease him about on the tip of your tongue. “Now ask me a boring first date question,” you instruct with a nod like you’re giving him some kind of permission. 
“What’s your favorite color?” 
You snort laughing at him. If you’re half as nervous as him you don’t show it. 
….
It works. Mostly. Your drinks arrive. The conversation flows more easily. He still gets tripped up here and there but doesn’t disappear on you again. He asks about your job, your family, about where you moved from, and you give him enough to keep things light but still playfully dodge some of his questions. 
Every time he gets flustered, you catch yourself smiling, a little surprised at how much you’re enjoying this. It’s the way he watches you like he’s trying to figure you out. The way he tries. He seems to relax a little and for a moment, you think he might settle into the evening. 
Then he reaches for his water, and it all goes sideways. The dangerously full glass wobbles, tilting just enough to spill halfway across the table. Joel jerks back, cursing dejectedly under his breath as he grabs a napkin to clean it up. 
You can’t help it. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Just loud enough for him to hear. “Trying to get me wet already?” 
His eyes snap to yours. You grin, adding, “Don’t worry, been dripping for you since you showed up at my front door.” 
He makes a sound between a cough and a choke. Stunned. The faintest blush creeps up his neck, reaching all the way to his ears. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but all he manages to get out is a gruff, “Jesus.” 
You lean back in your chair, grinning triumphantly. You didn’t expect him to get so rattled by your comment. Not with how vulgar he’s been on the phone or when he had his hand between your legs. It’s an ego boost to know you’ve got the upper hand at first. 
“Relax,” you purr. 
Then you catch the way he discreetly tries to adjust himself under the table. Clearly unable to relieve the pressure. Knowing the effect you have on him is more intoxicating than the alcohol. An idea strikes you. You know exactly how to get him to relax. 
“Do you have cash?” you ask. 
“What? Yeah.” He looks at you confused. 
You nod like he proved a point by saying yes. That confuses him further, a deep line forming between his brows. 
“‘Course you do. That’s like, Dad 101 ‘carry cash in case of emergency’. 
You stand and grab your bag. “We’re not staying,” you say simply.
“What?” He frowns, sitting up straighter. 
You flash him a smile. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on. You said you trust me.”
“To choose a beer,” he grumbles, dropping enough cash for a generous tip on the table before letting you lead. He doesn’t argue as you walk back to the truck, just trying to catch up with your words. He opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing yours briefly as you climb into the truck. It’s a small thing, but the innocence makes your pulse skip all the same. 
Once he’s in the driver’s seat, the tension between you shifts. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. You glance at him, taking in the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he shifts. 
The truck rumbles to life and another one of the horniest Nickelback songs plays—barely loud enough to recognize. 
I’m loving what you wanna wear
I wonder what’s up under there 
Wonder if I’ll ever have it under my tongue 
You bite back another laugh as the vocals float through the cab, perfectly at odds with the vibe of the place you just left. Joel shifts, mouth twitching like he knows how ridiculous it is. “You wanna tell me where we’re headed?” he asks, voice cutting through your thoughts. 
You tell him where to drive and settle back in your seat. Again your thoughts drift. Infatuated with his fingers curling and uncurling like he’s trying to distract himself. He hasn’t said much since you’ve left, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. Heavy and thick. 
You catch his gaze flicker to you for the third time in as many minutes. His eyes trail over the curve of your thighs where your skirt has ridden up. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel bold. 
You smirk, pulling the visor down to check your reflection in the mirror. Fishing a lip gloss out from your bag, you swipe it over your lips, smoothing the edges with your fingertip. Joel doesn’t say anything, but you don’t miss the deep steadying breath that fills his lungs or the crack of his knuckles. 
Satisfied with your lips, you tug lightly at the t-shirt, adjusting the knot, shifting the fabric to lay how you like and slipping a hand beneath it to adjust your tits in your lacy bra. You hear Joel exhale sharply, a low, throaty sound that makes heat curl low in your stomach. 
“You okay?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Your voice is softer now, more knowing, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you grin. “You seem tense.”
Joel mutters something under his breath. His jaw tightens. Finally, he glances at you, his eyes dark. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re gonna have a problem, baby.”
“Doing what?” you ask, your voice all innocence, though his threat gives you a prickly rush. 
Joel huffs a laugh, low and rough. “You know damn well.” His voice dips, a rasp of heat that whips down your spine. “The lips and the shirt, just messin’ with me like you want me to lose my fuckin’ mind.” 
Your grin widens as you meet his gaze. “And what if I do?”
“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hand flexing against the wheel. “Trying to get me to crash into a ditch or something?” 
The tension between you is unbearable now, the air thick and buzzing. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly. You unabashedly linger on the way his hips press forward slightly like he’s trying to relieve the ache between his legs. It shouldn’t drive you fucking wild with need, but you’re gripped mind, pussy, and soul. 
“Pull over,” you say suddenly, your tone steady.
Joel’s head snaps toward you, incredulous. 
“Pull over,” you repeat, your voice softer now, more insistent. “Please.”
He hesitates for only a second before caving, steering the truck onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against the gravel as he shifts into park, the engine idling low as he turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him—wrecked and barely holding it together—makes you rabid. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” his voice is rough and quiet. Infused with lust and awe. 
“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning closer. “But you’ll enjoy it.”
Joel groans softly, his hand flying to your thigh, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. “Torturing me,” he mutters, his voice a low growl. “Sitting there lookin’ like that, knowing damn well what you’re doin’ to me.”
“Yeah?” you ask, your breath hitching as his fingers slide higher. “What am I doing to you, Joel?”
He exhales sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening. Why are his hands that big? Like, how are you supposed to know what they feel like and ever leave his grasp? 
Your heart is pounding now, the heat in your veins making it hard to think straight. Joel’s voice drops lower, his hand sliding further up your thigh as he leans closer.
“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he mutters, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “The way you’d taste, the way you’d sound, begging me to fuck you harder, deeper—”
“Joel,” you whisper, cutting him off. Your voice is shaky, your hands gripping his arm as you try to ground yourself. “Please.”
He groans again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hand moves higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your underwear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanna hear.”
It makes you shudder. You feel him smile at your body's obvious responses, as his nose grazes your skin just below your ear. 
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you all damn week. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you.”
His words hit like a match to dry kindling, and your breath stutters as his fingers trace the seam of your panties. 
“You know how hard it was to sit there at that table?” he mutters, his voice turning darker. “With you looking like this, wearing my clothes, teasin’ me.” 
“We didn’t even make it to the actual dinner part,” you giggle as you trail off. 
His fingers press more firmly, dragging slowly over the thin fabric, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Joel groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with heat. “You’re already soaked. Bet I could make you come like this, right here, without even tryin’.”
Your hips shift instinctively, grinding against his hand as he works you with deliberate precision. The friction is maddening, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to send you over. Every filthy word he says in your ear has you burning up. 
“Jesus, you’re gonna sound so fuckin’ sweet for me,” he says, more to himself. “Can’t wait to bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name until your throat’s raw.”
“Joel,” you whisper, your voice shaky, your hand flying to his wrist as his fingers dip lower, brushing just beneath the edge of your panties. “Wait.”
He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, your cheeks flushed, your body still trembling under his touch. “Not now,” you assert, your voice soft but steady. “Let me take care of you.”
Joel blinks, his pupils blown wide as your words sink in. His mouth parts to say something but the words disappear. You don’t let him argue. 
Sliding your hand down to his belt, you undo it hastily, fingers working open the button of his jeans before he can protest. It’s for him. You want to do this for him. Help him relax so you can enjoy the rest of your date. 
But, fuck, it’s also for you. You’ve been riding a high just from a shoddy dick pic and your muscle memory, but you’ve been patient long enough. You’ve got to see it in person and you need it in your mouth, asap. You deserve that much, right? 
You slide down the zipper and fuss with the waistband until you get what you wanted. His breath catches as you free his cock. It’s heavy and hard against your palm. Radiating heat and weeping for you. 
“Oh, fuck,” he starts, his voice breaking. 
You hum softly, pleased, leaning in to kiss him as your hand strokes him slowly, deliberately. Joel groans against your mouth, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. 
“You’ve been thinking about this,” you murmur against his lips. “All week.” 
“Yeah,” he rasps, voice raw with want. “Can’t stop thinking about you. How you’d feel, how you’d look, how you’d sound.” 
“Show me,” you whisper, lowering your head to taste for yourself. You like a hot stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head. 
Joel’s breath stutters, his hand flying to the back of your head as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good, baby. Like a fucking dream.” 
You hollow your cheeks, tongue gliding along his length as you take him into the heat of your mouth. You have to use your hands to work the rest of him, still slowly and deliberately. Every sound he makes, every twitch against your tongue, every flex of his core, and tightening of his fingers, it all drives you wild. 
It has you moaning with need around him. Your cunt soaked and pulsing, begging for attention between your legs as you focus all on him. It’s just as much for you as it is for him. 
His head tips back against the seat, a rumbling grown spilling from his lips as his hips shift beneath you. 
“Shit.” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make come so fuckin’ hard. Bet you’d look so pretty with my come on your tongue.” 
The sheer filth of his words spurs you on, your movements quickening as you savor every groan, curse, and sharp inhale from him. “Fuck—just like that.” He encourages you, adding firm pressure to the back of your head as his hips jerk and he loses control. 
“You want it?” he asks desperately as you moan in affirmation. You’re voice is still vibrating through him as he starts to come, hot and heavy on your tongue. You don’t stop until his body goes slack beneath you, his chest heaving as you finally pull back. 
He looks wrecked, mouth hanging open, sweat on his brow. You give him a devilish smile before opening your mouth to show him. He stares at you, eyes dark and hazy, before cupping your jaw in his palm as you swallow. 
“Told you,” he huffs, “so fucking pretty with my come on your tongue.” A bright, satisfied smile spreads on your face at his praise. He pulls you in closer for a kiss. When you pull back a frown pulls at your mouth. 
“What’s wrong?” Joel asks hurriedly. 
“I didn’t get to see,” you muse. “Will you take a picture next time?” 
“Fuck,” he looks at you with awe and pride. “Yeah, baby, of course.” 
“Good,” you nod, readjusting and settling back into your seat. “You think you can relax a little now?” you ask, tone teasing.
Joel lets out a breathless laugh. He drags his hand down his face. “You’re unreal,” he mutters, voice still hoarse. The phrase makes you beam with pride. It’s the same remark he made over the phone last week…right before he said ‘got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager’.” 
The gratification just from seeing him this wrecked is like a drug. He’s every bit as enticing and addicting as you hoped and feared. You squeeze your thighs together once more and take a deep breath. Committed to the rest of your idea for saving your first date with the divorced DILF of your dreams. 
“Back on the road. We’ve got places to be.”
Joel blinks at you, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re serious?”
“Yep,” you smile lazily, tugging gently at his arm. “Drive.”
He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about you being the death of him, but he shifts the truck into gear, his hand lingering on your thigh as he pulls back onto the road.
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THANK YOU FOR READING PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ENJOYED OR HATED ANY OF IT <3
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toxycodone · 9 months ago
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"Are they into PDA?" - Dungeon Meshi Edition
content. multiple x reader, fluff
an. yknow i havent written in like a week ESPECIALLY for my beloved dungeon meshi so. here is this. I'm kinda using this too as like practice bc i have never written for a lot of these characters but I would love to try!
Let me know if you want me to do this for another fandom <3 or if i forgot some characters
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Laios's Party
Laios - He can go 50/50. I think at the start of a relationship he’s really awkward about it (he’s not used to anyone being affectionate with him besides his sister). But as time goes on he starts to really get into it. He just loves finally feeling accepted and cared for it’s just 💕💕 yeah. He’s lovey dovey enough with you in public to make people cringe. And he doesn’t get it when people suggest he should cool it down. Laios’s PDA is never heated or anything. Just cute and romantic. He’s smitten.
Falin - Similar to Laios, but I think she’s more chill with it off the bat. Falin gets hit with that puppy love phase HARD when you first start dating so she’s all shy and her heart’s pounding but she’s only bashful because she’s just so into you!! post-chimera she becomes a lot more assertive and has less regard for others witnessing your PDA. She’s always sitting close to you, holding your hand, resting her head on your shoulder (or letting you rest your head on hers). I also think she has a habit of sneaking up on your and nipping your neck/shoulder.
Marcille - ENJOYS IT. Like…there is not denying it. Marcille loves PDA. You would think your hands are glued together or something my God when you two are walking she’s always holding yours and swinging your arms while humming a little tune AHHHH…of course her cheeks will be stained red though. You ask for a kiss in public and she’s squeaks out an “…okay.” (Then has to hype herself up and is timidly puckering her lips w her eyes squeezed shut comically tight). Anyways. Yeah. She’s a little obsessed with you okay.
Chilchuck - He’s more lowkey and chill about PDA. He admires other couples when he witnesses it “aaah, young love.” But I think Chilchuck is a bit too mature to just. Make out with you in public (now if he’s had a few beers. That’s different. Drunk Chilchuck is a different breed okay.) Chil will give you a goodbye kiss or hold your hand for a second and give you a gentle squeeze, but that’s about it when it comes to public affection. I think he shows his affection fr tho by buying you accessories to wear (scarves, rings, pouches, etc.).
Senshi - He’s not super affectionate in public in general but he doesn’t mind it. Like oh? You wanna give him a little kiss? Sure. That’s fine. But then when he realizes others witnessed it then Senshi gets bashful. Thank god he has that thick ass beard bc I know he’s blushing way too hard. He blushes really hard at any PDA between you two. It’s honestly super cute. :3
Izutsumi - No. Hard pass. Do not. It just makes her incredibly uncomfortable (honestly the idea of affection in general makes her feel weird bc Izu thinks she’s undeserving, but she likes you enough to try to love herself. For you.) I think Izu substitutes PDA with handmade things…like. One day after a little thinking and comparing you guys to other couples she’s a little nervous about you thinking she doesn’t like you/isn’t a good partner. So…you guys have matching necklaces she made instead. It’s just a pretty rock and some feathers tied clumsily in twine but! She’s trying! It’s a step in showing that Izu wants something to link you guys together to others.
Toshiro - (idc that he isn’t in the party anymore he just fits best here ok) Hear me the fuck out. Toshiro Nakamoto likes PDA. BEFORE YOU STOP READING HEAR ME OUT. I think it’s a huge deal w his characterization that Toshiro is really repressed and is learning to voice his needs/concerns/opinions/etc. and I think this also applies to like. Getting in touch with his desires. Toshiro desires to be loved and cared for and well. He enjoys actions of affection from you. They make him happy. And when he finds himself getting embarrassed about it…he thinks on it. Like why should he feel the need to not showcase this? Anyways, yes he enjoys it. But keep it classy 💕 He prefers to save anything more for when you two are alone.
Kabru's Party
Kabru - 50/50 like Laios. But Kabru’s initial dislike for PDA stems from his own insecurities. Like…Kabru is just still processing that he is capable of love and doesn’t have to basically set his own desires and needs to the side and sacrifice for others. After he jumps over that jump it’s smooth sailing though. (Kinda. Every now and then he gets hit w an insecurity episode). Kabru’s like a fantasy prince. He gives chaste kisses to your lips and forehead, kisses your knuckles…yeah. It’s cheesy, but from him it works.!
Holm - Average PDA enjoyer. Keeps it cool and classy in public. He doesn’t initiate a lot besides a gentle kiss to your forehead or patting your shoulder every now and then. He has no qualms with it, Holm’s just a really mature dude (plus with his religion I kinda think he values being respectful). But like. As soon as eyes are off you guys Holm is WAY more touchy and lovey. When mickbell and kuroo stay at his place he’s always a little miffed mainly because his privacy with you is SACRED to this man.
Mickbell - Says he likes PDA. Cannot handle being kissed without practically exploding. He’s so cringe (I love him). Mickbell the embodiment of that “first kiss” vs. “expecting a kiss with tongue” meme. But he’s the first kiss part. He likes to pretend he has any sort of experience (he does not) and any attempt at PDA leave him glowing red but in his mind he’s like heh…I was so cool. (He wasn’t)
Rin - NO. It’s a mix of bashfulness and her fear of doing something crazy via magic because of crazy emotions. But I think she desperately does crave affection. Being able to be treated like a normal girl and love and be loved with no issue. Yeah. You can probably sneak up on her and give her a smooch or something and she’ll be too stunned to react (thank goodness bc the explosion spell building up fizzles out before it can be fully cast)
Golden Kingdom
Thistle - Little pain in the ass he acts like he hates it but in reality he loves displays of affection. Like Thistle gets all red in the face and waves you off but then he’s blushing and kicking his feet like a schoolgirl when you’re out of sight. In my mind Thistle doesn’t do a lot of PDA (if any) but he’s most definitely writing about you in his poem books 💀 there’s likely books dedicated to you…and yes he’d die if you found out.
Yaad - In the most princely sense, yes. Yaad is very sweet. Polite. Demure. He kisses your hand as a greeting and may kiss your cheek if he’s feeling really crazy (omg). But he treats you like the most respectable being on earth. Absolutely adores you. PDA makes him blush and Yaad will have a cute little smile for a while afterwards and be in a good mood (Laios asks you to be affectionate w him particularly when he knows he royally messed up)
Canaries
Pattadol - DO NOT. Like maybe a cheek kiss is fine but Patty is working VERY hard to look like a formidable leader and when you distract her! She can’t! Plus the prisoners immediately start making fun of her! You guys gotta keep it cool around them. She still loves you though.
Lycion - This is weird but Lycion seems like the type of guy who can do sexual stuff in public with no issue but PDA? It makes him choke a bit. Only because he struggles SO much with self image + self worth so you doing an action just to show affection for him that doesn’t give you anything in return makes his heart skip a beat. Like damn? You really love him? That’s crazy. Anyways. It’s cute as fuck.
Fleki - I honestly don’t know what to say other than you could eat her out in front of a crowd and she wouldn’t flinch. She’s soooo touchy and all over you it probably makes people uncomfortable but she doesn’t give a fuck. She clings to you like a Koala with no issue (like she did to otta in that comic YEAH)
Otta - Yes but she’s going to be pretend chaste about it. Like Otta acts all down to earth in public but I can’t decide if it’s because she wants to tease you or pretend like she has any sense of self control. Once you’re desperate enough yeah you two will be making out in public’s
Cithis - Idk if this is against the grain but I think she’s a bit reserved about PDA. Not because of any bashfulness or whatever (she could give less of a fuck) but with her hinted past experiences with people not regarding her personal space and being weird to her. In my mind just. Cithis has some personal boundaries about being touched and stuff she doesn’t want to be crossed. That’s not stopping her from getting you off under the table with her foot though. (Insane.)
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writingbluerose · 7 months ago
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𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔 — idia shroud x reader
summary : idia has been keeping a secret from you, and also he has been working on something special just for you. As a thank you for everything he's done. Have patience with him, he's just nervous
warnings : none <3
a / n : Idia is literally the loml so I wanted to make this short story. ALSO HELLO IDIA FANS??? Idk if that AppleBloom card implies he's playing violin or not, he's playing it in this story idc
HAPPY BIRTHDAY IDIA HONEY ILY 💙💙
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He's been at this for months. Trying and trying and modifying everything that didn't seem right to him. He practiced for hours in a day, days in that he didn't even touch his gaming console, much to his brother's surprise and of course he's also very proud of his big bro. Idia wanted to make something special for you, something that would let you know how much he loves you without speaking too much, after all he wasn't that amazing with words, even tho you understood him and accepted him the way he is.
So, for you, Idia started doing something he's never done in years. Playing the violin. He remembers when he was little and found a super old violin in the S.T.Y.X headquarters at home, he started playing it and found out he actually has a nick for it! But, well, Idia is Idia so he quickly forgot about it. But when hanging out in his room one day, you mentioned that you really liked the sound of violins, also mentioning that on winter holidays you loved listening to a certain song played by one. Idia never forgot that, of course he didn't, after all that's what he's doing right now, practicing just for you.
And just like that 4 solid months passed with Idia practicing and perfecting his song. And that meant that it was finalized and it was the moment to show you. Calling his little brother Ortho to go fetch you, Idia was nervously pacing around his room, his violin not revealed yet as he wanted it to be a surprise. Minutes passed and his brother finally entered his room, beaming with anticipation with you smiling behind him. Idia could tell you were excited for whatever surprise he had for you. After Ortho left, you sat on his bed and looked at him.
“Sooo, Ortho told me you have a surprise for me right?? What is it?? I'm excited!”
“Well, u-uhm...uhh”
Idia's hair slowly started becoming pink as well as his face, slowly fidgeting with his fingers thinking on how to start. You smiled softly at him. “Take your time Idia, no rush” He hesitantly looked at you again, then took a deep breath and started talking all at once.
“I-IrememberthattimeyoutoldmeyoulikeviolinssoImadethisforyoubecauseIliterallyloveyousomuchandIwantedtothankyouforeverythingyou'vedoneformebecause I love you so much”
The last 5 words came out slower, while Idia finally took the violin behind him showing you what the surprise really was. With a stunned look and pink cheeks you looked at Idia in awe. “Idia... You- you didn't...” Idia learned violin for you? Oh goodness, that thought only made your heart beat faster and faster, you loved him so much.
“I- I did yeah...so uhm, — Idia coughed taking his violin and getting into position — this... is for you”
And so he started singing. And God, it was beautiful. You knew Idia well, that means you easily knew that he was the one who wrote the song that was now slowly coming along on the beautiful thin strings of his polished violin. You slowly got lost in the song, your cheeks getting a pink tint while listening to Idia's gift for you. Because I wanted to thank you, that's why he did this, he wanted to thank you and that thought alone made a warm feeling in your chest. You looked up at him, Idia's eyes were closed and you were sure he wasn't aware his tongue was slightly out of his mouth indicating he was concentrating. The sight made you silently giggle, Idia's silly faces was one of the things you loved about him most.
After a while, Idia's singing came to a stop, the hand that was holding his bow came down to rest beside his body, his other one still holding the violin. He looked at you with his cheeks pink and you didn't fail to see the tips of his hair getting pinker and pinker, some of them burning into little hearts. “How-how was that...?” Awaiting your answer, Idia shifted his weight from one leg to another looking at you expectantly. Before he could register what you were doing, you jumped on your feet and hugged him tightly.
“I loved it Idia. It was beautiful” At your words, Idia let out a relief sigh then grinned at you.
“Weehee, I unlocked the right route”
You smiled at him in response. “I really didn't expect you to do all this for me, really. I mean learning violin that fast? That's something not all people can do”
“Ah, well, it's not like I didn't know how to play it — he carefully set the violin down next to his bed — I played a bit when I was little but I kinda gave up after a while”
You understood quickly that Idia probably found the magic of video games so that must've been the reason he stopped playing.
“Well, I must give you something in return,no?”
You approached him putting your hand on his cheek, pulling him by his hoodie and kissing him on the lips. He was quick to return the kiss, he got better at this since you started dating him after all. After he let go, Idia's hands were still holding tightly onto your waist, his face pink while grinning at you.
“Hehe, this was definitely an S rank kiss”
“An S rank kiss for an S rank boyfriend”
Idia's face turned fully red at your comment and so did his hair, he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “No fair! These comments do critical damage — he looked up at you — you can't use them so casually!!”
You knew Idia would give up the world to be with you forever, he loved you so much and he always made sure to tell you in his special ways. And now, while being in his bed, hugging his sleeping form, you thought that no matter what, you'd always do the same for him.
No matter the outcome.
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© writingbluerose 2024
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symptomsofdeceit · 1 year ago
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What’s it like to make out with Nalis? Just imagine randomly during a chat at work the player is like “I want to make out with you, can I?” and is not joking, and if he agrees immediately starts kissing him. 😀
This isn’t explicit but it’s a bit suggestive so it’s under a cut to be safe! Also warning this is a very long answer 😅 it’s almost like 3 mini fanfics
It depends!
🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋
• If you have NOT gotten ending 3, so Nalis has never thought about kissing before:
When you first ask he’d agree, almost out of habit because he always likes trying new things with you. He wouldn’t have had time to genuinely think about it yet though. When you kiss him he’d blush a lot and make a pathetic uncharacteristic sound between a whine/moan/gasp. He would then suddenly excuse himself because he “forgot something he needs to do”.
He’d find somewhere private ASAP - still blushing and feeling very out of control of his emotions. If your kiss was more intimate / your body was pressed against him, he’d also be extremely hard and end up with a nose bleed (idc if it’s unrealistic, it’s fun and I’m cursing him with nose bleeds when aroused. I need to add that to his current kissing scene too).
You wouldn’t see him for the rest of the day, he’d text some excuse about work being busy. If you’re the type to overthink he’d also send a “btw thanks for always being a good friend!” message in an attempt to make sure you don’t think he’s mad at you 💀
🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋
• If you have gotten ending 3:
Nalis would start blushing when you ask this. Up until now you’ve only really seen him blush when he admits you’re a good friend/important to him, and that’s always felt very innocent and genuine. If you’re perceptive you might be able to tell that it feels a little different here.
Nalis would probably reply with something teasing like “Oh~? You want to kiss me? Have you… thought about kissing me before?” while trying to at least partially hide the excitement in his voice. He’d feel really conflicted between really wanting to kiss you again (especially now that you want to and know it’s him), but also feeling anxious because of how he can’t control these emotions.
If it’s too soon after ending 3, Nalis would probably end up pretending to get a work call and using an excuse to push this off until later. He’s just not sure about how to handle having feelings + desires that are above his control yet.
🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋🍋
I’m including this as a fun little bonus:
• If, for some insane reason, after ending 3 you have another encounter with “Thaumo shapeshifted to look like Nalis” and asks to kiss him:
Nalis would start laughing in a pretty unhinged way. He’d sound like a weird mix between mocking and sweet and ask “Really, girlie/buddy? You want to kiss me again?” He’d quickly walk closer to you and pin you against the closest wall.
He’d be very insistent on asking why, trying to figure out if you want to kiss him because you think he’s Thaumo, or if it’s because he looks like Nalis.
Either way, after asking that he’d kiss you. It would be more possessive and aggressive while he’s struggling with all his emotions. He’d also break the kiss to ask if you wished he was “the real Nalis”. By the end of it he’d be very turned on and his nose would be bleeding, and he’d be feeling very unstable depending on your answers.
(Nalis is willing to do more when you think he’s Thaumo because then there’s no risk of you losing trust in Nalis)
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itsalittlebitchilly · 5 months ago
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Post TGR clarity bingo
Here's my bingo results :)
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go girl, give us nothing.
anyways I wanted to talk about some of my reasonings
reveal that Jean and/or Jeremy can play the piano
okay this has definitely been influenced by more than one post that Jeremy (rich boy) had to learn the piano, but I've thought it's almost equally likely that Jean had to learn piano. Not because he was like a prodigy or anything, his parents just made him do stuff.
2. jean buys a book in French from a secondhand shop
okay before reading this was kind of out of nowhere, but after I REALLY hope he gets a French book. We know reading English is hard for him, so I doubt he remembers the last time he read for fun (if he ever did)
3. a rando goes on about how bad the ravens are in front of Jean
gave this one a yellow because it didn't happen anything like I'd imagined it. I just wanted some random student (who barely follows sports) to insist that they aren't a good team (AN: they're not)
4. cancer scare
tbh idk why I put this one. Very early on Jeremy's mom is "in surgery" and i was like "omg i hope its incurable and she dies" 200 pages later i realized "oh she is a doctor. she was in surgery. because she is a doctor. performing surgery"
5. Ichirou assassination/attempt
I still want this to happen but I think it's way more likely to happen in book 3 now especially with Browning's appearance.
6. Jean gets a postcard from Kevin and Jeremy is Jealous
I don't remember Jeremy being particularly jealous, but a postcard was received.
7. Jean wakes up from a nightmare
ok this didn't happen at all. probably a good thing I hope Jean only had peaceful nights
8. Jean plans/gets a tattoo (NOT a coverup)
i still want him to but idk how this would come up if it hasn't already
9. a flip phone gets broken in half
tbh should have done yellow for this. In a coffee cup is as good as broken in half, right?
10. someone on the team tears their acl
ok well good thing this didn't happen.
11. FBI have to talk to Jeremy (unrelated to the Moriyamas)
well technically they talked. Not directly about the Moriyamas. so yellow.
12. Jean throws something into the ocean
I have reason to believe that the ocean is actually further from campus than I have previously thought. my bad
13. Bee in person appearance
I was SO CONVINCED of this one. I would have put money on Bee being the one to go with Kevin. Every post about who was coming with Kevin I was in the notes saying Bee. Genuinely jaw dropping moment when Andrew showed up.
14. USC player dresses up as Kevin
ok well we didn't get to Halloween but if we did I still think this could happen
15. a raven/former raven goes to Jean for help
this is less something that I thought would happen and more something that I hoped would happen. Like a second or third year raven (who never knew Kevin) shows up at USC looking for Jean like "um how are you happy. how do you get up every morning." still want this to happen in book three. may be more likely now that the ravens are falling apart frfr
16. flossing triggers a breakdown
okay let me explain. I obviously knew someone was going to have a breakdown or two. but for the bingo I didn't want it to be obvious things. And the amount of times that I have been having a rough day and gotten to the end of it and thought about flossing for 0.5 seconds and started crying is not zero. or one.
17. Ichirou in person appearance.
I only wanted him to show up if it was to get shot and killed. sorry I hate that guy
18. Jean judges the quality of an Americanized French food
idc about this anymore we need to get that boy in ED treatment STAT
19. Jeremy makes a food Jean mentioned eating growing up
tbh it was foolish of me to think Jean would have any happy childhood memories, so this ones on me. Also we need to get that boy in ED treatment STAT
20. ABBA mention
you cannot convince me that the Trojans don't listen to ABBA
21. JereJean pull an all nighter so one of them can study for an exam
okay I forgot how much of these books are not about college
22. Jeremy walks from his house to Laila's in the middle of the night
what was I thinking. there is so much distance and Jeremy is too smart for this (unless... something truly terrible happened to him....)
23. Jeremy calls Jean after a family incident and Jean picks him up on his bike
this could still happen and I am definitely putting it on my bingo card for book 3
24. someone takes up knitting
I'm going to be honest. I was running out of ideas. also I just got into knitting
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murdocs-sweetheart · 3 months ago
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I always post this pic of him but idc bc he’s so cuteful in this one fr!! Also bc this is directly from the scene that Emily sent me an ask about (a couple of posts down from this one) and that I rewatched and it made me 1 William times more insane about him all over again <3
His MANNERISMS in the show- I forgot how badly he truly affects me- got me giggling and kicking my feet while on my stomach in bed (<- not exaggerating, this is exactly what happened earlier when I rewatched it)
He would get such an ego trip off of the fact that I get a little lightheaded just thinking about him… like he does his best to treat me so niceys and be good for me (<- not easy for him bc he is, at heart, a selfish cruel creature) and he does, bc he does want to- like, he loves me, for all his faults, he does love me.
But he also really enjoys toying with people, and unfortunately I am far too entertaining for my own good!
He’s so much more gentle with me, though. Where he usually gets unparalleled satisfaction out of hurting people physically and mentally with the terrifying things he says and the way he can get into your head-
with me, he has that same urge to fuck with my head but it’s different somehow… he’s much more intent on making me nervous as a result of how much I like him, as opposed to outright scaring me like he enjoys doing to most people.
Oh don’t get me wrong, he wants me to be nervous around him. He gets more than a bit of a sick thrill out of it.
The thing is, this desire to see me jumpy and nervous around him stems from the belief that I would never actually feel safe with him bc how could I? Sure, I don’t know what he does, what he is. He’s kept that a secret just fine.
But people know- they have a sense, a way of sniffing out danger, something almost instinctual and Murdoc sets off all those alarm bells for most people. Frankly, he’d be worried for me if he didn’t set off those alarm bells in me.
He is convinced that he can never have me in the capacity he really wants, so he settles for the second best option. If he can’t have my complete trust, then he’ll take my fear. Teasing me, sneaking up on me, little things. Nothing truly terrifying bc he’s not sure he could stand to see me truly terrified of him. But that unease, that jumpiness, is just delicious.
But at the end of the day, he’d much rather have me curl up against him feeling completely safe, because where safer can one be than in the protection of an apex predator?
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alexxncl · 8 months ago
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‼️NIGHTBRINGER LESSON 55 SPOILERS‼️
masterlist | all lessons | season 3 | lesson 54 | lesson 55.2 | lesson 56.1 | lesson 56.2
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not they ended last lesson on the cliffhanger and barely addressed it in this one 🧍🏾
honestly that's on par for someone as closed off as raphael but FUCK i wanted some insight on how he's actually feeling. what's up with angels and not letting themselves show weakness ???
also the fact that this part of the lesson is called "back to the sorcerer's society" ??? mc's had too many death scares i can't keep doing this
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gotta get all the mammon crumbs i can now that i know that the stupid date feature is 30 FUCKING DOLLARS 😐 i'm semi p2p but this shit is getting more and more ridiculous as the days drag on. like i'll just use character and and fanfiction atp
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it's the way that i forgot the fact that mc's existence can literally tear apart reality at the seams. like that whole thing that happened in season 3 (4?) of og when simeon had to steal lucifer's ring and ended up becoming human bc of it
i feel like his punishment would've been way more lethal if the stakes weren't so dire. mc having lucifer's ring was the only sure fire way to ensure stability within and between the human, celestial, and demon realms without having any of them implode
this also explains why magic sickness is so concerning for mc specifically. to quote marvel, kayden is probably this universe's anchor being. if they go down, so does everything else in the timeline
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me and sol got beef now bc what /lh
like yes he did what had to be done but did he HAVE to do what had to be done ????
also the fact that mc broke the measuring device after solomon had to fix it with reinforcements bc he himself broke the device before is so ??? like how fucking strong is mc ??????
this brings even more of a concern to the fact that a war breaking out between any of the realms would literally be life and death. if any of the brothers or their friends family get hurt, mc would cause irreparable damage to whoever or whatever is closest to them, whether the target caused the problem or not. like that's terrifying
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this is why i love satan
he's almost more no-bullshit than lucifer is, which makes sense all things considered. in his eyes they still don't know anything about mc's power. all this is to satan is an educated guess, and when it inevitably gets disproved, then what? what if they do end up hurting someone
i doubt that'll happen since there's so little time left in this season but idk. it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility
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i'm very glad that they used the very obvious answer as to why mc's powers are going haywire, bc the whole "it's just bc they're so loving and kind" thing just seemed like a cop out to me. like where are the stakes. what about the first 40 lessons of the game
ANYWAYS i'm very interested to see how this'll play out. part of me thinks diavolo and lucifer already know bc 1) they're not stupid and 2) dia is in close enough proximity to the time demon himself to know when something happened to the time stream (or as barbie himself called it, "time soup")
like look at the way barbatos reacted and the way diavolo immediately changed the subject. they both know something's going on, but whether or not diavolo knows the specifics is up in the air
satan is also the funniest mf on the planet idc argue with the wall. he really is the product of all his brothers bc this SCREAMS mammon and levi
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:((( poor raph
i honestly can't even imagine what it feels like. the only angels he probably has left that he's actually close to are michael and maybe luke. even then, he probaboy sees luke as someone he can't confide in and feels like he's losing his brother(s) all over again
at least with simeon in purgatory hall, he can delude himself into thinking that simeon's still an angel. but if he's not there anymore, it's all but set in stone that he's lost what little connection he had left to simeon and, in a way, the other brothers, bc luke wasn't around or old enough to remember pre-war times
on a brighter note...michael lore. kinda. and mephisto being a kisser of multiple asses (mephisto fans i'm sorry he's so fun to dog on)
i wish he could get his head outta his ass though. like actually. just pay your boyfriend a visit ffs, he'd be beyond happy to see you
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of COURSE he's not in his room and of COURSE this is how the lesson ends
watch lesson 60 end with a michael-related cliffhanger. like watch them tease his design reveal and then just cut the shit off right before he's shown
but i need the michael design asap i'm so serious. solmare count your days
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confession-of-the-heart · 28 days ago
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idc about heart hotel ship discourse cause I really think it’s entirely dependent on personal interpretations, but funnily enough, out of all heart hotel ships, RokuShi is the one that leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth. I think it’s because every RokuShi I’ve seen completely ignores their canon dynamic.
They end up dumbing them down into essentially what Sora and Kairi have in canon (they both generally like each other and no nuance beyond that), completely overriding their actual character traits for the sake of “Xion’s sad so we should give her a boyfriend :).” Roxas’s main flaw in Days is that he fails to see things from other peoples’ perspectives, and that ends up driving a huge wedge between him and Xion since she has a very unique perspective due to her circumstances. It’s implied he works on this problem in regards to Axel and Sora, but we don’t get enough screen time with Xion in 3 to know if the same is true for her. I would assume that’s the first thing you’d want to explore between these characters, but once again, everything I see is just fluff or “Xion died guys that’s so sad :(.”
It plays into the way the fan base dumbs down Xion too, making her into a stock “girl who’s nice” character with her defining trait being that she died. Xion’s story in Days works so well because you can see her develop the mindset that makes her so willing to sacrifice herself. Of course the girl who lives in a cult that tells her that she and all of her friends are worthless and incomplete, with no right to live, wouldn’t value her life. Of course the girl that gets berated by Saix calling her an “it,” “thing,” “that,” “mistake,” something that “never should’ve been made,” wouldn’t see herself as equal, especially when she found out she is technically a “thing.” And yet not a lot of fan work really gets into why she chose to die. Hell, even 3 forgot about it, they just decided she would be alive again and be totally fine with it (which to be fair is a critique I have for all the recompletion plots, Axel also went out on his own accord and also reacts minimally upon waking up). This factors back into RokuShi because the most I see them ever make of it is “she’s fine now because Roxas likes her :)” which A) is a really underwhelming solution and B) obviously doesn’t work because they were still friends up to the point where she died.
the shippers themselves are nice and I don’t have anything against them, but man, what is it with this fan base and refusing to acknowledge any canon traits of the characters they claim “love.”
~~~
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klauw22 · 1 year ago
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Venture, Widowmaker, Lifeweaver, Moira for headcanons :3
YEAHHHH!!!
These are pretty general, about any topic, some might be gender-centered. AUs are not included in this one.
Theres probably more but these are the ones i can think of right now.
VENTURE
Definitely has ADHD
Dont give them any caffeine or they will yap your ear off, then crash five minutes later.
Doesnt drink. Prefers non-alcoholic alternatives or straight up juice lol
Loves spicy food!
Hasnt had top surgery and doesnt plan on it either. In my eyes Venture is very comfortable with their body. They might wear a binder if they feel like it, if their outfit calls for it or if its just a binder type of day.
Venture isnt very skilled with makeup but they do like to wear eyeliner sometimes that they later dont remove properly out of laziness or because they forgot to, so it ends up being smudged and smokey the next day
Their hair is thick. VERY thick, i can see them having an undercut and still have it look like they got a full head of hair.
WIDOW
Even though i like to think of Widow as a high femme queen i feel like she doesnt that much makeup. Maybe lip gloss and some mascara on occasion?
I feel like she is lowkey goth, just without the makeup.
NIRAN
100% has ADHD. Its canon to me idc idc
Shops both at the mens and womens section and has great fashion sense, probably bonded over it with Satya.
Great cook!! Amazing actually!! But leaves the kitchen looking a mess every time...
I feel like he is a sneaky tease, not in a malicious sense, he just likes toying with people a bit for his own entertainment.
He cheats at board games, or any type of game. Anywhere theres any sense of competition he will cheat in non harmful ways. Not because he wants to win but because he finds it funny to be a little bastard lol
MOIRA
I feel like she doesnt smoke but she does drink, a lot. Whenever shes stressed or whenever work becomes a bit overwhelming, which can be often. She will quickly turn to booze but also has a high alcohol tolerance.
Genderwise, Moira can be anything to me and it depends on my mood how i like to headcanon her but she strikes me as a genderfluid/nonbinary lesbian. But i can also see her being pansexual with an attraction towards feminine people!
Listens to alt music, scene, techno, loud stuff most people would find "obnoxious".
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e-pluribus-unumn · 8 months ago
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Intro Post - Rover / Weatherstrip
⭐️ This is my CH side blog. I reblog stuff or post art / writing on occasion. Call me whatever, but people call me Rover, Weatherstrip, WHO, Polar or Tori, etc. Chose whatever idc. Ask to be mutuals, but just following me on my main and asking is fine. I can’t follow you back on this blog yk Main is @polarized-here I'm 17, Autistic, Pansexual, and Genderfluid. I use all prns (He/She/They/it/xir) etc etc. if I make a mistake or use ur prns wrong just lmk and I’ll fix it Thxs 👍
⭐️ This is a countryhumans/country-personification sideblog I've made after getting sucked back into this fandom 😔😔😔 I have a really bad CH USA hyperfixation & one on Astronautical Engineering too so 💀. I've been in the trenches of this fandom in the early days of 2018-2020. Just block me if you don’t like this. I promise nothing bad will happen for you using the resources given to you <3
⭐️ I may talk about my distaste of this fandom and its choices, but that doesn’t mean I want to hear you saying shit about particular people <3 Thxs <3
Tags and stuffs are under the cut <3
Tags I use: Just a note, I'm not organized at all, and may forget to tag something because I posted it to the wrong blog, sorry, it will happen again </3 which, I should mention. Even if my user has changed I’m still using the og tagging system because I’m lazy :3 </3 maybe one day I’ll edit it, but yeah. 👍
#chgc's art - my art tag
#chgc posting: going insane a day later - Tag for when I reblog my art a day later, just so it doesn't get buried like, from all the reblogs
#chgc speaks - speaking tag,
#chgc's rambles - also paired with my speaking / nonsense tag, but I plan to use it to talk about HCs I might have
#Not ch - gen tag for noncountryhumans / country personification dings,,,,
#silly stuff :3 - cute or enjoyable things I like, usually paired with "not ch"
#Serious stuff - gen tag for more serious things. Can be things that aren't "sad or triggering" just information that's important / serious.
#sillies between mooties :3 - tag for general interactions between me and my mutuals. usually paired w/ "silly stuffs :3"
#chgc's pinned posts - as the name suggests, stuff for when it is/used to be pinned for whatever.
#chgc’s queued up - for the rare time I feel the need to queue shit up. I usually don't do it.
#USA coded - for stupid (usually non ch / country personification things) videos / other posts that make me think of the blorbo. All usually are just jokes or are for funsies.
⭐️ If you’re reading this, you’re cool ig. Here’s the link to the playlist I made for Countryhumans America. 🙏
⭐️ Okay. That’s all. Idk. Rue the day I’m ever brief on something, Thxs. Bye.
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⭐️ Oh Yeagh and forgot to say but my sona is a bee
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Just a sillay guy. A little older sketch but ehh mostly the same now
Edit: made this shit sm shorter im proud of me. Yaya.
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mbirnsings-71 · 9 months ago
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MADIIII MADI IM FINALLY ANSWERING UR ASK SO IM HERE 2 ASK THE SAME QUESTIONN!!
i want hcs
any of them HAND EM OVER
idc any characters just lemme hear ur thoughts :3 purhaps perchance
OH HEWWO HI HEWWO I FORGOT I ASKED YOU FOR HEADCANNONS NJVDFNVBF- woo boy okay shit SHIT- I don't have a character I've really been attached to at the moment SO I GUESS WE'RE GONNA GO WITH BRUCE HEADCANNONS??? MAYBE?? He's the only one I have at least something for atm-
headcannons under the keep reading because yeehaw
Bruce Wayne Headcannons:
had the BIGGEST Dinosaur hyperfixation as a kid. This is said because I have read two (2) things in the past three days where Bruce mentioning relatives took him to the museum to see dinosaurs LIKE COME ON. He probably knows all about Dinosaurs and it's like a sleeper agent waiting to be activated in him, he probably saw Booster somehow bring back the Jurassic league and had to keep his face neutral as batman while his brain was clocking what each and every dinosaur was. This is where he finally finds some common ground with Damian as well in the early days probably, tentatively trying to form a bond with his biological son and the only way of knowing how is finding something that the kid is interested in and bring up something related to it. That's how Bruce ended up rambling about prehistoric ancestors of common animals for a solid hour in the bat cave.
Transfem Bruce absolutely wears pearls like her mother. Is it to honor and to mourn her or is it to keep up the act of a young socialite? It's probably both. It's probably both a comfort and a heavy weight against her neck, because in some sense her mom is here with her, but in another sense the pearls just seem to weight her down, and one wrong move and all the pearls could go tumbling onto the floor from a broken and improperly knotted cord and she would unintentionally have a recreation of that night in the alley way except this time it's on the marble tiled floor and the blood is only in her memories...
Bruce in general however I think wears his dad's cufflinks or watches pretty regularly while in socialite society. He needs to keep a piece of his parents with him he needs to. Their wedding rings are still in his room, untouched because he doesn't think he's ever going to find someone that he'd love enough that would marry him but accept the job he has to do. He was so close with Selina and Talia but those both crumbled in unforseen ways and it hurt badly, so for now the old wedding rings just stay in his room, not getting used but always staying with it's other half.
I think if Cass were to ever wear pearls she'd look so much like Martha Wayne that Bruce would cry a little. I think Bruce finds qualities in all his kids that I think he would relate to his parents even though they're not biologically related. it's small things really, like interests and certain mannerisms that shouldn't remind him of them but they do. I think each Batkid also gets a Wayne heirloom as well, I just don't know what it would be but the kids are debating it out and Bruce is just sighing and putting down what he plans on leaving for the kids.
Also on the topic of Wills, he does have video messages for the kids if he ends up dying. It's canon, but I think he personalizes them more and records them late at night when the kids are asleep or each one was recorded while he was stuck in the cave on "bed rest". He also recorded one for Alfred in the possibility that he died before the butler did... He misses Alfred a lot...
Which Martha/Thomas/Alfred polycule is canon in my heart goddamn it. All three of them were Bruce's parent and Bruce would absolutely agree about it.
Speaking of Polycules, my opinions on Bruce's sexuality depends on what would better fit a story. like yeah no that man can be Bi, he can be on the aroace spectrum, he can even be poly. I personally like to keep him on the aroace spectrum so he has all three As (Aro, Ace, and Autistic!)
Speaking of Autism!! He is so autsitic and those that don't believe so... Like are we reading the same source material?? That man has such a strict moral code, refuses to put on a Kevlar vest unless it's light and flexible, has struggles communicating and struggles with tone so that most times his words can be read as very monotone, literally has a very blunt way of saying stuff just!! Also I will point at Damian and say that Autism is hereditary and out of Bruce and Talia which one would you expect to have Autism hm? cause Damian is definitely not a neurotypical child!
also yes he had a fear of bats as a child, but I believe after the getting shot and having a bat land in his father's study that Bruce absolutely went into a major rabbit hole to find out everything there could be to know about bats. He researched what bats eat, how they communicate, Natural habitats, all of it. It even got to the point where he learned how to get the bats that reside in the bat cave to trust him and actually come and land on him because he'll offer them food. He has names for all of them and everything and the batkids lose their minds about it every time. Damian wants Bruce to teach him how to do this because this is Damian, the kid who loves animals to death.
Bruce is Jewish, not a headcannon just something I feel like people need to remember is all.
Bruce hasn't watched the mask of Zorro ever since his parents died. It brings up too many traumatic memories for him and he just doesn't know if he could watch the film again. That being said Dick or Jason (one of the two) when they were younger probably wanted to watch it one time and Bruce was just silent before Alfred suggested that mayhaps they choose something else to watch because it is a pg-13 film (Which is such a lame excuse to whichever twelve year old we're putting in this scenario but sure they guess they'll let it slide- Especially when B agrees to watching a horror movie that is so not appropriate for 12 year olds cause he was a little too stunned to think clearly. Trauma and all that whatever and Bruce is just so desensitized to horror movies now from his time of being batman.)
And I think that should be enough headcannons probably <3 THANK YOU FOR THE ASK JAY <3
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