wish me luck, maggots, I'm going to preach good omens to irl humans.
Tomorrow I have, well, some kind of college thing... an explore the college event? Dunno what it is, exactly. A morning spent at the college where they'll discuss the courses and I'll need to interact with other students.
Also, parents are supposed to come, but mine are going to be away with work. And my brother said I needed to dye my hair black before going (with the Crowley red faded, it's now a bright ginger, kind of Bildad-coloured). He did not say this with kindness.
I'm not going to do any such thing, because fuck it. If the college can't accommodate me (not about the hair, but about my being queer and my mental health) then I'd rather know sooner, not later be caught off guard like I was the previous college.
SO MY GRAND PLAN FOR DEALING WITH IRL HUMANS TOMORROW:
I take the Good Omens book with me.
I dress as gay as I know how to. If I have to wear my bi flag as a scarf, so be it.
It won't come to that, don't worry. I tend to look gay as a default.
I carry the Good Omens book in my hands at all times.
I wait till someone asks me about it, as people tend to do at such events.
I SPREAD THE GOOD OMENS AGENDA TO THEM.
I move on to my next victim. During this process, Good Omens being the story that it is, I will make many queerphobic people very, very uncomfortable.
Good. I will tell many people I like their shoelaces. Let's see how that one goes.
Now at this point I will have made conversation with several people, but worst comes to worst, I can always just find some English students. Apparently they all, as a collective species, adore Neil Gaiman. Excellent.
If even that plan of interaction fails, and all is doomed, I will sit on a chair, look gay and mysterious, and open Tumblr and talk to you maggots instead.
A flawless plan, methinks.
Am I terrified? Absolutely, yes, and I am traumatised by my previous experiences at college.
However, I have decided to put things into perspective, and go forth not as me, Asmi, but as the Good Omens Mascot, and preach Good Omens to everyone, and then get the fuck out of there. This is a lot more manageable.
...anyway, so, yes. Wish me luck. Wahoo?
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can you do dbf!joel x reader with 6?
oh BOY can i...
“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
(gif by @pedrorascal)
warnings: dbf!joel, random date x reader, nothing graphic but sex on the first date, break-in, brief mention of animal death ig, caught in the act.
wordcount: 1k
a/n: i know it's just a quick lil drabble, and i used to write a lot if fanfics, but i never actually posted any of them, so this feels like a bigger deal than it is, help ♡ ps: not edited and barely skimmed through after writing!
part 2 + part 3 + part 4
"so... this is me," you gesture to the house you share with your dad, averting you date's eyes. it's been a great night, and you'd love to invite him in, but you can hear music from your dad's records playing, and the low rumbling of his friends' voices. you saw them before you left for your date, all of them complimenting your hair or your dress or your legs. except for Mr. Miller, your next door neighbor, who rarely says anything at all. he looked at you all the same, though.
"cute house," your date replies. you chuckle nervously. "it's my dad's. i'm staying with him for a while to save some money."
"you grew up here?" he carefully takes your hands.
"i did", you smile, as you finally meet his eyes. "back in my childhood bedroom."
"hot..." he whispers. you laugh.
letting go of his hands, you take a step back.
"my dad has guests... so... i'm sorry to end the night here." you give him a half smile. the butterflies from the nice evening turn to dread. you don't want the night to end, and you want nothing more than to take him to bed, but the potential humiliation of having to sneak him in past your dad and all of his friends stops you.
he takes a step forward and closes the distance between you.
"why does it have to end?" he whispers, taking your hands again. "we don't need to go inside."
you cock your head, unsure of what he means. it's late november, and while the texas climate usually is nothing to complain about, your short dress won't warm your legs after the sun has set, and you're not too keen on getting arrested for indecent exposure either. not tonight, anyway.
a roar of laughter escapes from your house, and you can see your dad's silhouette in the window. next to him, Joel Miller takes a long sip of what's probably his eleventh beer of the night. you've seen him drink alone on his porch, you can't imagine how many units the awkward man goes through in a social situation.
Joel Miller... you look over to his house. his porch lights are on, but the rest of the house is dark. obviously, he's in your house. which means... his is empty...
an idea.
"we don't need to go inside... my house." you whisper back, meeting your date's hungry gaze. he lifts his eyebrows, intrigued, and you lead him away from your house, towards your neighbor's.
your neighbor used to have a cat. you know because you used to feed it. the first time your dad asked if you could pop over once a day while Miller was away you thought it was a joke, because grumpy Mr. Miller didn't strike you as a cat person. even after the cat was hit by Mrs. Adler's car last year he didn't seem like much of a cat person, burying it in his backyard without shedding as much as a tear.
knowing him, though, he still keeps his spare key in the same place.
and with a triumphant look to your date, you pull a key out from under his mat. "ka-ching," you wink. he looks around. "you sure?" he asks, swallowing harshly, as you swing the door open. instead of answering, you grab him by his shirt collar, and pull him inside.
Joel Miller's bedroom is cold, colder than you expected, the blue walls making it feel even colder, and taking off your clothes is not tempting. but given that your dress is already halfway over your head, you go for the skin-to-skin way of warming up instead.
the two of you quickly shimmy under Joel's covers, and a streak of excitement not coming from your date moves down your spine as you inhale the scent from the pillows, and for a brief second imagine what it would be like to share this bed with its owner instead.
while your date is in the bathroom, you let yourself float back into the unexpected fantasy that had hit you. you couldn't deny you hadn't thought about it before. Joel Miller was, for lack for a better word, a DILF. but given his status as your dad's best friend, and your 20 something year age gap, you'd never let yourself dwell on the though too much.
you bury your head in the pillows, inhaling the scent once again, and hear the floorboards creek. expecting it to be your date coming to slip silently back into bed with you, the deep grumble of your neighbor's voice makes you gasp.
“is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”
you flip around, instinctively covering your chest with the blankets.
"mr. miller!" you squeak. "oh my god, miller, i'm so sorry, i--" you stutter as you try to come up with an excuse for the situation.
only a second passes before the toilet flushes, and Joel looks towards the bathroom, before looking back to you, brows raised. "and you have company?"
your date freezes in the doorway, hands shooting down to cover himself. "oh--" he begins, not sure how to continue.
Joel bends down to pick up the young man's shirt from the floor, tossing it at him. he catches it awkwardly, and quickly scrambles to pick up the rest of his clothes. you send him an apologetic look.
"you can go," Joel states, clearly to your date, but he's looking at you. "we'll talk once you're dressed." he throws your panties at you, and walks past the naked man into the hallway, shooting you another glance through the door before you hear him disappear downstairs.
after quickly apologizing to the guy who will surely be calling you "the worst date of his life" from now on, and sending him on his way (no numbers exchanged), you patter down the stairs, hoping Mr. Miller has somehow forgotten the whole thing.
he hasn't. he's sitting at the kitchen island with a beer. your eyes meet, and you look away quickly, not sure where to rest your gaze.
"want one?" Joel holds up his drink and nods towards the fridge.
"i should go, my dad--" you don't finish your sentence, as you turn to leave.
"wait." he calls after you. you stop, not turning around. "your dress."
you sigh. "thanks, it's vintage."
as you're about to keep walking, he calls again.
"it's tucked into your panties."
oh. my. god. oh my god. you quickly untuck it, throwing him a quick glance over your shoulder as you jog towards the door.
you can swear he was smirking.
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