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raedear · 4 months

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a sapphic publication wrote an article about The Old Guard, how it has 4 canon queer characters in the comics, and how Netflix is TERRIBLE at promoting this fact. It was a much needed write-up.

And of course, a Booker fan retweeted it with just a snide comment about how there isn't only 4 queer characters. How was the person who wrote this article supposed to know about a fleeting comment Greg made in a private chat? Why isn't this fan demanding actual queer rep for Booker in canon instead of adding useless commentary like this?

If tptb actually wanted to expand on Booker's queerness, they could've had him in anything other than a nun orgy (something I can't even type without rolling my eyes) in Tales Through Time. And yet.

Maybe Booker fans should focus their energy on correcting that copout, instead of a small sapphic online publication.

(Sorry for the rant, I am just SO tired at some of the punching down that happens in fandom.)

All the sad bisexual headcanons in the world can't make booker queer, soz. Andy and Quynh deserve better than people trying to make this about the dullest character going ~yet again~

I have no idea what the article is or any responses there may have been to it but thank you for telling me, I enjoyed this

#i actually can't even remember what greg tried to word of god him as #was it ace?#i myself am ace. i do not accept greg saying one time in a private discord server that booker might become ace as ace rep #like accept you fell for the lame horse and move on #if you're boring just say so etc #yes this is mean no i don't care #me i mean not you anon #ask me anything my dudes

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hugeegosorry · 10 months

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still confident i hallucinated that house md south park fanfic where Wilson was actually Kyle and he and House got kidnapped by Cartman even though I’ve already reread it a few different times

#house md #in da house #i am not kidding in the slightest.#i didn’t even realize it WAS south park until i googled the names #james wilson #gregory house #greg house #it was hilson yes #south park #oh god #OKAY! time to log off

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magicalgirlartist · 1 year

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[ID: 3 digital drawings of 2 characters (1 higher to the left facing left, 1 to the right facing right) each. The first has 2 young men. The higher one is short with a puffy white coat, blue hat with ear flaps, and big blue and grey boots with belts. His hands are clasped in front of himself and he's smiling gently. A text box beside him says "MATORO, translator and hunter, right hand of Turaga Nuju, legally not allowed to translate Nuju's curse words, friendliest Ko-Matoran ever." The lower one is thinner, with a grey parka with the hood up, a white cape, and blue goggles. He has his hands in his coat pockets and is frowning. A text box beside him says "KOPEKE, ice carver and guard, left hand of Turaga Nuju, bad case of resting bitch face, Matoro's best friend." The second has 1 young man and 1 young androgynous woman. The higher one is lanky with a bright green tank top, unlaced brown and green shoes, a glove on one hand and a beaded bracelet on the other, and feathers in his ponytail. He has one hand on his hip and a bemused expression. A text box beside him says "KONGU, Gukko force captain, right hand of Turaga Matau, a little too serious for his own good, gay gay homosexual gay." The lower one is tall, with a green jumpsuit tied at the waist with a bow, 3 beaded bracelets on one wrist, and sandals. She has one hand to her face and a soft smile. A text box beside her says "TAMARU, navigator, left hand of Turaga Matau, loud and talkative, ADHD icon, egg, terrified of heights, likes to swim." The last has 2 young men. The higher is skinny with a long purple top under a short black vest, purple gloves and boots, and black leggings. He's holding one hand to his chest and the other up, winking. A text box beside him says "ONEPU, captain of the Ussalry, right hand of Turaga Whenua, self-absorbed but, like, nice about it, Taipu's best friend." The lower one is buff, with a light brown top with the sleeves rolled up, black bandana around his neck, chunky black boots, and brown leggings. He's flexing one arm and smiling. A text box beside him says "TAIPU, miner, left hand of Turaga Whenua, Himbo Supreme, doesn't look like Hafu, why does everyone keep saying that." End ID.]

More designs for the Bionicle Sports Anime! Finished the rest of the kolhii teams. Gonna maybe do up some uniform stuff next, or possibly the Turaga and some minor characters like Kotu and Kapura.

Some notes about village fashion under the readmore!

[Commissions open!]

Ko-Koro Fashion: Warm, obviously. Ko-Koro is the coldest place on the island, and while Ko-Matoran are more used to and able to withstand the cold than most others, it's still cold as balls there and they do need to stay warm. Many layers are not only common but encouraged, and a lot of clothes are fur-lined. Snow goggles are also common to help prevent snow blindness. Thick, waterproof boots are a must.

Le-Koro Fashion: Le-Koro is the poster child for "it's not the heat, it's the humidity." Most clothes are light and airy (ha). Feathers are a common decoration, along with flowers from the jungle floor. Kongu is wearing a protective glove to help him with his birds. Friendship bracelets are also popular in Le-Koro. People will make bracelets with their names on beads and give them to their friends. Tamaru has one from Kongu and several from Matoran outside the village as well (Takua and Taipu's are pictured). Kongu has Tamaru's as well.

Onu-Koro Fashion: Onu-Koro is fairly temperate year-round due to its proximity to the Mangai. Clothes tend to be tighter but stretchier due to how much physical labour Onu-Matoran do. They also wear mostly darks, since darker colours hide the dirt. Pretty much everyone wears work boots and gloves at all times as well, even if they aren't miners. Due to their weak eyesight, Onu-Matoran often wear wide-brimmed hats or specially tinted goggles if they have to go above-ground for any length of time.

#bionicle #human bionicle #mnolgii #art #fanart #digital art #yes i specifically used the same colours i picked for hafu when colouring taipu just to make that joke.#tamaru isn't out yet at the start of the story i have planned but i'm calling her she bc she is a girl in this version #who's going to stop me? greg farshtey? god? i have to laugh #bionicle sports anime

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itsmarsss · 3 months

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cool. [Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader] (Diary of a Wimpy Kid)

(from the vault)

You start working as a babysitter for the Heffleys, but a certain someone seems to be bugging his parents to go out more often. Why?

Words: 6,164

Warnings: like one slight sexual/porn innuendo

[. . .]

"What do you mean someone to watch me?” Greg yelled, exhasperated.

Rodrick laughed out loud at the whole situation. “Wait is little Greg here getting a babysitter?”

“Yes, and she starts tomorrow night," their mom replied, matter-of-factly.

“Mom, I’m in seventh grade! I don’t need a babysitter!”

“We’d believe it if the last time we left the two of you alone you hadn’t directly disobeyed the only thing we told you not to do and thrown a party while we were gone," their dad explained.

“Wait. Mom. So I don’t have to watch him? Like ever again?”

“No but you should be ashamed of the reason why-”

“Hell yeah!”

“Rodrick-” He was already up the stairs on the way to his room. She sighed.

“Mom you can’t do this to me. Do you know how bad it'll be if the guys in my grade find out you got me a babysitter?”

“They’re not gonna find out, sweetie.” She patted his head.

“And it’s not negotiable.”

“What your dad said.”

"Dad!”

“I’m sorry, kid! But if it makes you feel better, since Rodrick will be here and we’re getting a babysitter because we can’t leave the two of you alone, she’s teeechnically his babysitter too, right?”

“It doesn’t make me feel better.”

“I tried," he shrugged.

“Where are you two even going tomorrow?”

“We’re having dinner! " Susan exclaimed, excited to talk about it. "Alone, finally, because-”

“Wait couldn't she technically be Manny’s babysitter then?”

“Thank you for caring so much about what I had to say, son.” She sighed once again. “She’s not Manny’s babysitter because Manny’s gonna stay with your grandma.”

Greg huffed and made a point to be extremely loud when stumping upstairs to his room, immediately getting cornered by Rodrick.

“So… a babysitter, huh? And I thought your seventh grade couldn’t get any worse.”

“D´you think it’ll be that bad?”

“Dude they probably got you an old lady who smells like a museum whos gonna make you eat soup at like five PM and sleep at seven.”

Greg widened his eyes and furrowed his eyebrows, worried at the thought of what his brother was making him imagine. “You think?”

“Yup. And I’m not even talking about the total humiliation it's gonna be if someone your age finds out.”

“Crap.”

“Good luck with that.” Rodrick was obviously enjoying the mere thought of the torture that was going to follow.

. . .

“A babysitter?” Rowley asked, rather loudly. Greg quickly put his hand over his best friend's mouth.

“Dude! Can you be quiet?”

“Hmmph!” Rowley tried to protest.

Greg released his hand from over his mouth. “Sorry.”

“Why do I need to be quiet?”

“Because I don’t want anybody to know!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Rowley!”

Rowley just shrugged. “I wouldn’t be embarrassed. A babysitter sounds fun! Maybe she’ll read you bedtime stories! And play board games with you!”

Greg just looked at him incredulously. “Just don’t say anything about this to anyone., okay?"

Rowley suddenly started to look really nervous. “You know I can’t lie…”

“It’s not lying! It’s just not mentioning it! No one’s gonna ask about it.”

“Okay. Fine.” He didn't seem that sure about it, but Greg knew he'd try his best.

. . .

You took in a sharp breath before knocking on the front door. It took no time for it to be sprung open, and you were greeted by a smiling Mrs. Heffley. You retributed the smile.

“Hi Mrs. Heffley!”

“Hey, sweetie! How are you?” She asked as she ushered you into the house, startling you when she closed the door behind you as you walked in.

“I’m alright! How about you guys? Your dress looks so pretty!”

“Oh my God, thank you! You know it’s been ages since I’ve worn a pretty dress to go out, you can’t trust three kids with a pretty dress, they're always gonna ruin it.”

“Oh God that must be hell,” you laughed along with her. “Where are you guys headed tonight?”

“Looking forward to having dinner in peace,” she laughed again. “Manny!” she yelled suddenly, startling you yet again.

A little boy walked in in his diapers, holding his pants up with both hands.

“Manny can you just please put on your pants?” Mr. Heffley followed the kid around, frustratedly asking him for what you assumed must have been at leat a fourth time to put his pants on, judging by the tone in his voice and the sigh that accompanied it.

“No!”

“Manny!” Ms. Heffley yelled yet again. The kid did what he was supposed to.

“Um I didn’t- is Manny gonna be staying with me tonight?”

“No! No,” she laughed. “Don’t worry, we’re taking him to my mother’s house.”

“Oh, right. Okay.” You tried to let out how relieved you were. Little kids were a whole other level of difficult, specially at Manny's age.

“Darling are you ready?” Susan asked her husband.

“Yeah! Yeah.”

“Greg!” she yelled again.

“What?” The boy yelled back from his room upstairs.

“Y/n’s here! Come say hi!”

“Who’s y/n?”

“Your babysitter!”

He came downstairs. Very slowly. “Mom I already-” He stopped. “You’re not an old lady!"

“Gregory! We don't say that to people! What is that about?"

“I’m sorry! I meant- Rodrick told me my babysitter was gonna be an old lady who smelled like a museum."

"Of course he did," Mr. Heffley said, under his breath.

You pretended to smell yourself. “I think I might smell more like an art gallery maybe,” you joked.

“I’m so sorry about this."

“It’s fine, Mrs. Heffley! Don’t worry about it. Now you two go have some fun, alright? Come on."

“Yeah! Okay. Right. There’s money on the table, you can order whatever you want for dinner the kids will eat whatever. Just grab the money before Rodrick comes downstairs or he's gonna pocket it. If you need anything you can call, okay? Really, anything.”

“Don’t worry about it! I promise I’ll call if anything happens! But I think we’re just gonna stay and eat some food and watch some movies, right Greg?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess.”

“Please be nice, Greg. Oh and if Rodrick bothers you tell him I said he’ll be grounded if I hear he's not letting you work alright?"

“Sure thing! Thank you. Now go!” You joked, pretending to send them off.

. . .

You and Greg had both sat down on the couch in the living room.

“So. You’re not an old lady.”

“Nope.”

“Are you in high school?”

“Yes I am.”

“What grade are you in?"

“I’m a senior!”

“Oh. Rodrick’s a senior too.”

“Cool! I don’t think I’ve seen him around though.”

“Lucky.”

“Why’s that?”

“He makes my life hell!”

“Well don’t you make his life hell at least a tiny little bit?”

“Maybe a little bit.”

“That’s just your job.”

“Trust me no girls like him.”

“Whatever, Heffley. So what do you wanna do?”

“Can we play video games?”

“Depends on what you have.”

“Apocalypse of The Damned?”

“I have never heard of that in my entire life.”

“You’re gonna like it I swear!”

“Alright. But you have to bring me the money your mom left on the table, I’m gonna order us some pizza.”

“Deal!” He ran out to the kitchen, getting back with the money in no time.

. . .

“Hey I was thinking. Can my friend sleep over?” Greg asked, obviously having been preparing himself to do so for the past few minutes, while furiously hitting buttons on his controller as you scrolled through your phone, having gotten tired of playing at that point.

“Um. Is your friend gonna give me any trouble?”

“No! You can- you can trust us.”

“Is he annoying?”

He seemed to take his time to think of an answer. “A little. But he’s pretty cool.”

“Fine, I’ll ask your mom.”

You clicked on Mrs. Heffley’s contact name.

hi mrs heffley

how's the date going? im sorry to interrupt

You didn't even have the time to finish writing the next text before she was calling you. You picked it up.

“Is everything okay?” Susan asked, clearly worried.

“Oh, yes. Everything’s fine, you don't have to worry! I’m so sorry to interrupt your date, Greg wanted a friend to stay over and I just wanted to see if that’s okay with you.”

“Is it Rowley?”

“Sorry?”

“The friend, is it Rowley?”

“Is it Rowley?” You asked Greg, leaning away from the phone, to which he just nodded his head yes. “Yeah, Rowley.”

“Okay, of course he can! And don’t worry, I’ll pay you extra for it.”

“Oh, that’s really nice, thank you. Now you should go back to your date, I'm so sorry to bother.”

“No worries! Are you sure everything’s fine?”

“Yes! We ordered pizza and we’re playing video games right now. Everything under control.”

“And Rodrick?”

“Uh, I haven’t really seen him honestly. He definitely hasn’t left his room though.”

“Okay, thank you.”

“Bye!” You hung up.

“So?”

“Yeah, call your friend. Ask him if he has any board games we can play!”

Greg did as you said, and, in about half an hour, a little boy with a yellow shirt with a dog on it stood at the door.

“Are you Greg’s babysitter?’

“Uh yeah, I am.”

“Cool!" He looked at Greg behind you. "You told me she was old!”

“Rowley!”

“What? You did!”

You laughed at the interaction and let them do their thing, only asking them to stay by the living room so you could keep an eye on them. You sat on the couch, scrolling through your phone again as you knew the pizza should be about to get there.

The doorbell rang in no time. You stood up to pay for it, grabbing the large-size pizza and tipping the delivery guy, who didn’t look very friendly at all. You brought it in. “Hey Greg can you go call your brother?”

“Yeah!”

He ran up the stairs, and you set the box down on the dining table, Rowley sitting down. Greg came back.

“He told me to bring it to him.”

“Why?"

"He just doesn't wanna come downstairs."

"You don't have to do it.”

“What? He’s gonna beat me up for it!”

“Not with me here. I got you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Chill out.”

. . .

“Hey you little asshole? I told you to bring my pizza!” A voice exclaimed from the second floor, and Greg muffled a quiet ‘shit’.

“Hey don’t say that!” You scolded Greg for swearing as a reflex.

“Hey? Are you not listening?” Rodrick was clearly close to the kitchen now. He walked through the door. “I said get me so-” he stopped dead on his tracks when he saw you.

“Who’s this?” He asked the boys.

“That’s Y/N,” Rowley said, through gulps.

"And I'm right here you know? You could just ask me who I am."

“Well who are you? And what are you doing… here?” He leaned over the wall, in a poor attempt to look cool. You had to fight yourself tas not to laugh uncontrollably at the sight.

“Well I seem to be your babysitter for the night.”

“What?”

“Did you also expect an old lady? You know, that's a really common and really hurtful babysitter stereotype, you really should think about the things you say now.”

“Wha- huh- yeah- I’ll just-” He let out a weird laugh, and walked up to the table, grabbing himself a slice of pizza and stuffing it into his mouth, seemingly to shut himself up.

“Well we’re gonna watch a movie after we’re done eating. You wanna join?”

“Oh he’s not gonna-” Greg started talking, but Rodrick quickly interrupted him, almost choking on his food as he did so.

“Yeah! Yeah! What are we uh- what are we watching?”

“Zathura.”

“What the fuck is Zathura?”

“Don’t swear in front of them!”

“Sorry.”

Greg looked at Rowley like Rodrick had just gone insane. Did he just apologize?

You laughed. “I’m kidding. You guys don’t mind, do you?”

They both slowly nodded their head no.

“Cool. As long as you don’t repeat it in front of your parents, alright? Don’t wanna get me in trouble.”

“We’re not five!"

“Well you do look like it,” Rodrick commented, and Greg stuck his tongue out at him.

. . .

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Rodrick commented, pointing at the screen.

“It’s not supposed to! It’s a kids movie about a magical board game,” you pointed out.

“Let me guess, did Rowley pick this one?”

“For your information, I did. You got a problem?”

“No.”

Rowley had, in fact, picked this one.

Greg and Rowley shared a look again. This was getting bizzarre.

The movie was over in about half an hour, and it was time for you to put Greg to sleep.

“But it’s so early!” The boy complained, and you laughed.

“I know, but you don’t have to sleep now, you just gotta go to bed! I can’t, like, force you to sleep.”

He let out an annoyed groan before agreeing and pulling Rowley with him by the wrist. “Fine.”

“I’ll be upstairs in a few!” You yelled out, and went to the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. It wasn’t really something Mrs. Heffley had explicitly asked you to do, but you had those extra minutes and wanted to get on her good side.

What you didn’t expect was to come in to find Rodrick still standing there, startling himself when you walked in.

“Uh hey!” His voice was high-pitched, clearly not expecting to see you there so soon.

“Hey.” You wordlessly walked to the sink, starting with the dishes. And then he offered to help you, which didn’t fit the image you had of him at all.

“What?”

“I said do you want some help? I can dry them.”

“Uh sure. Thanks.”

He just nodded, grabbing a cloth. “So did you put them to sleep yet?”

“Yeah they’re supposed to call me when they’re ready. Then I’m pretty much done.”

“Are you leaving like right after?” Was he… disappointed?

“Well not right after, your mom still has to pay me.”

“Right. She paying you extra for the dishes?”

“No,” you laughed, “just wanna score some points. This job’s good money, you know? But don’t tell her I said that.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You nodded, a little awkwardly. “So what’s the deal with the van?”

“What?”

“The huge white van parked right outside? I assume it’s not your mom’s.”

“Yeah.”

“Couldn’t you have picked a better color?”

“What?”

“You know something other than the classic creepy white van?”

He actually laughed. “I don’t think a creep would have ‘löded diper’ written on the door.”

“Maybe you’re just trying not to look too suspicious.”

“Wouldn’t you like to find out?” Was he… flirting? Well, that was… an attempt.

“What, are you inviting me? You know, I was taught not to get into creepy white vans with strangers.”

“We’re not strangers!” He held his hand up for you to shake, which you did. “I’m Rodrick.”

“Y/N.”

“So. Ho'wd you end up babysitting Greg out of all people?”

“I mean, your dad posted something about it in the newspaper and my mom told me about it. Some extra money, you know?”

“And you’re sure it’s worth it? I mean he’s a big pain in the ass.”

“Aren’t all brothers?”

“I’m not.”

“Right. You’re like a dictator to him!”

“No I’m not!”

“He was scared you were gonna beat him up if he didn’t bring you pizza.”

“He’s dumb. I wasn’t gonna beat him up that badly.”

You laughed. “Well, we’re done. Thank you for the help. You can go now if you wanna.”

“You sound like a mom.”

“Oh my god! Stop trying to make me sound old! I'm some granny cinderella who turns into an old lady who smells like a museum when midnight strikes," you teased him, and he scrunched up his nose in embarrassment.

"Right. He told you about that.”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry. To be fair, I never had a babysitter, you know? I just thought they were all old and boring.”

“Do you think I’m old and boring?” You joked.

He snorted. “No, you’re pretty.” His eyes widened, realizing what he’d just said. Way to go. “Not in that- well not that you’re not pretty, you are, but you know what I mean. You’re uh- you’re pretty compared to what I- expected?"

It was stupid, but you could feel yourself blush a little. Why was it that you always fell for the most absolute idiots? “So I’m pretty… compared to an old woman.”

“I think you should let me start over.”

“But-”

“Y/N!” You heard Greg yell from upstairs, and you left the kitchen to go see him, going up the stairs and entering his room.

“Okay, we ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you brush your teeth?”

“Yes!”

“Both of you?”

“Yup.”

“Okay I’ll believe you. But your mom told me you’re on thin ice.”

Greg rolled his eyes and both boys got on the bed.

“Okay, goodnight. If you don’t sleep right away don’t make too much noise.”

“Are you coming over tomorrow?”

“Why, did you actually like me?”

“Just a little.”

You smiled. “Well no. But I think I might next week.”

“Cool! ‘Night, Y/N!”

“‘Night!”. You closed the door behind you, and walked downstairs to wait for Mrs. and Mr. Heffley to return so you could go home.

You stopped on the hallway to send your mom a quick text saying you were fine and should be leaving in a few before making your way to the living room.

To your surprise, Rodrick hadn’t gotten back to his room. Instead, he was laying on the couch, his entire body draped over it as he scrolled through his phone. He sat right up when he saw you. “Hey Y/N.”

“Hey. You not have anything to do?”

“I’m offended. But no I don’t.”

You laugh, sitting down beside him. “Okay. Well your parents must be on their way, so. Don’t have much to do either.”

“You wanna watch something?”

“What do you have in mind?”

“Well a real movie.”

“Zathura’s a real movie! I like it!”

“You actually do?”

“Yes!”

“Whatever. Well an adult movie I mean.”

“Uh, an adult movie?”

“No! Not that kind!” He was blushing furiously and you found it hilarious.

“Yeah whatever. What do you have?”

You ended up settling on a Marvel movie, but you barely had the time to start it before the doorbell rang, and you had to go get the door.

“Hey Y/N! I’m sorry we took so long, we had to go get Manny.”

“That’s fine! Rodrick and I were just about to watch a movie!”

“Rodrick came downstairs?” Mr. Heffley sounded genuinely surprised.

“Well you can finish it if you want!”

“Oh, no, I really should get going. We can finish it another time.”

“Oh well. Okay.” She put Manny down and grabbed her wallet, handing you your money. “Here, with the extra from Rowley. Hope they didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Oh they were so cool! I was surprised.”

“Oh that’s great to hear! If they haven’t traumatized you too much we’d love to have you sit them again.”

“Oh definitely! Just give me a call.”

“Thank you, Y/N. Are you driving home?”

“Oh, no, I’m actually walking. I thought we’d be done a little earlier.”

“Oh that’s not good, we can take you-”

“I can take her!” Rodrick yelled, almost falling off of the couch in his eagerness. He stood up, walking toward you. His dad looked like he was short-circuiting.

“Are you sure?” His mom asked.

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go.” He walked quickly past the front door and into the white van.

“Sure. Bye Mrs. Heffley!”

“Bye sweetie! Tell me if he bothers you too much!”

You walked towards the van, getting in on the passenger’s seat. He turned the engine on in silence. There was an awkward atmosphere surrounding you, and you didn’t know why.

You cleared your throat. “So uh. Thanks for driving me.”

“Yeah it’s chill. Where do I turn?”

“Oh let me just- give me your phone.”

“What?”

“So I can put the address on the GPS?”

“Oh. Sure.” He handed it to you after unlocking it, and you did as you said.

“Turn left in 200 feet,” the disembodied voice said, and he did.

“You don’t have to uh- do these things for me. You know, drive me home, help me with the dishes. It’s nice, but I’m not gonna tell on you if you don’t.”

“I know. I uh. I want to.”

“You wanna do the dishes?”

“I wanna help you.”

“Why?”

He shrugged. “Dunno.”

“Fine.”

You got home pretty quickly, as you didn’t live a long way from the Heffley residence, and got out of the car.

“Thank you for driving me! Goodnight.”

“Yeah!” Rodrick yelled back, and waited for you to get in to drive off. There was a smile on your lips you couldn’t shake off, and you felt stupid for it. Was the weird wannabe rock band kid really having an effect on you?

. . .

On wednesday, you got a call from Ms. Heffley again. And then on friday, and saturday, and sunday. This could not be normal, right? But it was money, so you obviously wouldn’t refuse it. So you pulled up to the Heffley residence for the fifth time on sunday, knocking on the door as usual.

Greg opened it this time, greeting you with a confused expression. “You’re here again?”

“Miss me, kid?”

“Are they going out again?”

“Apparently.”

“Mom, Y/N’s here!”

“Oh hey sweetie! Thank you for coming!”

“No problem! Where are you off to today?”

“Well we’re going bowling. Rodrick found us these pamphlets at the mall and wouldn’t stop bugging us about trying it out, so we decided to give it a go.”

“Oh he did?” That was strange.

“And you seem to have things so under control! I can’t believe we’ve been going out so much!”

“Well I’m happy to hear it. When will you be back?”

“I’d say eleven if that’s not too late for you?”

“Oh definitely not! As long as Rodrick can drive me.”

“Oh that won’t be a problem. You ready, darling?” She asked her husband, who walked by holding Manny in one arm and a huge bag in the other.

“Yeah.”

"Everything there?” Susan asked him, referring to the bag. She turned back to you. “Manny’s staying over at my mom’s for the first time today. Isn’t that exciting?”

“Yeah!" You exclaimed, not really getting all the excitement about it. You supposed you would if you were his mom. Right now you were just happy you didn’t have to watch over him too. Little kids were always more difficult.

“Okay bye everyone!”

Greg and Rodrick were right behind you the moment you closed the door.

“Can we make pasta?’ Greg asked, and damn, the little dude must have had some sugar because he looked like he’d downed like three energy drinks at once.

“Well yeah. I make a killer pasta. Is Rowley coming today?”

“Yeah!”

“Cool.”

“Do you want help with the food?” Rodrick finally spoke up, and Greg looked at him like he was speaking Greek.

“Sure.”

“Are you okay?’ Greg couldn’t contain himself from asking him.

“What do you mean, assface?”

“Did you just offer to help with the food?”

“Yeah?”

“Who are you?”

“Oh shut it, dickhead.” You didn’t miss the nervous glance he gave you, clearly signaling something about you to Greg. And then Greg seemed to figure something out, his eyes going wide.

“Oh! Is that why you-” Rodrick looked alarmed, putting his hand against Greg’s mouth to keep him from talking, but he managed to get himself free. “Is that why you’ve been trying to get mom and dad to go out all week?”

“Hah. Don’t know what he’s talking about, pssht.” Rodrick laughed nervously.

“Uh sure. Well I’m already hungry so I’m thinking early dinner and then we can make dessert?”

“Yes!” Greg yelled.

“Okay but if we’re making the food you gotta set the table. Deal?”

Greg groaned in annoyance, but agreed. “Fine.” He went on his way, and you and Rodrick made your own way to the kitchen.

“So,” you started, as you grabbed the pasta from the cabinet. “You’ve been trying to get your parents to go out all week.”

He looked everywhere but at you. “Uh, I don’t know what the kid’s on about.”

“Well, shame. Cause I was gonna thank you.”

“For what?”

“Well the more times a week I work the more money I get right?”

“Oh right. Right. So yeah you can thank me.”

“So you were setting them up to go out. Why?”

He shrugged, trying to seem cool. “Wanted to be alone.”

“You’re not alone now. You could be in your room. Or like out with your friends or whatever.”

“I didn’t anticipate that you’d actually be cool.”

“Oh you think I’m cool?”

“Yeah.”

The water started to boil, and you threw the pasta in the pot, stirring it with a fork.

“Cool. You’re kinda cool too. You know when you’re not trying to be impressive.”

“I’m not trying to impress you!”

“I didn’t say you were trying to impress me .”

“Well I was.”

“You were.”

“Did it work?”

“Why’d you want to impress me?”

“Cause you’re cool. I wanted you to think I’m cool too.”

“Huh. Maybe I do.”

“Cool.”

“Y/N I’M DONE! I THINK ROWLEY’S HERE !” Greg’s voice came from the dining room.

“I didn’t hear the doorbell, are you sure?” You yelled back, walking past Rodrick to get the front door. Maybe you were too lost in the conversion to hear it, because the boy was standing right there when you opened it.

“Hey Y/N!” He said with a smile, greeting you with a hug, which was very on-brand for the kid.

“Hey Rowley. You alright?”

“Yeah! I brought water balloons!”

“You did?”

“Well they’re not full of water yet so they’re just balloons but yeah.”

“Cool! You should tell Greg!”

“Will you play with us?”

“Oh I don’t know, I don’t have clothes I can get wet-”

“Well that’s not a problem!” Rodrick said, and you frowned in confusion. “You can borrow mine!”

“Oh I don-”

“C’mon, Y/N, you really gonna disappoint the boy?”

“Shut up. Fine, but you’re playing too.”

“Deal.”

“Yes!” Rowley exclaimed, before taking off, presumably to go find Greg.

“Well you wanna go up to my room?” Rodrick asked, apparently having otten some confidence from out of the blue, sporting a cocky smirk.

You laughed. “You wish. Just bring me a t-shirt.”

“Yeah. Someone’s gonna be looking like the number one Loded Diper fan out there.”

“If you bring me a white shirt I will beat you up!” You yelled, and he was already on his way upstairs. You took the past out of the pot, mixing it with the sauce you’d made, which was the easiest one you could find.

Rodrick was back as soon as you set the pot down on the table, handing you a gray shirt that , of course, had ‘loded diper’ written on it in terrible handwriting.

“Thanks.” You draped the shirt over your shoulder and all of you ate in silence, apparently all stupidly hungry for some reason.

You were done pretty quickly, but made sure to get Greg and Rowley to promise to help with the dishes this time, since there were more.

“Okay! We’re gonna get changed!”

“Yeah me too!” You yelled back, making your way to the bathroom, changing into Rodrick’s gray shirt.

It didn’t hang as loose as you thought it would, and you laughed at the thought of Rodrick wearing a tight shirt for no reason. You supposed it was an old one he decided to turn into loded diper merch. Loded diper. What a stupid fucking name. You guessed it was fit.

Someone knocked on the bathroom door. Rodrick. “You done? These kids are little demons, they talk so much!”

You laughed, unlocking the door and grabbing your own shirt before opening it.

“Hello?” He looked wide-eyed, like his brain was malfunctioning, staring profusely at his shirt. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat, awkwardly. “Fine. The shirt alright?”

“Yeah. A lot smaller than I expected. Does Rodrick Heffley wear crop tops?”

He shrugged, embarrassed. “Sometimes. That bad?”

“No.”

“Chicks dig the crop tops, you know.”

“Oh do they?”

“Don’t you?”

“I guess I’d have to see you in one to give an opinion.”

“Yeah that’s not happening any soon."

“Shame.”

“What?”

“I said let’s go.”

You barely had the time to walk into the front yard before Rodrick was hit on the face by a huge water balloon. You turned to see a terrified-looking Rowley at the other side. Rodrick gained his bearings again.

“Oh you’re in, you little shit!” He seemed way too determined on winning this, but who were you to judge?

Him and Rowley occupied themselves with each other pretty much the whole time, as you did with Greg, until you got hit rather strongly in the back. You stopped what you were doing, which was aiming your next balloon at Greg, who was right in front of you, and turned around to see Rodrick laughing at you.

“Motherfucker-” you cursed yourself mentally for swearing in front of the kids, hoping they wouldn ‘t tell on you, and launched the balloon at him at full speed, it landing on his chest.

“Hey!”

You played for about half an hour more until the sun set, and you decided it was best to get back inside. All three complained, and you laughed at the situation, because you supposed you did sort of sound like a mom when trying to convince them to get in, but they ended up listening.

“Okay what are we watching tonight?” You asked as you closed the front door behind you and dried your feet on the mat by the entrance.

“Oh can we watch a horror movie?” Greg asked.

“Nope, we know how that ends.”

“But we’ve changed!”

“It’s been less than a week!”

“People change!” Greg tried to plead, but you knew Mrs. Heffley wouldn’t like it if you caved in.

“No can do, Gregory. We can watch that Adam Sandler movie you wanted though.”

“With the little kid?”

“Yeah.”

“Fine.”

You were halfway through a second movie when the boys decided it was time for dessert, and you still had a little while before the Heffleys came back, so you decided you’d all bake cupcakes.

They didn’t turn out as great as you wished they would, but also weren’t half bad. They were a little flat and maybe a little toasted on the top, but were otherwise pretty edible. You covered them with some frosting and ate them as you finished the movie.

It turned out when you were done the Heffleys still hadn’t come back, so you decided to put the boys to sleep then. You came back to Ridrick looking at you at the other end of the hallway.

“Hey,” you said, not expecting him to be there.

You stood there in silence for a few moments before he cleared his throat and started talking.

“Um do you wanna hang out? ‘Till they're back?” It was funny, with him. One moment he’d be full of confidence, flirting with you at the max, but, in a second, his entire demeanor would change and he’d look unsure, insecure to ask you anything.

You were starting to wonder if he wasn’t just being a stupid hormonal teenager and if he actually, maybe, had a little bit of a crush on you. But you wouldn’t entertain those thoughts, of course. First because you could be completely misinterpreting the situations, and second because you needed the job, and you hadn’t gotten enough of a read on his mom to know if she’d be cool with that.

Still, you did have nothing else to do but scroll through your phone as you waited. “Sure.”

“Oh! Cool. Uh, my room’s right there,” he pointed to a white door by his left, and you followed him in. It actually looked pretty cool. It was sort of exactly what you expected his room to look like, except maybe a little messier, if that was possible.

To each their own, I guess. It’s not like you were the cleanest person to ever walk the Earth. You sat down on his bed, and he opted to sit down on a beanbag just in front of you.

TIt's safe to say things were a little awkward. “Uh. So. Cool room.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

You studied the multiple posters he had glued to his walls. “Oh, The Cure. Cool.”

“Yeah. They’re not like super my style or anything. But they’re cool.”

“What would be your style?”

“I don’t know. Hard rock.”

“Huh. I don’t know. You just look like one of those guys who like rock but secretly listen to Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber or something when they’re alone.”

“What- what I would never- I don’t-” busted.

You laughed at him as he tried to deny it. “I think it’s cool.”

He stopped. “You do?”

“Yeah. Taylor Swift’s cool.”

“Yeah uh. Girls dig that.”

“Do you really know what girls dig or do you just make random guesses?”

“I’m well-informed.”

“Oh are you? You have a girlfriend or something?” Subtle.

He scoffed. “Pfft. Yeah.”

“Uh- huh.”

He gave in. “No, I don’t.”

“Okay”

“You're a girl. What do you dig then?”

“What a romantic way to phrase that question. I guess I don’t know. Never stopped to think of it. What do you think we dig?”

“Uh. Bad boys?”

You let out a laugh. “Yeah I guess. But it depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether they’re nice to us.”

“So you want bad boys who are actually nice.”

“Yeah.”

“That doesn’t make sense. Uh. But I can be nice.”

“Who said you’re a bad boy to begin with?”

“Um rock band? Cool eyeliner?” He motioned to himself, mockingly.

“Well who do you wanna be nice for?”

“Uh. You? Obviously.”

Your smile faltered. There was the confidence making an appearance again.

“What?”

“Uh. You know. So I can uh- practice. For other... girls?”

“Right.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Okay I ‘m lost.”

“Do you wanna go out with me? ” He blurted out at rapid speed.

Okay, sudden much? “What?”

“Uh. We could… go to the movies or something? You seem to like movies.”

“Right. But as a… date?”

“Yeah.”

You thought about it. It was just a date, it’s not like his mom would get mad about a date, right?

“Sure.”

“What?”

“I said sure.”

His eyes widened, he didn’t seem to have been expecting a positive answer. “Oh! That’s cool! That's- cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

He began standing up. “Well, do you wanna-” In that very moment, before he could finish, the doorbell rang, and you made your way past him, running downstairs and getting the front door.

“Y/N! How are we?”

You hoped the blush on your cheeks wasn’t as visible as it felt as you talked to her. “We’re great! Greg and Rowley are already in bed, Rodrick and I have been uh. Hanging out.”

“Oh that’s nice of him!” She turned to face her husband, who, in turn, grabbed your wrist.

“What have you done to him? Are you some sort of witch?” He asked you.

You laughed awkwardly. “Oh it’s all him! He was showing me the posters in his room, we like the same bands!”

“Oh do you uh. Like rock too?”

“Yeah, something like that.”

“Well we’re taking too much of your time. Is Rodrick driving you home?”

Oh, right. Shit. He was.

“Yeah I uh, think so.”

With that, he walked into your view, holding up the van keys. He’d apparently put on shades, probably so his parents wouldn’t see he had eyeliner on.

“Why do you have sunglasses on?” Mr. Heffley asked him as he walked past them.

“It’s called fashion, dad!”

Mrs. Heffley handed you the money for the night, and you went on your way, getting into the van with Rodrick, who, by now, didn’t need the GPS to get to your place. Except he wasn’t driving to your place at all.

“What are you doing?”

“Wanted a slushie. That cool?”

“I guess.”

He stopped by a 7/11 and bought each of you a slushie and some chocolate bars, which you ate outside. The wind started to get harsher, and you crossed your arms around your chest for warmth. He caught on to that, taking his striped hoodie off and giving it to you. You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You’re cold.”

“Yeah but you’ll be cold.”

“Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“You’re not a rockstar.”

“Not yet."

You raised an eyebrow at him, unamused.

"Just take it!”

You did, and put it on. This one hung looser than the shirt you’d borrowed earlier. It did help. You tried your best to contain the smile that was insisting on forming on your lips. You knew it was dumb.

“Thanks,” you mumbled under your breath, and you could see him smirk, proud of himself. “You’re so cheesy. Wouldn’t take you for it.”

“I’m not cheesy. I’m just not an asshole.”

“You kinda are.”

“Shut up!”

You ate in silence for a bit before you decided to say what was on your mind. “Hey about that date?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t… I don’t know if we should do it.”

He tried to seem chill about it, but he looked a little hurt. “Why?”

“Well it’s not that I don’t want to! I do. For… some reason,” you added, trying to lighten up the mood. “But do you think your mom would be cool with it? I mean I don’t wanna lose this job and I don’t know if she’d really like us being alone if we’re dating.”

His face lit up. “So you’re thinking about dating me?”

Oh, you’d messed up big time now, he’d never let this go. “No! That’s not what I meant!”

“I think it is.”

“Fuck off!”

“Oh we’re using big boy words now?” He grinned.

“Shut up.”

“Well. Don’t think that should be a problem. They don’t have to know.”

“What do you mean?”

“What, do you tell your parents everything? They don’t have to know we’re dating.”

“Yeah but we’re not dating.”

“Not yet.”

“Shut up!”

“They don’t have to know we’re going on a date, then. Plus, the days you work can be like little dates.”

“Yeah except there will be two children up our asses.”

“You can manage.”

“Fine, Heffley. But if I lose my job you’ll be owing me. Like literal money.”

“Deal.”

“Cool.”

“Yeah. Cool.”

[. . .]

A/N: sometimes ur 20 pages into a diary of a wimpy kid rodrick heffley oneshot and you ask urself wtf am i doing with my life. this is the product of that. i wrote this THREE YEARS AGO WOW so i edited some of it to post it here but nothing major cause i didn't want it to lose its energy lol. btw i was in fact like. actually in high school at the time lmao. luv yall!

#diary of a wimpy kid #doawk #rodrick heffley #rodrick rules #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley imagine #greg heffley #rowley jefferson #imagine #x reader

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reareaotaku · 4 months

Text

No Fun Babysitting

Summary: Greg's mother gets him and Manny a babysitter, because Rodrick is 'too busy' with Band practice, and she wants a reliable sitter while her and Frank go out. Though, Rodrick's plans change when he finds out who the babysitter is. Pairings: Rodrick x Fem! Reader [Since my Rodrick posts always tend to do well, here's another you Rodrick lovers!] God this probably so dumb lol. So sorry if it's bad lol

"A babysitter?" Greg looked at his mother like she was crazy. He was 13, he didn't need a babysitter! Maybe Manny, but certainly not him. "Why do I need a babysitter?"

His mother, Susan, finishes drying off a plate, before turning towards him, "Well, Rodrick," She gestures to Rodrick who was sitting at the dining room table eating a bowl of cereal, "has a gig and I need someone reliable to watch you and Manny while me and your father are out."

"Doesn't Gramma usually watch Manny?" Rodrick asked, since they had never offered to pay HIM to watch the kids.

"She's busy."

"Why can't I watch Manny?"

Susan laughs, causing Greg to frown and roll his eyes.

"Oh, Greg. You have not shown me you are responsible enough to care for a goldfish, much less your little brother. Besides, she's supposed to be really good, her name is Y/n."

Rodrick almost spit out his food when he heard the name of Y/n and he was very quick to clarify, "Y/n? Like Y/n L/n, Y/n?"

Susan hums, before rubbing her chin and nodding, "Yes I believe so."

"She's going to be here?"

"Why do you care?" Greg quick asked, suspicious.

"I don't," Rodrick quickly justifies, trying to cover up his previous excitement. He quickly gets up and heads to his room, completely forgetting about the food.

Susan and Greg watched as he left, while the latter grew suspicious.

---

"Thank you so much for coming at such late notice," Susan hands you Manny, who wiggled in her grasp.

"It's really no problem, Mrs. Heffley. I hope you and your husband have a good night out."

"Me, too," She jokes, before shaking her head, "Our numbers are on the fridge and if we don't answer, there's the number of the restaurant...."

You nod your head, listening as she goes on and on about safety and such. When she finally left, you waved her off before carrying Manny into the living room. "So, what do you like to do, Manny?"

Before he could answer, Rodrick quickly rushes in, his guitar hanging off his back. He was covered in sweat and his hair was dismayed/a mess. He pushes his hand through his hair, before looking at you in feigned confusion.

"Oh, Y/n right? I didn't know you were going to be here."

"What are you talking about? Mom sai-"

Rodrick quickly got his shoe and threw it at Greg, hitting him smack in the face. He [Rodrick] pushes inbetween you and Manny, leaning on his hand, "Hey."

"Hi?" You looked past him, towards Manny, who was pushing on Rodrick's back.

"What.. uh, brings you around?"

"Um... What do you mean?"

He turns to face forward , leaning back on his hands, "Uh, you know, ummm...." He clicks his tongue, before looking back at you, "You like music, right?"

"Everyone likes music."

"Right!" He stands up pointing to you, Manny finally looking relieved that Rodrick had moved from his spot.

Manny gets down from the seat and pulls out a puzzle from under the table. You watch him closely as Rodrick still continues to talk.

"I'm in a band, you should come listen."

"Uhuh... Band?" You now looked at him when registering his words.

"Oh, yeah. We're called the Loaded Diaper [Löded Diper]."

"Loaded Diaper?"

"Yeah."

"When you hear them, you'll understand the name," Greg jokes, before hiding under the table when seeing Rodrick's glare.

You look at Greg, before humming and nodding, "I see. Ummm... What kind of music do you guys play?"

"Rock."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense... Um... Maybe I can come some time."

"Yeah, you should. Just let me know when you're free."

"Yeah, will do."

He walks away from the living room and out the front door, but not before fist bumping, thrilled to have a 'date' kind of.

#diary of a wimpy kid #rodrick rules #rodrick x reader #rodrick x y/n #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick heffley #doawk rodrick #doawk #doawk rodrick x reader

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hxlda-hxlda · 5 months

Text

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.”

famous interview au oneshot thingy inspired by @sebbianas post which you can find here!!!! read the idea and could NOT get it out of my head until she was sitting in a google doc, and now here. enjoy:

“Now, since you came out in that viral Instagram post…”

Sirius sighs, doing nothing to hide his exhaustion for what he knows is to come.

The original intention behind the whole fucking thing was to stop the constant questions. The:

‘Sirius, you wore a skirt to that event so who are you dating because, clearly, the two have to be correlated?’, ‘Sirius, you’ve always been a bit different’, ‘Sirius!’, Sirius–’, ‘Sirius…’

He’d hoped—stupidly, naively—that to get rid of the ambiguity would get rid of the incessant wondering. Sure, he fucked men, yes, he wore eyeliner and skirts, no the two weren’t really related, now can we please move the fuck on?

No. No, we apparently cannot move the fuck on. The questions and the speculation and, and, and; it’s all still fucking there.

“Sirius, there’s been talk of a relationship with bass player Remus Lupin for a while now. New rumours are sparking since the two of you have been spotted together a lot lately.”

They’re both thinking of those pap pictures leaving the bar last month.

“We were wondering if you could give us the inside scoop?” Greg is staring at him like he’s asking something new, like Sirius is actually very eager to share with the world the complexities of his relationships, as if it has anything to do with his modelling. It doesn’t, if you were wondering. Fucking men has nothing to do with a runway, either, actually. “Really, what is going on between the two of you?”

Sirius has been given press training many, many times, to field these kinds of questions. His agent, Gideon, had him memorise all the correct responses back to front, upside down. Curveball questions, sneaky implications, you name it; Sirius knows how he should respond to this. Hell, it’s on a fucking flash card.

His gut response, the thing Sirius is suddenly incredibly eager to do, is definitely not on a flash card.

However. But, but, and hear him out:

By fucking god, he was bored.

Greg had asked the same ten questions every other interviewer of the last year had asked with the same glint in his eyes as every other interviewer of the last year. Fame was great, but nobody told him it would be this goddamn boring. Repetitive. So many 'yes's and 'no's and 'wouldn't you like to know's.

So, Sirius proceeds, entirely disobeying those oh-so-holy flash cards.

“It would be an honour to give you the scoop, Greg, my dear,” Sirius says with a grin, shoving his hand into his back pocket.

The interviewer’s eyes light up over his mic.

“So-” When Sirius pulls out his phone, the glint is dimmed by confusion. “What-”

“Why don’t we ask him right now?”

There were strict rules about this, phones when live, phones during interviews, etcetera, etcetera, blah, blah. Sirius knew them all as well (see: a different set of flash cards). Sorry Gideon, Sirius thinks as he goes straight to his Favourites. He isn’t sorry.

“Ask… who?”

Sirius just winks. The call is already on its second ring.

On the fourth, Sirius is almost worried Remus won’t actually pick up, but not really. Remus always picks up.

Well, he always picks up when Sirius rings. Once, Marlene had called fifteen times in five minutes before Remus had responded two hours later with a ‘what?’ text. The man stuck true to his self-proclaimed Luddism, after all.

On the fifth ring Greg is looking sceptical. Sirius knows Remus is also working right now. He’d mentioned a meeting with some producer. He remains confident nonethless.

On the sixth ring, the call clicks as it is answered. A beat. And then:

“What?”

Remus sounds entirely unenthused to be answering a call at this moment, voice sullen. Sirius grins anyway, thrilled he’s picked up at all. As if he wouldn’t. As if he doesn’t always.

“And hello to you, too.”

“Aren’t you meant to be on that radio thing right now?”

��We are, in fact, live at this very moment.” Sirius glances back to Greg who, despite being the host, has immediately lost all of his perceived-control. He’s watching Sirius blankly, only vaguely piecing together the fact that it is famed, award winning, world’s greatest (not that Sirius is at all biassed) bass player Remus Lupin’s voice coming through Sirius’ phone. Sirius smirks amusedly at Greg before turning back to the conversation at hand. One that finally fucking matters. “Good to know you’re listening in and supporting me, as always.”

“Believe it or not, I have better things to do right now.”

“You wound me, Moons.”

That nickname did wonders on Twitter when it first became known, Sirius having slipped and referred to Remus as Moony in some other interview some other time. There's a ship name now. There are fanfictions. Sirius reads them aloud as dramatically as he can muster (which is, believe him, very) at the most inopportune times. Usually when Remus is busy, just to watch that cute little frown line in his forehead appear.

“Is there a point to you interrupting my work, and also national radio, with this call?”

“What if I just wanted to speak to you?”

“I will hang up right now.”

A lie. He never hangs up first.

Sirius sighs again, another exhausted thing. “They want to know if we’re dating.”

“Who?”

“They. Everyone. The world. Greg.”

Sirius shoots the host another look, whose look of momentary shock has dissolved into interest. Hunger. This is the scoop, apparently. Like the both of them, Sirius and Remus, haven’t already been asked this question to death.

“Greg?”

“Y’know, the guy with the grating voice on the station that plays the same five pop songs on repeat.” Gideon is going to kill him for that one. Sirius sends another silent apology he does not mean.

“Ah, Greg.”

Greg is frowning now. Sirius grins again.

“So? C’mon Moons, tell us. They’re all waiting eagerly. They want to know,” he repeats.

“They always want to know,” Remus replies bluntly.

“They’re in an extra persistent mood today.”

When Sirius cuts his third look at Greg, he has the audacity to look entirely unapologetic, as if Sirius’ public life as a model translates to that of his private life. As if it makes total sense to badger him for months—no, scratch that, years—on who Sirius is and isn’t fucking, and whether or not, god forbid, they aren’t a female.

“You can’t tell them yourself?” Remus’ voice distracts him from his angry spiral of thoughts.

He could, of course. He has, a million fucking times, given an answer. Sirius even has his flash cards, for fuck’s sake. But this is much more fun.

“Just answer the damn question, Lupin.”

“You didn’t ask a question, Black.”

Sirius rolls his eyes, incredibly aware this is dragging through the interview’s very minimal time slot. Good.

“Are we dating, Remus?” he asks seriously (ha).

A moment of silence. Sirius holds the phone closer to the mic, closer to his own ear. He can’t help himself, he wants to know how Moony will handle this as well. Then:

“Of course not, Sirius, we’ve been married for years.”

Greg’s eyes widen to saucers. Sirius keeps his face neutral, an impressive feat that would rival even Regulus’ own acting skills, if he says so himself, and Reg won a Tony last year.

“Ah, how could I forget?” Sirius says instead of breaking into the laughter that he so desperately wants to roll into a heap with. “My husband.”

“Truly, how could you? Should we consider divorce now?” Remus replies, voice as indistinguishably sullen as always. Sirius knows he’s smiling with his eyes, he can hear it.

“Now that would make the papers.”

“Certainly… Is that all?”

“Yes, yes, go do your music-y things now.”

Sirius can hear the eye roll as well. “Fine.”

Sirius hangs up. He tucks the phone back into his pocket, taking his time. Then, then, he looks back up at Greg. The interviewer is a picture of shock, maybe a touch of confusion; wide eyes, jaw loose with a mouth that hangs, equally wide.

“Well, Greg, how was that for a scoop?” Sirius raises a single, manicured eyebrow.

“Wa– Was he being serious?” the man all but splutters.

“What? No, of course not, I’m Sirius, silly.”

“That’s not–”

“Greg! I’m offended! Do you forget the names of all your guests? We’ve been talking for almost an hour now!”

The longest fucking hour of Sirius’ life, mind you. But the rest of it goes by much faster and much more pleasantly, as Greg struggles to move on from that little show. It makes the dressing down from Gid all the more worth it.

And by the time Sirius manages to check his phone again, emerging from hell (or Studio C, call it what you want) hours later, #wolfstar is already trending on Twitter. He screenshots it, sends it to Remus.

pads !!!!!!!!!

look what uve done u menace

MOONY ❤️‍🔥😍🌕

Fake news. Lily and I are planning to run away together, actually.

Sirius huffs a laugh. Sure, fake news.

#wolfstar #sirius black #remus lupin #fanfiction #writing #oneshot #wolfstar fanfiction #famous au #writing tag #fic: your ‘lectric eye on me

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that-one-banger-of-a-rhcp-song · 1 year

Note

A Rodrick x reader where they're friends with benefits and aren't aware of each others feelings towards the other util reader gets asked out by someone from their school :]

i started this one earlier and then the draft got deleted (this is why you dont take grilled cheese brakes kids) Thank you so much for the request, i have never written fwb before so i hope i meet your expectations :) (p.s. im a sucker for hand/knuckle kisses and it shows) lets just say greg and rowley weren't there for the party.

"Dammit Rodrick," you chuckled slightly, sitting on a desk.

"What?" The raven haired boy started, "Don't like doing this anymore?" His hot breath tickled against your neck.

"It's not that," you muttered, "I just, don't feel like making out in an empty classroom five minutes before lunch ends."

"Oh, 'cause you are so above that," he retorted, going back to his assault on your neck and jawline.

"I'm turning over a new leaf!" You leaned back slightly, humming.

"Proud of yourself?" his hand relocated to your waist, the other supporting his weight.

"I would say I'm more proud of you,"

"Oh?"

"You haven't gotten a detention in two days!" at that, the boy laughed, and removed his head from the crook of your neck.

'God I love you!' he wanted to say, but you seemed content with your current status, and he got to make out with you whenever he wanted... so he was fine! Totally.

"Has that Micha kid been bothering you?" The so called 'Micha kid' had been trying to hit on you for months, and you were to nice to tell him you secretly hated him, but you were working on it (thanks to Rodrick)

"Kind of? He tries to talk to me a lot, but he's less persistent."

"Good" he smiled, patting your waist before kissing you again.

You pulled away after a moment, "We should probably get our stuff," you commented, pulling him out of his blissful state.

"uh, yeah!" god he was so awkward sometimes. He held out his hand for you to take, (which you did) and you slid off the desk.

"You're such a gentleman!" you mocked in a brittish accent

"Oh, I know, love," he carried on.

-----------

'party at my house -rodrick' The text had been sent four minutes ago on the dot. Your parents were out of town, so you could go without being caught. So you fucking did. You put on a white button-down, black skinny jeans that were torn to shreds, and You put your earbuds in and started walking the block to the Heffley household. Your mind shifted to your previous interaction. How concerned Rodrick was being, he did care about you. and some times it felt like he loved you. you felt as if you could only dream.

---

You knocked on the door, the music was so loud already.

"Y/NNNN!" Rodrick dragged your name out, he took your hand and kissed your knuckles, "You do know this is casual, right?"

"Yes."

"Alright then. Get in here!" he pulled you in the house, there were lights, MCR's 'na na na" was blasting at full volume, and there were high-schoolers making out in random corners, someone had started a fistfight, and it seemed like it was more Rodrick's element than yours, but that was ok. And then you saw him.

Micha.

The boy who looked at you like a Piece of meat.

you grabbed Rodrick's sleeve, "Micha's here," You said desperately. He noted your concern, and looked around for the boy, "Hey," he said, grasping your arms, "It's gonna be fine! if he starts bothering you, just come find me and we can make out or some shit!" He looked you in the eyes and smiled, trying his hardest to reasure you.

"Thanks Rodrick," you said hugging him.

"Of course!"

-------

Rodrick had decided to be social, so you just wandered around the house, looking at the people you knew, and those you didn't. When you heard that terribly familiar voice.

"Hey y/n!"

Well fuck. you turned around, and sent a glare that could kill toward the boy.

"How's the party?" Micha said.

The sound of his voice made you want to yell. "Good." you said, not looking at him.

"I haven't talked to you in a while,"

"I know." you kept your answers short and half assed. Hoping he would get the memo.

He didn't.

Lucky for you, Rodrick had pardoned himself from his buddies chit chat, to make sure you were alright.

An arm looped around your shoulders, "Hi," the boy said "Uh, Micheal, was it?"

"Micha."

"Oh, sorry meesha,"

"That isn't even close to my name."

"Cool" you were never really religious, but you took the time to thank god for Rodrick. "Now, Mickey, can you not tell that you're making y/n uncomfortable?"

"I figured they would tell me if-"

"Micha, I don't like you." you said, voice laced with anger, "I never fucking have."

The boy just looked at you sadly and nodded before walking away.

"Rodrick, thank-" you were cut off by a rather agressive and passionate kiss.

"Y/n I love you. It's okay if you don't love me back but seeing you that uncomfortable made me want to tell you."

you could only stand there shocked. "I- Rodrick I" you stuttered, "I love you too. I always have and I really want to thank you for keeping me close!"

Just hearing those words made his heart melt and his confidence boost dramatically.

"I know this is my party, but" He tried, "Wanna blow this place?"

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #rodrick imagines #doawk rodrick

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widowbitessting · 4 months

Text

Flower Petals on the Floor

Word Count: 996

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Summary: All you wanted to do was surprise the Trio! at work. But the stupid security guard is set on ruining your plan.

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

(I swear I'm not an idiot. I got asks and I lost them. Can I find them? No. I remember it being along the lines of 'a security guard not letting Baby past' so nonnie I am sorry for losing your ask. Just label me stupid I guess. Again, it’s not the best thing I’ve written but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless)

xoxo

It was supposed to be a surprise.

A midweek visit as your classes were called off.

You’d even bought a small bouquet of flowers for each of them.

But would the stupid security man let you in?

No.

No matter what you tried to say, he just wasn’t having it.

“Listen! They know who I am, just let me up!”

“No. Your name isn’t on the list, meaning you can’t come in.” He tells you. “Now go and bug someone else.”

You glower at him, officially irriated.

“I am not bugging - how many times do I have to tell you? I’m their girlfriend!”

“That’s what they all say. I wasn’t born yesterday.”

“Listen boogers for brains, I don’t know who pissed in your coffee this morning; but I’m here to surprise my girlfriends ‘cos they’re stressed out of their minds and you’re sort of ruining it!”

“Heard it all before, love. Now beat it.”

He shoves you and you stumble back.

“Hey!”

“Get out of my building, doll face.”

“Who are you -”

“I will personally remove you if I have to. Leave.”

He tries to shove you again but you manage to scurry back.

You glare at him.

“Fine. Fine. I’m going. There’s no need to push me. God.”

You stomp out of the reception area and back out the pristine glass doors, where the horrible weather is waiting to soak you.

“Fucking stupid…butt face.”

You stop as the door swings shut behind you and pull your phone out of your pocket; texting the Trio.

Y/N (13:14): Hypothetically…if I was trying to get into your building…what would I need to do?

Carol (13:14): Well hello to you too, cutie.

Carol (13:14): We’d have to put you on the OK list; get you a Visitor ID sorted and so on. Why?

You groan.

Why is nothing ever simple?

Y/N (13:15): No reason

Wanda (13:15): Are you downstairs, baby?

Y/N (13:16): Maybe…? I’m outside…

Natasha (13:15): Go back inside love, we’ll be there in a minute❤️

You quickly do as you’re told, rushing back into the warmth of the building.

Only, you’re met with the same security man as before.

He’s glaring at you.

“Listen love, if you wanted to be handcuffed this badly, all you had to do was ask.”

“What?”

He throws your flowers to the ground and spins you around so fast that you don’t even have the time to make a sarcastic comment.

The cold bite of his handcuffs snag at your skin.

“Listen -”

“No, you listen to me, I’ve had enough of your shit. You’re in detainment until the cops get here, is that understood?”

“Cops? But wait -”

“Save it.”

This has to be the most mortifying ordeal of your life.

Everyone in the open reception space is looking at you and you really don’t know what to do.

And to make it worse, your left shoe keeps squeaking.

“I can’t - I can’t go to jail!”

“Should have thought of that sooner, love.”

He moves you so easily that you make the mental note to start going to the gym.

Dragging you towards the turnstiles.

He scans his ID and pushes you through.

Taking you towards the back door when -

“Greg, any reason you’ve got our girlfriend by the wrists?” Natasha’s voice has you both stopping and you just want to sob in relief.

She glares at the man holding you, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh thank god.” You mutter.

“Yeah, that’s kind of our job.” Carol adds.

“Told you I wasn’t lying.” You glare back at him.

“I was just -”

“Being disrespectful to someone who we care about.” Natasha buts in. “Forget being professional, you were being downright rude. Uncuff her. Right now.”

“Yes, ma’am. Sorry ma’am.”

He lets you go and you quickly move to stand closer to your women; Wanda’s hand quickly finds your waist and holds you close.

“Do you do this to all the visitors that aren’t on the all clear?” Carol asks, putting her hands into her pant pockets.

If things hadn’t been so disastrous, you’d have found it incredibly hot.

…Maybe you still do…

“I - no. I…”

“Go on. We’re waiting.” Wanda snaps.

“I was told to make sure no one got in if they’re not on the all clear.”

“And how do we ensure people do get on the all clear?” Natasha asks, as if she’s speaking to a 1 year old,

“Having one of the reception team buzz up to Kate…”

“And did you do that?” Wanda asks.

“No…”

“Why not?” Says Carol.

“…she…she was testing my patience!”

“And the reasonable thing to do was handcuff our girlfriend and cause a scene?”

“I was handling it accordingly.”

“He hurt my arms.” You pout and nestle into Wanda, hiding your smile.

“I think we should have a little chat, Greg, don’t you think? Bring in the Head of Security too?”

The man visibly pales.

“I think that sounds wonderful.” Natasha adds on. “You’re dismissed. We’ll contact you later when we’re ready.”

And just like that, he’s gone. Practically vanishing in thin air.

“Are you okay, my love?” Carol asks, looking you over and inspecting your wrists. She clocks the red marks where the handcuffs were too tight.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Natasha growls, pulling you in for a tight hug. “My poor girl.”

“We’re gonna put you on the clearance list and get you an ID sorted.” Wanda says. “So you can come straight up next time.”

“Okay.” You pout. “I brought you flowers but he…” You point to the flowers littered on the floor.

“Aw, baby girl.” Natasha sighs. “We appreciate the gesture. C’mon. Wanna come see where we work?”

You nod.

Natasha takes your hand and leads you to the elevators.

They open almost as soon as you get there and the four of you walk inside.

Carol presses their floor and you grin up at her.

Until she asks:

“Baby girl. Where’s your coat?”

#natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #carol danvers #reader insert #sugar mommies #natasha x wanda x carol x reader #sugar mommies!asks #spiderbites #smu #little liv writes!#smu universe #sugar mommies drabble

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 6 months

Text

Imagine trying to warn Sherlock that Moriarty is free…

The verdict was in - not guilty. You honestly wanted to shake the jury by their shoulders and ask why they had left their rational thoughts at home. The judge slammed the gavel, signalling for Moriarty to be free of his bonds and when you looked at the man, you could have sworn that he winked.

John nudged your arm, reminding you that it was time to follow the rest of the courtroom out. Once the pair of you were out on the street in much cleaner air, John pulled out his phone and began punching in a number.

“I’m calling Sherlock. He needs to know that this maniac is going to be walking about like a free man.”

Giving him a nod, you pulled out your own device. “I’m going to head back to Scotland Yard.”

John instantly pulled his phone away from his ear as it started to ring.

“What? Y/n we need to stay together.”

“I know but I need to set up a protective detail on Sherlock and Baker Street. Moriarty doesn’t care about collateral damage.” You reminded the good doctor.

Pointing at you, John’s expression was stern and serious. “Okay but be careful. I’ll see you back at the apartment.”

You gave the man a brief hug before turning and bolting down the street to hail a cab. Thankfully, the area was crawling with the vehicle you required. Once you had hopped in, you dialled Lestrade’s personal number and hoped with each ring that he wasn’t otherwise engaged. Your heart was pounding in your ears, the traffic felt slower than normal and the phone wasn’t being picked up as if the matter wasn’t of import.

“Come on.” You edged nervously, staring outside at the pedestrians huddled on the sidewalk.

When the signal turned green, the call was answered by the man you had been trying to reach. “Greg? Oh, thank god.”

“Y/n, I just heard the news. How are you holding up?” The detective inspector asked.

“Honestly I’m pissed but we can get into that later. Listen, I need a favour. I need a-“

“You need a protection detail on Sherlock, I know.” Lestrade guessed correctly. “I filed in the paperwork as soon as Moriarty’s trial started and got it fast tracked. It felt appropriate since you, Sherlock and John have thwart his schemes the most.”

You frowned. Something didn’t feel right about the way he was talking about the detail. “And?” You prompted.

“And it got rejected as soon as Moriarty was acquitted.”

You were mad and disappointed - in all honesty, you wanted to scream. But you pushed it all down and did what you could to tackle the problem. Leaning forward, you tapped the driver on the glass to get his attention.

“Yes, dear?” The elderly man smiled.

“Change of plans - take me to 221B Baker Street please.”

“Y/n, what are you doing?” Shit, you almost forgot Lestrade was on the phone.

As the car turned left onto Baker Street, you kept a tight grip on the device. “If Scotland Yard won’t help, I’ll do it myself.” You told your friend before hanging up just as the taxi pulled up to the curb.

Paying for the ride, you made a mad dash to the front door, pushing it open to get inside. It was mostly quiet. Mrs Hudson was running the cafe and it was clear that John wasn’t home from the lack of his coat from the hallway rack.

There was an absence of people and yet you heard teacups being set upon saucers and very low voices speaking. Heart leaping into your throat, you raced up the stairs and burst into the open flat of 221B.

“Sherlock-”

The rest of your sentence died on your tongue, ice running through your veins when you saw the man who had almost killed you and your friends without any remorse standing in the living room.

“Hi Y/n.” Moriarty greet when his eyes laid on you. “I take it that your little bid for a protection detail fell flat?”

He knew and he was mocking you for it. Stepping into the flat, you scowled at the enemy. “I’ve kept my friends safe from you before. I can do it again.”

Moriarty smirked. He moved away from Sherlock and across to you on his way to the door. His eyes skimmed over your features before he inhaled.

“You’re just delectable. Ready to give your life for a man who isn’t ready to return the favour. A pity really.” He commented and walked off.

~ More imagines here ~

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #sherlock imagine #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock holmes imagine #bbc sherlock holmes x reader #moriarty imagine #moriarty x reader

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