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wellreadredhead · 2 years
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children's authors are better than everyone actually
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kayokojiro · 1 year
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bringing this back for women’s day this year
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lexiswriter · 1 year
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i feel like the most unrealistic thing about diary of a wimpy kid is how nobody had a fat crush on rodrick.
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fbfh · 7 months
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makey makeover - rodrick x hyperfeminine reader
wc: 1.5k
pairing: rodrick x gn hyperfeminine!reader
warnings: rodrick isn't used to being taken care of but only briefly mentioned at the end, rodrick does not know what hyaluronic acid is
summary: rodrick can never say no to you, but if it means having you straddle his lap while you use all your skincare products on him and listen to music together, he wouldn't want to say no anyway.
song recs: makey makeover - crazy ex girlfriend cast, jesus of suburbia - green day, perfect day - hoku
a/n: I started writing a kids book yesterday?? like I finished the first chapter and outline in one sitting???? it wasn't at all planned but when the muse strikes yk. Anyway I don't think it will take me as long to write so if you wanna read a chapter book about magic and girlhood and unicorns and other mythical creatures with bella sara vibes that's probs gonna be ready reasonably soon lol
tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @Maggzsworld @xiaos_crustytoenails @ionlymadethisaccountbcihadto @strawberryjen124 @Isaentremundos @hxnbah
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Rodrick likes to think he's a pretty tough guy. Between being born and raised on the rebellious messages of pop punk music, and the nonconforming ideologies of emo and other alt subcultures, Rodrick knows in his bones that he'll never let the man break his spirit. He'll never bow down to someone just because they want him to do something. He's had countless opportunities to stand by these beliefs at school and at home, and he has never - not once - come close to doing anything for someone simply because they want him to. Rodrick has been confident in his ability to never give into other people’s orders, no matter how much they demand of him. 
Until now.
“Pretty please, Roddy…?” You pout your glossy lips at him, blinking up at him and batting your doll like eyelashes, and that’s all it takes to make him fold.
“...I guess, if you really-” He’s cut off by an excited squeal from you, and he’s glad that you’re too distracted to notice him blush. Rodrick has never felt his willpower give in so fast, but as he watches you rush around your room and smile, delighted that he’d agreed, he realizes that he’d do pretty much anything you tell him too. Ben and Chris would call him a pussywhipped simp, but… no, that’s pretty much it. He chuckles a little at the thought, watching the pile of stuff grow. He recognizes nail polish and tweezers, but that’s about it.
“Thank you thank you thank you!” You say, rambling happily as you settle down on your bed across from him. “I’ve been wanting to do self care stuff but I’ve done so many everything showers and self care nights there’s nothing left for me to do on myself. But you…”
You take his face in your manicured hands, moving him around to inspect more closely.
“You are in serious need of a facial.”
Rodrick doesn’t really process what you’re saying, he just loves when you touch his face like that. 
“...Uh, yeah totally.” He mutters absentmindedly, distracted by your sweet smell. After a moment, he processes what you said, and chuckles, leaning back into your silky pink pillows. “Babe, you can do anything to me, anywhere, anytime.” 
You giggle, feeling your face flush a little as you get all your stuff organized. Rodrick runs his hands up and down your waist, fidgeting with your soft fluffy pajama shorts and big loded diper shirt you wear all the time. He sees the little burn marks and worn out hems and realizes it’s the one you stole from him. He smiles softly, loving the way you look in it even more now. His attention is pulled back to you when you push something over his face, brushing his hair back. You adjust the fluffy cat ears on the headband, making sure you have access to his whole face. Rodrick giggles a little, knowing he must look a little out of place wearing a pierce the veil shirt and fluffy kitty cat headband. 
“I don’t think my forehead has been this exposed since like, 4th grade…” he chuckles.
“That’s good, you’ll have less sun damage that way.” You smile, putting some micellar water on a cotton pad. It’s a little cold to the touch, but after a moment, the feeling of you gently wiping over his face and neck ends up being way more relaxing than he had expected it to. You throw it away, and he hears it land in your trash can with a crinkle. 
“I’m gonna mist your face now, okay?” You say, and he nods. You spray rose water on his face, and Rodrick can’t get over how considerate you are to give him a heads up like that. Rodrick smiles a little as he adjusts to the subtle floral smelling facial spray he’s used to smelling on you. He basks in the quietness of your room, opening his eyes as he watches you sitting on his stomach and looking for the next product. You hesitate for a moment. You feel like something’s missing, but you can’t put your finger on it.
“Oh,” you say, reaching for your phone as you remember. You open up Spotify, and put your favorite playlist on shuffle - the one you and Roddy share. It’s full of both your favorite songs, mostly boiling down to early 2000’s pop punk and trashy pop. It’s chaotic but really does suit you both perfectly.  Rodrick smiles suddenly as he instantly recognizes the opening notes of Jesus of Suburbia begin to play. You take out your favorite serum, jasmine and blackberry hydrating jelly, and place a few drops around his face. 
“What’s that one?” Rodrick asks, picking up another bottle. 
“Hyaluronic acid.”
Rodrick looks at the little dropper bottle.
“Does it, like, melt the flesh right off your bones?” 
“No…?” You chuckle, massaging his cheekbones and jawline with your fingertips.
“Then why is it called hydroponic acid?” He asks rhetorically, “Acid is supposed to melt shit.”
You laugh again, and he makes a mental note to sample your laughter for a song at some point in the future. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he knows it will be his best one yet. 
You rub some cooling aloe vera gel into his skin, then take out your rose quartz gua sha stone. You tap your fingertips against his chest, and he looks at you with an amused smile.
“What does that do?”
He watches you work, eyes locked on you. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and peaceful. 
“I’m prepping your lymphatic drainage system.” 
That clarified absolutely nothing for Rodrick, but he trusts you implicitly. You’re so good at so many things, but Christ, you could write a book on all that girly beauty stuff. It’s way more hardcore than people think it is. You know about all these acids and drainage systems and the pink rock thing, and even though he’s impressed, he’s not at all surprised by how good you are at all this stuff.
You begin gently gliding your gua sha over Roddy’s skin, working from his forehead down to his neck and jawline. He stops talking as you work, and it’s like you melt all of the stress out of his body through his face. He could fall asleep with you touching him so gently like this. After a while you rub some more cream into his face, then place something under his eyes that feels like thinly sliced jello.
“What the fuck?” He asks, bringing another laugh out of you. He watches you take two more of the weird jelly things and put them under your own eyes.
“They’re under eye masks.” You answer with a chuckle. “They hydrate your skin, depuff, and get rid of dark circles.”
“Huh…” he hums in response, playing with the patches as they sit on his face. 
Once you’ve used half your arsenal of skincare products on him, you peel off his sheet mask and let him sit up. You hand him a mirror, and as he sits up and stretches a little, kind of wishing you had more to do, he feels like he just woke up from the best sleep of his life. 
“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly. He can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are. Rodrick takes the mirror you offer him. When he sees his reflection, he almost doesn’t recognize himself. 
“Oh my god…” he says with a soft smile. He’s glowing. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this soft and moisturized and… cared for before. He doesn’t even have any crusty eyeliner from yesterday smudged around his eyes. He can never get it off all the way, but one wave of your magic wand, and it’s gone. He laughs again, touching his cheek. He looks up at you in surprise.
“My face is so smooth…” “I know!” You exclaim in delight. “So, do you like facials after all?”
You have a feeling you already know the answer, but Rodrick looks up at you anyway.
“Yeah,” he states, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips soft and exfoliated, topped with your favorite strawberry lip balm. You think Rodrick is right, it does taste better in a kiss. After he pulls away, it takes him a minute for his brain to stop short circuiting. 
“So… uh, are we doing this again next weekend?” 
You laugh at his hopeful tone of voice, how he raises his eyebrows a little. 
“Yeah.” You nod, taking him in for another kiss. You take his hands in yours, looking at the stick and poke tattoo he got of the heart you drew on his hand in chemistry class, his little calluses from drumming. “Next week I can do something about your cuticles.”
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ggrna · 7 months
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jeff kinney i’m your biggest fan
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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!
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eggwishing · 11 months
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bruh
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my favorite part of saw 6 is when rodrick heffley kills that guy
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reareaotaku · 3 months
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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
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"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.
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static-scribblez · 4 months
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Remember these two?
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This is them now. Feel old yet?
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strawberoni · 6 months
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also have this silly little shitpost i made
behold…
GREG💡RI !!!
what if i actually make this into an AU tho… WE’LL SEE!!!
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90oznihilists · 7 months
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That broken hand was the best thing that ever happened to you
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aziawow · 7 months
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being in love sucks (rodrick heffley x f!reader) 2.9k words
summary: you're in love with your best friend, but all he can talk about is heather hills.
warnings: language, discussions of loss of virginity of a minor (17), brief self sexualization
notes: she/her pronouns, no use of y/n. reblogs, comments, and likes appreciated! interact with me!
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You’ve been friends with Rodrick your entire life. There isn’t a time you can’t remember without him being there. Your parents are lifelong friends and it was only natural that they raised you two together. There’s hundreds of pictures of you both in matching onesies, in the bath, at playdates, in your Halloween costumes, every first day of school, and so much more.
Your lives are so intertwined and have been from the very beginning that it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Out of everyone, you and Rodrick knew each other the best because you spent every second together and talked about anything and everything. Sometimes, you didn’t even need to do that to know.
You knew everything about each other.
Mostly everything, at least.
See, there was this thing. This one thing you kept secret from Rodrick for years. The longest you’ve ever kept a secret from him. The secret that could destroy your friendship of almost 18 years.
You’ve known Rodrick all your life and have been in love with him for half of it.
You’re not sure when the “love” part happened, but it hit you suddenly and all at once one day when you were 13.
Rodrick was doing something stupid and Rodrick-like, making you laugh and laugh and laugh until your insides hurt. When you settled down you looked at him. That’s all it took. Just one look. His eyes were dark and shining, a light you’d give everything to see on his face for as long as possible. You noticed his mouth, the way his big, pouty lips curved in the aftermath of a smile. And you knew.
You were totally gone for this boy.
You didn’t want to be the typical girl who fell in love with her boy best friend, but that’s what happened.
You weren’t immune to him and his charm, and no matter how much they pretend otherwise, neither were other girls you went to school with or random ones you saw in gas station lines late at night. Girls either liked him or they didn’t, and you felt like baring your teeth at everyone who crushed on him or flirted with him because jealousy isn’t a feeling you are exempt from, their infatuation is always brief, and they don’t know him—and never will—like you do.
At the same time, you wanted to wax poetic about Rodrick to those who thought he was a weird emo loser who would never get anywhere in life because they couldn’t be more wrong, and how could they not see the amazing guy right in front of them for who he is?
But you kept quiet. You silenced all the contrasting, confusing, and utterly stupid thoughts in your head and tried to move on.
You tried dating, never stuck with a guy for too long because either they hated Rodrick or Rodrick hated them. “You deserve the best kind of love, and he’s not it,” he’d say. And you’d think, “fuck” because he makes it so goddamn difficult not to love him. But he’s not an option, so forward you continue.
You had your firsts, and so did he, and the aches kept coming.
When you lost your virginity a few months ago (a stupid decision with someone you connected with in your history class just to get it over with) he grew quiet. Scarily, worryingly so. He asked a few questions—who was it, how far did you go, did he wear a condom, did you enjoy it, are you going to see him again? You answered his questions tentatively, not liking this mood shift.
The atmosphere in his room where you were (previously studying) was cold and tense, and you hesitated on your answer when he asked if it hurt. This was uncharted territory—how would he react to the truth? But because you promised to only save one secret for yourself, you told him the truth. When it came to Rodrick, lying was never easy.
It did hurt. At first anyway, and it took you a while to adjust to it. There was pain and pleasure and the guy was kind and gentle with you, and after you couldn’t walk for a good while. You were still sore during this conversation.
He was still quiet, though there was a spark of anger behind his eyes. He tried to hide it, but you know him too well for that. He got up and left the room for a few minutes. When he came back, he brought an ice pack, a towel, an extra pillow, and a bottle of ibuprofen. He gave it to you, face burning, and your heart skipped several beats as you were reminded of how sweet he can be.
You never discussed it again, and it’s like that day never happened. No hesitancy, no awkwardness. Just you and Rodrick. Best friends forever.
Now though, his newest obsession was getting on your nerves.
Heather Hills. Heather fucking Hills.
What were you compared to this beautiful prom queen that had Rodrick practically eating out of the palm of her hand? She’s everything Rodrick wants, and what else could you do about that? You tried being supportive of his crush (thinking of Heather being the love of his life made the ache grow stronger, so you chose not to think about it) but it was hard when Heather made it perfectly clear what she thought about Rodrick. But your sweet, naive, lovestruck best friend was too blinded by her shiny blonde hair and skin tight clothes to see the truth.
It was really annoying. Seriously. You’re not narcissistic, but your hair is fucking amazing even on bad days and you’ve been know to rock form fitting and revealing clothes from time to time. You had enough respect for yourself to dress how you like and not for boys, especially for Rodrick, but it would be nice if he noticed you for once.
Like, you didn’t custom make Löded Diper merch on a tight crop top that showed off your asset really well because you love the mispelt words for what happens when babies defecate displayed on your chest. You’re really supportive and just a bit hormonal, okay? Totally normal.
The thing is, you can deal with it when he says he made out with some girl under the bleachers or got a number from someone in his bio class (“How, Rodrick, you don’t even take biology!”) because they mean nothing to him. Just a one off to relieve stress.
Except, Heather Hills? This crush wasn’t going away anytime soon and you struggled to be okay with it.
Currently, you’re in his room, listening to an album of the latest indie band he found when he brought her up yet again. Just as you were really starting to get into the band, too.
“She is so beautiful, don’t you think?” You refuse, refuse, to glance over at him because if you saw the stars in his eyes you’re sure you’d throw up all over the clean laundry Susan had brought up for him a bit ago. You think, slightly vindictive, that at least she stopped folding his clothes for him and that he’s gonna lose his mind with that task later.
You “uh-huh” at him noncommittally and try to listen to the music.
He sighs, disgusting and dream-like. “Like, I know she wears makeup, and I’ve never seen her without it, but I just know her natural face is just as beautiful. Maybe even better. Definitely better, right?”
Jesus Christ.
You hum again.
“She always wears lip gloss, though. It makes her lips so glittery. I wonder what flavor it is. Cherry? Watermelon? Strawberry? I hope it’s strawberry.” You roll your eyes knowing he can’t see but hold in a sigh. You’ve been wearing strawberry lip gloss since you were, like, 10, which he would've known if ever paid any attention to your lips. “God, I want to kiss it off so bad,” he whines, and that, for some reason over all the others, is what breaks you.
“I have to go home,” you blurt and roll off his bed. You reach over to the music player, pop out the CD, and secure it in the case before stuffing it in your bag. You were gonna go home, enjoy the album, and maybe (probably) ((definitely)) have a good cry. What you were not going to do is sit there and listen to the boy you’re in love with declare it oh so passionately for another girl.
“Wait, what?” he asks, shooting to his feet. You make quick work of gathering your stuff and sliding on your shoes, ignoring him.
He follows you out his door and down the stairs, grabbing at you and asking you to slow down. You brush him off and repeat your excuse.
“Hey, wait. C’mon, what’s wrong? You're just gonna take my CD and dip?” He genuinely sounds upset, and you hate that it’s your fault, but you have to look after yourself.
“Yes,” you hiss, and you hear him make a sound so wounded and entirely unlike him that you stop just before reaching for the handle of the front door. You turn and face him, dying a little when you see his wet, confused eyes.
You try to say something, but Susan’s voice cuts in.
“Oh no, are you leaving? I just finished dinner! It’s barbeque chicken wings,” she sing-songs, and shit, it’s your favorite meal that Susan makes. It might even be your favorite meal ever. It has been since you were little and you and Rodrick had a food fight with the sauce. You got in so much trouble, but you wouldn’t give that memory for anything.
It was your favorite and Susan knew that. Rodrick knows that. Even Greg, who you had a good relationship with because you don’t tolerate Rodrick bullying him, and Frank, who couldn't be assed to pay attention to his sons unless they fucked up, knows it’s your favorite. It’s your favorite, but…
“I’m sorry, I have to go home. Next time, though,” you add after seeing the shock on their faces.
“What is wrong with you?”
“Rodrick!” Susan scolds.
“One minute we’re fine then the next you don’t want to be around me,” and no, your heart does not break a little more hearing the crack in his voice, absolutely not. “I’m so lost. What’s wrong?”
Something in you snaps. It’s the something holding back the secret you’ve kept from him for years and all the other tiny secrets buried within that one. It’s the something in you that aches, and you just want it to stop.
“You are!” You practically yell at him. Now it’s out, everything else escapes too, whether you want it too or not. “Heather Hills is! You can’t go five minutes without bringing her up! It’s actually kind of pathetic how gone on her you are. She won’t give you the time of day no matter how hard you try. She doesn’t care about you or your music and she thinks you’re a loser and you know that but you’ve successfully deluded yourself into thinking she sees you as anything more than a walking Hot Topic advertisement. That is, if she even knows you exist.”
The look on Rodrick’s face as you rant turns to shock then to a kind of sadness you’ve never seen on him before. You see in real time as you break his heart, but he broke yours first, so the pain between you is shared like everything else.
He tries to speak but you cut him off. “I know you exist. I care about you and your passions. I am probably one of the only people in this world who believes in your dream of having a music career and supports it.”
“What does that have to do with Heather?” he asks, and you want to scream.
“You once told me that I deserve the best kind of love, do you remember that?” He nods. “So do you. That is something I believe in strongly, and I can’t pretend Heather is what you deserve. She doesn’t know you, she doesn’t see you. I’m not going to go on feeding into this fantasy you have because I can’t watch this thing you have with her anymore.”
He opens and closes his mouth a few times, looking frustratingly cute as he does so. He shakes his head.
“I don’t understand. Why can’t you watch?”
“Because it hurts, Rodrick! It hurts me and I can’t stop it.” You sigh and tear your gaze away from him. You think back on your shared past, the jokes, the situations, the good, the bad. Every memory pours in, and you know you ruined what was left of forever. Tears spring to your eyes.
“I can’t do this,” you say quietly, “I really can’t.”
Rodrick stays frozen in place as you open the door and leave. He stands there even after you’re gone.
“Wow,” says an irritating voice next to him. “You’re an idiot.”
“Greg! Don’t talk about your brother like that, he’s clearly going through something!” Rodrick, who can’t feel much of anything right now, feels a smidge grateful for his scolding mother. Until— “Except, Rodrick, honey. You are being a little bit of an idiot.”
He whirls around, hope for everything completely gone.
“What are you talking about?” he asks, and when the only response he gets is his mom and Greg sharing a look with a meaning Rodrick can’t define, he loses it.
“What just happened? What does she mean ‘I can’t do this’ and why did she bring up Heather a million times? She refused barbeque chicken! She loves barbecue chicken! What is with that!?” he sits at the table and groans. “I’m so confused. Nothing in this world makes sense.”
“Oh my god, Rodrick, are you serious? I know you’re kinda dumb but you can't seriously be that oblivious,” Greg says.
“What,” Rodrick bites.
“I’m gonna tell you this, not because you’re my brother and I love you, but because the best thing about your life just walked out that door and I don’t want to risk her never coming back.”
“Tell me what,” Rodrick grounds out.
Greg sighs, very much put upon and done with stupid teenagers. “Dude, she’s in love with you.”
Rodrick stops. His whole world comes to a standstill. He can’t think, he can’t breathe, he can't be. That’s not true, right? His little brother is just yanking his chain. Pay back for when Rodrick let Greg believe he used his toothbrush to scrub the toilet bowl last week. Just a prank. A joke.
Right?
Because if it’s not…
“How do you know that?” he asks, and hates how small his voice is.
“How do you not?” Greg retorts.
The rest of dinner is spent in silence, only broken occasionally by Manny, but Rodrick doesn't even make it halfway through. He’s too busy thinking about you and what to do. He sat with his thoughts and absentmindedly started to eat a piece of chicken, but found he couldn’t even take a bite without every memory you two shared filling his every sense. He abruptly leaves the table and suspects the only his mom let him skip family dinner is because he had a great fucking excuse.
This, to him, is life changing news. The most important news he’s ever gotten and will probably ever get. This is something he has to consider, and consider very seriously or he’s screwed forever. The decision is so easy to make.
You're in love with him.
Him, though? Christ, of course he loves you back. How can he not? Heather is whatever, a distraction, something fun, but you? You’re his whole world, you’re forever.
Time to get his girl.
***
There’s a tiny clink at your window. You thought you imagined it at first but it happened again. And again. And again. It kept happening until—
“Rodrick!” You whispered-shout, half hanging out your window. You’re on the first floor, and right in his face. Whoops. “Knock it off, you’ll wake my parents up!”
“Sorry!” he whisper-shouts back. He takes in what you look like, rumpled clothes, red eyes, and tear stained cheeks. “Hey, have you been crying?” He decides fuck it, and leans close to you and takes your face in his hands. He’s gentle, so you let him. Distantly, he can hear the stolen CD playing behind you.
He wipes away the tears and crust, and when he’s done, he brings your foreheads together. You close your eyes.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for not seeing it before,” he apologies softly.
You let out a gentle huff. “The only secret I’ve ever kept from you,” you admit. He chuckles lightly, you can feel his breath on your skin and you shiver. Your heart beat is wild, always wild around him. But there’s a sense of calm and peace between you two now, and you don’t feel nervous. With him, you feel safe and content, even now after everything.
He pulls back and you open your eyes.
“God,” he says, breathless. “I’m so fucking in love with you.”
And the way he looks at you right now, in this moment, tells you everything you need to know. He never looked at Heather like this, not at any girl except you. He would never lie to you. Hope and love and longing soar through your entire body.
Your eyes are wet and your heart is full. “I love you too.”
When you kiss, it’s everything.
He pulls back abruptly, eyes wide. “Strawberry?” he asks, voice in awe.
“Shut up,” you say, and pull him in for another kiss.
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jessanartist · 10 months
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fbfh · 9 months
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rodrick x hyperfeminine hcs pt 3: changes: the big prom: the sex romp: the season finale
wc: 2.2k
genre: angst and fluff, teenage dream
pairing: rodrick x hyperfeminine!reader
warnings: roddy has low self esteem, madison and heather are not good friends prom trope, happy ending
summary: you and rodrick are both planning on ditching prom because if you can't go with each other, you don't want to go at all. fate has other plans, and rodrick thinks maybe prom isn't that overrated after all.
song recs: teenage dirtbag - wheatus, wasting love - iron maiden
a/n: LAST PART IN THE RODDY X HYPERFEM ARC!!! send me roddy asks bc this boy deserves more love. also if you get the clone high reference in the title I love you
(optionally) the iconic dress
tags @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @marveldemigod17 @celootaku1 @stay-to-reblog @whos-mixxie @mikulovingtrash @inthemindofaweirdo @b0nes-phobic @myymmeloo @wanderlustingcastaway @debbi3-debaser @lubunnii @imaybewrongbutidoubtit @cloverhasnobrain @bessonasa @strangelysamantha @1-800-starkindustrie @brookeskitty @1ummcalhoody6 @always1s4youbitch-blog @citri-koi @vincentluvr444 @brunnetteiwik @melllinaa @reeces-pieses @mentamaree @jasontodd-artemisgrace4life @jinniy
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You’ve spent the last few weeks throwing yourself into the project of planning Heather and Madison’s prom outfits 
And hair
And makeup
And accessories
But that all comes with the territory of getting ready for prom
Once you decided to put them in soft pastels and flowy floaty ball gown dresses, word got out pretty quickly that that was the look for prom season in plainview
Everyone was getting the poofiest, softest dresses they could get their hands on
Soon selkie dresses and all their knock offs were sold out everywhere
Even white and pastel suits and tuxedos were selling like hotcakes 
Heather and Madison keep asking about your dress, but you don’t have the heart to tell them you don’t have one yet
Because you don’t plan on going
If you can’t go with Rodrick you don’t want to go at all
You don’t want Heather and Madison to be disappointed, so you haven’t told them that your real plans for prom night are to stay at home in your cozy pink pajamas and watch romantic comedies while you throw chocolates at the screen like a heartbroken Elle Woods
Rodrick has similar plans to blow off prom night
With less romcoms and pedicures, but he still has no intention of going
He managed to score Iron Maiden tickets for the friday after prom for him and the guys
Even though Ward is probably going to flake on them so he can spend the weekend with his girlfriend
Her parents are out of town then, so none of them can blame him
Rodrick’s been going out of his way to throw out every flier and leaflet about prom that gets sent to their house before his mom can see it
And it’s been going fine 
Until Greg decides to be a little asshole and get revenge for a harmless prank Rodrick pulled on him
Sure, Greg’s skin was stained blue for the rest of the week
But still
That doesn’t warrant showing their mom all the prom flyers and convincing her that Rodrick can’t possibly miss out on this developmental milestone 
Rodrick was desperate not to go
And he almost got away with it
But before he knows it, it’s prom night and his mom barges into his room with the flier insisting he goes
Rodrick tries everything he can think of to change her mind
“Mom, I don’t have anything to wear.”
She digs through his closet and holds up the only clean shirt and tie in his closet, giving him a look in response
“I don’t have a ride.”
“You can take your van.”
“I don’t have a date!”
That one gets him a 10 minute lecture about building character and planning ahead
“And I’m sure if you ask nicely there will be some girl who will dance with you. To real music, not that… screaming and thrashing and noise you’re always playing.” Susan says, pausing the spotify playlist he’d been blasting
Rodrick rolls his eyes at how out of touch she is
Everyone at school thinks he’s some loser punk
And now he’s going to show up late to prom with no date??
He’s glad prom is only for seniors, because he would never be able to live this down otherwise
Maybe it won’t be too bad
He can just sit in the parking lot and blast Green Day until it’s time to leave
“And don’t you think you can just go somewhere else, or hide in your van. You know my friend Linda?”
Susan doesn’t wait for Rodrick to answer
“Well, she’s a chaperone, and she’ll tell me if you’re not there. Okay? This is for your own good, Rodrick.” 
Fuck
Well, that idea’s out
“Fine, I’ll go…” Rodrick agrees, reluctantly giving in
Susan is delighted
She starts to leave so he can get changed, but he stops her before she can
“Can I borrow your eyeliner?”
A little while later, he’s sitting in his van in the school parking lot
He was already wearing black converse and ripped black jeans, so he just had to throw on the black button up and red tie his mom found
His hair was perfectly messed up from the nap he was startled awake from when his mom barged in
He shoves his headphones in his pocket, and after putting it off for as long as he can, he gets out and closes the door
Maybe it won’t be so bad
Maybe there will be some live music that’s actually decent
Ward and his girlfriend are already there, so maybe they’ll take pity on him and let him third wheel for a while so he doesn’t feel like such a total loser
He opens the doors to the gym, and is met with a hellscape of fluffy pastels and cutesy radio pop
Even the guys are in white and soft shades of blue and green and yellow
He feels like he’s going to throw up
He's in hell
This is what hell looks like
Among the hellscape of fluffy pastel tulle, Heather and Madison text you in a fit, wondering where the hell you are
You’re missing prom for god’s sake
You text them back the same thing you’ve been telling them all night
You’re running late, you’re having wardrobe malfunctions, but have fun and you’ll be there soon
When their dates leave to get them drinks, Madison sees someone sulking at a table
It’s Rodrick Heffley
She subtly takes a picture of him from across the room and texts Madison
🚨HEFFLEY ALERT🚨
He looks fucking pathetic lmao
Like how sad can u get lskjsldkfjd
Heather responds, laughing at what a loser he is
Only Madison didn’t just text Heather
She texted the group chat with Heather, her, and you
Your phone starts blowing up with more texts from Heather and Madison
You finally check their texts, assuming it’ll be more of the same
Your heart drops when you see a picture of Rodrick sitting alone at a table
“He couldn’t even get a date?? How pathetic 💀”
Your stomach sinks as you feel your heart break for Rodrick
He doesn’t deserve this
And neither do you
Rodrick should get to enjoy his prom
And you should get to have at least one chance with him
You have to see him
You have to crash prom and tell him you’ve been crazy about him since the moment you saw him
You have to ask him to dance with you
You have to try
Realizing how much you have to do in such a short amount of time, you throw yourself out of bed
You dig through your closet until you find your sweet 16 dress
It’s not at all on brand with the unofficial theme for prom, but it will have to do
You grab shoes and some matching jewelry and get dressed in a hurry
After throwing on the slinky, glittering, hot pink evening gown, you put on a pair of matching marabou heels
Your earrings and choker accent your glittering dress, and the high slit in the floor length skirt shows off your shoes perfectly
You finish pulling yourself together and rush out the door to get to prom as fast as possible
You feel like Cinderella rushing to the ball, hoping to meet prince charming
And you really feel like you have a shot at pulling this off. 
Rodrick feels like absolute shit
He didn’t think prom could feel this awful, but here he is
Alone at a table like a total loser while everyone else is dancing and having a good time
He looked around for Ward
And found him and his girlfriend hooking up under the bleachers
And in the bathroom
And in an empty classroom
So third wheeling is officially not an option anymore
He feels like everyone is laughing at him
Some of them literally are
And in a room full of poofy pastel dresses and suits, he sticks out like a sore thumb
His outfit does kind of look like Gerard Way in the music video for Helena
But that’s obviously lost on all his mainstream pop obsessed classmates
He’s in a crowded room full of everyone in his grade
And he’s never felt more alone
This is torture
He’s about to get up and leave when the doors open on the other side of the gym
Heads turn as a gasp fills the room, followed by low murmuring
The crowd parts like Moses parting the sea, and Rodrick looks over curiously
You emerge from the graveyard of pastel tulle in a gorgeous, slinky, hot pink dress that looks like Elle Woods and Marilyn Monroe combined
And you’re looking right at him
His heart starts pounding
You walk toward him as a hush falls over the room
This can’t be real
There’s no way this is real
“Hi, Rodrick.” you say softly
He’s confused as fuck and feels like he could cry 
You actually know who he is??
You know his name???
“...Hi,” he chokes out, unsure of where the hell this is going
You look up at him with your pretty sparkly eyes and he feels like dreaming
“I…” you start, and he realizes you’re looking at him the way he looks at you, the way he’s been looking at you since he first saw you
“I never got to thank you for playing at my party.” You say softly
Thank him??
You actually liked it??
Everyone is staring at you with their jaws on the floor, but neither of you notice or care right now
He manages to choke out a response that probably sounds really stupid, but you just giggle sweetly
Are you blushing??
“Would-” you start, finally deciding to swallow your nerves and bite the bullet 
You have to go for it
You’ve never liked someone as much as you like Rodrick and if you don’t try now you’ll regret it for the rest of your life
Rodrick’s heart is hammering in his chest
You look so pretty he could die
“Do you want to dance?”
The words are out before your nerves can take over
He looks at you in disbelief 
“Yeah,” he breaths, hoping that if this is a dream that it’s one he won’t wake up from for a while
You step closer to him, but you both freeze as the next song starts playing
It’s another oversaturated top 50 pop song
You grimace in unison 
Rodrick notices your mutual distaste for the overplayed song
If you really liked loded diper…
“Uh, here,” he pulls out his headphones and offers you one
“Thanks,” you say, trying to suppress the butterflies erupting inside you
It feels intimate, sharing headphones and listening to his playlists
You fight a giddy smile and pop in the headphone as he hits shuffle
A flash of fear that you’ll judge him for his music taste and this whole beautiful dream will be ruined burns through him
Your pause as the music begins to play
Rodrick’s fear vanishes as fast as it came when you look up at him with enthusiastic sincerity
“I love Iron Maiden!”
“Really?” he asks
He thought you couldn’t surprise him anymore than you have tonight, but this just keeps getting better and better
“Yeah,” you nod, smiling brightly as you place his hands on your waist
You sway softly to the beat of the song
You rest your head on Rodrick’s chest, a banger of a song playing in one ear, and Rodrick’s thudding heartbeat in the other
Neither of you are aware of the stares, of Heather freaking out behind you, of the whispers and the gossip or one of the teachers cashing in on winning a bet that Rodrick would actually dance with someone by the end of the night
Even if you did, you wouldn’t care
Rodrick holds you tight, never wanting this night to end
His heart starts pounding harder as he looks down at you, and you pull away from him enough to look up at him
He swallows, hoping this goes well
“Me and the guys are going to see Iron Maiden next friday and I have an extra ticket, would you want to-”
You’re already nodding
“Yes!” you beam
Going to an amazing concert with the hottest guy you’ve ever seen is literally what you’ve been dreaming of for years
Rodrick lets out a chuckle, overjoyed that this worked, that he’s dancing with you and you said yes
He makes a mental note to thank his mom for forcing him to come here
But he forgets it as soon as you stretch up, pulling his face down to yours
You press a warm kiss to his lips, one full of anticipation, one you’ve both been dreaming about
He pulls you closer, melting into your touch
He thinks maybe high school isn’t as bad as he thought
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ggrna · 7 months
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thing in progress. twitter people loved it already
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