#how to explain to my parents hey don’t do that!
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birdy-bird27 · 7 months ago
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Not me catching my parents trying out ai images 😭😭 I had to step away for a moment without blowing up and going on a long winded passionate rant
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ontologicalmoki · 8 months ago
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unsolicited parenting advice of the day tell your kids what to expect! If your two year old is anxious about when dad is going to get home from work, teach him to recognize what patterns indicate that dad is coming home soon! After lunch we will do an activity and then clean and THEN dad will get home. Listen when the calendar day starts with an S dad does not have to go to work!!
and if something goes wrong and today does NOT go according to the plan your little guy expects, tell him!! Hey, dad has to go to work after all today, but he will be home after lunch! Today dad has to get groceries after work, so he’ll be home later than normal. But he will return with more bananas! Focus on the positives too, give them things they can understand. Don’t just say “not today,” they understand the concept of grocery stores and unexpected trips. Just tell them the problem. You’d hate being in the dark about everything that happens to you also. Let them control their situation, even if it’s just their own emotions and expectations.
or even! Teach them to read an analogue clock! Let me tell you, church nursery in the 1.5-3.5 age group got so much less stressful and anxious for EVERYONE when I taught my kids how to read the clock. They don’t have to ask me anymore how much time is left and fish for answers I can’t give them. They know that their guardians will come for them when the long stripe on the clock touches the 2, and that if they aren’t there then then they’re LATE and they get to hold this over their parents head. Because they know their parents can be late. And they LOVE knowing when this has occurred. There is so much less anxiety.
anyway explain stuff to your kids, they want to know. This has been an unsolicited parenting advice PSA
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lizardho · 2 months ago
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I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.
By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.
At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.
I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).
I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.
I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).
I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)
I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.
I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.
A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.
After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.
I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.
On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.
Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕
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noisilyscreechingsong · 7 months ago
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“The what?”
Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.
So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.
Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.
“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.
“Same,” Danny agrees.
“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.
The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.
“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.
“Bet.”
They look at Duke.
Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.
Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.
“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”
Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.
“What’d you see?”
Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.
“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.
“Need a hand?”
Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.
“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.
Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”
“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.
Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.
“Whoa-“
Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.
The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.
“Holy crap! Danny!”
“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”
“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.
“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.
The three brothers all pause and look at him.
“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.
“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.
Danny pulls it back out of reach.
“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.
“What do you-“
But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.
The batboys glance at each other.
“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”
“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”
“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.
“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”
“Cool. That’s fine.”
**
After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.
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genderfreakxx · 1 year ago
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Ah yes, the “parents misgendering you in the past tense because it makes sense to them and you get that but also it sucks and is painful” problem.
I know it well.
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milktiicup · 19 days ago
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H-h-hey.. senpai… I was wondering if you could make more about Mr Crawling! (I LOVEDDD YOUR PREVIOUS FAN FIC ABT HIM) because he’s such a cutie tbh and I love him sm so I was wondering maybe if you could make something about how he would react to the reader spending more time with someone else (coworker preferably!)
Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to do this..!
(Can I be 🦁 anon?)
the jealous type!
His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”
‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🌊 ⋅ ˚✮ omg my first anon >.< ofc u can be 🦁 anon!!!!
warnings. more fluff/comfort hehe, spoilers for end04
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It’s late when you return home. If it was any other day, you’d be scheming around the streets with your crowbar- but life is different now. 
You have a commitment at home. Your new roommate… boyfriend? thing. It’s almost as routine as having a pet; coming home, giving him a pat on the head, giving him his completely normal legally obtained soup and ending the day snuggled up on the sofa with him at your feet. 
Sure, he’s the one who came with you all the way from that other world and didn’t have any friends here, but does that mean you can’t? It’s not like you could bring Mr. Crawling with you to work, or after work drinks with your coworkers. Normal people can still see him, after all. He’s just… a little hard for other people to notice- you picked up on that when your parents dropped by on an impromptu visit one evening.
When you kick your shoes off when you come in through the front door, you feel guilty. You can tell he’s a bit down- of course, Mr. Crawling still tackled greeted you with his overzealous, unnecessarily over the top hug. 
“You return!” he says, every time without fail. 
“I return,” you reply, petting his head, but something feels off. He doesn’t let go immediately, and his usual enthusiasm is muted.
Mr. Crawling pauses, his face stuffed into your neck. You quirk a brow, curiously eyeing him as he takes a big sniff of your skin and clothes. His face scrunches. “Not you… smell bad. Someone else.”
Is he the jealous type? Wow, and since when was his sense of smell so good?
“You can smell my friend?” you blink at him, cringing as you feel a knot in your stomach. You try to explain, “Uhm… someone else… uhhhh… my friend.”
“Other friend?” Mr. Crawling frowns, sitting back on his feet, the space between you growing slightly colder.
You pull yourself up from the floor, careful to meet his uncertain gaze. “Other friend,” you confirm.
“Friend… same me?”
You sigh, wishing this language was more descriptive. It’s hard to explain something so complex when neither of you really understands it fully. You tap your fingers nervously against your leg, thinking. “I don’t understand…” you sigh, the weight of the misunderstanding settling on you. “They’re human.”
Mr. Crawling’s frown only grows deeper. He shakes his head, and scoots himself closer to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, his hair falling over the both of you as if trying to shield you from everything outside of your house. “Friend like this?” 
Resting your head on his shoulder, you let out a content sigh. “Not like this, Crawling.”
“You one. You me two. Not like three.” His grip tightens around you, pulling you as close as he possibly can, like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “Me like you. Worry… not like me. Gone long time… Smell someone else.”
You pull back slightly, feeling the pressure of his arms around you. He’s not just possessive, he’s scared. You stretch your arms out. “Like you. Big like. See? This much!” You hold your hands closer together, parallel to each other. “Friend ok. Little like. Understand?”
You chuckle lightly, but the soft pang in your chest makes you pause. “You get it now, Crawling?” you mumble. You reach up and scratch his head absently, a familiar gesture that seems to soothe both of you. “Uhm… when I leave, I go to work. You know work, right?” He nuzzles into your palm, and you just assume he does, for the time being. “Work friend! Not important. You important. You, uh… you understand me?”
“Me understand,” he murmurs into your palm, his cool lips tickling the skin. “Smell bad… Me only like you. You smell good."
"I know you like me, Crawling. I like you, too."
He lets out a satisfied hum, his body relaxing again, and for a brief moment, you wonder if he’s truly getting it—or if he just likes the idea of being yours as much as you like the idea of him being yours. He pulls your head closer to his chest, and that’s when you decide you don’t really need to build rapport with your coworkers that much, not when you have a cute ghost waiting for you back at home.
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itsmarsss · 10 months ago
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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!
3K notes · View notes
pucksandpower · 4 months ago
Text
Like … for Uber?
Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: maybe you should have been a bit more specific when you told your parents that your boyfriend drives for a living
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The aroma of roast chicken and freshly baked rolls wafts through the air as you nervously adjust the centerpiece on the dining room table. Your parents and younger brother are due home any minute, and you’ve spent the afternoon preparing for this pivotal family dinner. Tonight, they’ll finally meet your boyfriend.
The doorbell chimes, sending a jolt through your body. You hurry to the entrance, smoothing down your dress before opening the door. Max stands there, a bouquet of flowers in hand and an easy smile on his face.
“Hey,” he says, leaning in to kiss your cheek. “These are for your mother.”
“Thanks, you didn’t have to do that,” you reply, taking the flowers. “Come on in. My family should be here soon.”
As you lead Max into the living room, you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. You haven’t exactly been forthcoming about Max’s career, telling your family only that he’s “a driver.” It wasn’t a lie, per se, but you knew they assumed he worked for a ride-sharing service or delivery company.
“Nice place,” Max comments, looking around. “Very ... homey.”
You laugh. “Is that a polite way of saying it’s nothing like your fancy Monaco apartment?”
“No, I mean it,” he insists, pulling you close. “It feels lived-in. Comfortable.”
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupts your moment. “That’ll be them,” you say, your stomach doing somersaults. “Ready?”
Max squeezes your hand. “Always.”
Your parents burst through the door, arms laden with grocery bags. Your mother’s face lights up when she spots Max.
“Oh, you must be the boyfriend!” She exclaims, setting down her bags to give him a hug. “You’re even more handsome than Y/N said.”
Your father steps forward, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you, son. Heard a lot about you.”
“All good things, I hope,” Max replies with a chuckle.
As introductions are made, you can’t help but notice your parents exchanging curious glances. You know they’re dying to ask about Max’s job, but they’re too polite to broach the subject right away.
“Dinner smells amazing,” your father says, sniffing the air appreciatively. “Shall we sit down?”
Everyone gathers around the table, and you begin to serve the food. The conversation flows easily at first, with your parents asking Max about his family and where he grew up. But as the main course is cleared away, you can sense the questions they’re itching to ask.
Your mother finally breaks. “So, Max, how long have you been driving?”
Max looks momentarily confused. “Uh, professionally? Since I was 17, I guess.”
Your father’s eyebrows shoot up. “Seventeen? Isn’t that a bit young to start with Uber?”
“Uber?” Max repeats, bewildered. “I don’t-”
You quickly interject, “Dad, Max doesn’t work for Uber.”
“Oh, my mistake,” your father says, looking embarrassed. “Lyft, then?”
Max turns to you, a mix of amusement and confusion on his face. “Schatje, I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
Before you can explain, your mother chimes in. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of, dear. Driving for those apps is honest work. We’re just curious about what it’s like.”
Max opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off. “Mom, Dad, I think I need to clarify something. When I said Max was a driver, I didn’t mean-”
The sound of the front door slamming interrupts you. Your younger brother, Tommy, comes barreling into the dining room, out of breath and wide-eyed.
“Sorry I’m late, I was at practice and-” He stops short, his jaw dropping as he spots Max. “Holy shit! You’re Max Verstappen!”
The room falls silent. Your parents look from Tommy to Max, then back to Tommy, confusion etched on their faces.
“Language, Tommy,” your mother scolds automatically, before adding, “Wait, what did you say?”
Tommy is practically vibrating with excitement. “That’s Max Verstappen! He’s not just any driver, he’s a Formula 1 World Champion!”
Your father turns to Max, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief. “Is this true?”
Max nods, looking slightly sheepish. “Yes, sir. I’m a Formula 1 driver for Red Bull Racing.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Your mother is the first to recover, letting out a nervous laugh. “Oh my, and here we were asking you about Uber! We must look so foolish.”
“Not at all,” Max assures her, his smile warm and genuine. “It’s actually quite refreshing. Most people I meet already know everything about me.”
Your father leans forward, his interest piqued. “So, Formula 1 ... that’s the racing with the really fast cars, right?”
Max nods, launching into an explanation of the sport. As he talks, you can see your parents becoming more and more fascinated. Tommy, meanwhile, is peppering Max with questions about his latest races and rival drivers.
“I can’t believe my sister is dating Max Verstappen,” Tommy says for the third time, shaking his head in disbelief.
You feel a blush creeping up your neck. “Tommy, please ...”
Max reaches under the table to squeeze your hand. “It’s alright, liefje. I’m just glad they know now. No more secrets, yeah?”
Your mother stands up suddenly. “Oh, goodness! I completely forgot about dessert. I’ll just go fetch it.”
As she hurries to the kitchen, your father clears his throat. “So, Max, I have to ask ... is it dangerous? All that racing, I mean.”
Max considers the question carefully. “There are, of course, risks. But the cars are incredibly safe these days, and we take every precaution possible.”
Your mother returns with a homemade apple pie, setting it down in the center of the table. “I hope you like pie, Max. It’s an old family recipe.”
“It looks delicious,” Max says sincerely. “Thank you for going to all this trouble.”
As your mother serves the pie, the conversation shifts to more casual topics. You find yourself relaxing, relieved that the truth is finally out and that your family seems to be taking it well.
“So, how did you two meet?” Your father asks, between bites of pie.
You and Max exchange a glance, both smiling at the memory. “It was at a charity event in London,” you begin.
Max jumps in, “She spilled her drink all over my shoes.”
“Max!” You exclaim, swatting his arm playfully. “I did not spill it, you bumped into me!”
He laughs, holding up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Maybe we bumped into each other. Either way, I’m glad it happened.”
Your mother sighs contentedly. “That’s so romantic. And now look at you two, so happy together.”
Tommy rolls his eyes. “Gross, Mom. Can we talk about racing again?”
The rest of the evening passes in a blur of laughter and conversation. As the night winds down, you find yourself in the kitchen with your mother, washing dishes while Max chats with your father and Tommy in the living room.
“He’s a lovely boy,” your mother says softly, handing you a plate to dry. “I can see why you like him so much.”
You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. “Thanks, Mom. I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront about his job. I just ... I wanted you to get to know him as a person first, you know?”
Your mother nods understandingly. “I get it, sweetheart. It must be hard, dating someone so famous. But from what I’ve seen tonight, he seems very down-to-earth.”
“He is,” you agree, glancing towards the living room where you can hear Max’s laughter mingling with your father’s. “He’s just Max to me.”
As you finish up in the kitchen, Max appears in the doorway. “Need any help?”
Your mother shoos him away. “Absolutely not, you’re our guest. Go relax.”
Max insists on helping anyway, drying the last few dishes as you and your mother put them away. The domesticity of the moment strikes you, and you find yourself imagining a future where scenes like this are commonplace.
Later, as you walk Max to his car, the cool night air nips at your skin. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.
“That went well, I think,” he says, a hint of relief in his voice.
You nod, leaning into him. “Better than I expected. Sorry about the Uber mix-up.”
Max laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Don’t be. It was kind of fun, actually. Your family is great, by the way.”
“They liked you too,” you assure him. “Even before they knew you were famous.”
He stops at his car, turning to face you. His eyes are soft in the moonlight as he cups your face in his hands. “That’s all that matters to me. That they like me for who I am, not what I do.”
You lean in, pressing your lips to his in a gentle kiss. “I love you, Max Verstappen, Uber driver extraordinaire.”
He grins against your lips. “And I love you, Y/N Y/L/N, girl who definitely did not spill her drink on my shoes.”
2K notes · View notes
fastandcarlos · 6 months ago
Text
The Littlest Surprise » Daniel Ricciardo
caption: hello im a new f1 content creator and would love some feedback if you enjoy my fics tysm 🩷
summary: you’ve not been seen at the paddock for a while and the fans are getting worried, little do they know the reason for your absence is about to make everyone’s dreams come true
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*
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liked by schecoperez, georgerussell63 and 842,420 others
danielricciardo: always a pleasure to have the fam on my side, excited to show the little ones what uncle danny gets up to 🥺
49,302 comments
username1: is this yet another race y/n won’t be at this weekend??
username2: I cannot wait for the day that this man becomes a dad
username3: if y/n doesn’t hurry up and make him a dad…daniel i’m happy to offer my services 😊
maxverstappen1: how big is y/n/n now! she looks so grown up 🥺
danielricciardo: @/maxverstappen1 she’ll be 6 soon, where does the time go??
oscarpiastri: don’t forget your little adopted aussie nephew
landonorris: and your british nephew too!!
danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri @/landonorris hey! i might be a bit older but not old enough to be your uncle thank you
username4: anyone else think something might be going on, daniel posting about his family without y/n there is strange
username5: @/username4 let’s not overthink this too much, y/n might just be busy
username4: @/username5 it’s been ages since we last saw her, you gotta admit it’s a bit sus
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liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 629,301 others
danielricciardo: another great weekend of racing, nice feeling to be back on the podium…man how I missed hearing that champagne pop 🏎️
38,402 comments
charles_leclerc: congrats brother, nice to be up there with you once again
username6: y/n not distracting you anymore to stop you getting on the podium??
username7: @/username6 wtf? why would you suggest such a thing?
carlossainz55: always knew you’d be back up there one day, long may it continue!
yukitsunoda0511: you gotta give me some tips bro, those manoeuvres were lethal today 🔥
pierregasly: danny ric just doing danny ric things
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liked by ynusername, charles_leclerc and 922,547 others
danielricciardo: hey team! just wanted to clear up some things after miami this weekend…me and y/n are absolutely fine, had some things going on that I promise we’ll explain soon ❤️❤️ for now tho, here’s an update on life recently ☁️✨
92,174 comments
ynusername: 🥺🥺🥺🥺
username8: I knew you guys would be okay, take as long as you need my two favourites!!
username9: a big screw you to those who doubted you…real fans love you guys
landonorris: I love you guys, here if you need anything brother ❤️
username10: hope whatever is going on clears up soon, we’re missing you guys around here🩷
lilymhe: tell y/n to gimme a call! ily guys ✨
visacashapprb: can’t wait to welcome y/n back into the paddock soon - see you for race week!
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liked by danielricciardo, iamrebeccad and 310,409 others
ynusername: it’s been a long few months, but we finally feel ready to share with you our happy news. pregnancy has been tough, I’d love to say it has treated me well, but it hasn’t. I cannot thank daniel enough for being by my side and helping me out whenever I’ve needed him…baby spam incoming ⛅️🍼
ps. each of us chose a picture to share, guess who chose what 🙄
28,461 comments
danielricciardo: words cannot begin to describe how proud I am of how brave you’ve been, the worst of it is over now my love, the countdown to baby ricciardo starts now
danielricciardo: ps my photo is way cooler than yours is
landonorris: omg I can’t believe you guys didn’t tell me, uncle Lando reporting for duty!
carlossainz55: the biggest congratulations you two, you’re going to be the best parents
carmenmmundt: so glad to hear y/n is doing better, may the rest of your pregnancy be a dream ✨
lilymhe: the strongest girl I know - so excited to see you become a mum 😍
username11: all my manifesting has paid off, baby ricciardo will be the luckiest
oscarpiastri: AUSSIE AUSSIE AUSSIE!!
estebanocon: my spidey senses were spot on, I knew a baby was on the way!
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liked by danielricciardo, lance_stroll and 102,585 others
ynusername: life lately 💫 exhausted but loving all the little things (including daniel 😂)
17,492 comments
username12: y/n looks like she’s living the dream, mum life suits her well 🥺
danielricciardo: im definitely not a “little thing” how else did we end up like this?
landonorris: @/danielricciardo excuse me sir you are about to have a child, sort your humour out
maxverstappen1: glad to see you’re feeling more like yourself again y/n, brunch on me soon!
ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 yes - let’s not tell daniel #gatecrasher
danielricciardo: @/ynusername you know your comments are public…right?
username13: anyone else wishing they could brunch with y/n too??
lance_stroll: sending all the good book recs your way!
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 738,603 others
danielricciardo: babymooning 🍼 the smile says it all, so happy to have my girl back on her feet and feeling like herself again…making the last few memories just the two of us 🥺
83,500 comments
ynusername: thank you for the best couple of days and being my personal taxi driver
username14: look at his face - you can tell daniel is buzzing to be a dad
pierregasly: where was my invite?? I thought we were friends
carlossainz55: and mine!
georgerussell63: me too!
landonorris: looks like we were all forgotten!
visacashapprb: enjoy the break daniel! you and y/n absolutely deserve it 🏁🩷
username15: i speak for all your fans when i say keep the holiday photos coming pls
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liked by ynusername, georgerussell63 and 920,355 others
danielricciardo: mum and dad 🔥🥺
tagged: ynusername
58,429 comments
landonorris: adopt me pls, im less problematic than a baby
danielricciardo: @/landonorris debatable
lewishamilton: so glad to see you both so happy, good luck with everything
charles_leclerc: wow!! y/n looks insane (suppose you look alright too daniel!)
ynusername: mum and dad?? i can definitely get used to hearing that 🤩
alex_albon: it’s not fair how adorable you two are, this kid is hella lucky!!
username16: pls keep the baby spam coming, you guys are the sweetest 🍼💫
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liked by lilymhe, yukitsunoda0511 and 109,446 others
ynusername: the many faces of a man who has just remembered he’s just signed up for no sleep for the next 10 years 😂
tagged: danielricciardo
23,201 comments
danielricciardo: after all I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me? you just wait my love 🫢
ynusername: @/danielricciardo this was too good of an opportunity to miss
carlossainz55: make the most of that middle photo whilst you can danny
georgerussell63: you have NO idea how much I just laughed at this y/n 😂😂😂
schecoperez: speaking from experience, you could not be more correct y/n #dannynosleep
username17: embarrassing dad before even becoming a dad 😬
oscarpiastri: call me for anymore embarrassing daniel pics 😂
danielricciardo: @/oscarpiastri no one asked for you to show up here
username18: I just want you to be my mum and dad instead 😭
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liked by oscarpiastri, carmenmmundt and 113,999 others
ynusername: can you believe this man is really about to become a father?? 🤦🏻‍♀️
32,694 comments
charles_leclerc: sometimes i really do wonder what you see in him y/n
landonorris: the biggest clown known to man, still the world’s biggest kid 😂😂
danielricciardo: is that really how you want to talk about the father of your child? I thought you were supposed to love me
ynusername: @/danielricciardo i do, ily very much 🥰
username17: not y/n releasing all the humiliating photos of daniel now they’re about to be parents
username18: y/n’s clearing the phone album for baby spam and giving us daniel spam in return
logansargeant: more to the point, this is the guy you chose as the father of your child??
lilymhe: the two of you are perfect for each other y/n ❤️
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liked by ynusername, oscarpiastri and 1,403,407 others
danielricciardo: welcome to the world baby ricciardo 💕
after a lot of hardships and tricky times, y/n and i are beyond excited to share with you that our little one is here. everyone is safe, loved and doing well, my heart has never felt so full 🥺
tagged: ynusername
 ˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
2K notes · View notes
Text
Breakfast Time
My son’s stuck in a time loop again.
He thinks I don’t know, of course. He’s never told me that this happens to him (or that he can do this, possibly; I’m not sure which it is.) Maybe I’m a bad mother, if I haven’t proven myself worthy of that trust. But there is only so many times that one can watch their son trudge through a day with bored impatience, anticipating everything you say just a little too quickly and showing no surprise to even the most surprising event, and then come downstairs the next day disoriented but rejuvenated and with a new zest for life and a tendency to get blindsided by even the most predictable things, before one makes the obvious connection.
I don’t think he’s lived through this day too many times yet, because he’s not frustrated by my good morning joke but not surprised by the monster attack being announced on the news. He eats his toast makes polite conversation that sounds just a little too rote until his sister comes down, and he puts his toast down in that distinctive way that make her eyes widen in sudden realisation, a reaction I never would have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. He told her about three time loops ago, I think, although it might’ve been earlier and I just never noticed the signal until then. I make sure to keep the smile on my face as I push a plate of toast towards her.
The thing on the news is some kind of flying beast, and my son’s eyes don’t leave the TV screen. I expect that calm, solid determination that I usually see in his expression on days like this, but instead he watches it only with a wary sort of calculation. I suppress a sigh – it looks like I won’t be remembering today, then.
The pair exchange glances and look to me. “Hey, mum, I figured we should go to school early. We’ve both got these big tests coming up and – ”
“Yes, fine, whatever. Go.” I know what you’re thinking – obviously they’re off to do something dangerous, and obviously they’re far too young for this sort of thing, and obviously I shouldn’t enable this, and I’m a terrible parent for letting them run off to maybe get themselves killed someday. But I put this to you:
How, exactly, do you expect me to stop them?
As my son heads for the door, though, I almost stop him. I consider, not for the first time, just telling him what I know, what I’ve figured out, and asking him to explain everything, to say where he’s going and what he plans to do about that thing and if his sister is involved and if they at least have help, to put my mind at ease. I don’t, though. Because, logically… I must have done that before, right? In at least one of the countless days that never happened. I must have gotten worried or angry or just fed up with this ridiculous charade and told him that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought he was. He has to know that I know, right? And yet, he still chooses to let it play out like this.
Or, perhaps, he told me once. That must have happened, right? I must have been there to help, to patch his wounds and dry his tears and listen to him confess his fears or his worries or his regrets about this big responsibility, about whatever he’s doing out there. He must have told me, at some point, at least once, in one of those nonexistent days. And afterwards, he chose not to tell the me that stuck around. Meaning that I must have given him some reason to keep this secret.
What did I do to him? What did I say to him? How bad a confidante must I have been, that he chooses instead to keep me in the dark?
They leave, they ‘go to school early’, and I start on the dishes. As I wash my daughter’s breakfast crumbs away, the plate slips from my fingers and shatters on the tiles at my feet. I sigh, and turn to get a broom.
Then stop. Pick up all the other dirty plates. And shatter them, one by one, on the tiles.
Then I leave the mess behind me, pull a full tub of rocky road ice cream out of the freezer, and resolve to spend the day eating junk and watching youtube videos. After all, it’s not like it’s going to matter tomorrow, right?
9K notes · View notes
thelostconsultant · 3 months ago
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Midnight rain
pairing: Lando Norris x reader
summary: Lando wanted a family, but you weren’t ready. Three months after your breakup, he's still in love with you, and now it's your turn to decide whether or not to give him a second chance.
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“You’re exhausting,” you groaned into the phone.
It was well into the morning when Lando’s name flashed on your screen, which wouldn’t have been so surprising if you were in the same time zone. But you were in Singapore, six hours ahead of Belgium, which meant it was around three in the morning over there. When he spoke, his speech was slurred, he was obviously struggling to form coherent sentences, but he sounded hell-bent on talking to you right now.
Since you were almost at the stadium for rehearsal before tonight's concert, you didn't feel like keeping up the conversation, but the way his voice broke made you listen. You knew he hadn't been in the best state of mind since the breakup, but the fact he still felt so miserable made you sad.
“We would have beautiful babies, you and me. Why don't you want to see them? A mini you, or a mini me, maybe a mini mix of us… So cute,” he said, at least that’s what you managed to understand from his mess of a speech.
And he giggled. You could imagine him lying on his back, one hand holding the phone while the other hugged a pillow to his chest. Rolling your eyes, you thought about what to say to this. It was always the same story, he would call you, tell you how much he missed you, how much he loved you, how he wished you would marry him, and how much he wanted to have a child with you.
The same things that made you break up with him in the first place. He told you about his vision; a big wedding somewhere remote, then the two of you would travel together, preferably with you coming to his races as a good luck charm, and soon you would welcome your first child who would be spoiled rotten.
That's not what you wanted. You wanted to focus on your career, you wanted to go on tours, you wanted to make more albums, you wanted to do so much before becoming a wife and a mother. Lando didn't seem to understand this, he kept telling you it would be okay, that there were many singers who could return to where they'd been before, but you didn't buy it.
“Go to sleep, Lando,” you told him calmly, hoping that gentle parenting would work.
“No, I won't sleep until you're back to me. I'll stay awake and–Don’t touch my phone, Osc!” he protested suddenly.
You heard some bickering in the background, which was followed by a long sigh. “Hey, it's Oscar. I'm sorry, we stayed with him and have been trying to keep him from calling you, but he somehow snatched his phone back from Max. You okay?”
At least he was in good hands and under supervision. “Yeah, sure, thanks for staying with him. Good race for you two by the way,” you said with a smile.
“You watched it?”
“Well, I checked the results and saw the highlights.”
There was a short break which made you wonder if he was still there, but then he spoke up again. “Listen, I don’t want to be involved in this, but I’m worried about Lando. You broke up three months ago and he’s still a mess. I get it, you don’t want marriage and kids yet, but maybe he would understand your reasons and agree to wait if you just sat down to discuss it.” You didn’t know what to say to that, but apparently Oscar was also a bit hesitant. “Do you still love him?”
“I don’t know if it’s love, but I care about him. We were together for over three years, it’s not gonna disappear from my life in a blink of an eye,” you explained. “But… I don’t know, I’m just afraid he would be back at it in a matter of weeks, once again trying to convince me to start a family with him.”
“And if we talked to him when he was sober? If we made sure he understands what you’ve been trying to tell him? Would you give him another chance?”
You took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Would you? Would it be worth it? You were on tour right now, but after the next four concerts you would end the Asian leg and have a few weeks for yourself. You would have time to figure things out. “I would talk to him, and maybe I would be willing to try again. Once last time. The moment he’s back on his bullshit, I’m going to leave him for good,” you added.
You could hear the soft laugh from Oscar’s side, and you could see him glancing down at his teammate with a smile. “I’m sure he would like it. I’m not sure how long he’ll be knocked out once we convince him to sleep, but I’ll tell him to call you at a reasonable time when he’s finally sober again, okay?”
“Yeah, okay. Thanks for everything.”
He said goodbye and left you with your thoughts, wondering if you made the right call. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to be with him, because the years you spent together meant a lot to you. He was one of the kindest people you’ve ever met, a ray of sunshine, really, in stark contrast with your sometimes gloomy personality.
But who knew, maybe his friends can talk some sense into him.
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Lando knew he only had one chance at this. All his friends were very clear about this, Oscar especially, since he had been the one to talk to you. During that one phone call a week ago, you agreed to come to him in Monaco, visiting his apartment so you wouldn’t have this conversation at a public place. It was something between the two of you, there was no need for strangers hearing even snippets of it.
When you arrived and his eyes fell on you again, every single thought left his brain. He was just standing there in the door, utterly speechless, surprised that he didn’t start drooling at the sight. After all those months spent looking at photos of you at your concerts, seeming like you had the time of your life on the stage, it was so nice to see this you, the one without the sparkling dresses, the down-to-earth girl he loved so much it hurt.
“Can I come in?” you asked him hesitantly.
He blinked a few times before realizing he had been staring for a little too long. “Sure, sure, come in,” he said as he stepped out of the way. “Can I bring you anything?”
Shaking your head, you sat on the couch and patted the empty space next to you. Like a well-trained puppy, Lando sat down and turned to look at you, taking in every little detail as if this was the last time he saw you. Because maybe this was the last time, maybe you would end the conversation with the decision that this relationship couldn’t be revived.
After several painfully silent minutes later, you finally stopped fidgeting with your ring and let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to start a family yet, at least not the way you want it. Marriage is one thing, but… You expected me to spend my time following you around. I have my own career to nurture, Lan, you need to understand that. Sure, one day I’ll be ready for it, but not yet,” you explained kindly, your eyes examining his face for a reaction.
But Lando knew better than to let his disappointment be visible, he fought hard to keep it away from you. So, when he spoke up, his voice was also kept neutral. “But you wouldn’t be against it one day, right? Starting a family with me, I mean,” he said, deep down hoping there would be a dazzling smile on your face as you replied.
You smiled, but it was more of a polite, maybe little uncertain smile. “Yeah, one day, although I can’t tell you when, I can’t give you a deadline. Maybe in our early thirties, maybe sooner. You would have to wait and see. Do you think you can do that?”
He couldn’t hold back a sad laugh, mostly because you didn’t really give him the choice to negotiate. You told him what you had to offer, and it was a take it or leave it situation. And he wanted you back in his life, he wanted to be by your side every step of the way, he wanted to be your biggest fan, and he needed you to support him. “I can. For you,” he added seriously as he reached out to take your hand.
860 notes · View notes
lexirosewrites · 8 months ago
Text
Wealthy omega Steve going on an arranged date each week to the same restaurant because his parents want him to find a mate.
Alpha Eddie who busks in the parking lot for tips and always offers him a cigarette and a shoulder to cry on after it doesn’t work out.
It takes them a while.
“Another one? That’s the third date this week, pretty boy. You going for a record or something?” Eddie asks, already holding his half-finished cigarette out for Steve to take.
He does. It’s his only reward for doing all of this.
Well, that and Eddie.
Eddie makes this easier.
Steve takes a long draw from it, craving the burn of nicotine more than he cares to admit to himself.
He craves Eddie’s company too, but that’s between him and the cigarette.
“Yeah, my parents are working overtime it seems. They’re bound and determined to have me mated off before spring.”
Steve laughs.
Eddie doesn’t.
“They sound awful.”
They are. Their insistence on old-fashioned values and treating their omega son like a burden to be rid of is proof enough.
“They mean well,” he says. “I think.”
Eddie hums thoughtfully. It’s clear that he disagrees.
Steve passes the cigarette back.
The alpha snubs it out on the sidewalk they’re sitting on instead.
“How long are you gonna keep doing this for?”
“Well, as long as it takes to find someone who’s interested, I guess. There’s not an exact timeline or any—”
Eddie startles Steve when he cuts him off with a growl.
He doesn’t look mad, but his forehead creases, deep frown, and sour scent speaks of irritation.
“Not what I meant.”
Oh.
“I don’t know, Eddie. They’re my parents… and it’s not like I’ve got anyone else knocking down my door.”
Even his dates aren’t interested once they’ve met him in person.
Steve always looks good on paper. He’s attractive and from an upstanding family, a decent investment at first glance.
But then he opens his mouth. That’s where their interest always ends.
Sometime between shaking hands and dessert, their eyes get bored and they start checking their watch more. They don’t bother to hide that they’re running out the clock, eager to be away from Steve.
He thought it would hurt less after a while, but it doesn’t.
“How many times are we gonna do this, Stevie?“
And now even Eddie is bored with him. It makes sense. They’ve been meeting up for months and Steve isn’t worth much for stimulating conversation.
It had to end eventually.
“I’m sorry. I— I didn’t realize I was bothering you. I can leave you to your gigging, man. Let me just—”
Steve reaches for his wallet, pulling out a thick wad of bills to shove in Eddie’s guitar case as an apology for taking up his precious time.
Compensation for the therapy.
“Hey, no— that’s not what I meant, baby. I just— ugh, why is this so hard to say?” Eddie groans, grabbing at his own hair in frustration.
Steve hasn’t the faintest idea what’s ailing Eddie. The guy is normally chill 100% of the time. It’s why Steve goes to him for comfort. He’s hard to shake.
“Sorry?” he tries.
“No, I’m sorry! I just can’t sit here for yet another evening and pretend like there are more fish in the sea for you or whatever,” Eddie explains frantically, his eyes begging Steve to understand.
Ouch. Okay. Point made.
Steve is unlovable, got it.
He stands, brushing off his slacks so his shaking hands aren’t as noticeable.
Keep cool. Breathe.
“Understood. I won’t bother you anymore then. I can park across the street next time too. Good luck with everything, Eddie. I’m sure your band will get signed soon, you’re a talented musician.”
Eddie shoots to his feet, almost tripping over his own lanky limbs in the process.
He grabs the sleeve of Steve’s dress shirt, stopping him from leaving.
“Don’t go on anymore dates.”
Jesus.
“Yeah, I got it the first time, thanks. I’m undesirable. Can you stop repeating it?”
Eddie looks like he’s been slapped, but he doesn’t say anything back. The bluntness must have caught him off guard.
Steve sighs, attempting to pull free from the alpha’s grip.
He almost manages it.
But then Eddie snaps back to reality and his eyes go wide for just a split moment before he kisses Steve right on the lips.
It’s unexpected to say the least.
It’s also probably the best kiss of his entire life. Too bad it’s from someone who just told him to quit dating because nobody will ever want to court him.
They finally break apart and Steve sways.
“Eddie… what in the actual hell are you—?”
“I love you! I love you— I’ve been in love with you for months, but you insist on going on all these dates with alphas who have no taste and they keep breaking your heart and leaving me to pick up the pieces, but I don’t want to keep handing them back. I want to keep you, Steve. I want to be the only alpha you go on dates with.”
Steve stops trying to run away.
Instead, he yanks at the collar of Eddie’s shirt, tugging him into another, longer kiss.
This is love, huh? Makes sense.
His lips are warm and so is his heart. Patched up once more and encased in a body other than his own
No more arranged dates.
“That was a ‘yes,’ in case it didn’t translate.”
Eddie’s face is flushed and his happy smile is infectious.
“I don’t have the kind of money your usual dates have, but I had this really cute guy way overtip me earlier. Can I buy you dinner, pretty boy?”
It’s the first of many.
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no-144444 · 1 month ago
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stoic much? -o.piastri
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Day 21 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist
summary: oscar might be too good at the whole 'keeping a secret' thing. like, really good.
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Meeting his fellow drivers’ families was always something that Charles had enjoyed. He liked to see how his competition grew up, how they treated their parents, how they treated their siblings.
He was more than interested to meet his ‘sons’ family, and at the Monaco GP.
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“What time are they coming in?” Logan asked Oscar, the three of them walking the track with their engineers.
“A bit later. They landed like 2 hours ago but Ellie needed a nap,” Oscar explained.
“Have you met them already?” Charles asked Logan.
Logan smiled. “Oh yeah, they’re the best.”
Oscar chuckled. “And mom is coming in tomorrow with Hattie,”
Little did the three of them know, you were walking behind them with Ellie’s hand in yours, ready to sneak up on them. Logan, having a sneaking suspicion that someone important was behind them, glanced back and made eye contact. His grin widened and he stopped in his tracks, turning around and scooping Ellie up and into his arms. He covered her face in kisses as she giggled, him tickling her.
Oscar rushed to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing his lips to yours. “Hey baby,” he smiled. You two hadn’t seen each other in a matter of weeks, both of you too busy with your jobs. You, being one the highest paid lawyers in Monaco, him being an F1 driver.
“Log, calm with Ellie, she just got up!��� you called after them, despite Logan already starting to run with her on his back. “She’ll be wired for the whole day!”
“Got it!” he called back, but he didn’t slow down. It didn’t bother you.
“Logan! Bring me back my daughter please?!” Oscar laughed and Logan obliged. As they got closer Logan placed Ellie down and she ran into her dad’s arms, who lifted her up and smiled as bright as he did the day she was born.
“Daddy!” she cheered, holding onto a strand of his hair. “Can we race?” she asked.
You chuckled. “Dad has to talk to Tom about the track first, then we can go race him, Uncle Log, Uncle Zhou, and Uncle Lan, yeah?”
“God, she’s going to be a racer one day,” Logan chuckled.
Oscar shook his head. “Don’t say that.”
You chuckled. “At least now you know how your mom feels.”
He shot you a particularly nasty side-eye after that, but kissed you all the same.
“What the fuck?” Charles stood there stunned. Oscar chuckled, covering Ellie’s ears as she snuggled into her dads neck, completely uninterested in the world around her.
“This is Y/n, my wife,” Oscar introduced.
“Hi Charles, nice to see you again,” you smiled, pulling him in for a hug.
“You two know each other?” Logan asked.
“She’s my lawyer,” Charles explained, stunned. “And you’re married to him?”
You nodded. “4 years and counting.”
“And this is Elizabeth, or ‘Ellie’, our daughter,” Oscar smiled, trying to coax Ellie to wave to Charles. She did, shyly, and his stunned expression broke out into one of joy. Charles loved kids.
“How did I not know this before?” he chuckled.
Oscar shrugged. “No one ever asked.”
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“You have a wife?” Fernando gasped, shocked as everyone else had been that weekend. Charles, ever the gossip, had told Max, who told Checo, who told Carlos, who told Lando (who already knew), who told Alex, who told George, who told Lewis, who told Fernando, who told Lance, who told Esteban, who told Zhou (who already knew), who told Valterri, who told Nico, who told Kevin, who told Yuki, who told Liam, who told Franco.
Oscar nodded. “Yeah I do-”
“You have a kid?!” Alex came up beside them, mouth open. Oscar retrieved his wallet from his trouser pocket and pulled out a polaroid of the three of you at Christmas last year. Decked out in a princess dress, Ellie stood between you and him, both in ‘ugly Christmas t’shirts’. All three of you were smiling like children.
“My wife’s name is Y/n, and my daughter's name is Ellie. Come by Mclaren to meet them,” he offered, then walked ahead to catch up with Lando.
“He’s joking, right?” Alex turned to Fernando.
Fernando chuckled. “You never know with him.”
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He wasn’t kidding. Alex found that out when he finally made the trek over to the McLaren garage and found you, sitting with Logan and Oscar as Lando showed Ellie off to the engineers and other drivers.
“Alex,” he smiled, introducing himself.
“Y/n,” you smiled, shaking his hand.
“I didn’t know you existed,” he chuckled. Pierre, Charles, Lando, Carlos, Fernando, Mark, and Lance were busy playing with Ellie (with both you and Oscar looking at them, you didn’t trust them that much) to pay any attention to you, just how you liked it.
“Not many people did,” you shrugged. “Oscar‘a ashamed of us-“
“Hello? That’s not fair!” Oscar argued, a smile on his lips. “No one asked!”
“We didn’t think we’d have to!” Alex argued back, laughing.
“I wear a wedding ring! I'm wearing my wedding ring!”
“You do wear gloves,” you reminded him.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m done with the two of you.”
“Ellie will just agree with us!” You called after him as he walked over to save his daughter from the eyes of his colleagues.
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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)
fic-tober masterlist
taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi
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wonderjanga · 22 days ago
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Sharing Can in Fact Lead to Caring
Sometimes Billy doesn’t need Solomon. Sometimes, Billy just says whatever that comes off the top of his head, it can be surprisingly helpful at times. (Billy doesn’t realize most of them are just coming to their dad figure for advice)
Such as the time Wonder Woman came to him concerned about time dilation. When Solomon explained what that meant, he had a pretty good idea of what she was talking about. Basically, she was worried about the afterword of the Justice League and her friends and how she would outlive them all. He brought her ice cream and they talked it out. In a way, he supposed he understood her. Billy couldn’t remember his mom or dad’s faces or personalities. He only had Captain Marvel to go off of and he guesses Mary, but she looks more like a young version of their mom. In the end, after much talking and trying to show he understands her worries, she seemed to be doing better.
Then, there was a talk with J’onn. The Martian had confided in not feeling at home with the humans. Not that he blamed him. J’onn had lost his home. So, Billy talked with him. Again, sort of relating. The way the Martian described missing his planet, reminded Billy of how he’d missed his parents. By the end of the talk, the Martian seemed to feel a little lighter after it.
Then, there was this kid.
Little Girl: *sitting on a bench alone*
Marvel: “Hey there, miss. Where are your parents?”
Little Girl: *stares* “There not here.”
Marvel: “Why’s that?” *sits down next to her*
Little Girl: *shrugs*
Marvel: “Well, then do you have any guardians?”
Little Girl: “I think so, but I don’t really like her. She’s mean. I don’t think she likes me or my foster siblings.”
Marvel: “Oh? You’re from foster care?”
Little Girl: *hesitantly nods head*
Marvel: “And I’m guessing you ran away?”
Little Girl: *nods again* “Are you going to tell on me?”
Marvel: “No. I ran away from my foster homes all the time.” *shrugs, doesn’t know why he’s saying this but might as well go with it*
Little Girl: “You did?”
Marvel: “Yeah. They were all terrible. And the ones that weren’t terrible were just neglectful.”
Little Girl: “What does neglectful mean?”
Marvel: “It means not paying attention to something. Like for example, I had this foster parent who would go days without coming home, leaving me and the other kids to have to feed ourselves. She wasn’t paying attention to us or our needs.”
Little Girl: “That’s sad.”
Marvel: “Yeah, it is. So, why did you run away from your foster home?”
Little Girl: “The lady who adopted me throws stuff when she gets mad. She’s mad a lot.”
Marvel: “That sucks. I had a foster home like that too. He would throw a bottles, forks, books, whatever he could get his hands on.”
Little Girl: “You did? Did you think it was scary?”
Marvel: “Yeah.”
*silence*
Marvel: “You know, a friend of mine got adopted recently.”
Little Girl: “Really?”
Marvel: “Yeah, he’s been with them for about half a year now. He says they’re great. They’ve been fostering kids for a while apparently too.”
Little Girl: “That sounds nice.”
Marvel: “It is. Do you want me to ask about it?”
Little Girl: “Huh?”
Marvel: “Do you want me to ask him if there’s any spots open?”
Little Girl: *stares for a bit* “Yeah.” *stomach growls*
Marvel: “Alright, then I will. Now, how long have you been on the streets?”
Little Girl: “Oh uhm… a couple days.”
Marvel: “Come on, let’s get you something to eat.” *stands up*
Little Girl: “Really?” *hops off the bench*
Marvel: “Yeah. You feeling chili dogs or tacos? Those are the only two vendors I know that’ll give me something free.”
Little Girl: “Tacos, please.”
Marvel: “Alright then- uh, my bad. I never asked your name?”
Little Girl: “Oh uhm it’s Darla.”
Marvel: “Darla? Alright then Darla.” *fatherly ahh smile* “Let’s go get you some food, ‘kay?”
So ya. He met Darla. She’s a sweet kid. He would need to ask Freddy more about the Vazquez situation. Hopefully, just hopefully, they could squeeze the little girl into their family.
Also, uh… I guess in this AU, Freddy met the Vazquez and got adopted because he went back into foster care for a bit for whatever reason. There, he got adopted into the family. Darla joins after him for this post to work.
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anniflamma · 3 months ago
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So I’ve received a couple of anonymous messages telling me that they were really disappointed in me for liking Elian's Antinous fanart. Instead of answering them individually, I’m just going to make an angry rant post instead. Most of if probably won't make sense anyway.
This post have talk about SA, and homophobia. Be aware. I don’t ship genuinely Telemachus and Antinous, if that’s what you’re wondering. I didn’t even consider the possibility that ship could even exist. At the end of the day, I don't care about that ship.
And do you want me to explain that I know SA is bad? Or that I’m aware Telemachus/Antinous is a toxic ship? Do you think I’m dumb and don’t know that? You don't have to explain to me either, I know that SA is bad, I have experienced it, you don't have to explain to me, trust me I know.
I like Elian's art because it’s really beautiful. Her work is a huge inspiration and encouragement for me when making animatics. But do I REALLY have to spell out, word for word, that I know Antinous is an antagonist and tries to do bad things? Does it mean every time someone draws Antinous and I like it, I have to explain that I like the drawing because it’s well done, not because I support Antinous’ intent toward Penelope and wants to kill Telemachus?
I mean, I’ve seen tons of thirsty comments like, "I hate how Zeus treats women, but your design is really hot" or "Even if Poseidon SA Demeter, this Poseidon I'd go down on all fours for!"
I have seen some stuff….
I guess I could just imitate something like that????
But I know it’s a joke and I know its a fantasy that someone is expressing. Its not real, its fictional. I know all those thirsty ppl who simp over Poseidon, Zeus, or even Antinous aren’t supporting hatred and violence toward women. And yes, I am expecting that you should already know this too. Because if we gonna assume the worst of ppl… Then everyone who likes Greek myth/Epic the musical are pro SA. "Do you like Crice from Epic the musical? That means that you support her actions, you support SA!" "Oh you like Odysseus?! He killed a baby and all of his female slaves cuz they got SA by the suitors! You support infanticide, slavery and SA!" Do you hear how dumb that sounds? To be honest, I wouldn’t be that surprised if there are some who think like this. I mean, this discussion wouldn’t even be a thing, right.
And if you don’t know, I literally make thirst art of Poseidon (and that includes Zeus and Hermes), and you don’t see it as a bad thing??? It’s Poseidon… Do you know what he has done to women in the myths?!
Im going to ramble here and I will bring up stories from greek myth that have SA in it. So be aware.
One example is the story of Caeneus. When Caeneus was a woman, his parents left him to take care of the house while they were out running errands. Poseidon took that as an opportunity to break into the house and sexually assault him. This is probably the only myth where Poseidon actually feels bad after what he did, so he grants Caeneus a wish. Aww, how sweet~~~ /sarcasm.
Do I need to give an example of Zeus? We all know what Zeus does. But hey, I’ve made Poseidon/Hermes ship art. And guess what? There’s a story where Hermes breaks a woman’s leg so she can’t run away from him, and then he sexually assaults her. Isn’t that cute~~! /sarcasm
Heck, I can even go on with my biblical ships. David/Jonathan—David, a serial assaulter and murderer, and Jonathan, a mass murderer. But do I support their actions? No, I do not support mass murder, and its really dumb that I have to spell it out for you.
Daniel/Darius is even questionable too! It's literally a king and his servant, and that power imbalance is so big I don’t know what to tell you! Do I have to spell it out that I know that, in real life, king/servant relationships aren’t cute at all?!
All of these characters that I’ve listed have done or represent horrible things. And I have to tell you that I don't support their actions?! Really? You really can't think outside the box?
But do you see what I’m trying to tell you? We can simp over other ancient mythological figures but Antinous is the red line that we can never cross??? It’s hypocritical and immature, that’s what it is.
Right now, ppl loves the Ody seduces Zeus art I made. And that "ship" is well really questionable too! But nobody have called me a witch and tries to burn me at the stake yet. 😐
And the thing is, I can separate these fictional characters from the real world. I can also separate the fictional material from other fictional interpretations. Exemple, I like The Song of Achilles, in it, they are the same age, but I am also aware that in the Iliad, Achilles is 16 and Patroclus is 26. But do I automatically assume that Madeline Miller likes teens? No! Do I assume that everyone who likes The Song Of Achilles like that shit? No!
But we still can have a disscussion about it without making it into a witch trial.
As long as we can separate different fictional materials, then everything is fine. It only becomes a problem if a person can’t separate them. Then we have a problem. I can acknowledge that my depiction of King David from the bible is not the same as from the original story and that he is horrible person towards women. If I couldn't acknowledge that, then its bad! The same goes for Antinous if someone makes an AU or headcanon about him. If someone want so make AUs about Antinous, my first thoughts isnt "Oh they like to SA ppl!". At the end of the day, this is just a group from tiktok who didn’t like a toxic ship and decided to bully an artist while acting like they have superior morals.
And I get this type of shit from christians when I make my queer bible interpitations, both from those that don't like the queer stuff but also those that points out that David and Jonathan were horrible ppl.
So I rarely answer comments like this because they usually end up spewing beliefs filled with homophobia and Islamophobia. Heck rasism sometimes, apparently, Christians don’t know that the Bible takes place in the Middle East, and they are angry at me for drawing them looking like Arabs! I just delete their comments before they gets there. Making queer biblical animatics on TikTok that go viral on the Christian side is not fun at all guys....
And hate to say it but tiktok Epic fans sound really similar. You are acting like you’re on a pedestal, holier than thou. Its just a different font.
+ I haven’t forgotten all those homophobic comments I got on my David/Jonathan animatic that I posted right after my Ruthlessness animatic. Epic fans were saying they didn’t want “that gay shit” and wanted to see more Epic stuff. Hate to break it to you all, but the Epic fandom isn’t that innocent.
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yourneighborlyweirdo · 3 months ago
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The Easiest Way to Manifest/The Ultimate Beginner’s Guide to Manifesting! (My Personal Method)
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What if I told you there was a way to instantly manifest whatever you’ve ever wanted?
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I’m talking like, you think it and it appears minutes (or even seconds with practice) right before your eyes?
If you’re interested, this is how.
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Introduction:
So, let’s get into it. Hey, if you don’t know me, I’m kinda new here on Tumblr—new like I just started posting today type shit. (I literally set up my account hours ago.) I’ve been scrolling on this app for atleast a month now and I’ve been seeing some posts that are pretty helpful, so I just want to give my personal advice to any of those who are struggling. (Because that used to be me.) I wanna start this off with a warning…
Warning: If this doesn’t resonate with you, take what you like and leave the rest. If my advice doesn’t help you out it doesn’t have to! And don’t force yourself to use my technique if it feels weird to do or something you aren’t comfortable with. But if my method doesn’t work for you, (which I highly doubt because this can work with anyone and everyone) then maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. And also, I am not a professional. I am merely a vessel trying to pass my knowledge on to others. But, I do consider myself a Master at Manifesting, only because I’ve Mastered it. And my only goal is to help you Master it too. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to drop a comment or a DM. Thanks!
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The Law:
In this technique, I will be using the Law of Assumption. If you’re not sure what this is, let me explain…
The Law of Assumption is a universal Law for manifestation. As the name suggests, it means assuming. Everything you assume will become your reality. Practicing the Law of Assumption means realizing that the 4D (Your mental reality, your imagination) is the only thing that matters, not your 3D (Your physical reality, the thing you’re seeing right in front of your 2 eyes.)
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(Side Note: I use “LOA” to abbreviate/shorten “Law of Assumption.” Both of these terms will be highlighted in pink for your understanding. Also, the 4D is your imagination and the 3D is the physical world around you. I suggest you remember these terms.)
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An Example Scenario of Using The Law:
Example: Let’s say, I really want a soda. But I’m laying down in my bed, so obviously, I can’t see a soda in front of me. But, using the LOA, I can get my soda. Here’s how…
So, I’m sitting here in my bed really wishing I had a soda in my hands. To manifest a soda, I will use the LOA. To use the LOA, I will either think or speak out loud, whatever you want to do, to manifest. I will start thinking. “Damn. I really want a soda right now. I know I’ll get my soda. I want it so I can get it. I will have my soda, one way or another.” And a couple minutes later, I got a text from my parent saying they brought me a soda from the gas station. (Yes this example is a true story on how I started manifesting using the LOA for the first time.)
If you’re not picking up what I’m putting down, let me break it down. Here’s what just happened in that example:
1. I really wanted something (in this case the “something” was a soda)
2. I started to think about how I wanted it, then I assumed that I would get it, one way or another.
3. Boom! I got my desire. (Which was the soda in this case.)
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Breaking It Down:
See how easy that was? Within minutes I got my desire in only 3 easy steps. If you’re still confused, let me explain…
What happened there was I identified what I wanted (AKA: My desire being something I wanted.) Then, I used the LOA to manifest my desire to becoming my reality. Then naturally, the 3D followed what I thought in my 4D.
Literally the only thing I did was think what I wanted to happen and it happened in front of my eyes.
You: “But why? But how? How is that even possible—”
What happened was I thought something in my imagination (my 4D) and the physical world (the 3D) conformed because the 4D will always be in charge of the 3D.
Think of the 3D as a chief in a restaurant. The 4D is the waiter, and you are a customer in that restaurant. Let’s say you wanted to manifest a soda, so you’d say, “Waiter! I would like one soda please.” And the waiter, (The 4D) writes down in his notepad that you ordered a soda. The waiter would then go to the back and go tell the chief (The 3D) what you ordered, and then the chief would make it, and then you would get it.
That’s what the 3D and 4D are. You’d “tell the waiter what you want to order” (AKA: Think in your brain using your imagination/4D what you want to manifest) Then the “chief would cook up what you ordered and you’d get your order.” (AKA: The 3D will make what you manifested happen in your physical world and your manifestation would appear in front of your eyes.)
Hopefully now you understand what the LOA is, how to use it, and what happens when you do use it.
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What Happens When I Manifest Something and The 3D doesn’t conform?
Let me say this now: That is impossible. It is impossible for your 3D to not conform to the 4D. The 3D only will NOT conform when you ASSUME it won’t.
Your assumptions will become your reality. To change your assumptions, use your thoughts and imagination, (AKA: the 4D) and your 4D will become your 3D.
Assumptions are thoughts. Thoughts are your reality.
Read those 2 sentences again until they are memorized.
Don’t you see? Do you understand how easy it is?
So let’s say, you manifested something, imagined it (using the 4D) and it didn’t appear right infront of your eyes. Don’t panic. It’s okay. Take a breather, and tell yourself that you will get your desire. You imagined it in the 4D, and after reading this post, you’re sure that the 3D will conform because it WILL. Just persist in the fact that you WILL get your desire.
(Do you get what I’m saying here? Assume, assume, assume. Assume you will get your desire. Assume it will come quickly. Assume that it’s easy because it is! When in doubt, assume, assume, assume.)
If you don’t get your desire, it’s because you’re assuming (AKA: Thinking) that it won’t. Assume that you can and will manifest, and it will.
The 3D DOES NOT MATTER. You know why? Because, I’ll repeat,
Assumptions are thoughts. Thoughts are your reality.
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A Step By Step Tutorial:
1. Identify what you want to manifest.
2. Assume it will happen by thinking.
3. You get your desire.
You can assume things many ways. Here are my favorite ways in the form of sentences:
1. Assuming it will happen in the future. (Example: Using sentences containing “I Will.” Sentences in the future tense. “I know I will get desire one way or another.”)
2. Assuming it will happen in the present. (Example: You use sentences containing “I Am.”Sentences in the present tense. “I have my desire.”)
3. Assuming it already happened in the past. (Example: You use sentences containing “I Had.” Sentences in the past tense. This is also referred to as “Living in the End.” “I already have my desire.”)
Remember that all of these ways are ways to manifest. There is no better one than the other—use what works best for you! (I personally use all 3 ways all the time. They all work the same way and for me, not one is better then the other. They’re all great and they all work. Use what works best for you!!! Don’t let anyone tell you one works better then the other because that’s simply not true. I’ve manifested using all three and so can you!)
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*
Summary And Last Thoughts:
In order to manifest, you only need to figure out what you want to manifest, then think about it as an assumption, (one of the 3 ways I listed above, using a Past, Present, or Future sentence) and then just wait knowing you will get your desire.
Notice how in this post I never covered the “how” or the “when.” (The only “how” I covered was how manifestation works with the 4D and 3D, nothing beyond that.) Because you don’t need to focus on those things! Focus on manifesting, NOT how it happens or when. The only time you should be focusing on the when is when you are manifesting your desire to come quicker.
Also notice how in this post, it was a continuous cycle of…
Thoughts=Assumptions
Thoughts+Assumptions=Your Desired Reality
Anyone can manifest. And this isn’t the only way to manifest, this is one method of many. It’s easy when you assume it’s easy!
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:· ·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*
I hope this post helped atleast someone. Have a good evening, morning, or afternoon. If you have a question or concern, feel free to drop a comment or send a DM.
The ultimate Law of Assumption song (You deserve your manifestation and that’s why you should get it!)
⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️
Sincerely,
Your Neighborly Werido
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