#new age rodrick heffley

[lodeddiperactivate]

I hate you more! | Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Author's note: So not sure if people still read Rodrick Heffley fics but I had this idea (and could not find something similar that's already written) where the reader decides to sabotage Rodrick from getting it on with Heather. Reader is at the top of the highschool food chain and is friends with Heather, but hates Rodrick so she sabotages him. A classic enemies to lovers!

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

You feel like you've been living a double life. You get straight As because, well, your allowance is tied to your grades. But what most people don't know is that you typically sneak out at night to hang with your boyfriend. Well, ex-boyfriend. You smoke, you party, you skip town without your parents ever knowing. But during the day, you looked like someone who goes to church every Sunday. In fact, you're quite impressed at how you're handling this double life. You learned, at a young age, that all there is to life is observing the people around you, and using those observations to your advantage.

Well, you thought to yourself, it's time to test these theories all over again as you move into a new town, new school, new classmates, and new friends. Unfortunately for you, your new neighbor doesn't seem to grasp the idea of a nice and quiet Sunday morning. You decided to pay them a visit, and maybe remind them that their garage isn't soundproof enough for the noise coming out of it.

You walked up to the door and gave 3 loud and firm knocks, waited a couple of seconds until you hear footsteps.

You expect the mom to open the door, which is why you brought cookies as a means to be a good new neighbor but you were greeted by a tall and dark-haired guy with eyeliner. He eyed you up and down in frustration before landing his gaze on the plate of cookies in your hand.

"What do you want?"

You forced yourself to be civil. "I just came here to give you cookies. We just moved in next door when I heard this sound coming from-"

"Yeah yeah, thanks for the cookies!" And with that, he slammed the door in your face. The audacity! You scoffed and started to walk away. The noise had not died down, and you walked away not believing how rude and ill-mannered your new neighbor was. God, if it means hearing this noise every weekend, you might beg your parents to move again.

~

First day of school. You were pretty confident with your social skills so highschool is a cake walk for you. Living a double life means you ought to know how to act in certain situations.

First period. You were introduced to the whole class. Your introduction was amazing. Everybody loved you. You had come into that room, dressed to impressed, and you even cracked a joke that made everyone laugh. Well, everyone except for your neighbor who's in all of your classes by the way. He was too busy talking about his band to basically anyone who's not deaf. What's worst is that you're sitting behind him.

Because of your peak social skills, you were sitting with Heather that day for lunch and apparently, they're at the top of the highschool food chain so that works for you too. You also learned that your neighbor, Rodrick, obviously had a crush on Heather. Since you sit behind him, and Heather sits beside him, you have observed all of the tell-tale signs that he's desperately in love with her. You smirked at the idea, and the endless possibilities of making his life a living hell.

~

School bell rang and everyone hurriedly packed their belongings. Heather asked if you wanted to go to the mall. You agreed and she told you to meet her upfront. Rodrick obviously heard this, and based from his expression, he was surprised that Heather and you are that close already. When everyone had left the room, you called out to Rodrick to set your plans of destroying his life in motion.

"Hey"

"Heyyy," he asked, curious why you were talking to him after he slammed the door in your face. He decided that it would be nice to at least be on your good side since you're friends with Heather so he started with an apology, "Listen, about what happened, I'm sorry but Sunday is the only time I can practice with my band. It's hard work, you know."

You smirked at his half-ass apology but mostly because you can see right through him, but you had a mission, "Oh don't worry about it! Actually, I wanted to tell you that Heather has a message for you."

As soon as you mentioned Heather's name, it was like something inside him had turned on. "Yes?"

"She's too shy to tell you this herself but she kinda has a crush on you. But she can't be too obvious because you know, in dating, guys make the first move, right?"

"Yeah," he said trying to comprehend every word you just uttered.

"Yes, so she doesn't want to go out with someone who did not officially ask her out. You know?"

"Yeah!" He said again as if he had solved a puzzle in his head.

"Okay, so tomorrow at lunch, why don't you "officially" ask her out?"

"Yeah?"

Jesus. You couldn't comprehend how slow this moron is in front of you. You were practically spoon-feeding him. You decided to repeat what you said just to make sure he gets it.

"Tomorrow. At lunch. Ask Heather out?"

"Yes. Okay, I can do that." He said trying to hype himself up.

You walked away feeling good about your plan when you decided to add one final touch to it. You looked back and called out to Rodrick.

"Oh, and don't forget, Heather looooves grand gestures!"

[dark-vader28]

New Girl

pairing: rodrick heffley x fem!reader

summary: Reader and her family are new in town, the heffleys invite them over for dinner as a welcome, blah blah blah, rodrick offers to give reader a drum lesson and makes a fool of himself doing everything in his power to impress you

warnings: swearing? tooth-rotting fluff. pls this is my first fic so im sorry if this is terrible, not rlly proofread

Your family had just moved in to Plainview, settled in a cozy home on the corner of the street. Once summer ended, you’d attend Crossland High School as a senior while your younger brother, Jake, would be starting 7th grade at Westmore Middle School. You dreaded school, even in the years you lived in your hometown, surrounded by your friends. Now that you were the new girl, you were sure it’d be all the more worse.

Your younger brother, Jake, on the other hand, made company so easy and made it seem like starting a conversation was as easy as knowing your own name. Sure, he wasn’t very popular, but he never went a year without a new friend or even a whole new group. You were sure he’d already be making friends on the walk to school.

While you were staring at your packed bag that you refused to unpack, in denial that your family had really moved, when the doorbell rang, echoing through the still house. Your attention was diverted and you snuck out your room, quietly walking to the railing by the stairs where you could have a clear view of the front door. You crouched down, hoping you wouldn’t be seen as you watched your mother strut to the door. The door swung open and there was a friendly smile waiting behind, holding some tupperware in her arms.

You were watching and listening, hardly moving or even breathing as they talked. The woman at the door, whose name you heard was Susan Heffley, was welcoming your family to Plainview. You heard them suggest a dinner this weekend so they could meet each other’s families; your mother had mentioned yours and your brother’s age which coincidentally were the same as the Heffleys. You let out a groan as your mom agreed to the dinner.

Mrs. Heffley left a few moments later, wishing your mother another welcome with a gentle smile before walking out the door. Surely she seemed nice but having to attend to dinner with a family you didn’t know was a long dreaded thought of yours.

The rest of the week seemed to go slow as you anticipated the inevitable dinner. You were also attempting to accept the fact that you were truly stuck in Plainview now unless you decided to move out and away when you turned 18, but you knew the thought was pointless considering it meant you’d have to be prepared by then.

When Saturday rolled around, you had finally unpacked your bag, trying to be a little more positive about living here. But that was a lie. Truth was your mom hounded you about living out of a suitcase and told you off for not unpacking. Not wanting to get in any more trouble, you hurriedly unpacked that night, throwing a pair of jeans and some shirt on your bed in the process for you to wear to dinner.

It was 5:50 and you were scrambling to finish up the last of your makeup and hair. If there was one thing your dad hated, it was being late, and you would likely be the cause of it. You had postponed getting ready for so long, procrastinating until there were few minutes to spare. You weren’t sure why you cared so much about your appearance, assuming that you would never talk to that family after tonight.

Jake’s fist pounded on your bathroom door, causing you to jump from the unexpected burst of noise. You nearly burnt yourself with the straightener you were holding. You quickly set it down and swung the door open. You were ready to scold your younger brother but he spoke before you.

“Mom and Dad said we’re leaving now, why aren’t you ready?” he asked. You rolled your eyes and pushed him away from the door, closing it.

“Just one more minute!” you shouted from the other side of the door. He knocked on the door a few more times and when you refused to answer, he gave up, grumbling something under his breath as he ran down the stairs.

A minute turned into two, then three, and then it was 5:59 and your dad was knocking on the door. You turned off the straightener and unplugged it, checking your reflection one last time before hurrying out the bathroom.

Considering how close your houses were, your family walked to the Heffley’s house. Right before the clock turned 6:01, your family was at the door, ringing the bell. You heard a few hushed murmurs from the other side of the door before the same familiar face that had come to your house before swung open the door.

Mrs. Heffley welcomed you in, closing the door behind you. A man, who you could only assume was Mr. Heffley, stood next to Mrs. Heffley, extending out a hand towards your father, then your mother.

“Frank Heffley,” the man introduced, smiling politely. He shook your hand and then Jake’s as Mrs. Heffley introduced herself and the littlest brother, Manny, that she held in her arms.

Then, bounding down the stairs comes a boy, somewhere between 11-13. He comes to a stop next to Mrs. Heffley and wears a nervous smile.

“And his is my second eldest son, Greg,” Mrs. Heffley beams. One after another, you all shake his hand, introducing yourselves. “Greg, you and Jake are both in seventh grade so maybe you’ll make good friends,” Mrs. Heffley comments. Jake smiles a little and Greg is hesitant to return the smile, unsure if he likes your brother.

Mrs. Heffley turns to Greg, whispering something private to him while your father exchanges pleasantries with his father, earning a warm smile from your mother. Greg shrugged at whatever Mrs. Heffley had said to him and she frowned.

It wasn’t long before another set of footsteps came running down the steps, this time a tall boy with dark, messed and fluffed up hair, wearing some graphic tee tucked only in the front behind a pair of dark jeans. He looked your age and from the conversation you had overheard earlier that week, you knew he was your age. But… what did that matter? You had no intent on talking to this family again.

“And this is Rodrick,” Mrs. Heffley introduced, not sounding nearly as enthusiastic as she had been when introducing Greg and Manny. The smile she wore seemed fake as she glared and Rodrick and nudged him. He looked confused, shooting her a look before he noticed my father’s outstretched hand. He shook my parents’ hands as we were all introduced once more, thankfully for the last time. You seemed to catch Rodrick’s eye, and your name was the only one he seemed to remember. He repeated your name in his head, making sure it stuck in his memory. The other names faded from his mind as your families walked to the dining table. A few extra chairs had been added to fit your family, which sat on one side as the Heffley family sat on the other. You faced Rodrick with Jake on your right and your mother on your left. This was already the longest evening of your time in Plainview.

Mrs. Heffley was bringing a plate of food as your fathers chatted away. Rodrick, Greg, and Jake were quick to pile heaping amounts onto their plates. You were the last to go for food, not expecting to eat much since you didn’t have much of an appetite that night.

The parent side of the table was lively, laughter filling the air while it was nothing but the tap or light scrape of the metal forks against the plate on your side of the table. Jake didn’t seem to mind, happily eating away at his food, nearly to the point of asking for seconds. You had picked at the homemade food, taking a few bites ever so often. It smelt amazing, almost giving you your appetite back.

But the worst part of the night wasn’t how they were strangers you were having dinner with, or how empty and silent your half of the table was, but rather how you kept finding Rodrick’s eyes. They were awkward glances where you’d both be caught looking at one another and you’d both avert your gaze as quickly as it had been found. It kickstarted your heart every time, sending a wave of embarrassment flooding through you which was shown through in the heat rising to your face. You were praying someone on your end of the table would feel the silence and ease the tension but with every glance you and Rodrick stole, the atmosphere felt heavier.

The buzz from the other side of the table faded, leaving a few painful moments of entire silence before your dad spoke, speaking to Rodrick this time.

“Was that your van outside?” your dad inquired, hoping to spark up a conversation after noticing the deafening silence.

Rodrick stole another look at you on his way to address your father. He nodded, shifting in his seat a little. The silence was beginning to make its dreaded reappearance and in a desperate attempt to prevent it, you foolishly decided to keep the conversation rolling.

“What’s the name painted on it?” you asked, and Rodrick’s eyes had quickly fallen away from your father to meet you.

“Löded Diper, the name of my band,” Rodrick replied proudly. You attempted to repress a smile. The name was ridiculous and it had you holding back a laugh but something about the confidence and the happiness in his tone made you forget the name and brought a grin to your lips.

“A band, huh? What do you play?” you questioned, shifting in your seat, leaning forward so your attention was nowhere but him. His lips curved up into a smile as his movement mimicked yours, facing you. You could see Susan and your mom smile at each other, gushing at how suddenly you and Rodrick were getting along.

“Drums,” he answered, and the other conversations resumed from the parent side of the table. Greg and Jake were silently watching you and Rodrick talk, both shocked that you had even acknowledged him. Jake knew you weren’t one to engage like this upon first meeting someone, especially not with someone like Rodrick. And Greg was sure you were way out of Rodrick’s league, whether it was from a relationship or even friendship standpoint. Greg and Jake seemed to read each other’s minds and started talking, filling the once silent half of the room with chatter.

“I always wanted to learn drums,” you commented sheepishly, breaking the eye contact you had been holding. He seemed to light up at that, sitting up a little taller.

“I could teach you,” he blurted out, rather loudly. Everyone seemed to glance at him for a moment before ignoring it and resuming their conversations. You found his gaze again and a smile crept on your lips.

“Really?” you asked. He nodded, and your smile curved into a smirk. “Well, of course, you’d have to been good at drums to teach somebody. Prove you’re any good and maybe then you can teach me.” He paused for a moment before he chuckled, leaning back in his chair as his once awkward demeanor became cocky.

“No no no, i’d be doing you a favour. And i don’t need to prove anything. I’m a great drummer. Right, Greg?” Rodrick asked, hitting Greg on the chest. Greg hadn’t been paying attention but held his chest where he had been hit as he nodded, agreeing to whatever Rodrick had asked. “See?” You rolled your eyes, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth to hide your smile.

“The poor kid is terrified of you,” you chuckled. You turned to Greg this time. “Don’t take any of his shit.” Greg smiled brightly and Rodrick seemed flustered that you hadn’t taken his side.

“Oh, come on, I’ve never done anything to him,” Rodrick defended. He wasn’t a great liar. You glanced at Rodrick before looking back at Greg, raising your eyebrows.

“Is he telling the truth?” you asked. Greg shot a look at Rodrick before laughing and shaking his head. You giggled. Rodrick’s face was turning red and he shoved Greg again.

“Dude! Deny, deny, deny!” Rodrick pestered, pushing Greg. Another laughter escaped your lips.

“So you admit you were lying!” Rodrick froze, his face dropping.

With the exception of Rod, your side of the table was in a fit of laughter. The other side had stilled, admiring how well you seemed to be getting along despite Rodrick being the butt of the joke. He’d felt embarrassed for a moment but hearing your laughter had a bright grin spreading across his face which eventually broke out into laughter. Your stomach and face started to hurt from laughing for too long and you let a few desperate pants as you leaned back in your seat, arms wrapped around your stomach.

Over an hour had passed and your families couldn’t have been getting along better. Greg and Rodrick had told you endless amounts of stories. You learned about The Cheese Touch and the thought of it made you gag, imagining that moldy cheese sitting on the dirty hot blacktop for years.

You asked Rodrick about his band, which he went on and on about until Greg told him to can it. Rodrick might’ve hit him again if Mrs. Heffley hadn’t glanced over at them and scolded Rodrick.

Nearing the end of your time with the Heffleys, you hesitantly asked Rodrick if he was serious about the drum lesson. Sure, your reason was purely because you had always wanted to learn how to play but it seemed as the night went on, your reason was slipping to wanting to see Rodrick again. You didn’t want to have to wait until summer’s end to be with him. He didn’t seem like the greatest influence and you were already sure your parents weren’t too fond of him, but something about him had you drawn towards him like a moth to light.

The Heffleys were escorting your family to the door, chatter still in the air, when you turned to Rodrick. You swallowed the lump in your throat and prayed your voice would come out normal.

“So… about that drum lesson,” you started, not meeting his eyes, but you still saw the smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“Tomorrow?” he suggested quickly, stopping to face you. You looked up, your brow slightly furrowed. “O-or another day. I mean-” He was blabbering, trying not to sound eager or desperate and a grin stretched across your lips.

“Tomorrow sounds great,” you replied. He relaxed, smiling a little.

“Yeah, yeah, cool,” he mumbled, pretending to sound uninterested. You pushed him gently and he couldn’t hide the smile. You rolled your eyes at him, a light laugh falling from your lips. That sound would be stuck in his brain all night as he lied awake, admiring you and feeling like he had dreamed you up cause he wasn’t sure someone like you could be real.

Your family said their goodbyes to the Heffleys as the four of you walked out the door. You headed home, unable to lose the smile of excitement as you thought about your plans for tomorrow. You were so distracted in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed your parents talking to you until your brother nudged you to snap you out of your daze.

“Are you alright?” your mom asked worriedly, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. You flashed her a smile and nodded. “Well, how was your night then? Did you like them?” Then to your father, “I thought they were nice, don’t you think?” Then back to you. “How was Rodrick? I was a little worried he was a bad influence.” If you hadn’t stepped in, your mom might’ve pestered with you questions until the end of the night.

“It was fun. I had a good time,” you reassured. She smiled as you reached your front steps.

When you finally got back to your room, you reveled in the once dreaded house that seemed like a punishment. You were now filled with anticipation, wishing it would be Sunday already so you’d get to see Rodrick again. Your mind hadn’t decided what was so endearing about him. Maybe it was his desperate, miserable attempts to impress you that made you nearly giggle like a school girl or his dark shaggy hair that fell in messy strands. But you didn’t let yourself think about that for too long, saving yourself from falling down that rabbit hole.

As the cool air from your open window filled the room and the pale moonlight danced across your skin, you were coaxed into sleep, smiling as you thought about your night.

Maybe Plainview wasn’t as bad as you had believed it to be.

————————————————————————————

a/n: well… first fic ig. i’m sorry if this is complete shit. i just felt like i should post something after having this account for 6 months and posting nothing. there are a few requests in my inbox that i do intend on getting to at some point i promise, im just a little slow with all of this 😭 let me know what you think and if you want more of these!

[hypegirl1]

In my dreams(Rodrick Heffley X Fem!reader)

AN:WASSUP Y´ALL?I had no inspiration to write these last months,I´m sorry,but I finally got it back lmfao I basically had a breakdown while listening to In my Dreams by RV and ended up having inspiration,damn...(This is proof read so dw,also I have no idea why tf this is so long) Summary:You´ve been in town for a few weeks since you moved,however,Rodrick doesn´t notice until one day,when he sees you on the school hallway Word count:1786 Warnings:Language(Ig?) Genre:Fluff(Ig)

"Nah dude,last week was amazing,what do you mean?"

"I know dude,but like,what about the girls?We don´t get bitches"

That´s the conversation Rodrick was having with his friends at the school´s entrance,the infamous Rodrick Heffley.It hasn´t even been a month since you arrived and you already knew pretty much everything about him:he had 2 little brothers,was the drummer of a band he made,was never that smart and he loved messing around with people,well,pretty much an average teenager,right? He lived in front of your house,and you always saw him at school(when he went),never talked at all,not even a "hi,who are you?never saw you around". It looked like he never realized you were there,but at the end,you didn´t cared,until now.

"Bro,I´m telling you,when we become famous,we will get A LOOOT of bitches"

"Yeaah"

That´s the last thing they said before Rodrick bumped into someone for not looking.

"Hey!Watch your-step"

"Sorry,I was rushing and didn´t saw you,are you okay?"

That´s when Rodrick realized that the girl that bumped into him,was one that he never saw around before,was he dreaming?

"Yeah yeah,sorry,I was in the way"

Damn,is it hot in here?

"I´m glad,I have to go,see you around Rodrick!"

"Bye..."

Rodrick was just standing there like a lamp post,what just happened?

"Dude,you good?"

"Yeah yeah,it´s just...who´s that girl?I never saw her around"

"Y/N?She moved into your neighbourhood a few weeks ago,you didn´t realized?"

"What?She´s been living next to my house and I didn´t realized?"

"Dude chill,just say hi to her"

"As if it was that easy..."

The bell rang,that meant that the day was over,everyone started filling the hallways,Rodrick got in his van and headed home as quickly as possible,they were right,the house in front of the Heffley´s now belonged to your family,how come he didn´t realized?

"Uhh mum,who are our neigbhors?"

"You mean the Y/L/N´s?"(your last name)

"Yeah,them"

"Oh,they have 2 daughters I think,Y/N and Kelsey are their names,If I´m not wrong Y/N is your same age and Kelsey is about Greg´s age,why the question?"

"Just asking"

Damn,your house was literally in front of Rodrick´s,how come he didn´t realized?is it because he nevers pay attention to the stuff that he doesn´t care about?Oh but he did cared now,what should he do?Go over to your house to just say hi?Invite you to have dinner with his family?No way,you had been in town for a few weeks now,and it was too soon to get you to meet his disaster family...He had been thinking in his room about what to do for the last 10 minutes,until he realized that he left his bedroom door open,and saw that Greg was there spying on him.

"What the fuck do you think you´re doing here?!"

Greg panicked and started running towards his room,but Rodrick had already started to chase him,he was lucky that he locked his door just in time.

"Where you spying me?!"

"Maybe-I mean no!"

"You better open this door if you want to live Greggy"

"I saw you earlier talking with mom about the new neighbours and got curious that´s it!"

Wait,hold on,maybe Greg new something that he didn´t?

"Do you know them?"

"Yes,Kelsey is in the same class as me,she´s nice,I could say she´s my friend now"

"And do you know something about her sister?"

"Why should I tell you that?"

"Greg I swear to god that if you don´t tell me I´m breaking down your door"

"Okay okay!But don´t do that please.I always see her sister after school,she picks Kelsey up because her parents don´t get home til night,as far as I know,she´s super nice,she always offers to take us and Rowley home"

"And?"

"That´s all I know!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes! I promise!"

"Fine,tomorrow I´ll go pick you up and your other guy friend from school"

"What?no way,I´ll preffer to go by feet"

"I said that you´re coming with me"

Greg knew that his older brother had something going on in his mind,but it probably was worse if he said a word.Good,he had some basic info about you,but what else?The plan was that tomorrow,he would show up to pick up his little loved brother,he had to give you good vibes and not the type of guy that is 24/7 bickering with his brother,wait,maybe it was too late?I mean,you already knew a lot about him,how would you react if you suddenlt saw him as a perfect man instead of the angsty boy he is?Meh,It doesn´t matter,people change all the time.Of course,he could talk to you at school,but you weren´t in the same class as him,and let´s say that he wasn´t that brave enough to talk to you at school.

The rest of the day went by as usual,except for the fact that Rodrick looked super distracted in today´s rehearsal for Löded Diper,he was barely able to start the song,his friends were worried,this wasn´t usual in him,and all just because he couldn´t get your pretty image off of his head,your figure,your hair,your eyes,your lips,he remembered everything as if it depended on his life.

But it just got worse when he saw you there,you where at the entrance of your school,sitting on the stairs,writing on your notebook,you looked so dreamy,the day was sunny and clear as glass,your hair flowing with the little wind that was coming,the way your top and shorts hugged your figure,so unbothered by the rest of the people around you,on your own little world,you looked so unreal...

You felt that someone was watching you,and as you turned back you saw him.

"Rod!What are you doing there?Come sit with me!"

You gave him what was probably the sweetest smile he ever saw,he could melt any moment.

"What?Oh sorry"

He sat next to you,he was nervous,why were you being so nice to him?

"Are you okay?You look nervous,is something bothering you?"

"No no it´s just that...you´re so pretty Y/N,I could stare at you for hours and not get bored"

"Aww you´re so sweet,since when are you so romantic?You didn´t told me those things when we started dating,I love this side of yours"

Wait,dating?No way,since when does the school loser date a pretty girl like you?Did he had amnesia or something?

"Wait,dating?"

"What?Rod are you okay?Yes,for a month now,are you sure you´re fine?"

He couldn´t believe your words,this was so unreal,when did this happened?

"I swear I´m fine,it´s just that- sometimes it´s unbelievable for me to know that I have the most perfect girl in my life"

Now he had no idea what he was talking about or since when he speaks like this,this situation was kinda weird,but it all changed when he heard someone from a distance calling his name.

"Rodrick?Rodrick,come on,Rodrick!"

Suddenly he was at his room,and that´s when reality hit him,he was just dreaming about you...

"Rodrick you´re gonna be late for school come on,get up"

His dad left the room,leaving a sad yet happy Rodrick,he was happy in that dream,but after waking up,damn,he missed that...

This was probably the first time ever that Rodrick got dressed in a nice way only to go to school,he tried really hard,he had to give you a good impression about him,but let´s say that his parents and his younger brother Greg were kinda concerned when they saw him like that...

At school,he only saw you at the time between classes,but you did say hi to him everytime you saw him at the hallways,he was too stunned to say hi back,damn...

And as the day ended,you got on your car on the way to your sister´s school to pick her up as usual,when you got there,she was talking with her friends.

You parked and got off the car and walked to Kelsey,she was laughing with her friends.

"Kelsey,come on let´s go home,give me your backpack"

"Y/N!"

She hugged you as strong as she could,since she was born she always saw you as her idol,she thought you were perfect,even though you didn´t saw yourself like that,you wished that puberty didn´t made your little sister hate you,but as things looked like,that wasn´t going to happen.

"Do you guys need me to take you home?It´s kinda hot today"

"No need Y/N,but thanks,my brother will pick us up"

"Are you sure?If you guys don´t want to wait here I could take you home real quick"

"No need thanks,here he comes"

And he did,as Greg finished talking,a white van parked next to the school,black letters on one side that said "Löded Diper",Rodrick´s van

"Greggy!My dear brother,how are you doing?"

Rodrick petted Greg´s head,leaving him with his hair like a bird´s nest

"I´m-fine I guess"

"It´s the first time I see you pick up your little brother from school"

"Y/N?What a surprise!"

You could tell that something was off,he seemed nervous,uncomfortable.

"Hey!I wasn´t expecting to see you here,you know Greg always walks home"

"Oh well It´s because-I´m always in a rush you know?"

"Yeah,next time,don´t be scared to say hi to me in the hallways,I don´t bite you know?"

Oh god,you realized that he never said hi back,of course you realized,you´re not dumb,what has he thinking?

"Uhm,Greg you can get in the car,I´m going to talk with Y/N for a moment"

"Okay?-"

"You go Kelsey,I´ll be there now,so,what did you wanted to tell me?"

"Uhm well,you have been in town for a few weeks now,and I never introduced myself properly"

"Neither I did,don´t worry,I should have introduced me first before saying hi to you without you knowing who I am"

"Oh,fine then haha"

"Should we start over?I´m Y/N,your neighbor,I like shopping and going outside,how about you?"

"I´m Rodrick,your new neighbor"

Suddenly,there was a very awkward silence,usually you knew how to get out of these,but there was something that didn´t let you speak or say something.

"Uhm...yeah that´s it"

"Yeah!cool cool..."

Silence...just silence...oh god why was this happening?

"Well...I have to leave,I gotta take Kelsey home,see you tomorrow!"

"Sure!"

You started walking towards your car,and before opening the door you heard Rodrick´s voice calling as he ran towards you.

"Y/N wait!"

"Yeah?"

"I...gotta tell you something else"

"Well tell me"

"I-i like you"

"Wha-what?"

"Don´t take this weird!But,I didn´t knew who you were til yesterday when we bumped into each other,it was love at first sight,I´m not looking for an answer or something,you can act as if this never happened,but I just want to tell you that in my dreams,you loved me back"

That was...weird?no,it was romantic,no,weird,so many emotions started to cross your mind,he dreamed about having you?

"Rodrick I-"

"No,I´ll just leave"

He started to walk away,leaving a confused you behind him.You knew why you said hi to him at school,you wanted to know him better,there was a spark in him that you never saw before.

"Rodrick wait!"

He turned around,looking at you.

"I didn´t answered.Meet me today at 4pm at the park,maybe...we can get your dream to come true"

[iamdeceived]

Your drummer neighbor.

⚠️Hey, welcome! There are no warnings for this story.⚠️

🐝Pay me a visit on Instagram🐝

🌹Personal Instagram: @vic_m.d 🌹

🌹Arts Instagram: @vic_tia_mai 🌹

➡️The gender in this story was not mentioned⬅️

⚠️English is not my first language, so forgive me for any mistakes in this story.⚠️

💜¡Good reading!💜

You and your family were new to the neighborhood. You were happy with the change, despite being a little afraid of the new things that were to come. You found your school very interesting, and your neighbors were very welcoming and warm. Especially a certain family who visited you the day you and your family moved. The Heffley family.

Susan is the focused and caring mother, Frank is a father who loves spending time outdoors with his children. Oh the children… Manny is a charming child although he is slightly manipulative when it comes to his parents and siblings. Greg is the middle child, being creative and sometimes talking too much.And Rodrick. You just can't find the words to describe it. The only thing you thought right away was that he was really attractive. The messy black hair gave contrast to the fair and beautiful skin. He had dark eyes. Makeup? For sure. My God, he is magnificent!

The Heffleys chatted animatedly with their parents, while Manny played with his cat on the couch. Greg sat staring at his drawings on the wall,and Rodrick... Well, he was doing photosynthesis. He clearly wasn't interested in you or your family, and he definitely didn't want to be there.

You looked at him trying to hide your charm. He looked at you a few times. Only that.

When they were leaving, Susan made her children say goodbye to every member of your family, including you. Rodrick's voice sent a slight shiver down your spine.

To your chagrin, you weren't in the same school as the Heffley brothers. But you discovered a new reason for happiness in that neighborhood. It was definitely like finding a gold mine. You ended up finding out that Rodrick Heffley is a drummer. You heard your band play almost every afternoon. The sound was loud enough for you to listen to it easily in your home without making any effort.

Once you gathered up your courage and went to the Heffley house, just as the noise of the rock band started. Rodrick opened the door, visibly irritated by the inconvenience of having disturbed him in the middle of his best solo. When he saw you, however, his expression softened. "Hey... Yeah... What's your name again?” You smiled yellow at him, trying to mask your disappointment so he wouldn't even remember your damn name. “Y/n..." You said shyly. Rodrick stared at you for a few seconds. "Ah, yeah, cool... Y/n! What do you want here?”

You blushed violently at the question. He clearly didn't want you to be there. You almost left, but you decided it would be foolish of you to miss an opportunity like that. "I... I heard you playing... Can I watch?" Rodrick's eyes widened immediately. You didn't seem like the type of person who liked his type of music. He was so surprised because most people his age don't like rock music. “Of course you can!" He said, in a rush of joy that almost made you scream. Almost.

Rodrick played in the basement of his house, and the basement wasn't necessarily tidy, but you felt a certain air of comfort in the place. Rodrick offered a chair for you to sit. He quickly informed his band members that you would attend that practice. And he was visibly bragging to try to impress you, and that had its effect. You were really impressed. Rodrick and his band played well, and you enjoyed the music while swaying your feet. A stubborn smile appeared on his face.

Rodrick was delighted with his presence there. People generally hated his music. You literally sought he it out just to see him play. He couldn't feel more proud and elated than that. When they were done, you quickly stood up. "It was a great show boys, but I really need to leave.” Rodrick walked you to the door. "Hey Y/n... Come around here more often, you know... To see me play." You smiled blushing immediately at his request. "But of course!”

That night you could barely sleep because you were so happy. The images of your perfect neighbor playing the drums remained in your head. And the way he invited you to visit him more often made you euphoric and anxious. Maybe, you thought, this could be the start of something... The start of something with your emo neighbor who plays the drums.

[minawritesfanfic]

Backyard Boy Part 1

Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Word Count: 4,196

Summary: Moving to the most boring town in one of the smallest states was supposed to be uneventful, but after meeting the boy in the house behind yours you come to realize maybe Plainview isn’t so bad.

Part 1

Next

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

I let out a soft yawn as I flipped to the next page of my book. Reading was one of my only solace in the unfortunate, and very unfair, situation I found myself in. I'd been forced by my parents to go outside to get some fresh air and sunlight! Which was hard given the fact it was a cloudy and dry Tuesday afternoon. I could sort of see where they were coming from, it's true since school ended three and half weeks ago I hadn’t left the house. Like at all, this was my first time even being in the backyard since we moved in. So obviously my parents were starting to get worried, but I don’t know what they truly expected from me when they moved the entire family to another state a little over a week before summer vacation. Everyone at school already had their long-since-established cliques, not to mention most were too preoccupied with the finals they had to take. So consequently when a student transfers in at the last minute nobody really cares, not to mention those who were envious of my being able to skip out on finals. Though I still had to take them the week prior at my old school and was forced to sit in classes during a test I’d taken ages ago. Regardless, that situation wasn’t a breeding ground for blossoming friendships.

I closed my book with an annoyed huff, just thinking about it again was working my nerves. I was hurt and annoyed with my parents for uprooting my entire life with little to no warning, they did apologize for it though. They let me go all out in decorating my room and revamping my wardrobe, which made the move a bit easier. I just wish they didn’t expect me to do something other than be a shut in? I had no friends and I was stuck in a new town and state with a killer wardrobe. It killed me inside having nowhere to wear all the cute new clothes I had, I started wearing them to do the most absurd things. Laundry, the dishes, feeding our pets, and reading outside on the hammock.

I continued to ramble on in my head fuming but also gushing over how much I loved my new clothes. I was abruptly shaking from my thoughts when I was lightly drenched in a wave of water, it felt like some sick sign from the universe for me to calm down.

Screw the universe’s sign, I was pissed off. Not only was I now wet, but the water may have damaged my book and ipod. I quickly assessed the damage to both and I was relieved to see they were both mostly unharmed. I climbed out of the hammock and slid my headphones down to hang around my neck. I kind of just stood there in the backyard trying to figure out where the water came from, maybe we had sprinklers installed and I just hadn’t realized? I was given a hint when another wave came over the fence and this time drenched my hair, I could feel my blood pressure rising as water trickled down my forehead all over my face. I spit the water away that pooled over my lips and wiped my now damp face, and stomped my way over to the fence. I couldn’t see over nor through it but I could hear someone on the other side, thankfully there was a cute wooden bench on this side of the fence. I climbed on top of it, a bit skeptical about whether or not it would be able to support my weight. I know that it was something that the previous owners had put in and they owned this house for nearly three decades. Who knows how old this thing is and when the last time it was maintained?

I stood at the fence peering over the edge, I found the water assaultant on the other side. It was a greasy-looking boy who looked about my age, as he was turned around I couldn’t see what else he looked like nor what he was doing. Just his dishevelled black hair and black shirt. After a moment he turned around and appeared to be jamming out as he used his hose as an instrument, his eyes were shut tightly as he made little noises as he put on a performance. It was evident from his actions and appearance that he was some sort of alternative or emo kid, from the skrunkly bangs and darkly coloured outfit. The headbanding and mini concert he was doing only confirmed that assumption for me.

Though the fact he was using the hose as an instrument explained why I kept getting sprayed with water though, I just leaned against the fence watching him with an amused grin. I was honestly in awe of how he could be so far in his own world and not notice my presence. I laughed out loud as his performance came to an end and started to clap, when he let out a startled yelp jumping back and swinging the hose wildly, leading to him spraying me and himself.

“Wonderful performance but twenty points off for the water show, I didn’t know I bought tickets to an aquarium.” I joked as he looked up at me with wide eyes and a flustered face.

“Oh shit! I’m sorry, I didn't know anybody lived there anymore.” He said quickly

apologizing before picking up the hose he dropped.

“Really? I find that hard to believe, we moved in like a month ago. How did you not notice someone moving into the house behind you?”

“I have much better things to do than worry about who’s coming or going in the neighborhood.” He said walking back towards his house to turn off the hose and put it away.

“Oh really, like what? I can hardly believe there’s anything cool to do in this boring little town.”

“Yeah really, and there’s plenty of things to do here you just don’t know where to look. Lucky for you I know all the great spots in town like the skate park, this really good ice cream parlor, smoke spots if you're into that, plus there’s even a cool band that performs in town.” He said with a smug smirk as he ran a hand through his hair, it gave me a clearer view of his face which if I was being honest wasn’t half bad.

“Okay maybe there is something to do here, you definitely have to show me to that skate park though. But there’s no way in hell any cool band is playing in this tiny ass town.”

“Ouch! You don’t think my band’s cool? Great things come from humble beginnings, you’ll change your mind once you actually hear us play.” He feigned hurt, though his confident and boastful demeanor softened a bit.

“I guess we will have to see, what’s the name of this ‘cool’ your band anyways?”

“Löded Diper and I’m Rodrick the founder, drummer, and occasionally lead vocalist.” He said, flashing me a toothy smile.

I introduced myself in return, “Nice to meet you, Rodrick. Though I wish it was under more dry circumstances.” I said with a dry laugh as I shook out the moisture from my hair.

“Yeahhh, again I’m sorry about that. I could take you to the skate park and get you a spot at our next gig if it’ll make up for it.” He said looking away with a reddening face.

“Sure, but only if we get ice cream too, then I’ll forgive you.”

“Oh, wow okay! Well uhm, our gig is this Friday, so we’d have to do the skatepark and ice cream after that. Let me go get you a ticket and flyer, I’ll be right back!” He said and quickly sprinted back into the house.

I laughed at his eagerness and jumped off the bench, and walked back over to the hammock. I’d left my book to dry out in the dried sun and seemed to be fine, I also made sure to check my ipod again which was also fine. So beyond the discomfort of damp clothes sticking to my skin and the water trickling down from my hair, everything was fine. I heard Rodrick come back, his breathing was heavy and he wasn’t exactly a quiet runner. I climbed back up the bench and leaned over the fence again.

“Here's your ticket and this is the flyer that has the address and time. I also wrote my uhh numbers on the back for whenever you wanted to skate.” He said as he passed them over to me, I skimmed its content before nodding.

“Okay cool, I guess I’ll see you sometime Friday. I’m gonna go inside and dry off now, so later skater.” I just smiled awkwardly as the air between us had kind of grown stiff, I waved with the flyer in hand and retreated into my house.

★ ✮ ★

Before I knew it Friday evening had crept up on me suddenly. For my parents Friday couldn’t have come fast enough, they were ecstatic to hear that I was going out to do something in town unprompted. You’d think I’d won the lottery with how they were acting, which I wanted to take offense from. But it really was quite the event for me to leave, I’d originally been the type of person to rarely be at home. My parents usually had to chase me down just to be sure I’d be home for dinner.

I was also honestly excited to get out the house again, this wasn’t like where we used to live and there was a major city just a thirty minute commute away anymore. So being invited out to do something was a welcomed change, I definitely didn’t like shutting myself inside all month.

As my mom drove me to the venue I pulled down the vanity mirror and double checked my appearance. This will be my first time out in a while, and I’d hate to not look good doing it. I put on my favourite shirt and bottom duo, despite the different styles they fit together seamlessly and I couldn’t just not wear them. After I was happy with my looks I flipped the mirror up and continued to stare out the window. Fiddling idly with my seatbelt as I always did, buildings and houses flying past as my mom practically sped through the town.

“Are you excited sweetpea?” My mom asked, glancing over at me.

“Yeah, I missed going out like this. I can’t wait to be out there enjoying the town again, although I don’t know how I feel about being crammed inside a venue with a bunch of strangers by myself. It’s a lot easier to get lost in a place like this.”

“Aw well do you want me to come with you? I’m quite interested in this summer festival too, which means that I can finally get my groove on.” She said with a laugh dancing a little in her seat.

I laughed but cringed slightly when she did the Dougie, “Not if you dance like that! I can already feel myself dying of embarrassment...”

“Oh hush, back when I was your age I was a dancing machine. You kids nowadays are too sensitive and hate having fun, such a shame.” My mother teased with a sigh as she pulled into a parking spot.

“I’m sure you were Mom, but I think I’ve got this on my own. Wish me luck?” I said as I got out of the car with my bag.

“Okay sweetpea good luck, just call if you need me. I’ll be right down the street, okay?” I just nodded and waved as she pulled off.

And there I was alone in the parking lot, as I made my way to the venue's gates I could hear music already. Rodrick’s band wasn’t supposed to play until late into the event, so I decided to show up a bit later. The festival was in full swing, despite the size of the town it seemed like there were thousands of people here.

As I passed through security I just stared in awe at the liveliness of the event. The air smelt delicious from all the food stalls, and people were dancing, sitting, and running around. I squeezed through the sea of people and found a cozy spot on the grass off to the side, its view of the stage wasn’t the best it would work for now.

I was starting to regret not having my mom come with me. Sitting alone in the grass surrounded by families and large groups of friends laughing made me feel out of place. I don’t even know why I came to this in the first place, it's not like Rodrick would even know if I came or not. Not to mention based on the lineup for the festival none of these bands played music I was really a fan of, so even if it wasn’t bad it’s likely not going to be something I’ll enjoy.I could feel even more negative emotions bubbling inside of me, I took a deep breath and stood. Then I made my way towards the food stalls in the hopes that a nice snack would calm my nerves.

There were a plethora of things to choose from, but once I saw the funnel cake stand I knew exactly what I wanted and made a beeline for it. I hopped into the short line and waited my turn, I practically drooled at the smell and felt all the negative emotions and thoughts drifting away. Which once again confirmed that food makes basically everything better or at least more tolerable.

“Oh my gosh, I love love love your shirt. Can I have it?” A stranger said placing a hand on my shoulder and pointing to my shirt, I was caught off guard by this then again when a hand pulled them away by the face.

“Reese that’s borderline assault stop it, sorry what they meant to say was where can they get one? That is a really cute shirt though, might I add” A boy said, stepping in front of ‘Reese’ with a smile.

“Thank you, I got it from a concert I went to. It was a small one though but I think their name was ‘The taxpayers’?”

“Oh, sick! I love that band, I listen to them all the time. That’s it we’re officially best friends now, I’m Reese!” Reese’s eyes lit up as they clasped my hands in theirs, shaking our hands violently up and down that I couldn’t help but laugh.

I introduced myself in return with a smile, “You’re quite the character aren’t you Reese? I love to be best friends with you.” Albeit the fact I was a bit thrown off by the abrupt friendliness, but I welcome having the idea of having a friend considering I had none here.

“That’s such a lovely name, I’m Alejandro by the way. If you’re up for it you should totally come and sit with us. I'm sure our other friends would love to meet you.” Alejandro said with a smile and Reese just nodded practically jumping up and down.

“Oh yeah sure! I’d actually really like that since I’m kinda here all on my own,” I said shyly as I quickly ordered my funnel cake, then stepped off to the side to wait for it to be done.

“Yes, yes, yes!!! This is gonna be so awesome, but is this your first time at the festival? I haven't seen you around town before?”

“A friend of mine is supposed to be playing here tonight, but it is my first time. I moved here pretty recently.”

“That makes sense, where did you move here from?” Alejandro asked as he joined us on the other side of the stall.

“New York, not from the city though but I did live pretty close.”

“Oh wow, that’s so cool. I’ve always wanted to go to New York City, there are so many places to visit and shops to see.”

“Yeah, it's a beautiful place but the rats there are as crazy as you think. I saw one this one time that was almost as big as my head!” I said as I moved my hands to my face to demonstrate how large the rat was, but then quickly turned around to grab my funnel cake as the man called my name.

“Gross, I can’t stand rats and shit. I think I’d absolutely die if I saw one of those. Anyways, is there anything you need to grab before we head over to our group?” I laughed and nodded as I ate a piece of my funnel cake.

“Uh yeah, I left my blanket over there.” I pointed to the left where I spied the floral blanket I’d brought with me.

“Perfect, our group is kind of over that way too, come on.” Reese grabbed my hand again and dragged me with them.

I quickly picked up my blanket and tossed it over my shoulder as I stumbled along with Reese and Alejandro. Eventually, we stopped at a collection of blankets near the front of the stage, there sat two girls and a boy. I made eye contact with the boy, he was pale and wore a navy blue sweater and light blue jeans, he smiled at us and waved. This led to the two girls turning around to look at us, one was a dark-skinned girl with long brown braids wearing a white crop top and long pink skirt. The other girl who was larger had pale skin and bright pink hair, wore a plaid yellow romper with a white undershirt.

“Well, who’s this cutie pie?” The girl in pink said, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

“My new best friend! Meet the gang!” Reese introduced me to everyone as we sat down on the blankets with them.

I learned that the girl in pink was Renatta, the pink-haired girl was Cecily, and the boy was Nolan. It was quickly evident how vastly different they all were, it was honestly the most unlikely group of friends. Renatta was definitely someone you’d see walking along with the popular girls at school, Cecily was an artsy bookworm, Nolan was harder to read but it was clear he ran in similar cliques that Renatta did, Reese was the big goofball of the group and artsy like Cecily, and Alejandro was on the quieter side but he definitely the fashionista amongst the group.

“Anyways, you said you had a friend playing in the show. Who’s your friend, I’m absolutely dying to know?” Renatta said turning to me as she waved off whatever Nolan was going off about.

“Oh yeah, his name is Rodrick and he’s here with his band. They should be playing soon.” Alejandro spit out their drink into the grass beside them and Cecily laughed.

“I can’t believe they let him perform after the last time,” Renatta said, shaking her head as she tutted, the whole group seemed to have similar reactions.

“What happened the last time..?”

“Oh, right you’re new here. He performed at this one girl Heather’s sweet sixteen a while ago and knocked a bunch of shit, and caused her to trip into the chocolate fountain. Renatta was there and said it was awful!” I cringed at the thought as Cecily explained.

“Yeah, Heather’s practically had it out for him since. Though don’t tell her I said this I think she deserved it, she’s way too self-centered for her own good.” Renatta interjected, rolling her eyes.

“Jeez, well let’s hope nobody gets turned into dippable food this time,” I said with a laugh.

As if on cue, I saw Rodrick and his band walk up on stage. I waved at him though I doubt he saw me as he introduced his band, once he was done they quickly went to play. It was interesting hearing them play the punk rock version of a pop song but it honestly wasn’t bad. Rodrick moved wildly as he played and it was clear he was in his element and having the time of his life. His band only played three songs and were off the stage relatively fast but they played well regardless. Plus no one was turned into a chocolate treat this time around.

★ ✮ ★

I waved goodbye to the new friends I made as they all headed home, as I looked down at their freshly saved contacts in my phone I received a text from my mom. She was going to be a bit late as she’d gone a bit further than just down the street to run some errands. I just responded with a simple okay and leaned against one of the brick pillars outside the venue. I couldn’t help but yawn, I’d had a blast dancing with Reese and them. It was fun but exhausting, not to mention it was already nearing ten pm. The sun had long since set and the only light coming through the cloud sky was from the street lamps. Thankfully there were still people slowly trickling out of the venue, so I didn’t feel too bad about being alone in the dark of an unfamiliar place.

“Heya neighbor, how’d you like the show?” A familiar voice called from my left, I turned and found Rodrick walking towards me.

“It was pretty good, I saw you guys play and I’ll admit you were right. Your band is kinda cool, never thought I’d hear a pop cover of Gwen Stefani’s Sweet Escape,” I laughed as I stood straight and walked over to him.

“I can’t see how you could ever doubt me,” he shook his head with a prideful smirk.

“Well, when you crash a sweet sixteen party it's a bit hard to put my complete faith in you.” His face flushed red and he groaned as he brought his hands up to cover his face.

“You heard about that already?! Ugh I’m never going to live that down…” He groaned into his hands as he dragged them down his face, I just laughed and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah I did in immense detail, I heard your rendition of Justin Beirber’s Baby was the performance of the century!”

“Please don’t remind me, I just barely got people to stop talking about it at school. I don’t think I could handle any more reminders of that embarrassing night.” He shuddered as he exaggeratedly shivered at the thought.

“Okay okay, I’m sorry. But still you did really well out there, plus I could tell from down here how much of a good time you were having.”

“Thanks, that means a lot.” He quickly cleared his throat, “Anyways are you free tomorrow? I still owe you that visit to the skatepark and ice cream.”

“Yeah I am, I almost forgot about that. Which reminds me too, I forgot to ask, do you skate Rodrick?”

He shook his head, “No not really. I only go there because I have a friend who does, he’s actually in the band too.”

“Aw that’s a shame but fair enough. This is my first time meeting a drummer that’s not a skater though, usually, it’s the other way around or some other instrument.”

“That’s odd, I just never really found the time to skate. I’m usually practicing with my band or dealing with my brother, so not a whole lot of free time.”

“Well if you’re up for it you can borrow an old board of mine and try skating with me, heads up though I suck at teaching.” We both laughed

“Maybe I’ll try it out.”

“Yeah, come on, don't maybe me. It’s tons of fun, plus I need a skate buddy.” I said as I spied my mom pulling into the parking lot.

“Fine, but only if you help me learn to ride before going to the park. I can’t fall in my ass around a bunch of my friends, I think I’d quite literally die.”

“Oh come on you’ll be fine, but still we can do that. My place at noon tomorrow then? We could practice first, go get ice cream, and then head down to the park. How’s that sound?”

“Ugh that’s so early but fine that works I guess.”

“Okay great, I’ll see you tomorrow then Rodrick. Bye!” I said giving him a quick hug before jogging off towards my mom's car, but quickly stopped and turned to him. “Oh yeah, do you need a ride home?”

“No, I drove here with my bandmates. Thanks though.” He said with a wave as he walked off toward the far end of the parking lot.

I just continued to my mom's car as she gave me a curious look. She didn’t say anything during the car ride home but I knew she'd have a million questions for me once we got home. And despite the fluttery feeling in my chest, I was dreading answering the bajillion questions she likely had.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆

[mocha1662]

New neighbor 𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀི

(Rodrick x Emo/goth? Black y/n)

[it’s not necessarily implied that Y/n is black but it kinda issss,4c hair mentioned!!! Fluff,enjoy :3)

Rodrick was in sitting on his front lawn listening to his rock band’s music while he watched Greg when he noticed Greg and his friend talking to a girl by her mailbox, he stood up walking over to the three. “What did I tell you about bothering people,pipsqueak .”, he lightly smacked Greg in the back of the head as he looked at the girl they were speaking too,he looked at the girl growing a small smile across his face, it was a girl around his age,her hair was short and curly with dyed tips,she work a pair of shorts and a big dark brown band t-shirt.

“Leave this pretty girl alone.”, Rodrick pushed the two boys to go across the street back to the house, “I’m Rodrick.”, he leaned against the mailbox a bit as he tried to look cool, “I’m y/n.”, “Did you just move here recently?”, y/n shook her head, “No,I used to live on the street over. I moved here two months ago though.”, Rodrick spoke to y/n as Greg and Rowley watched from across the street,then Greg’s mom walked out of the house. “Where’s your brother? He’s supposed to be watching you.”, “He’s talking to the neighbor.”,

Rodrick looked over and saw his mom walking towards him, “Hi,Rodrick, I see you met our new neighbor.”, Rodrick felt his face turn red a bit as he saw his mom shaking hands with the cute girl. “I’m Mrs. Heffley. It’s nice to see kid’s Rodrick’s age in our neighborhood,do you go to (Rodrick high school)?”, Y/n nodded as she looked at Mrs. Heffley back to her son,his face was completely red and he was flustered as freak. “Mom.”, Rodrick said kind of embarrassed. Mrs Heffley took the hint and said her goodbyes,letting Rodrick know that dinner would be ready soon. “Well,it was good to meet you. I-If you ever wanna hang out just come by my house.”, Y/n nodded,smiling while walking back to her house. Rodrick went back to his house thinking about the new girl.

Collages >ᴗ< :

[shyphonics]

Salad Days Chapter 3: When I was born, my mama cried, and picked me up with gloves.

(babypunk!Rodrick Heffley x reader)

part one | part two | part four

I wanna be stereotyped

I wanna be classified

I wanna be a clone

I want a suburban home

Suburban home

Rodrick wakes unusually early, 8 AM, still feeling weird. The rest of the band are still asleep. He grabs a beer from the fridge because, fuck it, nobody can tell him not to.

Getting shows is harder than he’d expected. He’s nervous, but he has to keep up a front, for the sake of the band. If he tells them he’s worried that they’ll never get a show, they might just give up. He can’t let on that there’s any negativity in his mind. He has to be a fearless leader. This has to work. This is their life now. It’s gonna be fucking amazing.

There are seven missed calls from home on his cell phone, and he decides to ignore them a little while longer. He doesn’t feel like talking to his parents, he knows they’d just be disappointed in him. He'd just have to hear about so-and-so from down the street who just got into law school. Or medical school. Or whatever the fuck kind of school.

No matter what he does, he knows he's a failure in their eyes.

Rodrick hadn't had any interest in higher education. He'd figured he didn't need it for the kind of life he was after. No matter how much his parents had guilted him.

He'd felt maybe a teeny, tiny bit guilty when everyone around him got their college acceptance letters. People started cliquing up based on which schools they'd gotten into and everything.

I hope we're dorm mates!

Are you taking psych 101?

Wow, you got a full scholarship?

Fuck off.

At one point, his dad had even caved and said, you can major in music theory!

And what, Frank? Show up to venues all like, here’s my degree! My masters in drums! Give me a show, please?

Yeah, right.

At least he'd had the rest of the band. Through everything, they'd always been on the same page. Always plotting a way out.

He takes a deep chug of his beer and pops his laptop open. He checks The Strike's website, and notices a radio feed in the top corner.

A nasally man's voice comes through his headphones. He's mid-rant, "-because they didn't understand us. And they never have, and they never will. My parents thought I was the devil. My dad loved The Eagles. I hated The Eagles with every fiber of my being. If I could say one thing to my father- and Glenn Frey- right now, it'd be: suck it. Punk never dies."

Rodrick suppresses a laugh as a song starts. He's pretty sure he recognizes it, and the words are really resonating with how he's felt since he left home.

Clicking through The Strike’s event calendar, he almost does a spit take. Friday night. They’ve got a show.

Suck it, Frank and Susan!

“Wake up, fuckers!” he yells, causing bodies to stir around the living room.

“Dude, shut up.” Ben groans from the couch.

“You shut up! We have a show! In 2 days!”

That does the trick, and everyone is up and shouting in celebration, drowning out their downstairs neighbor hitting the ceiling with a broomstick.

His email blinks with a new message:

Let’s see what you got, diaper boy.

~

Gettin’ high with your friends

On the basketball court

Sunglasses on when you sleep

Yeah, that's a sport

They're absolutely decked out. Denim, leather, patches, and studs as far as the eye can see.

You recognize Rodrick from your post at the bar, dressed like an aging member of a hair metal band, desperately clinging to his youth. He’s fumbling with his ID and a pair of dark sunglasses while Jimbo, the bouncer, impatiently crosses his arms. The rest of his band, you assume, make it through easier.

“The show’s in two days! What are you doing here?” you shout, drying a glass with a rag.

They look like a child biker gang, hopped up on sugar.

“Making ourselves known!” one of the others replies. He’s got a high pompadour, and a leather jacket that is entirely too small for him. You chuckle as they all take a seat.

“What’re you havin’?” You toss the rag over your shoulder and meet Rodrick’s eyes.

“Beer?” He says, unsure.

“Type?”

“Uh. Cheap? Cheapest, please.”

“Natty Light. Two bucks. Plus tip.” You wink, rooting around in the fridge under the bar.

“Tip? You got it out of the fridge.” Rodrick raises an eyebrow.

“And I opened it,” you pop the beer open, setting it down hard to make your point.

“Okay, okay. Uh, what’s a tip on that?” He looks panicked, digging in his wallet.

“I’m fucking with you. It’s a two dollar beer.”

He sheepishly hands you three singles, and you tuck the third into your bra. You hate to say it, you really do, but he’s kinda cute. All dressed up to drink shitty beer with his friends. He’s got a nice nose, despite the visible break, and enough eyeliner on to join a family of raccoons. It suits him.

He takes a sip and flinches, “This is awful.”

“If you hadn’t said cheap-est, you woulda had more options!” You laugh.

The rest of the guys order a round of PBRs, a four dollar option, and well whiskey shots.

“Ooh! Classy,” you mockingly fan yourself, “What fine young gentlemen.”

“Hey, how come it’s empty in here?” One of them asks.

“It is…” you check the clock behind the bar, “four pm.”

They stare at you.

“Broad daylight.” You deadpan, setting four shot glasses down on the bar.

The Strike is an old building, all chipped red paint and rickety metal. Rodrick’s eyes linger on a giant sculpture of a flaming match above the bar. Posters from their heyday line the walls: Agent Orange, Circle Jerks, Violent Femmes, Adolescents. There’s a weird song playing; the chord progression seems all out of whack, and from what Rodrick can tell, the singer is chanting suicide, suicide.

“What song is this?”

“You don’t know? it’s your favorite,” you tease, smirking at him.

He’s got nothing. You figured.

“Dead Kennedys, ‘Straight A’s.’ Come on, man. It’s a good one, too. Sixteen on the honor roll, I wish that I was dead. That was me!”

“Whoa. What? What happened?” One of the others asks. He’s got flat ironed blonde hair and big hipster glasses, and his mouth is hanging open.

“Well,” you tilt your head, “Let’s just say my hair and eyebrows have fully grown back, and my parents don’t know my whereabouts. The punks took me in, and I never looked back.”

“What do you mean they took you in?” The one with the shaved head looks at you with genuine concern.

“Okay, so like, this is a bar. People play here. People also play empty buildings, and shitty old houses.”

They’re hanging on your every word.

“I used to run the doors for house shows, collect the five bucks or whatever, stop fights, and then I could sleep in the houses. Then they started paying me, I met my band, I met Mike… and now I’m here!”

You pose, attempting to look successful.

“That’s really cool, but also, like, sad. You don’t talk to your parents?” One of them asks, eyes glittering.

“Don’t need ‘em.” You try to smile reassuringly. You hadn’t meant to bring the vibe down, but hey, they’d asked.

Rodrick’s eyes are fixed on you. His expression is strange. You decide to break the tension.

“You gonna drink that, baby boy?” You tap your fingernail next to his shot.

He looks up at you, lips trembling like they’re trying to form words. His friends are cackling.

“Uh, y-yeah, totally.”

Oh. He’s never taken a shot. None of them have, you realize, as you look down the line and see full glasses.

“C’mon, losers! Take ‘em down! What are you here for?” You holler, channeling your best drill sargent, “I’ll do it with you, fuck it!”

You pour yourself a shot of shit whiskey, raising it in the air, “Let’s go!”

They mirror you and raise their glasses.

“Here’s to Big Rod and The Diapers!”

Gulp. You look around. They’re all puckering their lips and tearing up. You have a brief moment of recovery as well.

You exhale heavily, “Yeah, that’s what happens when you get well liquor. Does a body wrong.”

They laugh, still groaning.

You turn the music up from the big stereo behind the bar, and the guys are all chatting amongst themselves. They seem to be having a great time, and you’re prepping the back of the bar for the small crowd about to pour in at five.

The whiskey hits Rodrick’s head, and he feels pretty goddamn proud of himself. This place is awesome. They have a show here. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and decides he's finally going to call home. Hearing your story had made him actually miss his mom. Maybe she’d even be proud of him.

“I'll be right back,”

His friends wave him off, and he heads into a doorway where the bathrooms are. He dials the number and sighs heavily, shaking off his nerves.

“Hello?”

“Hey, uh, hey mom,”

“Rodrick! Oh, thank goodness, did you change your mind? Are you coming home? We can start applying to colleges again, and…”

“What? No, I… I got a show! At a real venue.”

“Oh.” She sounds disappointed, “Are you getting paid?”

“Wh- I don't know! It's in two days. I'll let you know. Nice to know you're still so supportive, though.”

“I'm just worried about you.”

Rodrick frowns, refusing to speak.

“Do you want me to put dad on?”

“No,” Rodrick scoffs, “tell Greg I say hi.”

He hangs up, standing there, sulking for a moment. Why the hell was he expecting anything different? Don’t need ‘em.

He hears a commotion towards the front of the bar. He peeks around the corner, and sees the bouncer restraining a short, stout guy with a shitty little mustache.

“Lemme go, Jimbo!” he struggles.

“Tony! We told you not to come back here!” You march around to the front of the bar and put your hands on your hips.

“What did I even do?”

“You got broken glass and blood all over the dance floor! You know who had to clean it up?” You're right up in his face, taunting him.

Tony is part of a small group who only come to shows to beat the daylights out of each other. They're sweet when you get to know them, but reckless, and horrible for the bar ecosystem. Last Saturday had been hardcore night, and Tony and his buddies had managed to turn a very respectful pit into an absolute bloodbath.

He's still squirming. The bouncer has him in a full Nelson at this point, he's not doing himself any favors.

“I had to clean up your fucking blood, asshole! That's a health hazard!” You land a light flick on his nose and he grumbles. It's probably broken, and you feel just a little bad. “Not cool!”

Jimbo carries him outside like a child and dumps him on the curb. Rodrick is slowly creeping to the front of the bar, eyes wide. He's cautious, but part of him can't help but think how cool you are.

“Dont come back! Remember what I said, I can put the Hell's Angels on your ass in a second!" The bouncer’s voice booms.

The rest of the band notice Rodrick’s presence and they share a frightened look. This is getting serious.

Jimbo shuts the door and laughs. He's a huge man, mountain-like even. He's got long hair with a beard to match, adorned with rings, like a viking. His laugh does not match how scary he is. He sounds like Santa Claus.

You're laughing too. Jimbo is the perfect bouncer; strong and intimidating, but a total softie underneath. He's the honorary uncle of everyone at The Strike.

“You're a Hell's Angel?!” Ben pipes up, shocked.

“Nah,” Jimbo chuckles, “I just have a beard and a bike. Little fuckers like Tony scare easy, though."

Rodrick feels his heart hurt a little less as everyone around him laughs. He could get used to this. It feels like being in a weird little family.

“Oh boy,” you say quietly, hearing the familiar sound of fuck, fuck, fuck! coming down the stairs. It's Mike.

“What’s goin’ on, Mike?” you ask, grabbing a glass and filling it with seltzer water, topping it with a lime.

“Fuckin, booze delivery Saturday, show Friday! Spring break! Fuckin… frat boys!" His voice is high and nasally. Rodrick immediately recognizes his voice from the radio show earlier.

He chugs the water in one go, and slams it on the counter.

“Mike, we got plenty. All the bottles are at least half full, and the walk-in has, like, fifteen cases of beer.” You say, refilling his glass.

“Frat. Boys.” He repeats, running a hand through his tall, silver hair.

Rodrick grimaces. He really, really hopes none of those frat boys will be from back home.

“Isn't this a punk bar, though?” Ward asks.

Mike moves his head like a meerkat to look at Ward, squinting through his Buddy Holly glasses.

“Who are you? And they don't care! They'll go anywhere there's noise and booze!”

“Alright. Focus. Ideas, solutions,” you try to recenter your neurotic boss.

“They said we could come get it, but that delivery’s not gonna fit in a goddamn ‘94 Corolla.”

Ben leans back from the bar and looks at Rodrick, raising his eyebrows. Rodrick gets it, and smiles back, pointing at Ben.

“We have a van!”

Mike whips around to look at Rodrick.

“Who are you?”

“We’re Löded Diper, uh, sir?” he cringes at his own words.

“Ew. Don’t do that.”

“I don’t know why I did,” Rodrick’s eye twitches, “but we’ll totally get your booze.”

Mike gives him a suspicious glare, then ducks behind the bar to grab a notepad. He scribbles furiously and waves Rodrick over to show him the paper.

“That’s where you go. That’s who you talk to. That’s our order. Be there at 11 AM tomorrow, get it here by 1.”

“We’ve totally got it!” Chris shouts from the bar, making Mike jump.

“Don’t fuck me over!” Mike turns to point at Chris, then makes his way back up the stairs.

You look at Rodrick, mouthing nice! and giving him a thumbs up. He nods, giving you a big grin. It’s the first real smile you’ve seen from him, and it gives you a little flutter in your chest.

Pretty cute.

~

Hold my head, make me warm

Tell me I am loved

Give me hope, let me cry

Make me feel

Give me touch

The guys are all passed out for the night. Rodrick finds the radio feed from earlier and puts his headphones in, laying back on the couch. This time, the host is different.

"This is 98.7, your last independent radio option in a hundred mile radius." A calm, warm voice greets his ears, and he has a pang of recognition.

Is that...?

"I've been thinking about this song a lot today," the host says, "this one's for whoever needs to hear it."

Brain death. Mind death. School damage! Straight A's!

Rodrick sits up. Holy shit. It is you!

He closes his eyes and lets the song take him over. For how dark the lyrics are, it's oddly comforting. Today had really made him feel less alone.

Life isn't just bullshit for him- he'd known that, of course- but now he knows it. He's seen it. He's not a disgrace for going after his dreams.

He's finally in a place where that's not such a crazy idea.

If you're okay, if four other bands are okay... he's gonna be okay. He doesn't need anyone's approval. Fuck 'em.

He lays back as the song ends and another begins, a sense of relief washing over him. Eventually, he falls asleep to the sound of your smooth radio voice mixed with crunchy, old punk demos.

Everything is gonna be okay.

He knows it.

[hyp3rf1xat3d-rac00n]

☆Rowley's Half Sibling☆

Includes:

☆~Rodrick x reader! Gender Neutral reader! Fluff!~☆

------------

Rodrick had to pick up his brother from Rowley's. Again. However, when he came to the door, neither Rowley or his parents were there. There was a kid that looked the same age as him, and they looked really fucking cool. "U-Um hi. I'm here to pick up Greg." He said. The kid nodded and went back in. "Rowley! Your friend's ride is here!" They shouted up the stairs. "Okay okay sib, he's coming!" Rowley yelled back. Rodrick was standing out there for like ten minutes and Greg still wasn't out there yet. "Rowley didn't you say he was coming like ten minutes ago?" They yelled after swallowing some of their monster energy drink. "Yeah he's just getting some stuff sib!" Rowley yelled back. "Ok!" They yelled back. Greg finally came a minute later and he got in the back of Rodrick's van. Rodrick couldn't sleep well that night. He was too busy thinking about that person who was at Rowley's house the other day.

The next day Rodrick couldn't pay attention in school, which was normal, but the reason why wasn't. He was still thinking about that kid. He should've asked for their name, or number, or hell, at least something! But he didn't. Then he saw them again. They were apparently in the same class. Rodrick moved over to them while the teacher wasn't paying attention. He wondered how he hasnt noticed them before, with them sitting close to him alreadly. He tapped on their shoulder. "H-Hey. What's your name?" Rodrick asked, hoping this wasn't too embarrassing. "Oh it's Y/N, I'm technically new, since because of my cousin not being able to deal with me anymore she had me move here and move in with my half-brother." They said. "Oh. Well I'm somewhat surprised, ya act nothing like him, at least from what I've seen alreadly." He said. "Just cause I'm related to him doesn't mean we're the same, Heffley." They said back. "Ah, yeah that makes sense." He said.

After school, he had to drive Greg to Rowley's again since he wanted to hang out with Rowley, but well really it was for more Mom Bucks, but in honesty he didn't mind. He would be getting to see that hot kid again. "Hey Rowley, do you mind if I go in for a minute when we get there? I want to see your hot sibling again." He said. "Uh sure." Rowley said. When they all got there, he wondered where they were, since they answered the door last time

"Hey Rowley, where's the bathroom here?" He asked. "Uh second floor and it should be second door on the right." Rowley said. "Kay." Rodrick said and raced up the stairs, accidentally finding more stairs. He realized he had the wrong door, and went to the right door, but he was curious. After he used the bathroom he decided to read the sign on the door. It said "caution. Evil spirits live here." Rodrick chuckled at that. He was wondering about the stairs though, and the faint music playing. He decided to ascend the stairs, and the music started getting louder.

It was loudest when he reached the top of the stairs. He then realized that this was their room. He started blushing a lot and froze in embarrassment. They could feel someone staring at them so they turned the music off. "Oh uh, hey Roddy, what ya doing here?" They asked. "I saw stairs and got curious." He blushed more at the nickname. "Ah that makes sense." They said. "Anyways since they'll be a while, wanna hang out?" They asked. "Sure!" He said. It ended up somehow with them in Rodrick's lap while they were listening to a Pierce The Veil album. Rodrick couldn't enjoy himself more in this moment. They leaned back and kissed Rodrick on the cheek. "I love you Roddy." They said. "I love you too babe." He said back, while smiling.

[catminties]

Requests List 2.0

I am SO sorry to interrupt your fanfic scrolling babe, don't mind me I'm just accepting new requests, but feel free to just keep on scrolling :)

No smut please :)

Happy to do reader insert or character X character

Consider buying me a coffee!

Star Wars

Anakin Skywalker

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Din Djarin

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington

Eddie Munson

Robin Buckley

Nancy Wheeler

Gossip Girl

Chuck Bass

Nate Archibald

Blair Waldorf

Vanessa Abrams

Others

Howl Pendragon

Bruce Wayne (Battinson)

Loki (Marvel)

Rodrick Heffley (aged up)

[kiragecko]

[Google search asking, "is rodrick heffley bisexual', with a Featured Snippet from archiveofourown saying, "Rodrick knew he was bi, he had known it for a while and he thought it just made him cooler."

End ID.]

Somewhere between 3 to 5 years ago, I used Google with Google Scholar. Compare what I could do then, with the Google of today:

It would prioritize history over pop culture, because it knew my preferences. I'd be looking up random ancient Sanskrit words, and result number 3 would be a single link to a celebrity who had that word as a name - not because Google thought I WANTED it, but just to make sure I knew that this was the VASTLY more common result.

Unless it was comics or cartoons! Because it knew I liked looking up obscure comics characters even more than historical fashion. So If I searched for 'forge', I'd get Minecraft results (in case I wanted a new mod for me and my son to play), then the minor X-Man, and THEN information about metal-working.

(I looked at enough fanart that it struggled to distinguish Maya, the art program, from Maya, the culture, though. But it knew I didn't care about people named Maya!)

And I could forget, half the time, about buying stuff. If I looked up 'wardrobe', I got wikipedia and other sites talking about the history of cabinetry, not ads for furniture. It even seemed to guess which businesses I might want directions to, vs. which I just wanted to know the history of. (Dentist? I get a map of locations. Lawyer? Historical stuff.)

It could get weird. I'd look up something my papa mentioned, and it would take a while to find, because google assumed I wasn't interested in that. I'd try to do some Christmas shopping, and watch the results change as it realized it could FINALLY sell me stuff. I'd search something normal, and start laughing when it guessed I actually wanted to know about the minor Asian language with the same name.

-

Like, I'm not saying that this was GOOD. It was creepy!!! It was the exact same technology that's letting them do scarily telepathic advertizing. It's the reason I eventually got worried enough to move to Duckduckgo.

But they are still capable of doing that! They KNOW you don't want alibaba, pintrest, and paid marketing as your first page of results, and are giving them to you anyways.

They know that new age sites aren't the place to source facts about nutrition, because 5 years ago they easily distinguished between my curiosity about the development of science, and my curiosity about the historical context of various pseudosciences, and gave me very different results depending what I searched for. They know the difference!

They could be giving you precisely what you are searching for almost all of the time, but they're choosing not to.

It's infuriating.

google siting ao3 as a source is so unhinged

[lodeddiperactivate]

I hate you more! Part 3

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!reader

Word count: 737

Warnings: angst

Summary: Reader sabotages Rodrick’s chances with Heather. A classic enemies to lovers!

Author's note: I'm trying to be more consistent in writing, and I'm trying to "plan out" the chapters more? As you may have noticed (or not), I have also updated my masterlist for better reading experience I guess haha I have also started to be more detailed as I can when posting fanfics including warnings and proper tagging lol I'm still new to all of this but yeah :) This chapter's a bit short but I just wanted to get this out so I can start "planning" the next few chapters? lol yeah

Tags: @tomhockstetter7-111 @vihtoriacorrea @sleepyb1txh

"How do you read this again?" You asked Rodrick while pointing at the word "Sweaty" that's spelled out on a dog bowl.

"Uhh duh, it's sweetie!" Rodrick said confidently.

This is the second day of your tutoring session with Rodrick, and a day before your big test. You had arrived at the Heffleys a bit early so you decided to hang out with Greg and Rowley in the living room when Greg told you about how Rodrick pronounces "Sweetie." You decided to put it to the test when Rodrick came in through the front doors, and you held up the dog bowl and asked him what it says.

You, Greg, and Rowley failed miserably at trying to hide your laughter. It was too much that even Rodrick got embarassed. What's worse is that he doesn't know why you guys were laughing. He taunted Greg, and you decided to step in.

"Alright, come on, Rodrick, time to study," as you pull him by the waistband on his shirt.

"Don't tell me what to do," Rodrick snapped at you as he eyed you pulling him by his shirt.

"Oh? I think in this case, I can," you snapped back at him.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, because if you don't," you paused for a while and smirked at him. "Oh Mrs. Heffleyyyy," you said in an almost sing-song voice.

"Fine fine, you're a snitch!" Rodrick sighed in defeat as he headed upstairs into his room.

"She's awesome!" Greg told Rowley but you didn't hear it because you were already walking up the stairs with Rodrick.

When you arrived at Rodrick's room, it was still as messy as the first time you had set foot in there.

"Geez, would it kill you to clean up in here?"

"Why clean my own room when my mom will do it for me when she gets tired of calling me out on not cleaning my room?" Rodrick said as if he had figured out all the answers to the world. You just rolled your eyes.

"Let's just get this over with."

"What's the rush?" He asked.

"None of your business," you replied. The truth is that you're planning to sneak out later because you heard that there was this party where college students go to at the far-end of town. You always thought that you were too mature for your age so you casually enjoy hanging out with older people. Truth is, you always thought people can see right through your "too cool to be here" attitude and you're worried that people would hate you for it. Maybe Rodrick was right when he said you were only pretending in order to fit in. Did he just figure out your whole double life, the one you tried oh so hard to hide?

The good news is that no one can really tell how old you were when at events like college parties, and you still have your own set of fake IDs from when you were dating your ex. Rodrick didn't ask anymore questions but you can tell that he was curious about it.

"Anyway, let me be frank, you suck at spelling and your grammar is shitty. If I am getting this $100 a week, you need to really mean it."

"Why should I? You're the one getting paid, and if I recall correctly, you lied to me!"

"About what?"

"About Heather!"

"Please, you never had a chance with her!"

Rodrick became silent. His expression pained. You apologized and decided to reach your hand out to him, with the intention of giving him a light tap on the shoulder, but he dismissed it.

"Yeah okay," Rodrick's voice was low and soft. "Whatever," he said after some pause.

He was sitting on the bed and you were facing him, books and notes sprawled out in front of you two. Recently, you've noticed that there's this gnawing feeling whenever you see this side of him, like you want to take care of him. Then again, there is that other side that makes you want to punch him in the face.

"Rodrick," you said softly.

"What?" You detected a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"What if I split the $100? You get $40, I get $60, as long as you take this seriously. And if you take this seriously, we can end today's session a bit early," that last one was for your own benefit.

"Deal."

DOAWK masterlist

[storiesforallfandoms]

sweethearts ~ devon bostick

word count: 1446

request?: yes!

“I’m not sure if you do this but can you do a Devon Bostick imagine where they met on the set of Diary of a Wimpy Kid and they’re still together till this day? Possibly like them being asked about their relationship in a interview or something. Thank you so so much :))”

description: in which they’re teenage sweethearts, and everyone finds this fact absolutely adorable

pairing: devon bostick x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

Landing the role of Jessie Jones in the first Diary of a Wimpy Kid movie was a massive deal for me for many reasons. First, it was my first starring role - I was playing a family friend of the Heffley’s and would be featured heavily in the movie. Then there was the fact that this was a movie adaptation of a very popular book series, a series that I had also been into at the time.

Walking onto set that first day I was shaking with nervousness. There were so many people - cast and crew - and they all looked so professional and used to a film set. I felt so out of place and I wondered if I should’ve been there.

“Hey!”

I looked up to see a boy around my age approaching me. I tried to swallow my nerves, but I found them just becoming heavier with someone actually talking to me.

“Are you our Jessie?” he asked.

I nodded. “Yeah, that’s me. I’m (Y/N).”

“Devon, I’m playing Rodrick.” He shook my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.”

I felt so awkward and I was so sure Devon could feel that. I just wanted to melt into a puddle on the ground and have the awkwardness be over with.

“Have you been to costume and makeup yet?” he asked. I shook my head. “Well, I have to go to costume now, I can show you where it is.”

I sighed with relief. “That would be great.”

“Follow me.”

He led me from the set to the group of trailers outside. I tried to peer at the signs on the trailer doors to see what they were, but we were walking so quickly I didn’t really have time.

“Is this your first movie?” Devon asked.

“Kind of,” I said. “I’ve had mainly small roles or background work. What about you?”

“A few bigger roles. I’m in the Saw movie that’s coming out this year, actually.”

“That’s awesome! Although I am a massive pussy so I think I’d skip on that one.”

Devon laughed. “I don’t blame you. They’re scary movies. I don’t even know if I’m allowed to watch the movie.”

Our conversation was interrupted when we arrived to the costume trailer. We were both whisked away to get ready. I didn’t see Devon for nearly an hour, but by the time we reunited we were preparing for the first scene of the day.

It didn’t take long for me to lose my nerves. Within a few minutes of shooting I got into the character and almost forgot about the cameras and the crew watching me. At the end of the day I didn’t even want to go home, I just wanted to keep filming.

Devon found me as I was waiting for my ride home. “Hey, great job today rookie.”

I chuckled. “Thanks. It helps to have such great castmates.”

“You seem pretty professional as is, but maybe we could hang out and run lines for tomorrow’s shoot. If...if you want?”

He seemed so shy and awkward, the exact opposite of how he had been all day. It was kind of cute...okay, really cute.

“That’d be great actually,” I said. “Where did you have in mind?”

“There’s a fast food place not too far from here. We could walk there.”

“Sounds good. Lead the way!”

~~~~~~

10 Years Later

My giant husky, Heimdall, came bounding into the room and onto my lap as I was talking to the talk show host on my laptop. I let out a groan as I felt the air being knocked out of me.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” the talk show host chuckled.

“For you maybe,” I joked. “I don’t quite enjoy my big dog thinking he’s still a puppy or a lap dog, but I can’t really pretend like this is something new for him.”

Heimdall licked at my face as I scratched his head. Devon appeared in the doorway moments later, a guilty look on his face as he tried not to be too much on camera.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize the door was open,” he said.

“It’s okay,” I said to him.

Devon whistled for Heimdall to follow him out of the room, which led to the giant dog digging his paws into my stomach as he jumped off of me. I groaned again, playfully glaring after him as he trotted out the door.

“Interesting interlude there,” the host teased. “Was that Devon Bostick we heard in the background there?”

“It was indeed. He took Heimdall out for his daily walk while I’m in the interview. I’ll likely get tackled by the big brute again when I leave the room.”

“How often do the two of you get asked about Diary of a Wimpy Kid and your relationship starting there?”

“Not as often anymore. It’s been nearly 10 years since we started dating and eight since the last movie in the trilogy, which I wasn’t really in. I’ve been asked every now and then about it, but not as often as you would think.”

“Pardon my brief gushing, I just think the two of you are adorable. I mean, you were both teenagers when you met on set and started dating shortly after, and you’re still together all these years later! Most high school sweethearts don’t make it this long as it is, let alone being in the public eye for basically your entire relationship.”

“Well that’s the thing, we haven’t really been in the public eye all that often. We kept pretty lowkey when we first started dating, which wasn’t hard cause neither one of us was all that famous. Once our careers got bigger and we started getting noticed we had basically figured out how to hide from paparazzi and cameras and all. We don’t post about each other on social media all that much either, just a picture every now and again. We’re not sharing our day by day lives with the world basically, which I think is the best way to keep a relationship private and to navigate through being two celebrities dating.”

It had worked thus far in mine and Devon’s relationship. Even after confirming that we were dating just before the release of Rodrick Rules, neither one of us posted the other on social media at all. It wasn’t until the first set of breakup rumors started swirling that we decided to make tiny posts about each other when we felt like it, which was mainly on birthdays and holidays really.

Although, even if we were super public with our relationship, I didn’t think anything would pull us apart. As cheesy as it is to say, I did think Devon was my soulmate. We clicked so quickly after that first time hanging out (which we decided had been our first date years later), and I had never felt so confident that I was meant to be with someone. I wasn’t surprised that we were still together all these years later.

I continued with my interview for a while more before saying goodbye to the talk show host and leaving the video call. I sighed and stretched my back out, feeling the tensed muscles from sitting for so long popping. As I expected, the moment I opened the door, Heimdall came running for me.

“One of these days you’ll realize you’re not such a small dog anymore,” I told him, kneeling down to pet him. He licked at my face in response, which I figured meant he would never realize that.

“Did we derail the interview too much?” Devon asked, coming to join me on the floor.

I shook my head. “Not much. We talked about our relationship a little bit, but we moved on almost immediately after that.”

Devon smiled. “Yeah? What were you talking about?”

“Oh, the usual: meeting on set, keeping our relationship lowkey, when you’re gonna put a ring on it.”

He gave me a playful look. “You say that as if you’re not the one who said you’re more than okay with just being common law married until we’re 30.”

I nudged him. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s go take this oversized baby and watch some movies downstairs.”

Devon nodded and leaned forward. I gave him a quick kiss before pulling away and shoving the massive dog towards him. While he was incapacitated, I took the opportunity to run down the stairs. Heimdall was to his feel and chasing after me, Devon following closely on his tail.

I couldn’t imagine a better life than this, with my teenaged sweetheart and our fur baby. The perfect happily ever after if you asked me.

[andtheydontstopwriting]

The Fourth or Bust 【Rodrick Heffley x GN!Reader】- One-Shot

rating: pg

genre: just pure fluff

word count: 1323

summary: it’s your first fourth of july that you actually do something on associated with the holiday, and let’s just say it won’t be a bust at all.

author’s note: this is based upon whatever universe i created with curses and easier, but made this version gender neutral! as usual i am still growing and working on my skill so feedback is always appreciated!!

The Fourth of July was a holiday you had not exactly celebrated before. Growing up in the Upper East Side of New York, the most that would happen was watching fireworks from a distance, but there would be no party or no cookout, not even a hotdog or hamburger. Even if your family went camping, it was not the traditional sort of camping. It was luxury cabins in the woods, and a grill or campfire was never even considered. It was boat rides, swimming and drinking for the adults and expensive fish for dinner. 

So when your family moved out of the city and into a small town in Massachusetts, things started to change. Well, they did not change for your parents--maybe your mother who went to drink with her friends she had made since the move, but your father would prefer to keep up traditions and only went to the parties his co-workers would throw to ensure things would only be kept strictly business. 

For you and your brother, however, it was an entirely different story. Your brother went to the bigger parties, thrown by one of his friends. Where you went to a neighborhood thrown celebration party with your boyfriend, Rodrick. 

It apparently was one his and his family went to yearly, and he was just excited that he could bring someone that was both his age and someone he enjoyed to be with to the party this year as his dad had made it clear none of his friends could go, considering it was thrown by his neighborhood rival dad. But Frank had taken a liking to you and thought you were a good influence, so allowed you to go. 

When the Fourth finally rolled around, though the wait was not long as it felt it had only been a couple days since school had let out for the summer, you were up bright and early as Frank had told you to be at the Heffley’s house nice and early in the morning and you headed to that instruction. Getting ready was quick and to the point, trying to not overdo it with a simple shirt and a pair of shorts to withstand the warmer weather, slipping on your sneakers before leaving at the front entryway of your home.

                                                      :~+~:

Okay, so you were a few minutes later according to Frank, but in reality you had arrived at the time Rodrick told you to be there--around 10 or 11. So maybe it was late, but also not late at all. But according to Mr. Heffley it was as he had to run by whatever nonsense rule and expectations there were with the entire family before going into ‘enemy territory’ for the afternoon. Susan assured you that you’d be fine no matter what, it was mainly for her boys to stay out of trouble, but Frank did not want to signal them out that summer.

The party itself was what she expected whenever she saw or thought about a typical middle class suburban Fourth celebration would look like and be like: flag decor everywhere and the only thing in sight aside from red, white and blue, was chips, hot dogs hamburgers, cakes and cupcakes and whatever snacks associated with a backyard barbeque would have. While it was not your first to have these sorts of foods, as it was becoming increasingly common the longer you stayed in Plainville, it did not make the excitement to have them around any less momentous for you. You have learned to contain this excitement, often utilizing the seen not heard tactic you and your brother used as young children attending a high society party to conceal that excitement. Though judging by the amount of both yours and Rodrick’s plates, it was clear. 

“Got enough food there, babe?” Rodrick asked, looking at the food on the paper plate in your hand.

“You shouldn’t be talking, sweetheart.” You countered with a slight laugh, “But I don’t know when I’m going to have this stuff again, so gotta take advantage of it.”

“I’m sure if you tell my mom that, she’ll make sure we’ll have hot dogs and hamburgers every time you come by,” Rodrick pointed out before eating a chip, adding with his mouth full, “She loves you that much, after all.”

“I may just have to do that then.” You agreed though you were not sure if you would actually do so, but it would be a nice thought and something to use for the future and rest of the summer if she was ever craving a hot dog or something later on. 

The barbecue during the day was quite fun though you could tell Rodrick was getting over it really fast as the day dragged on because there was not a whole lot to do until night started coming and the fireworks were to begin. But there was something you had found enjoyable about the non-business, non-formal party in the backyard of someone’s house that kept you entertained in the summer heat. While you knew that staying so long in the summer heat most likely was not the ideal situation, but regardless you enjoyed it. 

With dusk approaching, that was the agreed upon time the Heffley family would leave to head to the town’s firework show, as it was the time most of those who went to that backyard party would be leaving, too. The fireworks were also something you had been invited to, and you did not have to be asked twice because fireworks were the few things that your Fourth of July shared with everyone else. There was something special about them, though the loud noise was not an ideal, the colors were worth it.  

Driving out to where the fireworks display was...was something, largely because it was you driving you and Rodrick behind the Heffley SUV, and the entire ride was Rodrick complaining about the day they had.

“I almost punched Greg about three times this afternoon, and I can’t even tell you why.”

“Why did it have to be so hot out? This tan line is gonna suck so much.”

“If it weren’t for you, I probably would have actually punched Greg now that I’m thinking about it…”

You could only smile and attempt to respond back to anything he was talking about, but they were all in rapid succession as they often were. You had noticed that when you two were alone, Rodrick’s thoughts simply just...came out without much of a filter and sometimes without pause. Whatever came across his mind, he said if he knew he could do so when you were around, largely because if it was just you, he knew you would not get him into trouble. It showed how much he really trusted you, and it made your heart swell just thinking about it.

And this feeling only increased as the family and the pair of you had arrived at the fireworks show. Instantly, as it often did when out in public, Rodrick felt he needed to keep you close and his arm went around your shoulders as Frank led the family and yourself to the best spot he could find to watch the show. It was a nice change of pace to be with a family who loved each other, deep down anyway, despite the chaos they held in everything they did. 

Once the show had begun and you had settled yourself against Rodrick as you both looked up at the sky lit up with exploding color and shapes, the smile on your face never did fade once. Though, you felt a pair of lips on her head and turned your head up to look at Rodrick, who was looking at you with the out of character softness you had only seen a handful of times.

“You know, you’re probably one of the best things in my life.”

“I think I can agree with that.”

[haveanotherfandomblog]

Fiery Passions

Part 1: Argentina

Pairing: Benny Weir x POC!OC, Rodrick Heffley x POC!OC

Genre: Angst, Non-Supernatural!AU, Fluff

Word Count: 8.5k

Warnings: Mild Language, Minor Character Death

Masterlist || Next>>

August 19, 2018

Today was a beautiful day for a funeral. For such a miserable day, everything seemed brighter--happier. The grass was more verdant than it had been yesterday, the birds chirped a cheery tune as the casket was lowered into the grave. The yellow and white roses seemed to have captured the sunlight perfectly as they rested on the closed casket. The world was often described as being duller with the loss of a loved one, but this was far from the truth. While we wallowed in self-pity and grief, the world around us does not seem to share our loss. It glows as if nothing happened, mocking our sorrow with its bright and joyous life.

Our young protagonist, Argentina Castillo, had seen death only once before. She was nine years old when she lost her mother. After battling cancer, and the physical strain of giving birth to her youngest brother, it was only a couple months before death took her mother. Her little brother had never really known his mother, and her younger sister barely remembered her. They did, however, remember their grandfather. After the passing of their mother, their grandfather had taken in his five grandchildren. Argentina, her two older siblings, and her two younger siblings. He had helped them with her passing, even though his own heart broke having to bury his child.

For eight years, they were their own happy, little family. Eight years, which had seemed like such a long time, had been turned into a fleeting moment. Argentina watched as they lowered her grandfather into the grave, right next to her mother’s, remembering times of laughter and unbridled joy. As she watched the casket disappear from view, it felt like those memories would be buried with him.

“The Castillo children?” a man asked. Argentina’s older brother, Joaquin, turned to the stranger who stood awkwardly near the children. The stranger was short and skinny. His eyes seemed to pop out of his oddly shaped head. He wore a long, grey coat that seemed too heavy for his scrawny body. His hand was wrapped tightly around the handle of a black, leather suitcase.

“Who’s asking?” Joaquin inquired. He moved to stand in front of his two youngest siblings. Joaquin easily towered over the stranger, his arms crossed over his chest. He had giant muscles that strained against the restraining fabric of his black dress shirt. His narrowed gaze seemed to see straight through the short man. Even though he hadn’t shed a single tear during the entire ceremony, his eyes were bloodshot and tired. This whole situation had aged him well past twenty-three.

“My name is Carnie Wilson,” the man said, shifting from foot to foot as he nervously glanced up at the giant Joaquin. “I’m from New York, in America. Let me first offer my condolences for your loss.” His other hand fidgeted at his side, shaking slightly. “I have come on behalf of your last living relative.”

“We just buried our last living relative.” Argentina’s older sister, Xiomara, had stepped beside Joaquin, her hands wrapped around herself. She was wearing one of their mother’s old dresses. Her hair was lazily pulled away from her face, tears staining her cheeks. “Besides, we don’t have any American relatives.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but that isn’t true. You are, in fact, related to one Mr. Beckett. He’s your--uncle,” Mr. Wilson told them. The Castillo children looked at each other confused.

“Our mother doesn’t have a brother. She was an only child,” Xiomara said.

“Yes, that’s correct,” Mr. Wilson said. His eyes darted between Joaquin and Xiomara, briefly falling onto the other three Castillo children. “However, your father had a brother.” There was a moment of shocked silence as Mr. Wilson’s words sunk in. He offered them a tight-lipped smile. “I know this is a lot to take in. Perhaps there’s some place where we can talk privately?” Joaquin nodded.

It was some time before the Castillo children and Mr. Wilson were able to return to the Castillo residence. Their entire small town in Guatemala had come to the funeral. Their grandfather had been loved by so many others. Each person told a different story about how helpful and thoughtful their grandfather had been. Each story pulled at Argentina’s heart, filling her with sorrow and visibly upsetting her sensitive, little sister, Esmeralda.

“Now that we’re somewhere private, do you have any questions?” Mr. Wilson asked, sipping the tea Xiomara had served him.

“I have a few. First off, how did you find us?” Joaquin asked, his arms folded over his chest as he sat back in his chair. “As far as we know, our father died shortly after our mother returned from America. He didn’t know we existed, so how did you know where to find us?”

“Why don’t you two go play,” Xiomara suggested to Esmeralda and their youngest sibling, Rafael. While Argentina knew that Esmeralda no longer “played”, Esmeralda understood the true intentions behind her oldest sister’s words. She grabbed onto Rafael’s hand and led him into the living room. Joaquin didn’t take his eyes away from Mr. Wilson, watching as he took another nervous sip of the tea, his eyes wandering around the tiny kitchen.

“Yes, it’s a rather unique set of circumstances,” Mr. Wilson began. “Your--uncle received a letter upon the request of Mr. Mateo Castillo’s will. It gave a detailed account on who you were and that you’d need a guardian to look after you. We simply followed the sender’s address to find you.”

“I can look after my own family,” Joaquin said, an edge to his voice. Xiomara put a hand on his shoulder. “Besides, our grandfather would have told us if he knew our uncle. The Castillo’s don’t keep secrets.” Mr. Wilson watched Joaquin carefully, a glint in those nervous eyes that didn’t quite sit right with Argentina.

“I’m sure your grandfather had his reasons for not saying anything. Unfortunately, I don’t know, for sure, those reasons, but if I were to guess, I would assume it was the same reason your mother didn’t tell your father about you,” Mr. Wilson said. He glanced down at the cup, his spine straightening, though it didn’t make him any more imposing than a blade of grass. “While you and Ms. Xiomara Castillo are both of legal age to take care of yourselves, Ms. Argentina Castillo, Ms. Esmeralda Castillo, and Mr. Rafael Castillo are still minors and henceforth will be transferred to the custody of their uncle. You could sue for custody, but as Mr. Beckett’s attorney, I would advise against it. He has quite a sum of money.”

Joaquin clenched his jaw, his gaze narrowing on the small, fragile frame of Mr. Wilson. Argentina was perfectly okay with watching her brother tear him into pieces. It certainly wouldn’t take him long to do so. Xiomara squeezed his shoulder, her eyes on Mr. Wilson.

“Are Joaquin and I allowed to join our siblings in America?” she inquired. Mr. Wilson straightened his spine, sparing a fleeting glance towards Joaquin and Argentina.

“As per the request of the late Mr. Mateo Castillo, Mr. Beckett has extended an invitation to you both,” Mr. Wilson said. He set his briefcase, which had been sitting in his lap, onto the table. He opened it up and produced five tickets. “You are scheduled to leave at the end of the week. Pack as much as you can, and Mr. Beckett will send someone for the rest of your things.” He set the tickets on the table before snapping his briefcase shut. He pulled at his coat, standing up from the table. He nodded his head once before leaving the house.

Xiomara wrapped her arms around herself, leaning against the kitchen counter. Joaquin let himself relax as well, leaning forward to run a tired hand through his dark locks. Xiomara took a seat between him and Argentina. Argentina was staring at the plane tickets on the table, rage filling her heart the longer she stared.

“Think of it this way,” Xiomara said. “At least we’ll be together. That’s what’s most important. The Castillo’s stick together, no matter what.” She had a tendency to look at the bright side of things. Argentina knew that no matter what darkness was thrown their way, she could trust Xiomara to be there as a beacon of light. She pulled Joaquin and Argentina into a little group hug. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

August 24, 2018

The end of the week came sooner than Argentina had been hoping. Their week had been filled with goodbyes and packing. Xiomara had made sure to pack enough clothes for everyone and some precious family mementos that she wanted to make sure made it to America. They didn’t own a lot of stuff to begin with, but leaving the house behind with some of their possessions still in there felt wrong, but there was nothing that could be done. They couldn’t exactly pack the house onto the plane, or the cab.

None of them had ever been on a plane before. Argentina sat next to Esmeralda in the middle row of the plane. Across the aisle was Xiomara, Rafel, and Joaquin. Rafael bounced excitedly in his seat, peeking around Joaquin’s large frame to stare out the window as they waited for the plane to depart. Joaquin was staring out the window. While she couldn’t directly see his face, Argentina could see the melancholy, slightly glazed expression on his face through his reflection in the glass.

Xiomara was doing her best to keep Rafael as calm as possible, reminding him to mind his manners and be respectful while she shot nervous glances at Joaquin. Esmeralda had her nose buried in a book, her knuckle white from her grip as she ignored everyone and everything around her. Argentina let out a silent sigh, simply putting in her earbuds. She let Black Sabbath and Metallica take her to her own happy place where she was still in Guatemala with her siblings and grandfather.

It was mid-afternoon by the time they arrived in New York. Unlike their small town, New York was filled to the brim with people. Joaquin immediately grabbed onto Esmeralda and Rafael, keeping them close as people bustled around them. Xiomara and Argentina went to look for their bags, receiving odd and curious looks as they did so. They huddled together awkwardly, wondering what was supposed to happen now.

“Look over there,” Esmeralda said, pointing towards a man with thin-rimmed glasses and a funny hat. He stood at a semi-empty space, holding a sign that simply read, “Castillo”. The Castillo children awkwardly made their way to the funny-dressed man. Argentina felt uncomfortable in the terminal. Unlike most people who were tall, pale, and spoke with the stereotypical New York accent she’d heard on tv, the Castillo were a dark shade of brown from spending time out in the sun and from their Mayan heritage. Their hair was as black as ebony and their eyes were the same dark brown color as the earth.

“Welcome,” the man said. He didn’t have the accent other people in the terminal had. His voice was deeper than Joaquin’s and up close, Argentina could see the grey eyes that seemed to peer through to her very soul. His piercing gaze reminded her of her grandfather’s: sharp and knowing. Under his gaze, she felt like all her secrets and private thoughts were out on display. “I have been sent to retrieve you for Mr. Beckett. I am the caretaker of his estate and the butler, Mr. Winsby.”

“Why didn’t our uncle come and ‘retrieve’ us?” Joaquin asked, sizing Mr. Winsby up. Joaquin’s English was the best out of the Castillo children. Xiomara and Argentina could speak it well, but they had incredibly thick accents. Esmeralda was better at understanding, and Rafael had only just begun to learn. Mr. Winsby didn’t flinch under Joaquin’s gaze. His face remained completely neutral, but there was a knowing twinkle in his eye.

“Mr. Beckett is in an important business meeting. While he wishes he could be here, business is business. He will be back at five-fifty for dinner which will be served at six p.m. sharp,” Mr. Winsby said. The Castillo children exchanged glances with each other before looking back at Mr. Winsby. “Now come along. I’m sure you’d like some food and some rest before dinner.”

With that, Mr. Winsby turned on his heel and began to walk away, the Castillo sign tucked under his arm. The Castillo children chased after him, for an old man, he was rather fast. Mr. Winsby led them to a big, black, SUV. The Castillo's paused their movements, staring at the car. Because their town was so small, and their grandfather believed that walking was good for your heart, the Castillo children had never been in a big car. Most people in their town didn’t have cars.

Mr. Winsby came to them and took their bags, loading them into the back of the car. He ushered the children into the vehicle and took off away from the terminal. The leather seat was unusually cold against Argentina’s skin. She focused her gaze out the window, watching as New York City disappeared and made way for the smaller towns upstate. Argentina was happy they weren’t living in the city, and that little bit of familiarity she felt brought her some comfort.

It wasn’t long before the Castillo children and Mr. Winsby arrived at their new home. A small town named Whitechapel. Driving down the roads, Argentina was able to glimpse into life in the small town. Children played out in their yards, adults talked and laughed with one another, older kids walked down the streets. Whitechapel reminded her of her home in Guatemala, and a brief hope of a similar life passed through her.

Her hope was immediately crushed when Mr. Winsby pulled into the driveway of their uncle’s house. It was more of a manor than a house, and Mr. Winsby was right to refer to it as an estate. This was definitely the richer part of the small town. Argentina stared at the house in disgust. Why would someone who supposedly lived alone need such an obnoxiously large house.

“Come on guys, let’s get our stuff moved--” Xiomara trailed off as three women came towards the car. They grabbed the Castillo children’s bags without a single word and began taking it into the house. They watched as the women disappeared into the house. “Oh. Okay then. Um, how about we go see the house,” she suggested. Argentina rolled her eyes before climbing out of the car.

“Do you think the house has secret tunnels?” Rafael asked. Argentina cracked a smile, turning to look at her little brother.

“Probably. I bet it’s full of skeletons and creepy, giant bugs,” she said, moving to tickle him. He let out a loud squeal, squirming away from her ticklish touch.

“Children! This way please,” Mr. Winsby called, peering over his glasses. His gaze was focused on Argentina, but she could see the hint of amusement in his eyes. She turned around so Rafael could hop on her back. Once he was situated, they followed their other siblings into the house.

The inside of the house was, in short, grand. There was a large entryway that led straight to a grand staircase. The floor and staircase was a white marble that had a black carpet as a walking path. A fancy chandelier hung from the giant ceiling. Mr. Winsby stood at attention in front of a long line of people, his hands clasped behind his back. The Castillo children hung back at the door patiently, watching Mr. Winsby carefully.

“Children, allow me to introduce you to the household staff. As you know, I am Mr. Winsby. This is Mrs. Lockley, she is the head of the staff and will be one of your caretakers. This is Ms. Jiang, she is the head chef. The three women you’ll recognize from grabbing your bags are Ms. Clark, Ms. Taylor, and Ms. Addams. They are also your caretakers as well as maids. Should you need something, you are to ask one of them, Mrs. Lockley, or me for it. Are we understanding?” The children nodded. He went on to introduce the other cooks and maids and gardeners and other weird job holders that Argentina had no interest in memorizing. “Now that introductions are done, Mrs. Lockley will take over. I have business to attend to.” Mr. Winsby offered a curt nod to Mrs. Lockley before exiting through a side door.

Mrs. Lockley was an old lady. She had fair skin with lots of wrinkles. She had grey hair and light blue eyes. She stared at the kids, an all-knowing glint in her eye. Argentina wondered briefly if this was what her grandmother had been like.

Rafael began giggling uncontrollably, catching her off-guard. Xiomara lightly tapped his shoulder, shaking her head. He covered his mouth with his hands, but his giggles still escaped him. Mrs. Lockley arched one of her thin brows, her head tilting down to stare at Rafael.

“Do you find something funny?” Mrs. Lockley inquired. Her voice was soft but sharp. It reminded Argentina of when their grandfather would scold them in public. He never raised his voice, least of all in public.

“Her hair looks like cotton candy!” Rafael giggled in Spanish. Esmeralda and Argentina snickered under their breath, looking at poor Mrs. Lockley who didn’t seem to understand Spanish in the least bit. Joaquin shot the girls a pointed look, subtly shaking his head as a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Rafael! Don’t be rude!” Xiomara scolded in Spanish. She gave Mrs. Lockley a small smile. “Excuse him, Senora Lockley. He is still just a baby.” Mrs. Lockley nodded at Xiomara, sparing Rafael a pointed look. He had stopped giggling, biting his lips together. He offered her an innocent smile, his dark curls hanging loosely across his forehead.

“Follow me, children. I will show you to your rooms. I’m sure you’d like to freshen up before dinner. Ms. Jiang has also been kind enough to leave something for you to snack on,” Mrs. Lockley said. She led the children up the grand staircase and to the right. She kept her hands clasped behind her back as she turned to face the children briefly. “Directly across from us is the West Wing. You are to never, under any circumstances, enter the West Wing. Everything you need is in the East Wing or on the first floor.”

“What’s in the West Wing?” Argentina inquired. Mrs. Lockley pursed her lips.

“That would be where Mr. Beckett’s room and study are. You are not to go to the West Wing. Ever.” She gave each child a pointed look. She turned on her heel and continued up the right side stairs, her steps muffled by the carpet. The children looked at each other before continuing to follow her up the stairs.

The top of the stairs led to a dead end and a hallway that stretched far on either side. She turned right and kept walking. The children followed her until she stopped at a door on the left of the hallway, identical to the other doors in the hallway.

“This will be your room, Mr. Castillo,” Mrs. Lockley said. She opened the door, pushing it inside to reveal a very plain looking room. The walls were a light grey with nothing on them. A bed, bigger than any the children had ever seen, was pushed against one side of the room. The bed sheets were dark blue and looked rather expensive. Across from the bed was a desk with a chair and a lamp. On one wall, next to the window, was a bookshelf full of old books.

“I get--all of this--to myself?” Joaquin said, taking a step inside the room. Mrs. Lockley looked at him with a scrunched up face.

“Of course. You’re a grown man who needs his own space,” she replied. Joaquin nodded, letting out a low whistle. “The young Mr. Castillo’s room is right next door.” She opened the next door, revealing a room like Joaquin’s, only it was bare of the desk and bookshelf. On the bed sat a brown teddy bear. Rafael ran past everyone, jumping on the bed. Mrs. Lockley said nothing as she went to the door across from theirs. “This is the bathroom for you both.” She turned to the Castillo girls. “Follow me.”

She led the girls back down the hallway, past the stairs, and down the opposite hallway. The girls struggled to keep up with her fast pace. For an old lady, she was a fast walker. She stopped abruptly, gesturing to a door on the right side of the hallway. She looked directly at Xiomara.

“Ms. Castillo, this will be your room.” Xiomara opened the door slowly, letting the door swing softly into the room. The room was almost identical to Joaquin’s. However, unlike his, her room didn’t have a bookcase, and instead of the desk being across from her bed, it was along the same wall, leaving a wide, empty space for her.

“Wow. This is amazing,” Xiomara said, stepping inside to fully appreciate her room. Mrs. Lockley smiled softly, nodding her head thoughtfully. She moved to the next door.

“This room is for the youngest Ms. Castillo.” Esmeralda looked at Argentina before entering the room to take a look. It resembled Joaquin’s room the most, only it had more bookshelves than his. She looked back to Mrs. Lockley before stepping into the room.

“Why do we have to have separate rooms? And why are we so far away from the boys? I don’t like it here. I want to go back home,” Esmeralda said, her Spanish coming out in one long breath. Xiomara emerged from her room, leaning against the door frame.

“I know it’s a big adjustment, but you’ll get used to it. I’m right next door,” Xiomara assured her. Esmeralda stuck out her bottom lip, moving to Xiomara’s comforting embrace. Mrs. Lockley watched, confused at the scene unfolding before her. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just homesickness,” she said to Mrs. Lockley.

“Which one is my room?” Argentina inquired. Mrs. Lockley straightened her spine and beckoned for Argentina to follow. She continued down the hallway, taking a sharp left into a hallway identical to the one they’d just been in. At the end of the hallway was a door that was different from her siblings’ doors. Argentina’s steps slowed as she approached the door. Mrs. Lockley opened it to reveal a set of stairs that spiraled up.

“A--special--request was put in on your behalf,” Mrs. Lockley said. Argentina quirked a brow before slowly ascending the stairs.

The stairs led to another door. She opened the door to reveal a room just like her siblings, only, it wasn’t exactly like theirs. There was a bed on a wire frame pushed against the side of the room with a giant vanity across from it. On one side of the bed was a small desk, the other side was a night stand. Across from the door was a giant window with curtains. Walking across the bedroom, she threw open the curtains.

Outside the window she could see the house next door. Peering out the window, she saw a bunch of vines snaking up the side of both houses. She looked down and saw a big lawn with hedges. She figured she was in the back of the house. She glanced back up at the house and noticed a window directly across from hers. Inside, a little off to the side, she could make out two boys around her age sitting on a bed. They had game controllers in their hands and headphones on their heads.

One of the boys happened to look over and spot Argentina through the window. His eyes went wide as he frantically tapped the other boy, eyes locked onto hers. The second boy rolled his eyes, looking at his friend annoyed. The first boy pointed towards Argentina. The second boy followed his friend’s gaze until his eyes too landed on Argentina. Once their eyes connected, his jaw unhinged completely. Both boys freaked out before dropping out of view. Furrowing her brows, Argentina shut her curtains. She definitely wouldn’t be opening them again.

Turning around, she was greeted with the sight of one of the maids bringing up her bag and a plate of fruit. The maid set the plate on the nightstand and the bag at the end of the bed. She certainly didn’t look like a maid. She actually looked like she was Xiomara’s age, making her around eighteen or nineteen.

“Thank you, for bringing me my bag, I wasn’t sure where it had been taken,” Argentina said, her Guatemalan accent thick. The maid gave her a crooked grin, patting the bag.

“It was no trouble, really. Compared to your little sister’s bag, yours was nuttin’.” The maid’s accent was like the ones she heard on tv, but not as aggressive. She had a slight tan and long, dark brown hair. It was pulled away from her face and rested in a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She had light brown eyes that glowed in the light. “Did you need anything else Ms. Castillo?”

“Uh, no, but you don’t have to address me like that,” Argentina said. “I don’t think anyone’s ever referred to me with such… formality. Argentina is fine.” The maid nodded, giving her another smile.

“Then feel free to just call me Clara.” She stuck out her hand for Argentina. They shook, sharing a smile. “So um, how are you? I was told your grandfather passed away,” Clara said. Argentina nodded, moving to sit on her bed.

“Uh, yeah. He passed away a couple weeks ago, a bad heart,” Argentina said. She paused briefly, looking over to the vanity. “I didn’t know I had an uncle. What’s he like? Sr. Beckett?” Clara blinked, caught off guard by her question.

“Oh! Um, Mr. Beckett is--nice. I don’t really know him too well. I’ve seen him around though. He doesn’t seem too bad,” Clara said, twiddling with her thumbs. Argentina stared at Clara, tilting her head to the side. Clara avoided eye contact, her eyes shifting around the room.

Outside her door, Argentina could hear a commotion coming up the stairs. The rest of her siblings came barreling in. Clara jumped slightly at their intrusion. Rafael ran to Argentina, scrambling up her bed to sit on her lap. Two more women, the other two from grabbing their bags, followed shortly after the children. They hunched over, breathing heavily.

“Let me introduce Ms. Clark and Ms. Taylor,” Clara said, pointing to each woman. Ms. Clark was a young, pretty woman with light brown hair that was pulled away from her face. A few loose whisps escaped her bun, framing her face naturally. She had light brown eyes that had wrinkles around the creases, aging her more than she likely was.

Ms. Taylor was another young woman, close to Joaquin’s age. She had long blonde hair that she had pulled back into a braid. She had pale blue eyes and a long, wide nose. Her skin was pale and covered in tiny freckles.

“You… all… run… surprisingly fast,” Ms. Clark panted. She stood up straight, letting out a loud breath. Xiomara chuckled, shaking her head.

“We have to keep you, what’s the phrase, on your toes?” she said, shooting Ms. Clark a wink. Ms. Clark tilted her head, blowing out a big puff of air. Xiomara smirked.

“Who are the weirdos next door?” Esmeralda stood in front of the window, the curtains thrown open. The two boys from across the yard stood in the window, flexing as hard as they could--their sleeves rolled up as far as possible. Xiomara and Joaquin rushed to the window to see what Esmeralda was looking at. Xiomara raised both her brows, her mouth falling open slightly. Joaquin began laughing so hard he clung to his sides, doubling over.

When they saw Xiomara, they stopped moving. Their jaws dropped all the way to the floor as they drank in the sight of her. Argentina rolled her eyes, stepping over a still laughing Joaquin and pushing past Xiomara and Esmeralda. She gave the boys a sharp glare before closing the curtains again.

“Who lives over there?” Xiomara inquired, picking Rafael up and setting him on her hip. He hugged her excitedly, burying his head in the crook of her neck. She rubbed his back, moving to sit on Argentina’s bed.

“Evelyn Weir,” Ms. Taylor said. The Castillo children looked at her expectantly. “Mrs. Weir is one of the oldest residences of Whitechapel. She’s lived in that house her whole life. She lives with her son and grandson. She’s really nice. Everyone just calls her Grandma Weir.”

“But there were two boys in the window,” Esmeralda said.

“Probably just one of his friends.”

“You have such a nice room,” Joaquin commented, changing the topic. “Sr. Beckett has very nice taste.” He looked around the room, nodding his head. “Although your room is a bit far from everyone else’s.”

“Sorry, that’s my fault actually,” Clara said. Argentina cocked an eyebrow, waiting for her to explain. “Well, Mr. Beckett hired me after hearing about you. I was s’posed to take care of Argentina. I was explorin’ the house when I found this room. Took a quick peek and thought you’d like it. Course, I didn’t know about the neighbor boys.”

Argentina didn’t have anything to say. She rarely spoke nowadays. Ever since the funeral, she’s done her best to keep quiet, listening to everyone else fill the silence. Xiomara would occasionally try to coax her into conversations, but one pointed look from Argentina stopped her.

“Well, I think that’s enough of that,” Ms. Clark said. “We still need to get everyone prepped for dinner.” She ushered everyone out of the room, shutting the door firmly behind her. Clara glanced at Argentina before clapping her hands together.

“Welp, now that that’s been taken care of, let’s get you ready for dinner,” she said, jumping from the bed.

“Why? I’m already dressed.” Clara offered her a bashful smile, rubbing the back of her neck. She looked around, as if checking to see if there was anyone secretly listening.

“Let me tell you, while I think you look perfectly fine as you are, Mr. Beckett is, well, he’s kind of a socialite. He dines with senators and CEO’s and other big, important people. He expects a level of--fanciness--with his meals. Mrs. Lockley, while understanding not everyone dresses like Mr. Beckett, has asked me to make sure you look your absolute best.”

Argentina crossed her arms, jutting her hip out.

“And what’s wrong with the way I dress? I’ll have you know that all my clothes look exactly like this. Sorry I don’t conform to your American style, but I am not American. I am Guatemalan and I refuse to have my culture stripped from me in favor of some--some--pendejo.” Clara blinked, quite a few times. She took a deep breath before rejoining Argentina on the bed.

“I have no idea what a ‘pendejo’ is, but I do know one thing, you’re probably right.” Argentina couldn’t help herself. She burst out laughing, leaning forward as she clutched her sides. Was that how she sounded speaking English? How did everyone not laugh at her? Clara smiled, rubbing Argentina’s back. “There we go. Now I know it’s not desirable, but can I help get you ready for dinner?”

She wanted to say no. She wanted to tell Clara she wouldn’t be joining them for dinner. She wanted to go back to Guatemala and pretend she never met anyone or saw anything. She couldn’t. Her siblings needed her, what’s more, this was the only connection she had left of her father. She’d always been curious about him, what he was like, what kind of man he was.

It was these thoughts that allowed Argentina to silently concede to Clara’s request. And while Clara obviously knew very little about the styles of Guatemala, she certainly didn’t do half bad. She pulled Argentina’s hair back into a single braid, letting it fall over her shoulder. She hadn’t bothered with makeup, only dabbing something on her face to hide the bags under her eyes.

“This is beautiful.” Argentina watched Clara through the mirror as she pulled one of her Sunday dresses out of her suitcase. It was beautiful, a white top with a magenta skirt that had vertical stripes going down the length of the skirt.

“Thank you. It was my mother’s. My abuelo told me she--she used to wear it almost every Sunday. I usually wear it for special services,” Argentina said, tearing her eyes away from the dress. There was shuffling behind her. She glanced up and saw Clara had pulled out a different dress.

“I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” Clara slipped out of the room, leaving Argentina alone once again. She sat on her bed, staring blankly at the wall. A loud noise drew her attention back once again to the window. Standing up, she slightly moved the curtain to peek into the house next door. The boys were back at their videogame, yelling at the tv and smashing their fingers against the controllers. She let the curtain fall shut, moving to put the dress on.

Staring at herself in the vanity mirror, this was the first time any effort had been put into her appearance since her grandfather’s death. She could barely bring herself to smile anymore, and if she did, it didn’t reach her eyes. Xiomara assured her she did the exact same thing when their mother died, but she eventually grew out of it. However, back then she had her grandfather to help her.

There was a quick knock at her door before Clara poked her head in, offering a small smile before pushing the door opened farther. She too had changed her clothes. She was now in black pants and a white button down shirt. She had minimal makeup on and wore almost no jewelry.

Argentina followed Clara down the stairs, through the hallways of the East Wing, and back to the main entrance. They took a right which led them to a giant dining room. A large table with more chairs than people sat in the middle. All around the room were old, antique paintings. Two chandeliers hung from the ceiling. They were tinier than the one in the main entrance and had a more rustic look to them.

Clara sat her near the middle of the table before stepping off into a different door. A few moments later, she was joined by Xiomara, Rafael, and Ms. Clark. Ms. Clark was dressed identical to Clara. The tiny wisps that had surrounded her face had been pulled neatly back. Even her makeup matched Clara’s.

Xiomara and Rafael were also dressed in their Sunday outfits. Xiomara had her hair pulled into a low bun, her makeup subtle. She fixed the sleeves of her shirt, sitting a few seats down to the right of Argentina. Rafael sat across from Argentina, fiddling with the strings of his colorful shirt. A giant, ugly, center-piece sat between Argentina and Rafael. He reached to touch it, but Xiomara stopped him, giving him a pointed look. She turned to Argentina, her brows furrowed. Argentina shrugged, waiting for the rest of their siblings.

It was another few moments before Ms. Taylor appeared with Esmeralda and Joaquin in tow, dressed in their best Sunday apparel. Ms. Taylor sat Joaquin across from Xiomara, next to Rafael. Esmeralda was seated on the other side of Argentina, multiple chairs between them. Joaquin gave Xiomara a questioning look, but she just shrugged in response.

Ms. Taylor smoothed out her outfit, which was identical to Clara’s and Ms. Clark’s, before disappearing into the door the aforementioned had exited through. Argentina slumped against her seat, staring around the dining room. This felt more like a fancy, formal, dining event than a supposed family dinner.

Mr. Winsby and Mrs. Lockley entered the dining room shortly after Ms. Taylor’s departure. Unlike the other three, their outfits were considerably more classic. Mr. Winsby wore a black suit with a white shirt, a colorful waistcoat, and a black bow tie. Mrs. Lockley also wore a suit. Hers was a light bluish-grey and more flowy than Mr. Winsby’s stiff suit.

“Now children, we’re going to go over some rules before Mr. Beckett arrives,” Mrs. Lockley began. Joaquin turned to Rafael, murmuring the translations. “Yes, good thinking Mr. Castillo. Thank you. Now, firstly, when Mr. Beckett arrives, you are to stand and stay standing until he has taken his seat. You are to thank him for his hospitality, you are guests after all. After that, you are not to speak unless spoken to. Should Mr. Beckett speak to you, you are to address him as Mr. Beckett.”

The front door opened and was followed by a loud slam. Mrs. Lockley straightened herself out and moved so she was pressed against the wall, quiet as a mouse. Mr. Winsby exited the dining room towards the main entrance. Argentina looked to Xiomara as muffled voices traveled through to the dining room. Xiomara shrugged, glancing over to Joaquin. They quickly stood as footsteps approached the doors. Mr. Winsby opened the door, folding his arms behind his back.

“Mr. Beckett, the Castillo children.” Mr. Winsby stepped aside to allow Mr. Beckett through the door. He looked rather young for a middle-aged man. He had thick, black hair and piercing blue eyes. On his face was a beard that reminded Argentina of Obi Wan Kenobi from the Star Wars movies. He wore a business suit that was dark blue.

He paused when his eyes fell onto the children, almost as if he was frozen in time. His eyes swept over each child. He glanced over to Mrs. Lockley and quickly cleared his throat. He didn’t say a word as he made his way to the head of the table. He took long strides and sat closest to Xiomara and Joaquin. Once he was seated, the Castillo children sat.

“It was kind of you to take us in, Sr. Beckett, including me and Joaquin,” Xiomara said, a soft smile on her lips. Mr. Beckett nodded, his movements stiff. He tilted his head slightly as he stared at her.

“We’re family. It’s what I’m supposed to do,” he said. Argentina bit her tongue, keeping her gaze down. His statement rubbed her wrong, but she didn’t want to be rude. He cleared his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. “I hope you traveled well.” Xiomara glanced up to Joaquin, jerking her head slightly.

“Um, yes. The plane ride was very nice. As was the car ride here. This is a beautiful town, Senor Beckett,” he said, looking to Xiomara for support. Mr. Beckett nodded again. Behind him, a clock struck six o’clock and without missing a beat, Ms. Clark, Ms. Taylor, and Clara entered, carrying two silver dinner dishes each.

Ms. Clark set her dishes in front of Rafael and Joaquin, Ms. Taylor set hers in front of Mr. Beckett and Xiomara, and Clara set hers in front of Argentina and Esmeralda. Then the three girls disappeared as quietly as they came back into the door. Mr. Beckett wasted no time beginning to cut into his meal. Rafael grabbed onto Joaquin’s hand expectantly, closing his eyes and bowing his head. Mr. Beckett paused, glancing at the youngest Castillo before looking around at the other children.

“What’s he doing?” he asked.

“Nothing, Senor Beckett. It’s just… we usually pray before we eat,” Xiomara said. Mr. Beckett nodded thoughtfully before setting down his silverware.

“Of course. How rude of me not to ask about that. Please, don’t let me stop you,” he said. Esmeralda grabbed onto Argentina’s left hand and bent her head. Xiomara grabbed onto her other hand before holding a hand out for Mr. Beckett’s. He blinked multiple times, staring down at her hand. She didn’t move until he eventually grabbed her hand. Joaquin reached for his other one and bent his head and began the prayer.

“Bendícenos, oh Señor, y estos, Tus dones, que estamos a punto de recibir de Tu generosidad. Por Cristo, nuestro Señor. Amén.”

“Amén.” The Castillo children lifted their heads and began to enjoy the meal Mr. Beckett had offered them. Every once in a while Mrs. Lockley would step forward to help Rafael with his food. While the kids ate, Argentina noticed Mr. Beckett studying each child. From the corner of her eye, she watched him observe her siblings then herself.

She wondered if it was weird for him, to see kids that looked like his dead brother. She noticed subtle similarities between him and her siblings. She could finally see where they got their thick, black hair and sharp noses. Were there other similarities he could see that she couldn’t? Did he see their mother in them? Had he even met their mother?

These questions circled around her head, but she didn’t dare to ask them. Instead, dinner was quiet, as he didn’t ask any questions, the children weren’t permitted to talk. Eventually their plates were clear and the girls reappeared. Rafael turned to look Mr. Beckett right square in the eye.

“What’s for dessert?” Rafael asked in Spanish. Xiomara quietly scolded him for his bold request. Mr. Beckett stared at Rafael for some time in quiet contemplation. Rafael stared back with an innocent gaze, occasionally sparing glances to Joaquin.

“Whatever the young man desires,” Mr. Beckett responded in perfect Spanish. Rafael clapped excitedly, turning to tug on Joaquin’s sleeve as the other children stared at Mr. Beckett with wide eyes.

“I wasn’t aware you spoke Spanish,” Xiomara commented. “You speak it very well.”

“Thank you. I have found that being bilingual in my position comes quite in handy,” Mr. Beckett said. He glanced down at his watch, frowning slightly. It was made of gold and looked like it could pay for two months worth of meals in Guatemala. “If you’ll excuse me, I have important phone calls I need to make. Mrs. Lockley, see that the young man receives his dessert. Buenas noches, Castillo children.” Mr. Beckett didn’t wait for a response before he disappeared out the door, Mr. Winsby hot on his tail

“Is he always so… detached?” Xiomara inquired, trying her best not to offend him in case he could still hear. Mrs. Lockley pursed her lips but didn’t respond. “I will take that as a yes.” The children joined hands once more for their after meal prayer.

“Te damos gracias por todos tus beneficios, oh Dios Todopoderoso, que vives y reinas en el mundo sin fin. Amén. Que las almas de los fieles difuntos, por la misericordia de Dios, descansen en paz. Amén.”

“Amén.” The children stood from the table and looked around awkwardly. They didn’t have dishes to clear away and nothing to wipe the table with. They turned to Mrs. Lockley, unsure of what to do. She pointed to the door that Ms. Clark, Ms. Taylor, and Clara had disappeared into.

They went through the door and found themselves in a giant kitchen where the aforementioned sat around an island with the head chef whose name Argentina couldn’t recall. The girls beckoned them in, patting the seats around them.

“How was dinner?” Ms. Clark asked. The Castillo children looked at each other apprehensively before back at the girls. “That bad, huh?”

“We weren’t really sure what to expect, but I don’t think we were expecting… that,” Joaquin said. The chef let out a snort, moving to open the refrigerator doors.

The chef was really pretty, just like Xiomara. She had long, dark hair and slightly tanned skin. Her soulfully deep, almond-shaped eyes reminded Argentina of two black stones peeking out from a white lake. She quickly searched the fridge before producing a carton of ice cream. Rafael clapped his hands together, bouncing in his seat with a squeal.

Ms. Taylor reached up to grab a bunch of bowls from the cupboards. She placed them in front of the chef as she began scooping out the chocolate ice cream. Ms. Clark placed spoons in the bowls and passed them around until everyone had a bowl.

The older Castillo children chatted idly with the women, asking questions about the town and what they should expect. Argentina and Esmeralda ate in silence, focusing on their ice cream instead of the conversation. Rafael was perfectly happy with half of his ice cream ending up on his face.

Once everyone, except Rafael, was finished, the Castillo children collected the bowls and began doing dishes.

“What are you guys doing?” Ms. Clark asked. The Castillo children looked at each other before Xiomara gave a little chuckle.

“Helping clean up, of course,” she said with a smile. Ms. Clark shook her head vigorously, moving to stand up.

“No. You don’t have to worry about that. That’s our job.” Ms. Clark went to grab the plates but Xiomara swiftly dodged her hands.

“It’s not your job to clean up after us--”

“No, really, it is.”

“No. While Mr. Beckett might not mind leaving a mess behind, our madre and abuelo taught us better than that. Especially when you’re company.” Xiomara moved past Ms. Clark, carefully setting the dishes in the sink.

“But you aren’t company. You’re family now,” Ms. Taylor said. Argentina roughly set the bowls in the sink before she began washing them. Joaquin nudged her softly, shaking his head. She rolled her eyes but didn’t do anything else. The Castillo children continued to wash the dishes and put them away. “I don’t know what to do. I wasn’t trained for this.”

Joaquin glanced over his shoulder, shooting Ms. Taylor a wink. She blushed slightly, turning her head away. Argentina nudged Joaquin in return, a hint of a smile crossing her face. Even in a weird and confusing time, her brother could manage to find time to flirt with a pretty girl.

“I’m sorry, your name seems to have escaped me,” Xiomara said once the dishes were put away. The chef smiled.

“I’m the head chef, Yingyue Jiang, but everyone calls me Meimei,” she said.

“Why?” Esmeralda asked.

“It’s a nickname. It’s Chinese for ‘sister’. It’s also easier for people to pronounce,” she explained. “What about you guys? If you want us to refer to you by Mr. and Ms. Castillo, we will, but since there’s five of you, a first name or nickname will be easier to remember and know who we’re talking to.” She tilted her head slightly, giving Esmeralda a kind smile.

“I’m Esmeralda.”

“That’s a beautiful name,” Meimei said. Esmeralda gave her a small smile, bowing her head.

“I’m Xiomara and this little man is Rafael.” Rafael lifted his head at the mention of his name. He seemed to have more ice cream on face than he’d actually eaten. Xiomara shook her head and accepted the rag to wipe his face. He sat perfectly still as she did so before diving right back into his ice cream and successfully dirtying his face again.

“You all seem close.”

“We are. Family is everything. After our mother passed away, it was just us and our abuelo. He taught us that we worked better together than apart,” Joaquin said.

“He sounded like a smart man.”

“The smartest.” They sat there in silence for a brief moment. “I’m Joaquin, by the way.”

“Wakin?”

“Heh, not quite. Joaquin. Wa-keen.” Meimei practiced it a couple times before she got it. “Very good! Not my easiest name.”

“‘Names’?” Clara asked.

“Yes. I thought Americans had middle names,” Xiomara said.

“Oh, yeah. What is your middle name?”

“Mine? They’re Elena, Sofia, and Itzel.”

“Whoa, that’s a lot of names. Why do you have so many?” Ms. Clark asked.

“Because we have no father,” Argentina said. Xiomara gave her a pointed look as Joaquin sighed. The other women shifted uncomfortably, glancing at each other. “I only mean we grew up without a father. Most families in Guatemala have two last names, our mother did as did our abuelo. Since we didn’t know our father’s last name, our mother gave us an extra middle name to fill the gap.”

“Well that’s not so bad,” Meimei said. “So all of your names are that long?” The Castillo children nodded. “Well, let’s hear them. Because if I have to scold any of you, I will use your full name, no matter how long.” She gave them a pointed look, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Well, mine is Xiomara Elena Sofia Itzel Castillo. Then there’s Joaquin Mateo Primo Benito Castillo, Argentina Carmen Luciana Perla Castillo, Esmeralda Marisol Viviana Lillianna Castillo, and then there's Rafael Manolo Sebastian Jorge Castillo,” Xiomara said, pointing to each Castillo child.

“Well those are certainly mouth fulls,” Ms. Clark said. Xiomara shrugged, smoothing her brother’s curls. Not up for conversation, Argentina excused herself, stating she was tired from the journey.

She left the kitchen, went through the dining room, and ended up back in the main foyer. Mr. Winsby and Mrs. Lockley were nowhere to be seen. She continued up the stairs before pausing to look over to the West Wing. Something deep down told her to go and demand answers from Mr. Beckett--demand he send her and her siblings back to Guatemala. Instead she turned and went towards the East Wing, down the hallways until she was climbing the stairs to her room.

Once she was safely in her room, she collapsed onto the bed. She finally took the time to notice just how soft her bed actually was, much more than her one in Guatemala. It was like laying on a cloud. She lifted her head up to look at herself in the vanity mirror. She looked so tired. More than she usually did.

She laid back down, thinking about her life and everything that had brought her to this point. She hadn’t really thought about who her father could be. After her grandfather told her and her siblings he was dead, she didn’t feel the need to ask about anything else. Maybe she should have. Maybe then she could have known what to expect when she met Mr. Beckett.

She wondered if her father was like Mr. Beckett, cold and distant, awkward around children. Was he fun like her mother? Spontaneous and hard-working? Maybe he had been more like her grandfather, kind, wise and compassionate.

She pushed her thoughts away as she readied herself for bed. There was no use in those types of thoughts. Both her parents were dead, her grandfather was dead, and her uncle--her last living relative--didn’t seem to have any interest in getting to know his family, but she couldn’t bring herself to be angry with him. After all, Joaquin and Xiomara were both adults. He had no part in their lives and his presence was too little too late.

Letting out another sigh, she buried herself in her covers. Maybe once she woke up, she’d still be in Guatemala and this would have been a weirdly long dream. One could hope.

[beautiful-and-terrible]

dazed ’n’ confused (part 2)

A/N: omg this part was so much longer than i ancitipated sorry T__T and i promise in part 3 we will get some fun stuff ;)

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x OFC

Warnings: none (for this chapter)

---

The whole day, Nicole was distracted. She sat in her lifeguard chair, biting her nails, eyes concealed by her sunglasses and gazing at nothing. The pool manager ended up telling her off because she let multiple people dive off the board at the same time. She was a mess on the way home, too. She stopped at her favorite gas station to get slushy and almost left her bike behind, aimlessly wandering toward her house before she remembered she hadn’t walked there in the first place.

She got home and hopped in the shower, rinsing off the sunscreen and sweat, trying to forget how warm Rodrick’s hands felt under her own, how she had been close enough to smell laundry detergent and cinnamon gum. His dark eyes and full lips. 

She almost slipped getting out of the shower.

She tried to write music and get him off her mind, but all of her songs ended up sounding sad and sappy or slow and sultry. It was maddening.

The next day, Saturday, Nicole woke up more irritated than usual. She normally wasn’t a morning person, but this was next level. She did her makeup quickly and threw her hair into a pair of messy french braids. She decided to treat herself to an ice coffee, so she grabbed her wallet and headed outside to her bike.

Despite it being 9:30 in the morning, Rodrick was already outside… mowing grass? Nicole had never once seen him do that before. Giving him a short wave, she coasted down her driveway and headed into town toward the Starbucks. 

As she stopped at the sign at the end of their street, she looked back. Rodrick was looking in her direction, but Nicole shook away the thought that he could’ve been staring. She looked both ways quickly before pedaling quicker than she had before.

The Starbucks was about a 20 minute bike ride from her house, and Nicole usually took this time to listen to a podcast or her favorite album. This morning, she chose “Dr. Feelgood” by 

Motley Crue - she was a sap, sue her. She liked to remember the little things about people. She definitely recognized the chord progressions and drum patterns replicated in Loded Diper’s songs - at least, the songs that she had heard muffled through the garage door as she hung her head out her window to listen.

A short time later, Nicole hopped off her bike and locked it in place, skipping with anticipation for the sweetest, creamiest ice coffee she could get her little hands on. She walked up to the cashier, browsing the menu quickly.

“Hi, Welcome to Starbucks - what can I get started for you?”

“I’ll do a iced caramel macchiato with almond milk and light ice, please.”

“For sure, anything else?”

“No, thanks,” Nicole said, pulling out a five dollar bill and some ones.

“Hey, aren’t you new in town? You came into school at the end of the semester.”

Nicole looked up at the cashier, just now noticing what she looked like. She was cute in a pixie, petite kind of way, with short brown hair and big green eyes. If Nicole hadn’t been so enamored with Rodrick, she probably would’ve developed a big whopping crush on this girl, too.

“Yeah, I’m Nicole. You go to PVH, too?”

“I’m Caitlin - we were in bio together, I think.” Nicole wracked her brains, thinking back to the last bit of school she could remember.

“Oh, right, we partnered up a couple times.” Nicole said, smiling.

“Hey, if you want, a couple of friends and I are having a party tonight. You should come,” Caitlin said, flashing a dimpled smile. Nicole felt her tummy flip - mostly from excitement, and the elation of feeling included by her peers.

“For sure, just text me the number.” Nicole wrote down her number on a hot beverage sleeve and slid it towards Caitlin.

“Cool, see you then. Oh, and your drink will be right over there.”

“Thanks.”

Biting her lip to keep from grinning like a crazy person, Nicole moved down the divided counter to wait for her drink. The whole bike ride home she couldn’t help thinking that maybe moving to this town wasn’t such a bad thing after all. The day ended up not being as horrifically hot as yesterday, and Nicole’s mood had improved significantly after a heavy dose of caffeine.

But, when she rounded the corner back onto her street, Rodrick was still outside, mowing the lawn. And lord have mercy, for such a skinny looking boy, he had some seriously toned arms. Nicole almost crashed her bike into the curb, narrowly avoiding spilling her drink all over herself. She rode past him up her own driveway without acknowledging him, even though this time he was the one who waved to her. Payback for flaunting his ridiculous arms in front of her at 10:30 in the morning.

She went inside to change into her bathing suit and the usual denim shorts she wore over them. She didn’t need to leave for work for another hour, so she plugged her electric guitar into the amp in her room and fiddled around with learning some Motley Crue riffs that she remembered from her morning bike ride. Nicole wasn’t a prodigy by any means, but she had been playing guitar for long enough that she knew the basic chord structure of most of their popular songs. 

As she stood up to slip on her black converse, she saw her phone had lit up with a text. Unknown number.

“Hey, its Caitlin :) the address is 460 Norfolk Drive. Party starts @ 10!”

Nicole did a little dance. “Cool, I’ll be there :)” she texted back, and ran down the stairs back to the garage to get her bike again. She was so excited by the idea of hanging out with people her age that she almost didn’t see Rodrick leaning against his own bike at the end of her driveway.

“Your lawn looks good,” Nicole teased as she rode by. If Rodrick had any snarky reply, she was gone before she heard it. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw him standing with his mouth agape. She laughed to herself before starting her regular route to the city pool.

Not long after she started her shift, perched in her lifeguard chair with the umbrella angled to deflect the worst of the sun, Rodrick showed up with his two friends. They seemed to be attached at the hip. One was shorter than Rodrick, with long, surfer-style blonde hair, and one was about Rodrick’s height, with short dark hair and a cool slit in his eyebrow. 

Nicole was glad her sunglasses were dark enough to not see her eyes, because she definitely would’ve been caught staring by now. Rodrick wasn’t muscular by any means, or athletic, but there was still something cute and boyish about his gangly frame, and the way his shoulder muscles flexed when he took his shirt off was… for lack of a better word, distracting.

The first couple of hours passed uneventfully, and Nicole started to doze in her chair, chin propped up on her hand. The combination of warm sun and cool breeze lull her into a half-awake state. It was adult swim, so there weren’t any kids to worry about. She could close her eyes for a few minutes and…

She heard him before she saw him. The signature sound of the diving board being bounced once, twice, and then…

Nicole was doused in freezing cold water.

The huge splash covered both sides of the pool, high enough to reach her in her life guard chair. Moaning with displeasure, Nicole wrenched her sunglasses off her face and pointed an accusing finger at the grinning boy in the water. Fucking Rodrick.

“You’re dead, you little shit.” Nicole growled, and left her sunglasses on the seat of her lifeguard chair before diving in the pool.

The cool water enfolded her, silky and calm, before she came up under Rodrick and unleashed all hell. Still under water, she grabbed his ankles to pull him down. She heard his shout of alarm before it transformed into bubbles.

Underwater, her vision was blurred, but Nicole could still see Rodrick laughing and the dark outline of his eyes. She found herself laughing too as they briefly wrestled and tried to drag the other farther underwater before they both broke the surface, gasping for air.

“Okay, okay mercy,” Rodrick gasped as Nicole wound her arms around his neck in a headlock.

“Stay off the diving board, or I’ll make you drink the kiddy pool water.”

“Oh my god, kids pee in there!”

“Exactly,” Nicole laughed before shoving him away, though it wasn’t very aggressive considering the water softened the blow. Rodrick was still laughing behind her.

“Damn, if I get that kind of a reaction every time I jump in the pool, maybe I’ll do it for a living,” he called after her.

Nicole dunked her head under water once more to adjust her hair before climbing out of the deep end on the latter, electing to ignore that last comment. Now that she was back in her life guard chair, she couldn’t believe how impulsive she had been. Some kind of instinct took over and before she knew it, she had been flying out of her chair to give Rodrick a taste of his own medicine.

And now that she was thinking about it even more, the more embarrassed she became. Oh God, had she been super obvious? And more than that, had she been unprofessional?

She looked around the pool to see if her manager was watching - luckily, no sign of him. Most of the other pool guests weren’t paying that much attention either, except Rodrick’s friends, who were still laughing hysterically as Rodrick dried himself off by shaking his hair like a wet dog.

Nicole had touched more of Rodrick than she had the other day when they accidentally touched hands. Way more of him. Not that she exactly remembered the feeling of every limb, but the contact still made her feel more than a little weak in the knees.

They didn’t even know each other that well! What was she thinking!

Nicole spent the rest of her shift biting her nails anxiously, and when her co-worker came to switch chairs she ran to hide in the employee lounge next to the girls bathrooms.

By the time five o’clock came, she had calmed down a little bit, but was still embarrassed by her frankly juvenile behavior. She helped clean up the pool area by hosing it down and picked up some left over trash before heading to her bike.

And, because Nicole had maybe the worst (or best, it was hard to say) luck in the world, Rodrick was waiting for her.

“Figured I could ride home with you, since you like being near me so much,” Rodrick called as she approached. Nicole groaned, rolling her eyes.

“I wouldn’t have to get near you if you didn’t a) act like a child, and b) violate pool rules.”

“I’m pretty sure “almost drawing a patron” counts as violating pool rules, Nikky.”

“Don’t call me that,” Nicole spat with no real heat behind it.

“If you’re gonna ride home with me, you’re gonna pay for my slushy,” Nicole called over her shoulder as she started pedaling away.

“Ooo, is this a date?” Rodrick laughed, and Nicole flipped him off without looking. “C’mon, I thought we were getting along since I fixed your tire?”

Nicole, tired of the banter and not able to think of a better response, decided to take mercy on him.

“No… no. We’re cool. I’d rather have my dumb neighbor as a friend than no one at all.”

Rodrick pulled up next to her on his bike, tongue peeking between his teeth as he tried to suppress a grin. “Yeah, you seem cool. At least, your music taste isn’t completely horrible.”

“Oh, and yours is perfect, I’m assuming?” 

“Naturally,” Rodrick said, pedaling faster to pull a wheelie in front of her, obviously trying to show off. In all honesty, it was a pretty cool trick - but Nicole would never tell him that. The evening was cooling down, but the sun was still a couple hours from setting, so everything had a deep golden glow - the trees seemed greener, and the grass softer, and random birds would occasionally chirp from deep within the woods. The world felt alive and wonderful and terribly, terribly exciting.

“So, why the hell did you move to Plainview?” Rodrick asked. 

“Wasn’t like it was my choice. My Dad got a new job, and my Mom works from home so she can take care of us - so me and my two little sisters just got the short end of the straw.”

“You have sisters?” 

“Yeah, Caroline and Georgia. Do you have siblings?”

Rodrick rolled his eyes, “Yeah, two shit head little brothers, Greg and Manny. Well, Manny isn’t really a shit head, ‘cause he’s like three, but I know he will be once he hits four.”

Nicole laughed. They were nearing the gas station she liked to get slushies from, so she suddenly started pedaling faster and yelled behind her, “First one there buys!”

She narrowly made it there before him, laughing at his red face and shaking legs as he dismounted his bike.

“No one should be that fast,” he panted, but smiled as he opened the door for her. 

The blast of air conditioning felt good on Nicole’s heated skin, and she made a B-line for the slushy machine.

“Blue raspberry is the obvious best choice,” Nicole said, filling her cup up to the brim.

“No way, cherry is the only valid flavor,” Rodrick said, already munching on a bag of sour gummy worms. She raised an eyebrow at him and he simply winked in response, causing Nicole to turn her head away when she felt the heat rise to her cheeks.

Rodrick paid for their stuff and they spent the rest of the bike ride home trying to throw gummy worms at each other and catch them in their mouths.

“So.. there's a van. Outside your house. With your band name on it,” Nicole said, pointedly looking at him. Rodrick looked straight ahead.

“Yeah.” 

“And yet, you’re out here riding your bike. With me.”

“Yeah.”

“So what's the hold up? You don’t have your license yet or something?”

“I can drive!” Rodrick said indignantly, his voice cracking slightly, causing you to throw your head back in laughter.

“I’m saving up money to get it fixed,” he grumbled, pulling another wheelie.

“Doing tricks won’t distract me from this, Rodrick.

“Fine. Once its fixed, I’ll take you for a ride, deal?”

“Deal,” Nicole said primly, taking a sip of her slushy. 

Sooner than she thought, they ended up in front of their respective homes. The time had flown by - she hadn’t even noticed they were close.

She was about to wave goodbye and turn to go up her driveway when Rodrick cleared his throat.

“Hey, um… my band and I - we’re having practice tonight. Again. We have a gig later this week so we wanna practice as much as possible. Uhm. Would you wanna stop by? You can bring your guitar or whatever,” he said, looking down at his shoes that he was currently scuffing against the sidewalk.

“How do you know I play guitar?”

Somehow, Rodrick looked even more sheepish. “Uh, you left your window open, earlier. When you were practicing.”

This time, Nicole was the one to blush. Fuck. She hadn’t even thought about any one being able to hear her. And after Rodrick told her Loded Diper was originally a Motley Crue cover band.... Oh, he definitely knew she was whipped. Fuck!

“Haha, oh, yeah… uh, sure. I can come over.”

Rodrick grinned - a genuinely excited smile, not his usual impish smirk. It made Nicole’s heart stutter in her chest.

“Come over in an hour - I’ll get snacks.”

Nicole turned away without another word, deciding they would have plenty more to say to each other very soon. But fucking hell, what was she going to wear?

[moonlit-imagines]

warnings:

a/n:

requested by @maryhuffxoxo

“Everyone meet y/n, they’re going to be babysitting Manny while we’re out of town!” Mrs. Susan Heffley showcased you to the whole family while you awkwardly stood there waving.

“Babysitter? Why would you hire a babysitter if we’re here?” Rodrick asked with his feet propped up on the table, which his dad quickly swatted down and began to speak.

“Because, son,” he sighed, “I don’t want another incident like your secret party. We’re paying y/n a little extra to keep you and Greg in line, too.” The boys’ jaws dropped at this news, leaving you to scratch your head in embarrassment. You really hoped nothing too crazy would happen within the next few days, but never say never.

“What? That’s ridiculous!” Greg spoke up and was immediately answered by his mother.

“Well, as long as you behave, you have nothing to worry about, got it?”

—————

The first few days went pretty smoothly, Greg stuck to playing video games and Rodrick stuck to playing drums, so you didn’t have to order around the guy who was the same age as you. That would be awkward, especially when you had to go back to school and see him in second, fourth, and fifth period.

You and Manny played and watched TV in the living room, what a sweet and interesting kid. Kind of gross sometimes, but that’s just what kids are like, I guess. Anyways, after a long session of playing with megablocks, you put Manny to bed for a nap and watched some of your own shows in the meantime. The Office was the only good thing on at this hour, so you settled. Wasn’t long before Rodrick heard the theme song and barreled down the stairs, hearing something that wasn’t “Bob the Builder” meant that Manny wasn’t downstairs anymore.

“Oh, hi, Rodrick.” You turned to him and back to the TV, flinching when he hopped over the couch and sat next to you.

“Hey, y/n.” The oldest Heffley son leaned a little closer and smiled at you. “How’s Manny been today? Good, I hope?” His line of questioning was a bit out of character for him, but you really only knew him in school, so...

“He’s been good so far, just put him down for a nap...” You nodded and looked back at the program you were watching. “What have you been up to today?”

“Oh, me? Nothing much. Just listening to music and all that.” He explained, realizuhe was running out of things to say. You didn’t get it, but Rodrick had formed a liking to you, he saw you as sweet and caring, actually nice to have around. He hoped that after this week of babysitting, you might come back. Maybe as his significant other?

There was a couple minutes of silence, minus a few drawn-out chuckles from Rodrick and some sharp nose-exhales after watching this show. At the commercial break, Rodrick finally peeped up again.

“So, maybe after you get Manny to bed tonight, me and you could hang out down here? Watch a movie or something? What do you say?” He asked, you noticed him fidgeting a bit, but I mean, it could be fun? There wasn’t a lot to do around here, maybe you could give it a chance...

“...Okay. You’re on, Heffley.”

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