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coffeegranate · 1 year

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finally, s5 of my collection of jon shitposts is complete. the meme WAS relevant when i sketched this originally and now ages my joke like a fine wine. at least my anatomy got better i think!

[ID:

A digital drawing of Jon and Martin in profile view from season 5 of The Magnus Archives. The two are stood in front of a background where the entirety of the sky resembles a large green eye. It is lined by silhouettes of houses, debris, lampposts and electric posts to give it a rounded shape. Two drones are flying in the sky in the distance.

Jon is facing the left with his arm outstretched towards the sky. He is a thin man with brown skin, with pockmark scars on his face and a burn scar shaped like a hand on his outstretched hand. His expression is forlorn and his eyes, of which there are two pairs, are black and have neon green irises. He has patchy dark stubble on his chin, which is the same colour as his long curly hair. He wears it tied back, and grey streaks are prominent throughout it. Jon wears a black turtleneck and black jeans with a red plaid long coat. Five green transparent eyes are around his head in a crown-like formation

Martin is a fat caucasian man facing the right. He is leaning into Jon, who is shorter, with a hand clutching his chest. His other hand is down and holding Jon’s free hand. He has a messy ginger mullet with white streaks in it, and his fringe covers eyes that are closed behind glasses. He is unnaturally pale and has similar pockmark scars to Jon. He has black spike-like plugs in his ears and a septum piercing. Martin is wearing a teal hoodie over a navy shirt, which black jeans and a blue denim jacket. The jacket has a transgender pride button pin on the lapel. Parts of him are drifting to the right of the image in a cloud like manner, and fog hides a majority of his legs. His expression is also melancholy.

The text on the image reads “Can we pretend that airplanes in the night sky are like shooting stars? I could really use a wish right now…” in an unnecessarily swirly font.

END ID]

#my art #tma #the magnus pod #the magnus archive fanart #the magnus archives #magnus archives #tma s5 #tma s5 spoilers #tma jon #jonathan sims #tma martin #martin blackwood #jonmartin #digital artist #digital art

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evillandscaper · 1 month

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Okay guys I'm gonna do a breakdown of a few of my personal hcs for the main 3 of both s1 and s2!!! This includes little doodles of how I draw em differently !!!

Let's start off with Olive :3 there's a LOT under the cut.

Okay, so Olive's really active, right? To me, she's always been brains AND brawn. So since she's out in the sun all the time, she has a tan!

She's also lightly scarred in my version, if you look carefully. Those were gathered out on cases. I hc that she has a LOT of battered uniforms that Otto sews/embroids together. Also, if you squint, you can see my version has light eyebags. It's not that she doesn't sleep, she's just fed up with everyone.

Her hair is messier! She comes into work all prim and proper, but leaves it all disheveled. If it's a more tiring day, she'll run her hand through her hair. Also, red hair tie instead of black, just cause I find it cuter.

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Olive is half Quebecois, half Vietnamese

- Her last name is Tremblay

- Her full name is Olivia, she just shortens it

- She's terrible at English and can't write an essay to save her life, but is very good at analysis

- She eats green skittles first, and thinks the purple ones are awful

- For their halfiversary, Otto got her an olive branch shaped tie pin that she wears whenever she feels fancy

Next up: OTTO!!

The urge to change his hair was carnal in my soul. It's the Asian canon event. It happened to me, and it happened to him. Just to make things a little bit more fun for me to draw, I let his hair grow out a little bit... yknow the awkward stage after a bowl cut grows out a bit? Yeah, that.

Downturned eyes! Just so he and Olive can contrast a bit more. He's soft, she's sharp. They're silly!!!

I also make sure his mole is always at least partially visible. It's such a cool part of him, and I can't believe they cover it up most of the time in canon...

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He always has his blazer undone

- He's an excellent cook, but becomes immediately incompetent once someone is watching

- He's strangely good at identifying plants, and has a habit of picking edible ones and eating them straight from the ground

- He's good at English! Not the best, but better than Olive

- His last name is Garcia

- For their halfiversary, Olive got him a cast iron pan. He doesn't use it to cook, and instead swings it at anyone who makes fun of him or Olive

Next up: OSCAR!!!

I honestly don't have much for Oscar. I love him, but don't think about him that much.

He has messier hair and is just a LOT more disheveled in general!!! Close your eyes in the bullpen at any given moment and I bet you could hear something in the lab blowing up.

He's perpetually sweaty. Damp palm guy. Maybe that's why he keeps dropping gadgets...

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He's very bad at telling the time. On vacation, he'll never know what day of the week it is

- He knows how to play the otamatone surprisingly well. He can make them talk, and has conversations with one the way one would with a sock puppet

- He never knows what significant figures to use, so he ends up just ballparking everything and just not measuring in general. Maybe that's why everything in the lab is always blowing up

- He has a full denim outfit saved up for formal occasions. I'm talking denim hat, shirt, jacket, pants, shoes, all denim

- His last name is Collins

OLYMPIA NEXT!!!!

Okay so there's a lot of hearing me out you guys will need to do.

Anna Cathcart is half Chinese and half irish!!! Thus, I gave Olympia monolids to accentuate that factor. I also downturned her eyes and thinned her "lashes" to make it more obvious that I'm portraying her as wasian!

I gave her freckles and rounder glasses for the vibe. She's just a soft character to me, and I really want to make her look the part.

She's got messy hair!! It's based on the little half fringes she had in very early s2, which I thought were adorable. Her ponytail's also higher just so she looks different from Olive!!

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Olympia knows floriography, and will get very hurt if you give her the wrong flowers

- Conversely, she thinks she's being really rude if she puts a tansy on someone's desk to show that she's upset and will feel bad about it all day

- She always carries a little salamander named Josh in her pocket

- She can speak Yiddish

- She has a massive storage of those flippable sequin shirts and has one for every occasion

- She put her hair into a ponytail bc of Olive (this one is courtesy of @/starboundsingularities!!!!!), but the more she found herself, the higher up she tied it

- Her last name is Carter-Ng

Next up: Otis!!!

I draw him a little sickly for no particular reason. He's just silly like that.

He's not that different from canon tbh! I have his hair in an undercut because I think it looks cool on him (plus it's easier to draw), and he has eyebags because of ... the vibe.

He has a notch taken out of his ear due to an injury! From what, he won't say .

Miscellaneous hcs:

- He listens to royalty free music unironically

- He's going through his Alan Walker phase

- He has barely legible handwriting, but can draw surprisingly well

- He types like an old man, with the "............" and everything

- His last name is Otis. His full name is Otis Otis. This one is also courtesy of @/starboundsingularities I love it so much

Last but not least: OONA!!!!!

She's really going through it.

Fun fact: Olivia Presti has curly hair!!! That means that Oona should have curly (or at least wavy) hair... but she doesn't. Which is honestly so sad.

But I can always mitigate that, so I draw her hair wavy. I guess it's more extremely frazzled than wavy, but it's the same effect in the end.

EYEBAGS. She doesn't sleep after The Incident. She also has downturned eyes, just because she gives off that vibe.

Miscellaneous hcs:

- Oona is a regular customer of a local rage room

- She knows how to use a crossbow to a mildly terrifying extent

- If a flight of stairs has a railing, she'll slide down it. She almost always ends up falling

- Her last name is Silva

- She says she knows how to speak Polish, but she only knows a select few words and doesn't know what they mean. They're all curse words.

- Subsequently, Oona is banned from several Polish restaurants across the city

That's all!! They're all so silly :3

#odd squad #odd squad pbs kids #agent olive #olive odd squad #agent otto #otto odd squad #agent olympia #olympia odd squad #agent otis #otis odd squad #agent oona #oona odd squad #my art #i love them dearly i really do

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darlingdawnvintage · 8 months

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Vintage 1980’s Western Style Jean Jacket Fringed with turquoise accents 🏜️ see my Etsy link to shop!

http://darlingdawnvintage.Etsy.com

#vintage fashion #shop vintage #vintage #vintage shop #western wear #vintage western #jean jacket #vintage denim #fringe #turquoise #horse #cattle #cowgirl #western style #80s aesthetic #vintage shopping

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tomiochan · 6 months

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PAPILION Set | TOMIOCHAN

DOWNLOAD - Opium Colections

1 Swatches | Fringe Denim Pants

1 Swatches | Butterfly Denim Jacket

New base mesh

All L.O.D.S

Male

Recolor is not allowed.

Do not re-upload, re-distribute.

Don't claim as your own.

Do not convert into any game.

Follow and tag me on socials | Instagram , Tumblr or Pinterest

#ts4cc #ts4 #thesims4cc #ts4 custom content #ts4community #ts4customcontent #ts4ccfinds #ts4c #ts4malecc #opium #opium gang

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heavyhighlandheart · 11 months

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Hawkins Hellraiser Pt.1

My first fic writing in yeaaaars, any comments welcome!!

Chapter One: The Class

Summary: You're the new outcast at HH and Eddie is obsessed. Enemies to friends to lovers.

Warnings: swearing, use of the words freak, slut and bitch.

Pairing: Reader not gendered but hinted at female.

w/c: 1.2k

“Fucking shithole,” you say to yourself, looking at the entrance to Hawkins High. The tiger banners hung proudly and you scoffed, another jock-ridden swamp. Your headphones hung around your neck, attached to the Walkman in your bag, scuffed up from you dropping it so many times and taped up at the edges to keep it shut. You know you could just buy another, but as long as it plays your cassettes, it still fucking works.

You put your headphones back in their place amongst your mess of curly hair, styled with Stevie Nicks and Joey Ramone in mind, but there wasn’t much you could do to tame it. Your fringe hung just above your lashes, where you wore a thin slip of eyeliner and a touch of mascara, nothing too fancy, and you couldn’t be bothered with anything else. Your headphones tugged on your collection of ear piercings, drawing a slight grimace to your mouth. Pressing play, the bouncy intro of Dreams by Fleetwood Mac began, one of the only songs that could ease your anxious mind and racing heart. This whole cassette, in fact, was one of your own making, a compilation of your favourites. Ms O’Donnell’s was your first class of the day, according to the schedule stuffed in your pocket. “Get in, get out,” you think to yourself. Just a few more months of this and you’re finished with school and free to do whatever you please. “I just need to graduate”.

All eyes are on you as you walk down the corridor. Your music is too loud to hear their whispers, but you can read their lips, “freak”, “slut”, “bitch”, sometimes in the same sentence. You’d heard it all before and the words passed right over you, in a way it had become empowering. You liked being the outcast because you knew nobody would come near you, and therefore nobody could hurt you. The chains hanging from your belt clinked against your hips, your black jeans hugging your legs in all the right places. Your black Docs were worn in places. They were at least twenty years old now, but still had life in them. They were the only gift your father ever gave you, even if they were hand-me-downs. You wore a ripped black vest, the faint outline of The Who’s logo still clinging to the torn fabric and threatening to show more skin than school would allow. Your blue denim jacket was your staple, you wore it with everything. The sleeves had been haphazardly cut off with kitchen scissors, a brass button was missing and the collar was about as straight as the curls on your head. A Metallica patch took centre stage on the back of your jacket. Ride the Lightning had been released a couple of years before, and you’d had it on repeat for months following. Smaller patches covered the front of the jacket, Thin Lizzy, Whitesnake, Fleetwood Mac, Blondie. Your taste was a tad eclectic, you could handle the pop they played on the radio but rock was your muse, and heavy metal had you in a chokehold.

Walking into the classroom, you find that most seats are already taken. You pull your headphones down around your neck before reaching into your bag and pressing pause on the Walkman. “Hey, another freak!” a jumped-up basketball jock shouts from the back of the room. You shoot daggers at the overly-pretty blue eyes and flip him off while taking an empty seat in the middle of the room.

Eddie couldn’t keep his eyes off you. Never had he seen someone who was so much like him, and yet so different, especially in Hawkins. You could feel eyes on you, but assumed it was just everyone staring and not just one person. You’d missed him as you walked in. He sat at the back of the classroom in the far corner, on a come-down from last night’s high and feeling a little groggy. He was leaning back on his chair and drumming on the desk with a pencil he’d found on the floor, of course he never brought his own. He dropped it when he saw you, which startled him and seemed to wake him up. He now leaned forward over his desk, arms falling over the edge, and then leaning on his elbows and then messing up his hair. He didn’t know how to hold himself.

“Mr Munson, do you need something?” Ms O’Donnell asked. “Uh no, I’m good,” Eddie replied sheepishly, “just uh- can’t wait to get started with class, of course”. Ms O’Donnell shook her head and turned to write on the blackboard. You smirked as you got out your textbook and notepad, discreetly chewing a sweet, apple-flavoured gum.

It wasn’t long before class was over, and you only had three spitballs in your hair, courtesy of the boneheads in basketball garb. You brush them out as you leave the room, a common gift received at every school you’ve been to. You’ve only got five minutes to get to your next class and you hate being late, so you pick up your pace as you enter the corridor. You hear the shuffling and squeaking of shoes on the floor behind you.

“Hey! - Hey, wait!”

Eddie catches up to your side, you glance at him briefly then continue to stare straight ahead, on a mission to get to your next class.

“So uh- you like Metallica?” You don’t respond, you’re just here to get in and get out. “I’ve seen them live three times, they’re so fffucking sick. Have you heard the new album yet? It’s only been out like a couple of weeks but it’s so awesome. I’ve already learned Master of Puppets and, it’s well- it’s uh- not perfect but like- it’s just got this awesome fucking riff that goes like th-”

You whip around, hand on Eddie’s chest, pushing him into the nearest lockers with a hard thud, startling other passing students who start to scurry away. Your Docs add an extra couple of inches to your height, making you tower over Eddie as he’s slumped against the cold metal.

“Listen, Munson- I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to do my shit and get out, okay?” Eddie was paralysed, his mouth open but making no sound, the smell of sweet apple on your lips making his stomach flutter. He looked down at your hand gripping his shirt and gulped, his mouth suddenly felt dry. “You keep to yourself, and I’ll keep to myself, got it?” Eddie nodded desperately, his lips now closed, “mm-hmm”, he agreed.

You felt powerful standing over him like this, it was a new feeling, a good feeling. You released your grip and Eddie slid from the lockers, catching his balance. You kept your stare on his big, brown eyes; they looked so innocent, it tugged on your heart a little. You walked away, headphones back on, pressing play on the Walkman, Creeping Death coming in fast. Eddie watched you leave, looking you up and down. He scoffed, running his hands through his own curls. Laughing to himself he playfully punched a nearby locker, sending a rumble along the wall. “Let’s see what you’ve got, Blondie.”

#eddie munson #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x y/n #stranger things 4 #eddie munson stranger things #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #enemies to friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #eddie fluff #eddie munson fluff

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themakeupbrush · 3 months

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What are your thoughts on the Schiaparelli tech baby, specifically in regards to any sort of societal commentary but also in terms of the rest of the collection?

Collection description from Daniel Roseberry

If there's one thing Schiaparelli is good at, it's having a weird showstopper that everyone will be talking about. It always feels a little gimmicky but clearly it works and keeps fashion week interesting, so I'm not complaining. Also, Daniel Roseberry's dedication to fashion + couture is always inspiring. You can read an article here where he complains about people feeding his work through AI, being inspired by other couture icons, and honoring a member of the atelier who's retring.

I think they accomplished the classic Schiaparelli goal of putting two unlikely things together and making them work, but to me this collection kind of felt like it had one too many design concepts going on. It had extraterrestrial, technology, texas cowboy, and then all the iconic Schiaparelli design elements. The outfits on their own were great and cohesive, but it kind of made the show feel like it was all over the place.

Collection description from Daniel Roseberry:

In 1877, Elsa Schiaparelli’s uncle Giovanni Schiaparelli, the director of the Brera Observatory in Milan, discovered something new: a series of channels, an area as large as the Grand Canyon, scoring the surface of Mars. He also coined the term “Martian”, and inadvertently began our modern fascination with creatures from out there, a fascination that continues to this day. So it makes sense that space has always been an informal code of the Maison. Elsa was, famously, preoccupied with astrology, and why not? Looking to the stars was clearly a family pastime. This collection is an homage to that obsession, as well as a study in contradictions — of legacy and the avant-garde, of the beautiful and the provocative, of the earthbound and the heaven-sent. But as art (and nature) teaches us again and again, the things and ideas that seem diametrically opposed to each other can also combine to make startling chimeras, objects composed of familiar parts that, when united, create something unexpected and new It is, in fact, one of the Maison’s guiding philosophies: Elsa was committed to unlikely marriages win her own design, and the looks in this collection honor that tradition, combining old world techniques (such as over-embroidered guipure laces, velvet and lace appliqués, and hand cut and embroidered chenille fringe) with new world shapes, patterns, and references (such as a motherboard-and-strasse microchip dress encrusted with pre-2007 technological artifacts — now, the technology I grew up with is so antiquated that it’s almost as difficult to source as certain vintage fabrics and embellishments). They also unite her personal references with my own: you’ll see abstracted references to iconographies of my home state of Texas throughout, from the bandana, here remade in hand-painted paillettes; to the cowboy boot, reconceived as a thigh-high fantasy bristling with buckles; to the iconic horse braid dressage knots redone as silk satin spikes and smothering a camel suede bomber jacket and a white denim corset suit. Elsa was famous for her codes — the keyhole, the measuring tape, anatomical body parts — and we’ve embedded them like Easter eggs in jewelry, shoes, clutches, and embroidery, a secret message from us to the woman who wears them. The result are a series of profiles both familiar and not — part human, part something else. And, therefore, totally Schiaparelli.

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fbfh · 2 years

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loded diper's new guitarist hcs

pairing: loded diper (ben, chris, ward, and rodrick) + reader, future rodrick x (gn) reader

wc: 1.9k

warnings: unsupportive parents, country music, reader has a younger sister and another sibling greg and manny's ages, mentions of making out, one use of the phrase hooking up but like in the vague sense yk, second hand embarrasment (showing up to a rock audition dressed like a country music star), all of them think you're really hot

a/n: welcome to more fics that are from my scripts lmao,, rodrick deserves more love tbh

also imagining this during the audition

tags: @yesv01 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit

You love music

You've loved singing and performing in any way shape or form that you possibly can since you were a baby

You know in your heart and soul, with every fiber of your being that you're going to be performing in the music industry someday

You don't know when

You might not even know specifically what you'll be doing

But you know deep in your bones that you'll be on stage belting your heart out

That's all you know and that's all you care about

Your career planning teachers HATE you

They hate that you refuse to consider a backup plan

You know that's probably smart for other people, but you don't need a backup plan

You’re going to be on stage, singing and performing

Your family thinks you're crazy

They think you're delusional, that you're going to get torn to shreds by the real world

Every "be realistic", every "and how's that going to work out?", every eye roll and shared look when you tell them you got a new instrument or are going to practice your guitar hurts

Of course it would

But more importantly it's more and more people to prove wrong

You have a list of what achievements your parents feel need to be met to have made it as a successful musician

They were trying to give you a wake up call about how hard it is to make it in the industry

You drew little check boxes next to each line and have it hanging on your wall in between band posters and concert tickets

Every jab from someone that should have your back is one more name on that list of people to prove wrong

It's strangely motivating

The most frustrating part of all this is that no one sees how hard you work for this

You've taken every gig, every odd job that involves singing and music and performing that you can find

You've dressed up as various popular characters and lead karaoke and sing alongs at kids parties, been a tooth fairy's assistant at a kindergarten, a keyboard playing mascot at a car dealership, and most recently, a tribute act to a famous country star performing at retirement homes

Seniors in plainview really like country music for some reason

Once word got around, at least twice a week you get all dressed up in the polar opposite of your usual self

Down to a cow print cowboy hat, garish boots, and a rhinestone fringe denim jacket

You whip out your acoustic guitar and sing some hits from the 60s and 70s to the seniors there who tell you that you have such a nice voice, why aren't all kids your age like this, back in my day etc etc

And a lot of them tip really, really well

So even though it’s not something you’d normally even consider, it’s a gig

It’s a paying gig

Which makes you a professional musician

So you’ll happily take it

Your parents have been talking about moving to another part of town for a while, and after months of looking, finally found a nice place on Surrey Street

The only problem is you would be in a different school district, and have to transfer to Crossland high which has the most shitty theatre and arts programs ever

Which makes it a hard no from you

Your younger siblings aren't to happy about it either, but are very quickly won over by the idea of having their own rooms, leaving you out voted

You had even tried to bribe the youngest by letting him touch your guitar, something he always tries to do as soon as your back is turned, but it was already decided

The only way they got you on board at all was with the (very reluctant) promise of guaranteed practice space in the attic and slightly less babysitting duty

Right before the move, you're at a gig at a retirement home

Leisure something? Towers, village, something like that

It's closer to where you're moving, so that’s something

Part way through your set, you're very thrown off guard by the surprisingly hot piece of ass that's a dead ringer for Billie Joe Armstrong watching you play at the back of the room

He and a kid that looks around the same age as your sister are standing next to one of the older guys

Mr. Heff-something?

You can't remember

But goddamn that guy is hot

By the time your set is finally done, you thank them with your signature twang that you spent hours perfecting in your room

You watched interviews of country singers for a week straight until you got it perfectly right

The hot guy and leaves with who you're assuming are his brother and grandpa before you can even consider approaching him and your heart sinks a little

You’re thinking maybe there will be some hot guys at Crossland, even though your hopes aren’t high

On your way out, you see a blue piece of paper on one of the coffee tables towards the back of the room you’d been playing in

You pick it up and your heart starts pounding

Wanted: gutarist for a rock band. Must know how to shread.

You skim the rest of the flier

You’re so excited you don’t even notice the glaring typos scattered across the page

A rock band

You were finally going to be able to audition for a rock band

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t freaking out

But the auditions are at the end of the week

And you have a gig that day

You type the addresses into your phone

It’s only a few blocks down the street from your new house

If you get the timing right, you should be able to get home and change out of your country music getup, then make it there before auditions are over

That also means you’re going to have like, no time to prepare

The next three days are spent practicing nonstop

Much to your family’s dismay

Your little sister barges into your room, hands over her ears

She’s never been shy about her disdain for your beloved rock and pop punk music

“I have a spelling bee tomorrow.” she states

“Sick,” you reply, not looking away from what you’re doing

“I have to focus!” she says

“Same!” you reply, tone sarcastically chipper

“I can’t focus with all this racket.”

You toss her a pair of headphones and go back to playing

She leaves with a scoff

She’s always been very straight laced and rule oriented

You have always been the “rules are meant to be broken” type

You do not see eye to eye at all

You never really have

This week is jam packed for you

You have to finish packing everything up because you’re finally moving into your new house, you have a gig at the end of the week, and that audition the same day

You can totally handle this

You can so totally handle this

That’s what you tell yourself as you scramble out to your car after your gig, which has somehow run tremendously late

You barely manage to make it to 12 surrey street, grabbing your guitar and scrambling towards the garage, where the audition flier is taped

“I’m telling you man, no one’s going to show. Let’s just call it-”

“Hi, is this the guitarist audition for the rock band?” You ask

Four punky looking guys stand in the garage you just entered, all eyes on you

One is holding a bass, one’s next to a mic, one of them is wearing a t shirt that says “loded diper", and one is standing in front of a well loved drum kit

You recognize the last one as the hot guy from your last gig, and your heart flip flops in your chest

“...yeah.” the hot guy says

You introduce yourself, rambling a little about how much you love music and how long you’ve been playing

They don’t seem sold

“Can you shred?” hot guy asks

“Yeah, totally.” you state

The guy next to the mic says something quietly to the hot guy and he shrugs

“Show us what you got.”

A few minutes later, you’ve played your way through some pop punk classics and a few personal favorite riffs and guitar solos

Watching their jaws drop when you nailed the guitar solo in I’d hate to be you by mayday parade was something you really enjoyed

They’re stunned as you finally finish playing, and let out a satisfied sigh

“Told you I could shred.”

Honestly, Rodrick was sold on you when he saw you playing guitar at his grandpa’s retirement home

He had no idea how you’d gotten a flier, he figures one fell out of his bag or something

And now he’s thanking a god he’s not sure he believes in that it did

That it brought you here

Because you are exactly what they need

He shares a look with Chris, Ben, and Ward

There’s no way they can turn your down

And not just because you’re the only person who showed up to the audition

You’re amazing

Ben sighs

“I mean, we’ll need to do something about the look, but-”

“Oh god no,” you interject, “I don’t normally look like this. It’s for a gig.”

After some introductions and exchanging numbers, you’re ready to meet up for practice twice a week

You smile, elated that it went this well in spite of the bumps in the road along the way

You thank them again before you leave

They watch you exit the garage and get into your car, letting out a muffled cheer before heading out

“...Okay,” Rodrick starts, “new rule - no dating band members. No matter how hot they are.” He mutters the last part, and everyone very, very reluctantly agrees

Are you the hottest person he’s seen in a very long time? Yes!

Are you the best guitarist in plainview hands down? Fuck yeah!

Is your hotness amplified by how excited you are to be in loded diper in spite of their terrible reputation? Abso-fucking-lutley!

But Rodrick won’t let anything jeopardize the future of this band

He knows all the guys think you’re hot

Like really hot

So if they can navigate this

If they can write some more songs and book a few more gigs without anyone hooking up or making out with anyone else (cough cough with you) he’ll consider that a huge success

Lying in bed that night, Rodrick decides there’s no way you can be hot enough to break the no dating band members rule

That decision is challenged when you show up to practice in grungy eyeliner and a worn ramones t shirt

And it’s challenged further when you start playing together because jesus fucking christ you’re good

You’re exactly what this band needs, he reminds himself

The band needs a guitarist, not their guitarist and drummer making out in secret

But with the way you’re looking at Rodrick, watching him play, the feeling is mutual

And it’s a matter of time before the rising tension becomes too much and someone cracks

Because not only do you get to be in a band, you get to be in a band with a stupid hot guy that looks like the pop punk star you’ve had a crush on since middle school

This won’t be a recipe for disaster

Not at all

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #rodrick

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