#mattie rogers

[clarkkantagain]

matt rogers

[socked-men]

[f4llen4st4r]

f4llen4st4r's navigation

ABOUT ME, ── anastasia. 9teen. multifandom. marvel. tlou. dc. writer.

➼ wips

➼ rules

⋆ Tony Stark

⋆ Joe Goldberg

⋆ Matt Murdock

⋆ Miguel O’Hara

⋆ Andy Barber

⋆ Bucky Barnes

⋆ Steve Rogers

⋆ Matty Healy

⋆ John Wick

⋆ Markiplier

⋆ Joel Miller

[thelastdj]

Green

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Queen!reader

Genre: flooff

Summary: after the infamous hair dye mishap, (y/n) changes their hair color in solidarity

Warnings: none

I woke up this morning to a loud shrieking coming from somewhere in the house.

“Roger?”

The bed next to me was empty and I got scared. What if something happened to him?

Another yell echoed through the house and I finally got up. There was an old tennis racket in the closet, which I grabbed as I carefully walked into the hall. It wasn’t gonna do much damage but at least it was something.

“Roger?” I called out again, “Are you there?”

“(y/n)?” his voice called from down the hall. Why on earth was he screaming in the bathroom at 7am on a Saturday?

I banged on the bathroom door, “Roger? Rog, are you okay? Open up.”

“I’m okay, don’t worry love”

“Then open up”

“I… I can't,” he said from the other side.

“Is the lock stuck? Hold on, I’ll go get a screwdriver-“

“No!” he sounded panicked.

“My god Roger you’re acting as if you’ve got a girl hidden in there,” I rolled my eyes before rethinking what I’d said, “You don’t, right?”

He scoffed, “Of course I don’t (y/n).”

“C’mon, then what’s so bad that you locked yourself in a bathroom?”

He paused for a few moments. “Please don’t laugh.”

The bathroom lock clicked and Roger finally opened it. At first he looked fine, still dressed in pajamas. And then I saw the atrocity he was hiding. His hair, his beautiful blond locks, that hair that everyone admired, was now a violent shade of green. His face was pulled into an almost comical frown. Despite his plea, I couldn’t help myself, the scene before me was just too funny.

“(y/n),” he whined, “You promised you wouldn’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you.”

“Yeah right,” he grumbled.

“Aw, come on Rog, it’s really not that bad,” I said, running my hands through his newly dyed hair.

“We have a show tonight (y/n)” he said, “I have to go out there with green hair for hundreds of people to see.”

•••

We arrived at the theater at 5pm for sound check. It was a nice place, room for over a thousand people, and we all had our own dressing rooms. I loved the rest of the band, but there were only so many flying hairbrushes I could dodge.

Naturally, the first thing we heard as we made our way backstage was Brian’s, “Nice hair mate.”

“Shut up,” Roger grumbled.

“Hi (y/n),” Brian greeted me cheerily before turning back to Roger, “What on earth were you trying to do?”

Roger desperately looked over at me for help. I just shrugged. As much as I felt bad for him, it was his own mess. And what a funny mess it was too.

“I was trying to dye it blonde,” he said in a small voice.

“Blonde?” John asked incredulously, “You were trying to dye your already blonde hair blonde?”

“I wanted a different kind of blonde.”

“Roger darling, I hate to break it to you but blonde is blonde,” Freddie joked.

“(y/n) they’re bullying me.”

“Aww come here you poor thing,” I dramatically threw my arms around him, “You boys leave Roger alone. Run off and tune your instruments now.”

“You’re no fun,” Freddie replied in mock-annoyance.

But they did leave, one by one, all going to their own dressing room to get ready. The start of the show was drawing nearer by the minute and there were costumes to be donned and guitars to be tuned and eyeliner to be perfected. I too had a lot of preparing to do. There was something I had planned that might make Roger feel at least a little better about his hair.

“Is my hair really that bad?” Roger asked once everyone else had left.

Though he had laughed off the other’s comments, he sounded genuinely worried about going on tonight. I hadn’t seen him like this before a show since the band had started.

“I promise, it’s not as bad as they’re saying. You know them, they have to poke a little fun. They don’t mean it,” I reassured him.

Roger nodded and kissed me gently on the forehead.

“Am I still pretty though?” he asked, batting his eyes. He was right back to his old self.

“You’re still the prettiest boy here.”

“Reeeally?”

“Yes, now go get ready!” I laughed.

He kissed me one last time and headed off to his own dressing room.

We still had an hour left before the show, if I hurried up I would be ready just in time to go on.

•••

“FIVE MINUTES,” a voice boomed through the hall.

I looked in the mirror one last time, messing up my hair just enough to look good, and not like my hairdryer had exploded. The rest of the band was already strapping on guitars and doing last minute warm ups when I got there. Roger’s eyes grew wide as he saw me.

“(y/n)?” he asked in disbelief, “What did you do to your hair?”

Even in the dim backstage lighting, the dyed orange hue of my hair was clearly visible.

“I dyed it,” I explained, “Now you’re not the only one who’s going on looking like they’re from the circus.”

Roger shook his head, “That’s the nicest, and probably dumbest, thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he smiled, “Thank you (y/n/n).”

“Anything for you darling,” I said, giving him a quick kiss.

“TWO MINUTES,” the voice called again.

“Can I ask one thing?”

“Yeah?”

“Why orange?“ he asked jokingly before adding, “At least my green looks cool.”

“Bowie had orange hair and he looks cool as fuck,” I countered.

“I guess you’re right,” he conceded.

“ONE MINUTE.”

Roger quickly leaned over and kissed me. “Good luck,” he smiled and quickly headed over to his drum kit.

I strapped on my guitar and looked over to him one more time. His green hair clashed fantastically with his white shirt. Roger raised his eyebrows as he caught my stare.

I shot him a quick wink as the final call came, “AND… SHOWTIME!”

The last thing I saw before turning to face the crowd was Roger wink back at me. The crowd’s screams and claps were deafening, but soon enough Freddie’s voice overpowered even that.

[red-hot-moon]

Never doubt the Texas Ranger. Ever stalwart!

Matt Damon as LaBoeuf in TRUE GRIT (2010)

[theworstofallpossibleworlds]

This week, Mattie Lubchansky (Boys Weekend) and the lads hop into Benny the Cab and floor it straight to Toontown as they cover Robert Zemeckis' seminal live-action animated triumph: Who Framed Roger Rabbit? Available wherever you get your podcasts!

[roger-and-matti]

Roger's house has gone under several renovations. He started out at Crick Cabana in Willow Creek, that house got expanded until it was time to move to a bigger lot. After that I moved the house to Springscape in Oasis Springs, expanded it yet again and added several floors. I hate extra floors so he had to move to another lot yet again. He stayed in Oasis Springs and got the house moved to Vista Quarry and that's where he remained for a long time.

Roger accumulated wealth and fame. With that celebrity came a need to live among them, so I copied his lot to Chateau Peak, the biggest lot with a beautiful view. Since the lot was so big I decided to do a massive remodel to remove more of the extra floors before moving Roger there. It took a good while to finally be satisfied with it enough to move him on there but I never made it to that point. Fast forward to The Jump: moving him from xbox to the gallery and from there to my new laptop. I decided not to copy the house I remodeled because that would have to be remodeled again because of all the new expansions on the pc. So his house got moved to Red Roan Field in Chestnut Ridge. I did yet another complete remodel that took 2 weeks and a lot of frustration just for the house and greenhouse alone (greenhouse needs to be redone again). I intended to give him a whole ranch but 2 weeks of remodeling I wanted to play and I've been playing since. After Matti became a permanent member of the house hold a few rooms got redecorated with him in mind. Things have been hectic in the Hong household but now that things seem stable it might be time to work on that ranch.

[petruchio]

another alternate ttpd title thought: retrograde

[love-studying58]

SURPRISE!!!!!!

A sneak peek into my fictional series ~ Defenders of the Sky

This snippet is told from Major John Egan’s point of view. This is not the first chapter.

Word Count: n/a for this post.

Author’s Note: All ideas are my own. I will be adding a consistent playlist of songs before each chapter for nearly all the characters I write about. Each chapter will consist of different point of views; multiple perspectives will be present depending on plot events.

Warnings: There will be future mentions of war, extreme slow burn, swearing, death, mentions of POW and concentration camps, nazi guards, historical inaccuracy/timeline inaccuracy, mentions of abuse, PTSD, a soldier’s mental anguish, killing, man/woman relationships, hurt/comfort, pov first person, language, mutual pining, gore, angst, alcohol, smoking, military terminology, sexual tension, enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, death, violence, debilitating mental thoughts, eventual smut.

Thank you for all your requests. I am making an effort to write everyday, so patience on your part is greatly appreciated. I do not want to promise an eventual deadline for completion, but will keep you guys updated.

I do not own HBO, Band of Brothers, The Pacific, or Masters of the Air, nor do I own any of the characters. I mean no disrespect toward any of the actors on this show.

Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for upcoming posts. 🏷

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A rough voice accompanied by a tap on my shoulder rouses me. I groan inwardly, squinting beneath the unremitting beam of light. My whole body is tight from lack of sleep.

“Come on, Major. Breakfast is at four-thirty. Briefing at five-fifteen.” Of course, another mission. I hate the unexpected.

A momentary frisson of annoyance runs through me as I roll onto my back, “I’m up,” I mutter, dismissing the officer until he departs and the harsh, inciped, white light weakens.

I casually position my left bicep under the pillow and close my eyes again, but I know its imperative I get to the briefing as soon as I can.

My head feels thick because of drink, still. The enticement of dancing among young women and the ability to have as many drinks as I preferred felt to congenial. 

Thoughts of two nights prior flood my senses; my dance with Susan.

I liked her, particularly because of her attractive features; her dark mid-length hair and fanned out eyelashes. Her amber-flecked eyes were ones I could drown in. 

Are you sure you like her, just for that matter? The thought is morose. Have you ever liked a woman for more than her features? Was I ever honest, though?

The sobering truth is inconsequential; I’d rather find a distraction and swallow back a few drinks in order to keep my mind halted for a few hours. It’s because of this war. This war. Maybe it could be temporary. War is normal now, Egan, I surmised.

I notice a few of the other men are also awake; the rustling of cotton sheets and disgruntled murmurs are familiar to me now. Our mission won’t end unless our own plane gets blown apart or we land behind German lines; the frailty or mere occurrence of either happening, few cared to discuss.

Watch it, Bucky, Buck Cleven’s voice echoed in my head. He had been staring slightly at me with his usual, calculated, appreciation that night. It’s one dance; not a lifetime. I was too drunk at the time to apprehend what he meant; if it nuanced at teasing, I couldn’t decipher it. Buck’s personality very seldom suggested humour. She might not fancy you. Not even a wry joke.

My senses felt too relaxed and obstructed by the faint stupor of the alcohol. I had responded to him anyways, telling myself I could dance with her if I wanted to, Ah, come on Buck, for once, leave the dancing to me tonight. You’re too involved with Marge to have any fun.

Cleven had watched me, indignant, grinning with easy noncompliance.

I smirk. Good old Buck. Trying to deter my persistence; the only man I know who has a picture of his girl, Marjorie, in his left breast-pocket. Keeps her photo on the dash of his B-17. The only man who decides to dance with Meatball when he could be waltzing with some American Red Cross woman.

Cleven was like that; polished, a man of integrity, one who kept his word. A reliable friend. A friend more than a mere acquaintance.

[tuukkarasksass]

Read Justin’s full letter to his younger self.

Also read ESPN’s Ryan S. Clark’s “Justin Rogers' journey to being out as gay and working in the NHL”

[chuckg2]

undefined

Mattie Rogers

[socked-men]

[roamwithahungryheart]

It actually doesn't surprise me at all that the same people who are defending Matty Healy and think what he did was 'funny' are also defending Roger Waters

[sidonius5]

𝒯𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝒹𝑜𝒸𝓊𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓂 𝓅𝓇𝑜𝒸𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶 𝒹𝑒𝑒𝓅𝑒𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 “𝓖𝓸𝓵𝓭𝓮𝓷 𝓐𝓰𝓮” 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎𝒷𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹. ℐ𝓉 𝒾𝓁𝓁𝓊𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒹𝑒���𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝐌𝐫. 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐌𝐫. 𝐎𝐥𝐲𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐚. ℬ𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓁𝓁𝑜𝓌𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 𝒶𝒹𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈, 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉 𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐨 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐮, 𝐋𝐨𝐮 𝐅𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐀𝐫𝐧𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐳𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝓉𝒾𝒸𝒾𝓅𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝒾𝑔 𝓌𝒾𝓃. ℐ 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝐏𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐈𝐫𝐨𝐧. ℛ𝑒𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇 𝓈𝒾𝓉𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒹𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝑔𝑜 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 ℐ 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒶 𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃, 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒽𝒾𝓂. ℳ𝓎 𝒻𝒶𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝓇𝑜𝒹𝓊𝒸𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒻𝒾𝓁𝓂 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝓁𝒹 𝑜𝒻 𝐌𝐫. 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐳𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝑜𝓃, ℐ'𝓋𝑒 𝒷𝑒𝑒𝓃 𝓂𝒶𝒹𝓁𝓎 𝒾𝓃 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝑒 “𝘼𝙪𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙖𝙣 𝙊𝙖𝙠.” 𝒴𝑜𝓊'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓂𝒶𝓃𝓎 𝒻𝓊𝓉𝓊𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝑜𝓈𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 ℐ'𝓂 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉. 𝒯𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒾𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝒾𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓉𝒸𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝒹𝑜𝒸𝓊𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓎, 𝓎𝑜𝓊'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝓅𝑒𝓉𝒾𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝑜𝓉𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓈𝑒 ℋ𝑒𝓇𝒸𝓊𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓂𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉 𝑜𝒻 𝒷𝑜𝒹𝓎𝒷𝓊𝒾𝓁𝒹𝓊𝓃𝑔.

[the-ship-maker-2]

mattie has her ways- she got dirt on almost everyone from her being "positive'(probably not if you read her story explaining her positivity is a hiding...) She'd probably make Toby confess

Tbh Toby would probably be the one to break first.

[roger-and-matti]

Roger never thought he'd get married.

Matti waited for the day.