#roan fanfic

[luveline]

how’re eddie and roan doing??🫶🏻

(step)mom!reader, 2k

Sometimes you know you’re not good enough for Eddie and his daughter.

It’s a pinprick pain in the same place. The tiniest fear turned to heat.

“I’m gonna get you!” he warns.

“No, you’re not!” Roan stands at the other side of the room. With the door at her father’s back, she has no proof to substantiate her claim, but she makes it anyway. “You’re slow!”

You sit on the end of the bed with one leg hanging off, a socked foot brushing the carpet. Your legs are aching and the bottom of your spine feels bruised, so you aren’t joining in tonight. You watch them glare and giggle at one another.

Your head hurts between your eyes.

Eddie makes a ‘scary’ face and runs across the room to grab her. She squeals in terrified delight and races for the bed, climbing up behind you and over it, swapping places with him easily, or so she thinks. She’s slower than he is, and can’t escape his grabbing hands as he leaps for her on your bed, flattening your stepdaughter into a pancake.

“No, no,” she laughs beneath him.

Eddie braces his arms either side of her. “I told you’d I’d get you,” he says in a menacing voice, like a character from a movie, he can do a hundred different impressions. “You’ve stolen your last Twinkie, child. Be prepared for retribution.”

“I hate retribution!” she shouts.

Eddie laughs like a kid. “You’ll have to learn to love it.”

He grabs the end of her shirt, tugs it up, and drops his face into her stomach to grow the world's most aggressive raspberry. Roan screams the house down, laughing and shrieking as the vibrations tickle her skin. Eddie takes another big breath, lets it out against her bellybutton, even as Roan’s knees come up and jab him in the arm. “Dad, oh my gosh, stop!”

He stops. “You surrender?”

“No.” A third huge raspberry gets pressed into her tummy.

“Give up,” he sing-songs, “you know you can’t defeat me, little Munson.”

“Y/N, please help me,” Roan says, half crawling under Eddie’s weight to grab your arm. “Please save me.”

Your smile is two shades off, but she doesn’t notice, and you wouldn’t want her to. “I can’t, princess, only a knight can save you now.”

Eddie blows a raspberry on her tummy, then her neck. She hates that even more than the tummy ones and flings herself out of his arms with breathless laughter, the urgency of knowing you’re going to be killed by such horrible, painful, excruciating affection. “You,” she says, taking deep breaths as she slinks down onto the floor, “are the worse dad. Ever.” She laughs like taffy. “I’m listening to my body and it says I need some soda.”

“You can have a capri sun,” Eddie says firmly.

She rushes away, runs down the stairs, and it’s all Eddie can do to constrain his usual warning, you can tell. “She’s gonna fall down them,” he says, batting the hair out of his eyes, “and then what will I do?”

You smile weakly. “I don’t know, teddy. Guess we’d have to roll her around in a wheelbarrow for a bit.”

He clambers onto his knees beside you. A spiral curl falls into his eyes. Everybody’s pretty when they smile but Eddie’s a heartbreak when he’s upset, when the corner of his mouth twitches wanting to pull down and his eyes lose their mirth. “Hey, what’s wrong?” With a little more pep, “Are you tired? Hungry?”

“Sorry.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong, so I won’t accept it.” His hand hesitates by your leg. “What’s not okay?”

You shake your head, not wanting to look at him anymore. He’s prettier than you are, with a better heart. He’s a great father and you’re a shitty mom. You have less practice than he has, sure, but you can’t do anything right for Roan lately, you mess up her lunch and forget to buy her yoghurts when you’re coming home even though Eddie called you twice to make sure you got them. He didn’t even get mad. If he asks you one more time what’s wrong, you’re gonna burst into tears.

He doesn’t ask.

Eddie wraps an arm heavily over the back of your shoulders and neck. The other vys for your hand in your lap, his knuckles brushing against your thigh. “You’re not feeling up to it, is that what it is? Maybe you’re tired,” he suggests, with all his usual tenderness. You’re struck with a memory of him when you’d first started dating, how awkward he could be and how he’d shoved it aside when you had one of your worst days at work. He’d surprised you outside, Roan waiting in his backseat, promising to take you home and make you a home cooked meal. You’d eaten it under his arm like this.

There were moments before you’d been his girlfriend where you worried he wasn’t gonna let you have him. That he wasn’t gonna want you, that you’d move on from each other and have to pretend it never happened. But he’s whispering in your ear, hand latched onto your arm and rubbing circles into the tired muscle there without thought. “You can tell me anything,” he’s saying, “you know you can, just tell me what’s bothering you, don’t like it when you’re quiet…”

“Just had a bad day,” you say, tight and squeezed, so clearly evident that you’re gonna cry.

“At work?”

“All day.”

“Why? What’s bad?” he asks.

Nothing, you think, nothing’s bad, nothing is different than usual, but you feel awful. Like your hearts trying to invert itself in your chest, an upset with notes of panic.

“You know what I think it is?” he asks when you don’t answer, his demeanour dipping further and further into tenderness. “I think you didn’t eat enough at dinner, and you didn’t get enough sleep last night, and now you could use a shower and a hug and maybe a little time to yourself. When was the last time you had an hour for you?”

Your eyes crinkle tightly, your mouth twists. You get that weird rush of tingles all over your face and the heat of collecting tears. “It’s not like that,” you insist. “I love you, I don’t want time away from you, I swear.”

“I don’t want time away from you.” He kisses your cheek, twice, a third time, each one with more pressure than the kiss before. “I just mean… I don’t know, baby, I just thought you might be dealing with a lot.”

The worst thing bursts out of you, because you need him to tell you it’s not true. “I’m such a bad mom.”

The crying is unfortunate and immediate, your shoulders seizing under his arm. Eddie could tell it was coming, you’re sure, he doesn’t baulk, he never does.

“You’re not a bad mom, you’re a great mom,” he says, followed by a great wave of shushing.

“I’m awful, I’m supposed to be so much better, I can’t even remember her snacks.”

“Snacks are a really huge part of being a mom,” he says, “but she doesn’t care. She forgave you the moment you said sorry. You think she cares about her yoghurts? That’s not why she sits there waiting everyday after school, is it?”

“You asked me to get them and I forgot.”

“Well, should we call the cops now or later?”

“Eddie.”

He ushers your face into the crook of his neck. “I’m sorry, but you haven’t done anything that would make you a bad mom.”

You’re not Roan’s natural mother, you didn’t carry her, and so you find yourself in a privileged position. She treats you as she would a mom, she calls you mommy every day. You’re still letting her down.

“I love you, and Ro, and I wouldn’t be with someone who doesn’t love her, but you know… you really– you give more effort than we ever asked you to. You’re amazing. I never could have imagined getting to be with someone I love, and who loves my girl like she’s their own.” His murmuring takes the wryness of someone who knows what they’re saying is immeasurably corny, and he doesn’t stop. “She doesn’t know how lucky she is, but I do.”

“She deserves more.”

“She deserves you. You love her.”

You scrub your face, hiding from him behind your fingers. He waits in the quiet, now rubbing your back in large passes of his hand.

“Is that the only thing that’s making you like this?”

“I just feel like… everything I do, I could do better. Everything. And lately I feel so ugly. I thought this stuff would go away,” you confess, letting your hands fall away.

“I don’t think worrying ever goes away. Everybody worries about something.”

He ushers you back, the arm that warmed your shoulders dropping, his hand reaching instead for your face. He thumbs at tearstains and your damp top lip. “Please don’t cry,” he says, “you’re not ugly, you’re the most beautiful girl in the world. You’re killer, you always have been, but it’s my fault you don’t know that. I don’t tell you enough.”

He must tell you everyday, some days he tells you ten times or more. Still, it’s nice to have him say it, to place the blame of your insecurities on him, to try and make it his problem and not yours. It’s extremely loving, if extremely untrue.

“Sorry, Eddie. I think you’re right. Think I need to sleep, and, I don’t know. Stop feeling sorry for myself.” You smile weakly.

“I don’t think that’s what it is. If you need me to tell you what I think about you to feel better, I’ll do it every hour of the day.” He beams at you. “I hate when you cry.”

You huff a laugh. “I wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

“No– No, I don’t mean it like that. Don’t make me an asshole. I’m happy to see you smile again.”

“You give a good pep talk.”

“Can I give you a kiss now, is that alright?”

“If you stop being so nice after.”

Eddie turns his face and kisses you soundly. His hand climbs to your neck, his index finger draws a short, light line up your throat as his lips move against yours, and curls into itself as he pulled away to stroke gently under your chin. Then he gives you a shove, forcing you to lay down.

“Cheer up, dummy. You’re a great mom and you’re gonna be the best wife. Chill out.”

You catch one of his mean hands to hold to your tummy.

He sits there with you for ages. Five minutes turns to ten, then ten to fifteen, nothing else said, but his hand unmoving where you’ve put it.

“Ro!” he calls eventually. “Where’d you go, bub? Are you okay?”

Her mouth is obviously full when she calls back, “I’m okay!”

“That rascal is eating my Twinkies,” he says.

“Go stop her,” you say, pinching his fingers between yours playfully, softly, one at a time.

“We’re having time to ourselves.”

“I don’t need time away from her.”

“I know. But you need time to lay down without somebody bugging you to play, or watch her do a handstand. She’ll come back as soon as she’s hid the evidence, anyways.” He rolls his eyes. “Like I won’t notice.”

You crawl towards him and curl around him, locking him in place. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“It’s literally my favourite thing to do.”

Your front to his back where he’s sitting, your face against the back of his hip, you kiss his t-shirt. He makes a soft sound, breathing out, his hands covering your arm where you’ve hooked him at the waist.

—

more eddie, roan and reader

[narislvr]

ᝰ.ᐟ Hear me out y'all...

── comphet abby w/ ex college bestfriend reader inspired by Good luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan. Where Abby meets up with her old bestfriend after five years of little to no contact outside of occasional instagram post likes and reveals that she's engaged to the guy she had met during their college years. Despite feeling sure of her decision, thinking that this was what she wanted, what she needed, she can't help but reminisce the time where you would look at her like she was all you ever needed. The times where she would spend nights in your bed, arms around your waist as she whispered sweet nothings, all under the guise of "experimenting" even if she knew her true feelings, ones she would never accept herself for. You don't look at her that way anymore though, atleast not that she can tell, and it pains her. And fuck, she hates that, especially when you congratulate her on the engagement with an indifferent smile. Some part of her wishes you'd stop her, tell her that you could be better than her long time boyfriend, but you don't. Instead you wish her luck, a knowing look in your eyes as you give her shoulder a lingering squeeze and she feels herself crack a little more. She'd see you at the wedding, but not in the way some part of her heart deep down wanted it to be.

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹

[lily-fics-11]

Good Luck, Babe! Part 1 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

Good Luck, Babe!

Part 1 (Part 2 here)

(Inspired by Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan)

@dynsdiary made a post about Ellie x closet!reader Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan and I couldn’t go to sleep without writing it, so this is not super well edited

Word count: 1.2k 

CW: Angst, profanities, allusions to sex, internalized homophobia, drinking, not well edited

After spending another night with Ellie you slip out of her bed while she’s still asleep, around sunrise, like you always do.

The feelings you have for Ellie Williams are undeniably strong, but you won’t let yourself take things further than your sexually explicit kind of love affair. You are straight. “I just needed a little lovin’,” you reassure yourself every time she has you moaning her name.

The feelings you have for Ellie Williams are confusing. Undeniably strong, but you won’t let yourself take things further than your sexually explicit kind of love affair. You are straight. “I just needed a little lovin’,” you reassure yourself every time she has you moaning her name.

*****

Waiting for your drink at the bar, a mere 12 hours later, you feel an arm slip around your waist. Your head snaps around to see Ellie’s mischievous grin emerald eyes. You push her away from you and hiss “not here Ellie, not in front of these people, not in front of anyone.”

Ellie looks heartbroken, running her hand through her auburn hair and averting her eyes. “You know I cry when you leave without saying goodbye. It’s not fair.” She whispers in distress. That rips your heart in two. A vulnerable Ellie is an extremely rare occurrence. Ellie deserves so much better than this but you are too selfish to let her go. “Can we please talk about this?” She begs.

“Fine, but not right now.” You promise her and she looks relieved. You instruct her to find you before she leaves and she bites back a smile before disappearing into the crowd. Thoughts of Ellie consume you for the rest of the night. The loud music isn’t enough to drown it out so you come up with a different plan. 

You find the most eligible bachelor in the bar and bet him a kiss if he can beat you at darts, knowing you wouldn’t win. You are more than happy to oblige when one of his objectively attractive friends wants to make the same deal. 

Approaching the poker table without any cash, you put in 5 kisses to the winner as your buy in instead of the $5 they were asking for. 

About three drinks in, you tell one of your close guy friends that you would finally give him the chance he has always wanted with you. If he could take the most shots in 30 seconds. You know he could out drink you on your best day, and he celebrates his victory with a passionate make out session against the wall in a dark corner. When you finally pull away from him you stumble out of the bar and sit on the curb, you need a little air.

Ellie is the only thing on your mind, she has anchored herself there and held on through every forced kiss. Sitting in the curb, at first you think you are imagining her beautifully familiar laugh. When you look up and see that she is actually there, she rolls her eyes. “You are so cliche.” 

“Who cares?” You reply nonchalantly with a smirk and you can see a darkness grown in her eyes as she is overcome by anger. 

“What the hell were you doing in there?” She snaps.

You bat your eyes at her the way you always do, hoping it will calm her down. “I’m just having a good time.”

Your flirty disposition does nothing to soften her anger. “Right in front of my face? With this…this thing between us?”

“Ellie I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again, there is nothing between us. We are not together. We are nothing,” you remind her.

“You know what, it’s fine.” She spats. “It’s cool. I may be a fool but I know that you know the truth. Make a new excuse, another stupid reason. I know how I feel about you, and I can’t do this anymore.” Ellie turns to walk away and you grab her hand. “I don’t want to call it off!”

“But you don’t want to call it love!” She yells at you.

“Ellie please keep it down, we aren't the only ones out here.”

She obviously doesn’t care. “You can tell me you want that, why can’t you tell me what you really want?!”

You squint your eyes, growing irritable and raising your voice. “I’ve told you what I want, so please, tell me what you think I want.”

“You only wanna be the one that I call “baby”.” Ellie tells you as she kicks a rock. 

You stand up. “So what if I like being called “baby” by you? So what if I have feelings I don’t want to admit? That doesn’t mean I’m going to throw my life away. This is just the way I am. I will do whatever it takes to fight the feeling.”

Ellie gets right up in your face. “You can say that’s just the way you are, but do you really think this is a battle you can win? You came onto me. I see the way that you look at me. I’ve heard the sounds you make when I touch you and I’ve listened to you beg for more. Go ahead, you can kiss a hundred boys in bars. I’ve seen the way you cringe away from them.”

“I just get nervous.” You roll your eyes and take a step back. “Nothing a few drinks can’t fix.”

“You’ve had plenty to drink. But feel free to shoot another shot to try to stop the feeling. Eventually you’ll drink yourself to death and that’s the only way you are going to escape.” Ellie has never been so harsh with you and her words hit you like a freight train. 

“I would stop the whole world if it meant I could stop this feeling!” You cry out, on the verge of tears.

“That’s not how it works, babe. I can see it all now. You, in the years, with some sad excuse for a husband and a couple of bratty kids. You’ll wake up next to him in the middle of the night and look over at him in disgust. Put your head in your hands and cry because you are nothing more than his wife. You are going to think about me, all of those years ago, and want to sneak out on him while he sleeps, like you always did to me. Oh how the tables will have turned. But you won’t leave. You are too proud to come face to face with I told you so. You know that I would hate to say it, but all I would be able to say is ‘I told you so’.”

The tears start to fall, you can’t hold them back any longer. “Fine Ellie. I’ll admit it. I don’t want to be stuck with some man for the rest of my life.”

She crosses her arms. “I think I’m going to call this off.”

You try to plead with her. “Please don’t do this to me Ellie. I just wanna love someone who calls me ‘baby’. You call me baby. Would you still leave if I called this love?”

“Even if you call it love.”

You literally get down on your knees to beg. “Please Ellie!” You sob pathetically.

She backs away from you, and her face is saying that this hurts her more than it’s hurting you. “Good luck, babe.”

Update: Someone mentioned wanting a happy ending and I had so much fun writing this, so I will be writing a part 2! If you are here for the angst you can end here but a happy ending will be coming soon in part 2!

[mumms-the-word]

guys

GUYS

you’ll never believe what nonsense I came across while I was brainrot doomscrolling through all the books and notes on the BG3 wiki trying to find stuff I might have missed in act 2

druid self-insert romantic fanfiction about the first battle against Moonrise and Ketheric

fanfic that Halsin read and criticized!!

Okay if you played early access you shouldn’t be surprised because these books existed in EA. I’ve tried to find them in my game post patch 6 but all I can find is volume 3, which is disappointing because I was hoping to find volume 4

But as a treat, if you’re like me and completely didn’t know about this, buckle up and please enjoy the self-insert adventures of a certain “Roa” who totally isn’t Roan Featherway, a druid of Silvanus and colleague(??) of Halsin himself

———

Book Draft - Volume I

The name on the inside of this faded journal suggests it belonged to a 'Roan Featherway', a druid of Silvanus.

[Neatly written chapters fill this journal. A list of what appears to be book publishers in Baldur's Gate are on the first page. The cover has a multitude of titles, all crossed out: 'The Unforeseen Alliance, volume 1', 'Druids and Harpers, a fight for good!', 'The Shadowed Evil: who dares to stand against it?'] Our hero, the [brave? mighty?] druid Roa arrives in the grove. When he received the summons from the Emerald Enclave, he knew something was afoot. Filled with druids and rangers alike, members of the Enclave are scattered across the realm. They fight to preserve the natural order, keep the elemental forces of the world in check, and do battle with those who would upset this delicate balance. They are fierce warriors, though none as fierce as Roa. Built like [an ox? A bear?], he stands head and shoulders above the crowd. The grove is buzzing with activity. Roa spots a beautiful woman with ebony hair flowing past her shoulders, her eyes as blue as a [summer's day? bluebird?]. His smile turns to a frown as he notices the crescent moon and harp pinned to her chest. By Silvanus, what was a Harper doing here?

———

Book Draft - Volume II

Formed from several journals, paper scraps and, in one case, the back of an envelope, this book has been carefully glued together to form the second in a series of romance novels.

[This seems to be the second volume in a series written by an amateur novelist. The title on the cover, 'Love in Shadowed Lands', is crossed out.] The ebony-haired woman notices Roa's gaze and crosses the grove, [winking? smiling?] as she stands by the druid's side. 'I don't usually wear it out in the open,' she says, tapping the brooch on her cloak, a crescent moon and harp pinned to her chest. 'Except for special occasions.' 'What's a Harper doing in a grove of Silvanus?' Roa asks. 'Not just one.' She gestures to a group by the sacred pool. 'We're generally more cloak and dagger,' she continues, 'thwarting tyrants and [guarding? protecting?] the realm is best done in secret. But you lot have a fight on your hands. We're here to help.' 'Since when do the Emerald Enclave need a bunch of Harpers?' Roa says. 'You haven't heard?' She laughs, her laugh tinkling like a bell. 'Strap in, sweetie. We're about to take on Dark Justiciars, their demented leader Ketheric Thorm and, if we're very lucky, Shar herself.'

———

Book Draft - Volume III

The third book in a series of romance novels, this once beautifully bound book has had pages ripped out, glued back in and even tied to the book's spine using a piece of twine.

['Volume Three' is written in bold on the front. The title 'The Cost of Sorrow' is followed by a number of question marks.] 'But why?' Roa screams, the beast within barely contained. 'Why follow Shar? Why destroy Moonhaven?' Ketheric stares down [haughtily? cruelly?] at Roa as he steps over the bodies of Harpers and druids alike. 'Shar knows all.' He smiles [maliciously?]. 'She gave me a holy mission. I'm merely fulfilling it.' 'The people of Moonhaven trusted you!' Roa cries, his anger rising. 'How could you turn your Dark Justiciars on them?' Ketheric smiles, 'They needed the target practice. Can't have Shar's elite getting rusty, now can we? As for you...' a crescent blade appears in his [cruel?] hands. 'You are but one lone druid, Roa. Who are you to stand against me?' Roa forces himself to his feet, Silvanus' fury coursing through him. 'I'm your downfall. Today you die, Ketheric!'

———

And for the pièce de résistance 😮‍💨🤌

Book Draft - Volume IV

The fourth volume and final novel, this book has had almost every single page ripped out, except for the last twenty or so pages.

['Shadow's Kiss' is written in bold on the front. Pages of crossed out lines have notes in the margin reading 'finale!', 'more exciting!'. The final entry reads:] 'Get out of here.' Roa whispers, clutching his side. Blood pours from his fingers, a final gift from Ketheric's blade. 'I'm not leaving you,' Selene sobs, blue eyes filling with tears. Roa cups her face. 'I won't make it out in time. But you can.' Selene presses her forehead against his. Her ebony hair falls forward, forming a curtain that envelops them both. Roa closes his eyes, a smile lifting his lips as her scent, wild roses, washes over him. 'That grappling hook. You still have it?' He asks. 'Of course. Why do you -' With the last of his strength, Roa pushes her from the balcony. He watches her fall, watches her pull the hook from her pack and expertly throw it, swinging gracefully to the ground. A mighty crack splits the floor beneath him as the tower crumbles. He smiles contentedly. Selene was safe. That's all that mattered. Epilogue: 'Selfish bastard.' Selene says, kicking the base of the grave. Balsin places a comforting hand on her shoulder. 'He was the greatest of us all,' Balsin says, a towering behemoth of a druid, although not as tall as Roa. 'We will forever honour him, for he single-handedly broke Shar's hold on the land, and helped -' [A different hand appears beneath the final entry.] Roan, you had one job. This is not a historical record of what occurred, it is poorly written romance with no basis in fact. And if I ever see the name 'Balsin' again, I will personally feed you to Ormn.

Halsin you’re such a critic

we were robbed

[letterstomichelangelo]

just imagine, end of season 5, its the end of episode 8 and the party have defeated vecna, byler confessed, theyre happy.

we see the party heading off to college, new beginnings and all that. mikes helping will pack up his stuff into a pickup truck, he says something like "well, looks like we're all done, everything's strapped up!", will walks over to him from where he was saying his goodbyes to joyce, jonathan, hopper and el (shes going to a local college with max in this idk) and just with every bit of softness in the world says "thanks for helping me pack, mike, are you sure you don't mind bringing all this to chicago for me?" and mike's eyebrows just shoot up because he literally went to hell for this man, and in the most sassy tone you can imagine "uh, yeah, we're gonna need some type of furniture for our new place and the government hush fund didn't stretch that far" will lets out a little chuckle, "damn, its the least they could do after the last 7 years" "i know right", mike squawked out, "anyways we better start heading if we want to make it there before dinner, see you soon mrs. byers!" muffled tears of happiness can be heard from her, and her voice wobbles slightly when she shouts back "call me when you get there and send pictures of the apartment! i love you boys", even a sniffle can be heard from hopper when he shouts out some reminders for driving the long distance. as the boys get into the truck, will shouts "we'll be back for thanksgiving, you'll hardly know we're gone" and as mike pulls away from the newly renovated byers-hopper house, there's this perfect shot of a normal loving family wishing their son(s) off to college and in this moment everything is forgotten, no more upside down or vecna or demodogs, no more possessions or otherworldly connections, just two boys holding hands over the console of the car as they set off to a new city, knowing that no matter what happens they'll always have eachother.

me and michael, solid as they come

me and michael, its not a question now

[underground-secret]

Fan fic writers for Jemily this is for you. This is a formal request, please someone make a angsty fanfic based on the song Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan because I mean come on. also you would have to tag me in it so like….

Deal or no Deal?

[hoziersmicrophone]

coffee | ross macdonald

A/N: this is my first fic!! & it was inspired by the song “coffee” by Chappell roan, I highly recommend listening to it:)

WARNINGS: angst, suggestions of smut, not a happy ending‼️

pls enjoy <3

Can't meet you for dinner at the Italian place

It's where I met your family, some words were exchanged

I'd suggest the jazz bar on MaryAnn Street but

You'd buy me a drink and we know where that leads, so

“I don’t think I’ll be able to make dinner tonight, something’s come up. I’m really sorry. Do you want to do something maybe during the day tomorrow before you leave for Toronto?”

As soon as she sent the text message, she began to get anxious and rubbed her fingers against each other. She was aware that Ross would be fine with switching things up, as he usually is, but she regrets calling off their long-planned dinner. In less than 48 hours, he was heading out for the Canadian portion of the tour.

She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and saw that he was calling. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, before swiping to answer the call and bringing the phone to her ear.

“Ross, hi,”

“Is everything okay, love? What’s come up? Is something wrong?” his concerned voice echoed on the other end of the line, she knew he was alone in his hotel room.

She smiled softly at his sincerity, “Nothing’s wrong, and I’m okay, I promise. It’s just been a long day and I don’t really feel up for dinner. I’m tired,”

“Ah,” he sighed, “Okay, well, if you want, I can come over to your place for a bit? We can just relax, maybe watch a movie? I know you’ve been wanting to watch Challengers for a while- we could rent it yeah?”

He sounded calm and collected, but on the other end of the phone call, Ross had begun to wonder if she didn’t want to see him at all, and that this was just her way of attempting to let him down easy.

“That sounds great, actually. I’ll see you in an hour or so?”

He repressed a sigh of relief and smiled, “Sounds good, I’ll see you then.”

With a sigh, she ended the call and collapsed onto her couch. He was heading out with the guys shortly; they would be gone for six months, only doing two shows in Scotland during that time. She didn't want to upset him, but she also didn't want to drop everything she was doing to go on tour with her boyfriend.

They hadn't discussed the tour much, and she didn't want to be the first to bring it up. In fact, Ross hadn't even asked her if she wanted to go. She loved him, and even though she didn't want to end things, she wasn't able to see their future together as clearly as she once could.

I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you want me, I know that's a lie

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

An hour later Ross was at her apartment. He knocked twice on the door, and she opened it, wearing sweatpants, smiling at the man in front of her.

He offered a small hug, which she reciprocated as he walked through the door, “I brought wine,” he handed her a bottle of Merlot.

“Oh thank you,” she paused and put the bottle on the counter, “That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Shall I get the glasses?” he asked as he headed towards the kitchen, “I can make some popcorn too,”

“Sure Ross,” she smiled softly, “That would be amazing, thank you,” and she sat down on the couch and turned on the TV, finding the movie.

A few minutes later, Ross came back and set the bowl of popcorn on the coffee table while offering her a glass. She gave him a thank-you smile, and as the movie began, he put an arm around her and pulled her in close.

“I’m gonna miss this,” he whispered into the top of her head, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead.

She nodded, blinking away the stray tears that had formed in her eyes at his words. He evidently had no plans of asking her to join him on tour, he just expected her to sit around and wait for his return.

She exhaled shakily and took a sip of her wine, “Me too,”

They sat in silence and comfort as they watched the film, with a few quips being made at the sex scenes and the intensity of them. The movie ended and Ross stood up, “Do you want another glass to finish off the bottle?”

With a nod, she got to her feet and asked, "Why don't I get them this time?" and she proceeded to the kitchen with their glasses. As she reached for the bottle, removed the cork, and started to pour, she heard his footsteps behind her but chose not to acknowledge him.

Ross’s arms wrapped around her and he pulled her close, hugging her from behind.

“Ross,” she exhaled as she took a sip of her wine.

“Hm?” he murmured as he kissed the part of her shoulder that was exposed from her sweater.

“We need to talk about something,” she pulled out of his arms and turned around to face him, worry evidently etched on her features.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re going away for six months,” she sighed, “And you- you didn’t even ask me how I felt about it or if I wanted to come with you.”

“Love,” he frowned, “I know how you feel about it, but it's my job! Besides, I didn’t think you’d want to come with us, I know you have a life here and-”

“I still would have liked to have been asked,” she said, her voice almost a whisper as she avoided his gaze.

“Well, do you want to come on tour with me?”

“Now you’re just asking out of pity, Ross.”

“What else do you want from me?!” he exhaled sharply. The wine on his breath was potent.

She met his gaze, “Don’t snap at me like that. I was just voicing how I was feeling, there is no reason for you to be defensive.”

His jaw locked and he repressed the urge to roll his eyes, “I’m sorry, I just don’t know what else to say here,”

“You don’t have to say or ask me anything, I just wanted to feel heard.”

“Well, do you?”

“I don’t know. It feels a bit like you’re having this conversation out of obligation.” she looked away again as her eyes welled up with tears once more, “I’m not going to sit around and wait for you like some kind of dog, Ross. Not for half a year.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I don’t feel wanted in this relationship anymore, and don’t really know if I want it for myself,”

“Well I want you!” Ross exclaimed. He ran his hand through his hair and grabbed her hand, “I love you.”

“I love you too, but-” she was cut off by his lips on hers.

“Let’s not talk anymore,” he whispered against her lips, taking her wine glass out of her hand and placing it on the counter, “At least not right now.”

Her eyes began to well up with tears once more, but she forced a smile on her face and gave him another, stronger kiss. She was determined to make the most out of their final night together if it was to be their last. With a drunken gait, they staggered through the house until they arrived at her bedroom. With their lips still attached, the door closed behind them.

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your place

You said let's do the park 'cause I love the park

That may be true but god forbid it gets dark

Here come the excuses that fuel the illusions

But I'd rather feel something than nothing at all, so

Ross and the rest of The 1975 crew were in town for their shows in Scotland, and it had been three months since she'd seen or really spoken to him. Even though she hadn't heard from any of them all day and wasn't really expecting it, the fact that their show was in two hours and she hadn't heard anything still stung.

Just as the thought of not hearing anything entered her mind once more, her phone began to vibrate on the table in front of her. She saw that it was George calling, and answered.

“George?”

“Hey doll, how’s it going?”

She rolled her eyes at the nickname, “I’ve been better…how’s tour going? You guys are in town tonight, right? Glasgow?”

“Been keeping tabs on us?”

“Oh shut up, Daniel,”

He laughed, “Are you coming out tonight?”

“Couldn’t snag tickets.” That was only partially the truth. She did want to go, but didn’t want to see Ross. That, and the fight for tickets was a fucking bloodbath.

“If you come to the backdoors one of us will let you in sweetheart,”

“Really desperate to get me there tonight aren’t you George?”

“Would it be wrong of me to say that we miss you?”

“We?” She asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

“Yeah! Me, Matty, Hahn, Charli, Polly, hell even Jamie misses you!”

Her heart felt heavy at the lack of Ross’s name coming out of George’s mouth, but she brushed it off with a light laugh, “I’ll see you in a bit, but I want a backstage pass.”

“Sure thing doll,” and he hung up the phone.

An hour later, she found herself at the backdoors of the venue the boys were performing at. She had just texted George that she was here and had put her phone in her pocket when the doors swung open and she was pulled into and off the ground by the blonde balding man himself in a bone crushing hug.

“Jesus Christ, Daniel!” she exclaimed as she laughed, being put back down on the ground.

“I told you I missed you, sweetheart,”

“If you don’t lose that nickname soon, the next thing you lose will be your dick,” she warned but grinned, “I missed you too.”

“Let’s go say hi to everyone,” George grabbed her hand and dragged her into the dimly lit backstage, letting the doors slam shut behind them.

She had a blast reuniniting with almost the entire band, and was almost brought to the ground by Matty who would not release her from his hug.

“Shit, are you okay Healy?” She asked between laughing fits.

“He misses you and feels like shit,” Matty spoke in a hushed tone in her ear.

“I’m sure he does, and to be fair, he should feel shitty,” she responded, “I’m not here for him,” she spoke a bit louder as she pulled away from Matty’s hug.

“Who’s not here for who?” asked a voice, cutting around George and stepping into the light where she could see him and he could see her.

She straightened her back and turned around, “Hi,” she said, smiling at the tall man who looked shocked to see her.

“You aren’t here for me?” Ross’s eyes softened as he took in her features.

“Jesus, Ross. Whether or not you choose to believe it, my life does not revolve around you,” she brushed the hostile comment off with a small laugh and turned back to Matty, “You guys go on soon, can I just watch from the wings?”

“Yeah, of course,” he responded with a small glance at Ross, who’s expression remained indifferent.

“Alright lads, let’s get a move on with this show then,” George said, clapping Ross on the back, bringing him back to reality, “And let’s get our dear guest a bottle of wine to drink while she enjoys our performance,” he said to a stagehand, shooting her a wink.

She stood on stage left, which was the audiences’ stage right and watched the show from the wings. It also happened to be the side of the stage Ross played on for the majority of the show. The two kept making eye contact throughout the numbers, but he kept looking away the second her eyes met his. She had consumed over half of the bottle of wine, and was enjoying the buzz as her ears burned with the songs they were performing.

It wasn’t until the second verse of ‘Sex’ when she got distracted watching him play. The way his hair framed his face and he focused so intently on the bass line of the song. The way he almost vibrated with the way the stage shook and how he ignored the screams of the crowd, evidently in love with him. The way his fingers moved; god, she loved his fingers. She was slightly drunk at this moment, but didn’t care. She was happy for the first time in months and never wanted the feeling to go away.

As she was evidently distracted by his performance, she didn’t notice him catching her staring and the slight smirk that creeped its way onto his face.

The song came to an end and he placed his bass on the stand as the rest of the band exited the stage, leaving Polly alone to sing ‘Jesus Christ 2005 God Bless America.’

Ross walked directly towards her and watched as her mouth formed a soft smile with a hint of a twinkle in her eye. “What?” he asked, a puzzled but playful expression on his face.

She grabbed him by the front of the red crewneck he was wearing and pulled him down to face her, and kissed him with just as much intensity as she had done the last time they had seen each other, three months ago. He responded into the kiss for a few seconds then pulled back, grabbing her hand,

“Where is this coming from?”

“Just shut up and kiss me, MacDonald”

He looked like he wanted to ask another question, but decided to ask it later as he kissed her again, pulling her backwards into the dark of the poorly lit backstage. She laughed against his lips as he walked into a mic stand, covering her mouth with her hand to hide a grin.

“Are you okay?” she asked, trying to stifle another laugh.

“Now who needs to shut up?” He retorted before kissing her again.

I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine

You'll say that you're sorry, I know that's a lie

If I didn't trust you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

Another three months had passed since the band’s Glasgow shows, and it had been another three months since she had seen Ross. Yes, they saw each other at the show and for the 48 hours the band was in Glasgow, but after that, they took off again, and she was left to her studio apartment and her thoughts.

She was sitting in her pajamas on her couch and was watching a live stream of the band’s last show. They all had high spirits, but she could tell that they were all a little defeated about it being the last one; both fatigue and sadness.

Her iPad screen went black as the stream ended and her heart swelled with pride for the band. They had all worked so hard the past six months and it most definitely paid off. A break was well deserved.

She was woken up by her phone vibrating beside her. According to her clock it was 3AM. Grabbing it, she rubbed her eyes as the screen illuminated the room.

RM: Hey, I get back to Glasgow tomorrow around 1. Do you wanna grab a coffee and chat?

She stared at the text as another came through.

RM: FUCK. I forgot about the time difference. I’m so sorry. Get back to me when you wake up x.

“Don’t worry about it, I’m awake. And I can do coffee, same spot as always?”

RM: Did I wake you?????

“No, you didn’t lol”

RM: Don’t lie to me, it’s 3AM. You’re never up that late.”

“Fine, you did wake me up, but again, don’t worry about it. I’ll see you tomorrow ”

RM: See you then x

She smiled and put her phone back down, before rolling back over and falling asleep, only waking up when her 11AM weekend alarm went off.

If I didn't trust you, it would be fine

I'll meet you for coffee, only for coffee

She walked into the coffee shop, the one they always used to go to, and saw that he was already sitting at a table with two cups in front of him.

Ross stood up when he saw her, and gave her a small hug before she sat down adjacent to him, “I got you a mocha,”

“You remember my order?”

“Of course I do, it’s disgustingly sweet,”

“I’m going to ignore that. How was the rest of the tour?”

They talked about the band, the shows that were better than others, and what they all got up to for the months on the road. Ross mentioned that Polly had started talking to one of the security guards at their show in Toronto and that the two now text almost everyday, and that Polly was planning to spend part of their hiatus in Canada.

“And how were your adventures on the road? Did you get up to anything interesting?” She teased, with a mild smile on her face.

“Not much, really,” he responded.

“Come on MacDonald, you have to give me more than that.”

“Fine,” he sighed, “I was pretty lonely if I’m being honest.”

She inhaled sharply, preparing for the conversation that was about to occur, “It was you who chose to be lonely, you did that to yourself, Ross,”

“I suppose I did,” he responded, absent-mindedly picking at his fingers, “I did miss you, you know,”

“Is that why I didn’t hear from you at all for the first three months and then hardly after the two days you were in town?” Her eyes reflected the sadness that was mirrored in his.

“I didn’t think you’d want me to reach out,”

“But I tried reaching out to you, and was met with radio silence! You can say you missed me all you want, Ross, but those are those words. You did not put in the effort to keep in touch with me and just that alone shows me more than you will ever be able to say,”

She stared at him with a fixed gaze. He stared back, each word she said had felt like a stab in his chest. He knew she was right, in a sense, but could not find the words to fix the animosity that had fallen in between them.

Their coffees had begun to get cold, and she was the first to avert her gaze from his as her phone vibrated on the table. Turning it over so the screen didn’t light up, she looked back up at him. Her eyes slightly softened,

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your-

“Did you expect me to just be okay with you coming back into my life?”

“No, I-” he started,

“That I would just put my life on pause for you at any given moment? What happened three months ago in Glasgow was a lapse in judgement on my part, and yes, it was fun, but it was not what I had intended when George invited me to the show.”

“It’s not what I intended either, I don’t know what-”

She cut him off again, “Oh fuck off with that bullshit. You’re telling me you didn’t intend for my legs to open for you when you showed up at my door with two bottles of wine and flowers?” Her voice had lowered to a whisper, not wanting to alert any of the other customers to their conversation.

She paused, her eyes glistening with tears, “You are the only person who knows me inside and out, Ross, and I know you too. So you cannot tell me you showed up that night after the second show with my favourite wine to only watch whatever program was on that night. I’m not that stupid.”

“I have never ever thought that you were stupid” Ross’s eyes stared into hers, and he clenched his fists together, “And it pains me that you would think that I only see you as a way to get a quick fuck and then leave.”

“How else am I supposed to see myself in your eyes when you only reach out to me when it is convenient for you. I am not at your beck and call Ross, and I am certainly not something you can dispose of once you’ve used,”

“I need you to stop talking so negatively about yourself, please. You have to believe me when I say that none of this was ever my intention, and I never want to hurt you. I love you.” Ross’s eyes were now starting to well up with tears, but he blinked them away when he saw that hers were beginning to stain her cheeks.

“I love you too, Ross. But I think that’s why it's so hard for me. You are all consuming, and it’s ruining my life,” she grabbed his hand and squeezed it gently, “I think I need to let you go,”

“What do you mean? I’m back home for at least a few months now, we can make this work!” He was pleading, and his eyes showed nothing but desperation.

“I don’t know if I want to make it work, I don’t know if my heart can take it.”

“So what? We’re just going to go our separate ways now? Forever?” Ross felt his voice crack at the word as his eyes welled up once more.

“For now, yeah. I think we both just need a lot of space to think about this Ross, think about what we really want.”

She wiped away the tears that had fallen and took her hand out of his, standing up and grabbing her coat off the back of the chair. He followed suit, and the two walked out of the coffee shop so they were standing beside her car. She opened her mouth to say something else when she felt him wrap his arms around her, enveloping her in the tightest hug she had ever received.

She buried her head into his chest as the tears fell down her face once more, and felt him kiss the top of her head. The two embraced for what felt like eternity, when it was only a matter of minutes before he pulled away.

“I do love you, you know,” he said with a sad smile, “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what you needed.”

“I don’t want you to blame yourself, it’s the lifestyle you signed up for, it’s just not what I can cope with anymore. You really are one of the best men I have ever met,” she responded, “And I love you too, Ross.”

She turned away from him as more tears started to fall, and she got into her car. The engine turned on and she drove out of the parking lot without giving him a last glance. This would always be a losing battle they would face, so they both needed to be strong and let the other go, because in doing so, they could find themselves.

The carousel never stops turning, so sometimes one of the best things you can do is get off.

We've done this before

And I don't need it anymore

So let's not do coffee, let's not even try

It's better we leave it and give it some time

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

'Cause If we do coffee, it's never just coffee

It's never just coffee

A/N: that marks the end of my first fanfic!! please reblog and let me know what you think! <3<3 also shoutout to @mads198-9 for being my beta reader, ily loser💕💕💕💕

[thhestia]

i finished writing my nevermore fanfic inspired by Good Luck, babe! by Chappell Roan

enjoy!

[lightacross]

every since listening to super graphic ultra modern girl by chappell roan I can’t stop thinking about sapphic wolfstar living in the city and going to clubs and doing each others makeup and dressing up cute and dancing in the club lights

[luveline]

as a kid i was so scared of my parents splitting up, what if roan learns someone in her class’ parents are divorcing and it sends her spiralling thinking she’d never see reader again?

thank you jade 💛

thank you for requesting lovely ♡ eddie and roan (almost) stepmom!reader, 2k

"Yeah, I got the expensive kind," you're saying, phone sandwiched between your ear and your shoulder, a knife held loosely in your hand. "I don't wanna make it wrong." 

Roan can vaguely hear the rumble of her Uncle's voice on the other side giving reassurances. 

You scrape the blade of the knife against the cutting board. "I know. I know, Wayne, I swear, just… I hardly ever make him dinner and this is our last anniversary before we get married, and– I know. Sorry, that's– I know, you don't mind, it's just–" 

Roan attaches herself to your hip like an octopus, looking up at you as you look down. You smile at her, putting your knife flat to stroke her hair. 

"She's right here," you say, "she's helping me… okay. Thanks, Wayne, you're the best. See you tomorrow. Alright, I will. Bye." 

You put your hand behind Roan's shoulder and walk her with you to the phone. As soon as you've hung it back on the hook, you scoop her up to hold against your chest, even if she's getting longer and longer every day. "Hey, babe. Uncle Wayne says he loves you and he missed you today. He wants to make you dinner tomorrow, so we'll find your nice blue dress tonight and put it in the wash." 

Roan flops her face against your neck. "I love him too." 

"He knows." You press your cheek to hers briefly. "Okay, you wanna sit on the top with me and I'll finish making today's dinner?" 

Roan's happy to sit on the counter and swing her legs as you finish making the pot pie. It's one of Eddie's favourites because his mom used to make it a couple of times a month, and so it's one of Roan's favourites, her lips quirked with excitement as you chop onions, carrots and celery into small pieces for the frying pan. 

"I love the carrots," she says. 

"Yeah?" You uncap the cooking oil to pour a generous splash into the pan. "Want me to put extra in? I don't mind." 

Roan nods enthusiastically. "Yes!" 

She's happy watching you cook at first, but she gets quieter as you finish up. By the time the pie is in the oven she's picking at her little nails, shards of polish in her lap like powdered sugar. 

"You okay?" you ask, wiping your hands clean. She shrugs. You shrug back. "What's that mean?" 

"I'm thinking." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." Roan pokes her toes into your thigh. 

"Well, daddy's home soon, but you know you can tell me." 

"Mm," she hums, holding out her hand. You don't take it, folding her into your arms for a hug instead. 

It would usually make her feel better, but Roan feels ten times worse as you soften your tone to a less cheerful murmur, "Got another tummy ache?" 

"Not that." 

"What is it?" you ask. 

She hides her face in your shoulder, pert nose to your soft shirt. 

"You don't have to tell me," you whisper. "Sorry. I'm not trying to pressure you, I promise, I just love you." You turn saccharine again, patting her back as you dote excitedly into the top of her head. "Love you love you love you!" You punctuate with a kiss, and Roan starts crying. 

—

Eddie's startled but not too worried to get home to the sound of Roan crying. She certainly cries less and less now that she's getting older, but children cry so often that he doesn't think it's worth panicking over. 

He can hear you already on the case as he peels out of his sweaty coat and boots. "That's not going to happen," you comfort, voice bouncing off of kitchen tile, the hum of the oven like a baseboard. "It's hard to believe me, but it won't. Me and daddy are super happy." 

His eyebrows rise of their own accord. "Hello?" he asks, moving down the hallway and into your bright kitchen. 

Roan sits in the shadow of a corner cabinet, hunched over her knees with her face held up by defeated hands, tears wetting her rosy cheeks. You stand in front of her with your hand on shoulder, bent to her eye-level, glancing sideways at him momentarily before you say, "Look, dad's home. He's gonna say the exact same thing as me, I swear. Should we ask him?" 

Eddie takes the mantle by your side, quick to rub the tears from Roan's cheek with his pinky. His hands aren't clean enough for anything more. "What's wrong?" he asks. 

"Nothing," Roan says, her voice strangled by a big sob. 

"Babe!" Eddie laughs, half-hearted. "I can see something's super wrong. I might be a dumb boy, but I know when my girl's upset, don't I?" 

"You're not a dumb boy," Roan says. 

"Oh. Thank you, Ro." 

"You're a dumb man." 

"Very funny." He combs unruly coils of dark hair behind her ear, finger following down the curve to her shoulder. "Quick, tell me what's wrong. Just tell me. Rip it off like a bandaid." 

"It's silly," Roan murmurs. 

"Says who?" 

"Says me." 

"Oh," Eddie says, giving you a look to make sure it's alright before he monopolises her attention. You raise your hands with a small smile, as if to say, Please. "Come here, me. I'm gonna have to squeeze this out of you, huh?"

He leans back, shifting her weight against his hip, arm stretched over the breadth of her back. He's not smug, but it does bring a satisfaction to see how swiftly she calms down once he's holding her. It's a familiar picture, Eddie with his lips to her forehead, a crease between his brow just like Uncle Wayne's as he rubs her back, and Roan, a mirror image of her father, palpable relief in her hands as they tangle in his hair. Less familiar but getting there is you at their side, your cheek on Eddie's shoulder and your hand on his elbow.

"What's it gonna take to let me in on the secret?" he asks. He's making a spoiled child accidentally, always bribing and bartering for good behaviour. 

"Nothing…" Her mumbling tickles his cheek as she shifts around. "I'm worry‐ing," —her voice skips over the word, like a hiccup— "about something because of Stacy." 

"Oh yeah? What did Stacy do?" 

"She said her mom, um, her mom said she's getting a divorce. That Stacy won't see her dad again, and it'll just be her and her mom." 

Eddie doesn't judge people much. He can't imagine caring about other people's divorces when Roan was born from a fling and pretty much left on his doorstep —circumstances don't determine your kid's happiness alone. He does worry for Stacy, and his poor empathetic little girl. 

"That's terrible, bubby," Eddie placates, patting her back. 

"It's– well, it's– I'm…" Roan huffs. 

"Whatever you tell me is fine, promise. No grounding, no telling off."

"I know, daddy, it's just hard to say." 

Eddie feels himself physically melt. 

He leans back against the kitchen counter and shifts her against his stomach. His arms burn with the effort of keeping her secured to him, and he's not loving her sad tone —the quicker he finds out what's wrong, the better. He peeks over her head at you for hints. 

You're uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other like your feet hurt. 

"What?" he asks you. 

You clear your throat. "I think she's worried about me. If something happened between us, she's worried she won't see me again." 

Eddie would like to think after two years of loving his daughter, watching her grow, and all together being a cherished and irreplaceable part of her life and her support system, that you'd find it impossible to leave her. Even if you left Eddie, you wouldn't leave Ro. He knows that. But only two years… he knows you'd love Roan even if he screws things up, but he can't promise her that things would be the same, because they wouldn't be. 

That's not what she's asking, though.

"What, you think you won't see Y/N anymore?' Eddie murmurs, rubbing her back. 

"She's not my full mom," Roan whispers. 

Eddie reaches past Roan to squeeze your elbow. "You know, that doesn't matter, honey. And after the wedding–" 

"You call me mom for a reason, right?" you cut him off. 

Roan lifts her head from Eddie's. "Yeah." 

"Okay, so, say me and dad get married, and then by some impossibility we realise we can't stay married, will you love me less?" 

"No," Roan says with a pout. 

"I wouldn't love you any less, either. I didn't know I could love someone this much 'til I met you," you say, voice scratchy like you're talking past gravel. "So things would change, but not how much I love you. I'd still see you." 

You sound tentative. Eddie's way less hesitant. "Of course you'd still see each other. Babe, if me and mom break up it'll be because I did something stupid, so you'd see her every time I tried to apologise." He grins at you. "How long do you think it would take you to forgive me?" 

"Depends on what you did." You smile fondly. "Probably not long, Munson." 

"I have a weird feeling we're gonna last." 

Roan sniffles. "I just don't want mom to move away," she says. 

You and Eddie have already spoken about this. Serious but not sombre, on your backs in bed. You're not just marrying me, Eddie'd said, terrified of how much he wanted you to say certain things, and how you might not say them at all. This isn't just a promise to me. I know how much I'm asking from you, it's not a small thing. I won't blame you if you can't say yes, but this is… she's my world. 

I already said yes. And I knew what I was saying yes to, you'd replied, holding your hand up above you, the two of you staring in wonder at the ring on your marriage finger. I promise, Eds. I won't let either of you down. 

"Where do you think I'm going, princess? Me and dad are so happy. I'm staying right here stuck to his hip for the rest of time, but only if you're gonna stick to mine." You duck your head to touch your noses together briefly. "I'm not going anywhere." 

"Promise?" 

"Promise you." He swears you're twisting your engagement ring, but he can't quite see. "Can I have her?" you ask. 

"Sure. My noodle arms are about to snap anyway." 

"Noodle arms," you repeat, stealing Ro from him smoothly. "Yeah, right." 

He flexes appreciatively at your comment. 

Roan snuggles up to your neck, little face in the curve of it, her arms curling around you. You hold her tight and bend back under her weight, an arm against her thighs and another behind the small of her back, hand twisted up to brush her curls. 

"Love you," you say softly. You're smiling like you've got everything you ever wanted. "Maybe if me and daddy break up I can just take you with me." 

"Yeah!" Roan says with a gasp. 

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Whatever, girls. Neither of you can cook, you know that? Maybe tonight you guys can practise your new life together by not eating the dinner I'm gonna cook." Time to lighten the mood, lest Roan spend a special night lethargic. 

You beam at him. "I already made dinner. Happy anniversary, handsome." 

You exchanged gifts and kisses already that morning before work, but Eddie's happy to accept another quick kiss over Ro's shoulder. He dots one on his daughter's cheek to keep things fair. 

"Lucky us, huh?" he says to Ro. 

He's not strictly talking about dinner, and it's cheesy, but you light up like a Christmas tree. "Lucky me." 

[dnphan]

does anyone know of a female farmer x haley angsty fanfic (maybe with a tiny bit of spice)?? pls i am so head over heels i love her

[lily-fics-11]

Good Luck, Babe! Part 2 (Ellie Williams, TLOU)

Good Luck, Babe! //Ellie Williams, TLOU//

Part 2 (Part 1 here)

(Inspired by Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan)

@dynsdiary made a post about Ellie x closet!reader Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan and I couldn’t go to sleep without writing it so this is not super well edited. Then @fictionalgap mentioned a happy ending to I had to write a part 2 lol

Word count: 2k

CW: Profanities, allusions to sex, internalized homophobia, drinking, minimal editing 

With tears blurring your vision you watch Ellie leave. Her hands are in her pockets and she is walking with her usual swagger, but almost stomping, and at a quick pace. She should have done this a long time ago, but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. It’s heartbreaking to see Ellie disappear into the night, but even more so knowing how hurt she is. You force yourself to watch her go, as a punishment for all that you’ve done. It’s the least you can do to try and repent for your sins. 

The other bar patrons standing around don’t pay much attention after the yelling stops, but you still wish you could get the hell out of town and never return. For both your sake, and Ellie’s. Not that running away is what you really want. Ideally, Ellie would take you back, her arms out like an angel, which is what she would be if she ever forgives you. But Ellie has never been one to forgive or forget. You want to be Ellie’s girl, for everyone to see, but you are too late. 

In trying not to blow up your life you’ve set fire to the one thing that actually made it worth living. Yes, you still have your friends and family, but Ellie falls into both of those categories. She knows you better than anyone, because no one has ever made you feel as comfortable as she does. Ellie makes you laugh harder than anyone else, wipes away your tears, and gives you everything she has. Though you give her the same, you've always done so behind closed doors. Ellie doesn’t always know what to say, but that has never stopped her from trying. Even if she has to resort to using puns as a distraction from whatever you are feeling. 

That argument sobered you up quite a bit. You would shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling, but Ellie was right, it’s only a temporary solution. 

Going home immediately would be ideal. However, Ellie’s house is on your way and she is already angry enough. Having to see you would probably just piss her off more. That girl has been through more than enough. Even if she had time to cool off, the sight of you would only be a bitter reminder of everything that’s gone down. Leaving in 10 minutes will give her more than enough time to get home before you even start walking and prevent any unnecessary interaction. 

You felt nothing when you kissed guys. The kisses you’ve shared with girls had sparks. But kissing Ellie ignited the brightest, most colorful, fireworks. 

Ellie is the only person you have ever loved, but you’ve had quite a few crushes on girls over the years, and even a few flings, despite having convinced yourself you just really wanted to be their friend or were just messing around. They were all special in their own way, but would never compare to Ellie.

As you sit and wait you decide it’s time to make a confession. You owe it to yourself, and to Ellie. 

“I’m gay,” you whisper out loud. Then you whisper it a few more times before you can finally say “I’m gay” at a regular volume. You would yell it at yourself if it weren’t for the other people hanging around, you’ll have to do it when you get home. What’s the point of exposing yourself when the only reason to is gone?

Thinking about the future Ellie had described forces you to ask yourself what do you really want in life when it comes to love? You’ve been pushing who you are down so hard that you haven’t ever been able to think about it before. You would never allow yourself to even dream, because it made you feel sick to your stomach. 

Finally allowing the thoughts to flood in, there is much less to unpack than anticipated. There really is only one thought. Ellie Williams. 

You could’ve had everything, but you were too immature, too insecure, to take what was being offered to you. The only way you could forgive yourself would be if Ellie did so first, which she is not known to do. Not that you even have a right to her forgiveness, after everything you put her through. So however many years you live, is how long you will be hating yourself. 

Sure, there are other girls out there, but none of them even quite like Ellie. You may be young, but she is without a doubt the love of your life. Or she was, now she is nothing more than the loss of your life. Ellie will move on one day, and you will have to watch from afar, grateful that she has found the happiness she deserves, though it will kill you to watch that happiness come from someone else. 

Ellie Williams is just about the only thing in your head and you know she won’t ever leave. 

After ten minutes you walk home, feet shuffling, shoulders hunched, head hung low. When you turn onto Ellie’s street you cross to the other side, avoiding close proximity. Your heart rate increases exponentially the further you walk. You smell weed, Ellie must be out smoking on the front porch. You look straight ahead and veer into the darkness, out of the illumination cast by the street lights. Silence had been your goal, but in order to stay in the darkness you had to step through a bush… and it rustles. “Fuck” you whisper to yourself. Without a doubt, Ellie’s hypervigilance hears the sound. 

“Who is that? Why are you skulking around in the dark?” Ellie’s voice calls across the street. You can tell she is suspicious and ready to start a fight. 

“I-it’s me.” You step back into the light. “I figured you wouldn’t want to see me.” You panic and take off at a run. “Wait!” Ellie calls and you stop dead in your tracks. That was the last thing you expected. It would have made more sense if she had cursed you out. Slowly, you look over your shoulder to see her standing up, holding onto the railing and leaning over it ever so slightly. 

“I want to talk to you,” she grumbles, crossing her arms, just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I’m sorry, I should’ve just crossed through someone's backyard or something. I’ll do that from now on.”

Ellie shakes her head and takes a hit, then slowly exhales a cloud of smoke. “That’s not it.”

You turn around to face her. “I know where and when you hang around town. I promise I'll stay away.”

“Just come over here,” she say and motions with her hand. You can hear bitterness in her voice, but not the anger you expected. 

You walk over and stand in front of Ellie as she sits down on the steps. She continues smoking as her knee starts to bounce. “I’ve decided to give you the chance to talk. But only one chance.”

You gulp, feeling the weight of the immense pressure. 

“I know you won’t forgive me, and that I don’t even deserve it, but I still have to tell you how fucking sorry I am. I’ve made you, the unbreakable Ellie Williams, cry, and that’s not fair. You deserve someone who loves you for the world to see, without caring what they think. Even though I’m ready now, I know I'm too late. I'm a fucking fool. I wanted to stop the world just to stop the feeling, so I had to stop you, because you are my world. I should have called it love so that you didn’t have to call it off.”

Ellie’s eyes are wide as she bites her lip. She pats the spot next to her for you to sit down. You sit as far away from her as you can and avoid looking directly at her, only able to see her in your peripheral vision. 

Legs spread casually, and elbows resting on her knees, Ellie starts her explanation of her uncharacteristic behavior. “Normally I would cut off anyone who hurt me this badly. But on the walk home, I remembered that you aren’t just anyone.” Her audible disdain is all but gone, replaced by a sense of yearning. 

You can finally take your first deep breath since before the argument. “Thank you for taking the time to talk to me, I know this can’t be easy for you. I really appreciate it.” 

She just nods as she takes a drag. “You’ve been thinking too, haven’t you, about everything I've said.”

She has managed to make you laugh a little, the way only she can, something you thought you would never experience again. “You know me so well, don’t you. But yes, and you were right. I could kiss a hundred boys in bars, I could even kiss a thousand girls in bars…” you trail off. 

“Well kissing girls is kind of the whole point, guess. All though I was thinking about just one girl in particular…” Ellie sounds so disappointed.

You finally look over at her and meet her mesmerizing gaze. “I could kiss every girl on the planet, but not a single kiss would matter unless it was with you. When I wake up in the middle of the night, and think about you all those years ago, I want it to be because I’m watching you sleep in our bed in our house. I’d listen to you breathe, and smile at the way your nose twitches when you are dreaming. I’d be grateful that I’ve gotten to spend my life with you.”

Ellie’s breath hitches and she searches your eyes like a human lie detector. “Did you really mean it, when you called it… love?”

“Yes. I love you. I really really love you. I’m so in love with you that I was afraid of it. But I also love you enough to stop making excuses and coming up with stupid reasons.” You look out into the darkness and yell, not caring who hears, "I'm gay and I’m in love with Ellie Williams!”

“I love you too baby.” No tone is left in her voice aside from an air of wonder when Ellie laughs and puts her toned arm around you, pulling you against her warm body. 

“You’re like an angel,” you whisper, lost in her beautiful eyes. 

“If I’m from heaven I can’t imagine what you think hell looks like.”

“It’s full of men,” you sigh. 

“Fair enough,” Ellie chuckles.

“So are we.. something?” You murmur. 

Ellie places a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I don’t know how you haven’t gotten it through your pretty head, but I’m absolutely in love with you. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be my girlfriend and show you off.”

You reach out and stroke her freckled cheek. “Then show me off. Let’s go back to the bar. Show every guy I kissed that I’m your girl. I want everyone in town to know that I’m the Ellie Williams' girlfriend. 

Ellie’s eyes light up and she bites back a smile. “If I’m the Ellie Williams than you are the most amazingly beautiful girl there ever was. It’s really the least you can do, let me emasculate every sorry bastard in town, they’ll be shitting themselves knowing the best girl we have is mine.”

You nod shyly. “Yeah. You deserve a girl that’s proud to be yours, and I am.”

Ellie kisses your temple before taking one last drag from her joint. The two of you walk together, her arm around your shoulders and yours around her waist. 

“I’ve always wanted to dance with you, can we dance together?” You ask shyly.

“Of course baby,” she tells you with a dreamy look in her eyes before giving you a quick kiss. 

The two of you are all giggles and smiles on the way back, though it doesn’t stop Ellie from teasing you and telling you owe her big time. 

As a happy couple, you two approach the bar and no one outside even takes a second glance at you, too occupied by their cigarettes and drunken conversations. You walk through the door, ahead of Ellie, holding her hand as you push through the crowd. Any man that would normally pay attention to you does, but the only person who you take notice of is your guy friend that you had promised a date to. Oops, you’ll have to deal with that at some point but now is a time to celebrate. 

You quickly look back at Ellie and smile after accidentally making eye contact with him. “I really want to punch that guy in the face.” She murmurs, glaring at him. Nonetheless, her rough exterior melts away when she looks back at you. Anyone who saw the way Ellie looks at you would think that you put every star in the night sky, just for her. 

Taking a spot in the middle of the dance floor, you put your arms around Ellie’s neck and she grabs you by the waist to pull you close. The music isn’t the right tempo, but you start slow dancing like you are the only ones in the room. You lean in to give her a real kiss. No cheek, or forehead, or peck on the lips. You want to show her just how much you love her. Ellie’s soft lips move in sync with yours and you aren’t even thinking about all of the people around you. When you finally pull away Ellie says “Baby, I can’t believe you’re really mine.”

“Well, I am. You’re stuck with me. Good luck, babe!”

[fangirlinc]

Songs I desperately need to see in fanfictions

Bodyguard by Beyonce

Too Sweet by Hozier

Casual by Chappell Roan

thats it rn

will update when it occurs to me or add on with ideas

[letterstomichelangelo]

just imagine its the end of season 5 episode 3, byler have had another veiled heart to heart about friendship and whatnot. we see mike walk into his room, a song starts up in the background, he kneels beside his bed and pulls out a dusty box. tentatively he takes it, sitting on his bed and after a few beats he opens it up and takes out its contents: a stack of paper. slowly the camera pans to the letters, all starting with "dear will," and ending with "love mike" but the contents are made up of scribbled words, sentences rewritten time and time over. as he shuffles through them, he starts crying faintly and through choked sobs, he whispers, "im sorry will, im so sorry"

you'll have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

it fades to black and the credits roll

[orchideous-nox]

Rosekiller "My Kink is Karma" Inspired One-Shot

I was supposed to write my "Casual" one-shot first but my brain had other ideas, so here's Barty and Evan being the most "My Kink is Karma" coded Marauders Era characters ever.

This won't be the last Chappell Roan inspired fic so expect more. I'll probably have one for each song of the album and then she'll release another considering she's already teasing another song.

[antleralicent]

just thought of a possible rhaenicent au fic idea- folks what do we think of a rhaenicent kinda casual (chappell roan) au.... and i think even more so to make it from a RHAENYRA perspective? idk i might be glitching i think i've just listened to casual a bit too much 😭😭😭😭