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likeadevils · 5 months

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Midnights Timeline

This is a very long post that puts all the songs on Midnights in order of Taylor creating them. I’ve also included a few other songs she worked on while writing Midnights and quotes from Taylor and her collaborators talking about her process.

If you don't want to read all that, check out this playlist of the album in order, or this playlist of her entire discography. (warning: there is a very large chunk in the middle of Midnights that I have no information on (Maroon-Dear Reader. On the playlist not the album I have guesses for more than one song)).

I’ve also added this color coded scale of how sure I am of the date:

Confirmed: There is some type of official source for the date

Inferring: Nobody has officially said “This is when we wrote it,” but all available evidence points to that date

Speculation: This date is based off pure vibes and guesswork and is highly likely to change.

Unknown: All that is known is the year (from the US Copyright Offices

Renegade: March 7-15, 2021 (Confirmed)

Aaron: “I wrote the music [for Renegade] at some point after we finished [evermore], and sent it to her, because she was inspired by a llot of the Big Red Machine stuff we were working on. And she had already sung on Birch, a song that hasn't come out yet but is one of the major ones on the record. And I think she wanted to write a song for Big Red Machine. She very much feels like part of this community to me. So I wrote Renegade, the music, and sent it to her. And not unlike a lot of the things we've done together, one day I woke up to a voice memo from her and she had written this incredible song about how anxiety and fear get in the way of loving or being loved. And she was clearly thinking about Big Red Machine. And then we recorded her vocals and everything the week of the Grammys, when I was there in LA, and it was really nice to have something to think about that wasn't related to the Grammys - just to make music because you feel like making it." (transcript from jaimie)

High Infidelity and Would've Could've Should've: March 7-15, 2021 (Confirmed)

Aaron: [Would've Could've Should've], we wrote that song together, and recorded it while we were together in LA for the folklore Grammys. It goes back that far. And the same with High Infidelity. Those songs, we actually recorded in her house, the vocals, we recorded them then. And I just kept making music, and it was kind, after we had made folklore and evermore, I started to have ideas which I would share. And eventually, she obviously made most of Midnights with Jack, and it became something different. But High Infidelity, and Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve, and The Great War, and we made Hits Different with Jack and Taylor and I also, and it was great to be part of that record in that way. (transcript from @cages-boxes-hunters-foxes)

The Great War and Hits Different: between April-October 2021 (Speculation)

In the above quote talking about his songs on Midnights, Aaron says "Eventually, she obviously made most of Midnights with Jack, and it became something different," implying his stuff was written before the bulk of midnights in fall. He also says High Infidelity and Would've Could've Should've "[go] back that far," which implies they were some of the earliest stuff on Midnights, so it's safe to assume TGW and Hits Different come sometime afterwards.

Summer 2021: Jack has a session with Sounwave, Sam Dew, and Zoe Kravitz, where the instrumentals for Lavender Haze and likely Glitch are written

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: Before Antonoff began to work on Swift’s tenth album, he was cooking up tracks with Spears, Dew, and Zoë Kravitz [...] During a brainstorming session, the quartet put together a track that would eventually become “Lavender Haze.”

November 3 2021: It was announced that Joe has been cast in Stars at Noon, alongside Margaret Qualley, Jack Antonoff's then girlfriend now wife. Since Joe was parachuted into the film last minute, filming had already started, making it likely he left as soon as possible.

Taylor: We’d been toying with ideas and had written a few things we loved, but Midnights actually really coalesced and flowed out of us when our partners (both actors) did a film together in Panama. Jack and I found ourselves back in New York, alone, recording every night, staying up late and exploring old memories and midnights past.

November 8: Jack gets back from touring with Bleachers. Let the games begin.

Vigilante Shit: November 2021 (Speculation)

Vigilante Shit is the sole solo writing credit on the album, which implies it was written before her and Jack were holed up together 24/7. Also Scooter and his wife divorced in July. Beyond that there's no evidence this is early in the process, besides it making sense that Taylor wrote this alone, brought it to Jack, and then fell into a creative inferno.

Maroon, Anti-Hero, You're on Your Own Kid, Midnight Rain, Bejeweled, Labyrinth, Mastermind, Paris, and Dear Reader: November/December 2021 (Inferring)

I don't have enough info on the making of any of these songs to give them each their own little blurb, but if anything pops up I will update this post and reblog it letting y’all know.

Question..?: After November 21, 2021 (Inferring)

We know Rachel Antonoff, Dylan O'Brien, and Austin Swift were there the day they recorded it thanks to this behind the scenes footage of them recording the cheering vocals. Dylan was filming The Vanishings at Caddo Lake in Louisiana sometime between October 5 and November 20. I don't know exactly which dates he was filming-- he was in New York for All Too Well filming in late October and to attend the premiere on November 12, but since we know for sure he was in Louisiana on the 20th, I'm just gonna Occam's Razor it and say Question was written sometime after he got back from that.

You're Losing Me: December 5, 2021 (Confirmed)

December 17, 2021: Filming wraps on Stars at Noon, and with it the bulk of recording for Midnights.

Lavender Haze: Early 2022 (Speculation)

Lavender Haze, Snow on the Beach, and Karma are the only songs to have Henson Recording Studios credited (I can't find studio credits for the 3am tracks so there is possibly more on there). This could point to them all being recorded around the same time time, or it could be in reference to Jack and Sounwave's original recording sessions taking place at Hensen. I lean towards the former, since 1) it seems like the Winter 2021 sessions were mostly between Taylor and Jack, and the spring sessions have other collaborators, and 2) the tabloid rumors about Taylor and Joe getting engaged really started heating up in February 2022. On the other hand, Sounwave implies that there was a notable stretch of time between Lavender Haze and Karma, so I totally understand if you want to put it with the rest of the Winter 2021 sessions. Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: A few months [after Jack and Sounwave wrote the instrumentals], Antonoff reached out to Spears, Dew, and Kravitz to see if he could pitch [Lavender Haze] to Swift, who loved it immediately. She wrote lyrics inspired by a Mad Men scene, numerous tabloid rumors and online gossip about her relationship status, and “1950s expectations.” “When Jack brought us in the hear for the first time, all our mouths dropped. She took it to a whole new world and made it her own. She created different pockets we did not hear.”

Glitch: Early 2022 (Speculation)

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: "Glitch,” one of the bonus songs on the Midnights (3am) edition, was born from the same studio session as “Lavender Haze.” I don't know if this means the instrumentals to Lavender Haze and Glitch were done in the same session, Taylor wrote the lyrics in the same session, or both. For the same reason as Lavender Haze, I lean towards this coming later in the process, as well as Glitch mentioning being together for six years, and in November 2021 Taylor and Joe had been together for a little over 5 years. That being said, Taylor could've assume the album was going to come out in 2022, and that she would stay with Joe until then, and bump up that date a bit. It's still very up in the air.

February 5, 2022: Taylor is photographed leaving Jack's house holding a keyboard.

Sweet Nothing: Spring 2022 (Inferring)

Joe is a co-write on this, meaning they likely wrote it after he got back from filming. It also mentions their trip to Ireland in 2021 and refers to it as "last July", implying it was written in 2022. While I was writing this timeline Taylor liked this post on twitter, implying that at least the second verse is in reference to Paul and Linda McCartney. The quote is from his poem Blessed, which you can read in this interview (TWs for death and cancer)

Bigger Than The Whole Sky: March 2022 (Inferring)

Claire Winter, a close friend of Taylor's, posts on Instagram that she miscarried. (I toyed with whether or not to add this, but seeing as Claire Winter made the information public herself, I decided to put it in. If she ever takes that Instagram post down, let me know and I'll delete this part.)

Snow on the Beach: April 1, 2022 (Inferring)

On April 1, Lana Del Rey posts a video on Instagram of Jack in the studio with an unidentified female voice in the background. Two days later she posts this photo, which Taylor and Jack both include in posts about Midnights/Snow on the Beach. Lana: Well, first of all, I had no idea I was the only feature [on that song]. Had I known, I would have sung the entire second verse like she wanted. My job as a feature on a big artist’s album is to make sure I help add to the production of the song, so I was more focused on the production. She was very adamant that she wanted me to be on the album, and I really liked that song. I thought it was nice to be able to bridge that world, since Jack [Antonoff] and I work together and so do Jack and Taylor. Taylor: And with Snow On The Beach, which features the genius Lana Del Rey, very lucky to have collaborated with her on that. And Dylan [O’Brien] was actually in the studio with me and Jack, because a lot of the time we record at his place, and Dylan was just hanging out, drinking wine with us, and listening to stuff, and he was just trying out the drum kit there. He wasn't serious. But we were drinking wine, and we were sort of like, 'We haven't recorded the drums for this one yet! See if you want to...' and he played the drums on the song. Sometimes it just happens like that. (transcript once again from jaimie)

Karma: Spring 2022 (Speculation)

Rolling Stone interview with Sounwave: The bubbly “Karma” came later [than Lavender Haze and Glitch], when Antonoff reached out to Spears for any other ideas he may have to contribute to the album and its synth-pop vision. “‘Karma’ was just a last-minute Hail Mary,” Spears says. “I remembered I was working with my guy Keanu [Beats] and had something that was too perfect not to send to her. As soon as I sent it, Jack was instantly like ‘This is the one. Playing it for Taylor now. We’re going in on it.’ The next day, I heard the final product with her vocals on it.”

April 19, 2022: Elle's interview with the Conversations with Friends cast is released, and when Joe is "asked if he hopes to continue writing songs, Alwyn simply says, “It’s not a plan of mine, no.”" It's possible this means Sweet Nothing was yet to be written, but I think it's more likely Joe was just denying in order to not create hype around a song that wasn't officially announced yet.

May 2022: Taylor teases Labyrinth lyrics in her NYU Commencement Speech and says m i d n i g h t very prominently on this instagram post, meaning by early summer she was likely confident in the album's name and which songs would make the tracklist.

And that's all for this timeline! Check out my others:

TIMELINES: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights PLAYLISTS: debut • fearless • speak now • red • 1989 • rep • lover • folklore • evermore • midnights • entire discography GENERAL: tag

#taylor swift #timeline*#wrote this one in a haze with frequent breaks to pace around cause i was shaking so much #so if theres a typo that’s why #as always lmk if you spot a mistake/want further sourcing on anything/etc #AHHHHHH!!!!!

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sonicslushie · 1 year

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Slipped My Mind ~ P.P.

Summary: You’re the person who designs Spiderman’s suits, but you never actually met the man- or boy- behind the mask.

A/N: terrible summary & first fic, originally this was going to be based on the conan gray song “yours” but it took an odd turn in there so it's not lmao. But if you wanna read that let me know i’m dying to write more for petey boy. This is also like a little fluff thing that i threw together in a few hours so it’s not the best (my b)

a playlist for u to listen to as u read<3

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark Intern!Reader

TW: kinda a clueless reader, mentions of blood and open wounds,

Wordcount: 3.6k

Ice cream was all you wanted. It was your lunch break from Stark Industries, the place you interned at because of your impressive resume, and partly because your dad just so happened to be the owner of Tony Stark’s favorite burger place. You had been a pretty smart kid, finished highschool early and graduated MIT with a degree in engineering and all you wanted was to build supersuits. That was the dream, wasn’t it? Helping the world’s mightiest heroes by being the one who created their high tech suits and accessories, actually making a difference for those who saved billions of lives? Yeah, no.

You started out three years ago as Ms. Potts' personal assistant at the ripe age of 16. You spent 2.5 years of that assisting just doing the basic intern stuff; grabbing coffee and burgers, attending meetings to take notes, scheduling and yatta yatta, the occasional fake laugh at a dad joke that Mr. Stark made. It wasn’t until you joined Ms. Potts in Mr. Stark’s lab to give him his burger, and you corrected his formulas on some project and you thought it was OVER. He looked surprised that you even spoke to him, oh fuck, you messed up. Or so you had thought. He actually told you that you were right?? Then, I swear to god, he asked what you would do to improve the project he was working on. (It was a super suit for the newest hero, Spiderman.) He liked your idea to add what you called the “training wheels” protocol. Mr. Stark decided to give you a chance and he had you help him create the rest of the suit, and now 6 months later, you were in charge of all things Spiderman.

But that’s not the point of the story right now, right now, you wanted ice cream.

And you had just bought two big scoops in a freshly made waffle cone. Honestly the best use of 5 bucks, or so you thought. Just as you were about to take the first lick, a red and blue streak sprinted past- no into you. It was like a movie, all you saw was your delicious creamy dessert flying up in the air in slow motion, then- SLAT! Both you and the ice cream were on the ground, a familiar looking super suit standing above you, stammering about how he was “so sorry” and “chasing a bad guy” in a very peppy voice.

“You’re Spiderman, why weren’t you swinging from building to building?” You asked, furious you were now going to have to buy another one. You just wanted one thing, could you not just have it without dealing with this bozo?

“Forgot to put in new web fluid. I’m sorry about your ice cream but I’ve really gotta- I don’t see him anymore. Shoot.” He says, shaking his head. “You know what, let me make this up to you. I’ll buy you another one.”

Well that seemed fair and it slightly cooled off your now bad mood. You agree and wait in line with the dude who you create super suits for. The funny thing is, this was actually the first time you ever met the one and only Spiderman- or Spiderling as Mr. Stark calls him. You don’t even know who the person is under the mask, but at this point you really didn’t care about it, you just wanted your ice cream.

After waiting in line for what felt like forever and making meaningless small talk with the masked hero, you make it to the front of the line.

“Two scoops of strawberry, please. Waffle cone.” You smile at the worker, then turn to Spiderboy. You say at the same time as the employee, “5 bucks.”

The Spiderdude pats his sides as if feeling for a wallet, then looks at you with that expressionless mask- god you had to work on that- and says, “I don't have my wallet.”

You could almost smack him in the back of the head, but you just take your wallet out and give the worker a 5 dollar bill. Taking the new ice cream, you turn to the hero, “Well now you owe me two, Spidey.”

“I-I’ll make it up to you, do you have Venmo?” He asks, panic rising in his voice. He sounded young, maybe around your age. If you were honest, he piqued your interest. So instead of rolling your eyes and walking away, you pulled your phone out.

“Here,” you say, ready to just get back to the lab. He takes a picture of it and gives you a thumbs up.

“I’ll have to make a new venmo so you can’t figure out my identity, but I gotta run.” He says, and literally runs off. You stand there, looking at the hero you basically manage but just met, then your ice cream. What a day, huh? You shrug it off and begin to eat your ice cream as you head back to the office.

The ice cream had been off your mind ever since you finished the yummy dessert, and went back to designing your own web fluid. Sure the dude had his own way of making it (you weren’t really sure if it had been coming out of him or not until today, you never really had the chance to ask anyone), but you knew you could do it better. Everyone at Stark Industries called you ‘Junior’ for a reason, and it wasn’t just because of your crazy intelligence. It might have also been the slight egotistical self assurance and the stubbornness you possessed.

As you worked you listened to music and snacked on the various foods you hid in the lab unbeknownst to Mr. Stark. Here and there you would test the web fluid with some of the new web shooter prototypes you had made, at this point you could swing around New York from how often you used these things. You often thought of it and giggled at the thought; ridiculous, these silly little dreams you possessed.

You had been giggling about it to yourself when the one and only Mr. Stark walked in- with a kid who was talking so fast and in such a familiar peppy tone that you couldn’t help but look up.

“-and then I looked up dodo birds and did you know they’re basically just big pigeons?” He finished, looking up at Mr. Stark with big brown doe eyes that sparkled in the light. Sparkle in the light? Oh come on, y/n. You caught yourself ogling at the new kid, still trying to figure out where you heard that voice before. Little miss genius might be able to create the highest tech super suits in the world, but boy oh boy did you have a hard time connecting dots.

“Right, big pigeons. Anyway, Peter, this is y/n y/l/n. Junior, this is Peter Parker.” Mr. Stark says, looking at you as if you could take the excitable kid off of his hands.

Now, Mr. Stark is a lot of things, and busy is one of them. This just so happens to affect his memory, and in this case, he completely forgot that he never introduced Spiderling- Peter Parker- to his favorite intern. It slipped his mind, I mean when you’re a billionaire CEO and a superhero, the little things tend to slip the mind. It’s not like he meant to never introduce you two, he really did mean to. But every time Peter’s been at the tower, Junior was always gone either for the weekend or for her lunch break. Plus, Mr. Stark had things to do. Like right now; get out of this boring conversation and get burgers from his favorite burger place with Happy.

“Oh it’s nice to meet you, Peter.” You say, not knowing that you met Peter earlier that day as Spiderman. But Peter knew, and he also forgot that he had to venmo you for that ice cream from earlier. Caught off guard, his eyes just go wide and he awkwardly smiles and waves at you like an idiot.

“Um okay. Anyway, Mr. Stark, I was about to head out, but I got the new web fluid made and finished up the new prototypes for web shooters. I also started up blueprints for a new suit. I forgot to mention I saw Spiderboy today and I gotta say, that suit does nothing for his ass.” You say, going back to the blueprints in front of you, making sure everything is perfect for tomorrow morning. Mr. Stark takes a peek over your shoulder, nodding in approval, then says, “Well I’ve got to hit the road, I’ve got… an important meeting to attend. Yeah. See ya tomorrow, Junior, same to you Pete.”

You and Peter tell Mr. Stark bye in various fashions, being left in an awkward silence, neither of you really knowing how to proceed from there. Mr. Stark never told you that you would be meeting with Spiderdude to discuss your progress on the new ideas you had come up with but if he didn't show up before 5 you weren't staying, you'd didn't get paid enough. Peter wasn’t told he would be seeing the girl he literally ran into and owe her ice cream money. Seems like it just slipped Mr. Stark’s mind again.

“So um, whatcha doing here Peter?” You say, begin to clean up your workstation to go home. Peter was just standing awkwardly behind you, trying to figure out what to say. He was also unaware that you didn’t know that he was Spiderman, he had figured Mr. Stark would have told you if you were the one working on his suits all this time.

“Oh I was um- just leaving actually. Looks like you’re ready to go home, so I- Yeah I’m just gonna go.” He says quickly, turning on his heel to leave. At this point you were just ready to go home, so you shrug it off and say, “Nice meeting you, Peter. See ya.”

He doesn’t say anything as he leaves. If he was being honest, he’s never been good at talking to pretty girls. Not to mention super awesome pretty intern girls who have been providing him his super awesome super suit. Probably too many “supers” but he didn’t care, he could barely even function in the same room as you. Not to mention he made a fool of himself earlier, but honestly you didn’t even seem to remember, which threw him off even more. And when you said “nice to meet you” it confused him, you two had met earlier that day. God, he had to get some fresh air.

Peter made it outside and was cooling down from that super awkward and weird encounter, when he saw you pulling out of the car park in your car, singing along loudly to some Miley Cyrus song. He turns away, trying not to make it obvious that he was avoiding you. But you turned your head as you were looking for oncoming traffic, and you saw him.

You don’t know why you did it, but you rolled your window down and yelled above the loud ass music, “Hey Peter! You waiting on a ride?”

He was too caught off guard to lie, and to be fair he didn’t even like lying, so he shook his head and before he knew it, he was getting in your car.

“Where are you heading?” You asked, turning the music down. He tries not to be as awkward as before as he says, “Queens, but it’s a far drive you really don’t have to-”

“Oh I live there too! Don’t even worry about it,” you say, happy you could do something for the odd kid. He was a bit awkward, but in a cute sort of way. It almost made your stomach get butterflies at the thought of you of all people making him nervous.

“Oh okay, thanks so much. I really appreciate it,” he says, then after a beat of intense silence with Miley wailing in the background, he decides to try and make conversation. “So how long have you been working for Mr. Stark?”

“Since I was 16, so like 3 years. Most of it was being Ms. Potts’ assistant though,” you say, tapping your fingers to the beat.

“Woah, wait so did you like graduate early?” He asks, now immensely intrigued. You give him the rundown of the past 6 years of your life, to which he’s very impressed and totally not thinking about how pretty you look in the dying sunlight. Totally would never do that.

“But yeah, that’s me. What about you, how did you get involved with Mr. Stark?” You ask, glancing over at him slightly. You must say for a dork, he had some very nice features.

“Very long story that includes him hitting on my aunt. Ugh,” he shivers at the memory, “And a trip to Germany.”

That rings some bells in your head, but to be fair Mr. Stark is in Germany a lot so you don’t really question it. Like I said, you don’t connect dots very well unless it’s in the form of equations.

You guys talk all the way to Peter’s apartment, you even give him your phone number if he ever needs a ride to the office. As Peter walks off, you both can’t help but wonder how weird the day has been. But as you drive off and turn up the radio, you put it out of your mind. Time to go home and relax.

Only when you got home, you didn’t relax. Almost as soon as you step into your apartment, your phone lets out a little “cha-ching” noise, notifying you that someone just venmoed you. You completely forgot about Spidey owing you for your ice cream until you saw the little notification: Spidey paid you $10 with an ice cream emoji underneath. You smirk, then go back to fully entering your apartment. Only to hear your phone go off a few seconds later, another venmo notification, this time a comment left under the money he just paid you.

I feel really bad about earlier. I figured I’d pay for both.

You raise an eyebrow at your phone, smiling a little to yourself. He seems sweet. Sweeter than most guys you’ve run into in the middle of New York. And trust me, it’s happened more often than you’d like to admit.

You type back.

I really appreciate that Spiderdude. Love the profile pic;)

His profile picture was that one Spiderman meme with the three Spidermans pointing at each other. It made you giggle, at least he had a sense of humor. Most superheroes (*cough* Steve Rogers *cough*) didn’t. A few seconds later he sends another message.

Next time I’ll get you three scoops:)

You smiled and decided that was a pretty good deal, three free ice creams? Sounds like a scam but you weren’t going to question it. You just put your phone down and decided it was time to have a nice warm bath and rock out to Taylor Swift.

It was a while before you heard from both Peter or Spiderman, and you were still clueless to the fact that they were the same person. After a few weeks of that whole situation being off your mind, you were going into work on a late night call from Mr. Stark said that something urgent came up with the Spiderling and he wasn’t in town to take care of it. So, you jumped out of bed and rushed out still in your pajamas to the Stark Tower.

You sped all the way there, the stars oddly bright for the city. You made note to go to the rooftop of your apartment whenever you were able to make it back. You always had a thing for the stars, having not grown up in New York. The city was beautiful, but you could truly say that you hated the nights there. No stars glittering overhead, cars and people being loud at all hours of the night. The only good thing you could say about the night in New York was all the food places that were open 24/7. (You tend to have a craving for Thai food at odd hours of the night.)

Upon arriving at the Stark Tower, you ask F.R.I.D.A.Y what’s going on, and she directs you to your lab. You make your way up there, wondering what in the world this kid could be needing that’s so urgent. If it’s something stupid, dear god, help him. You would molly whop him into the next dimension.

The lab doors upon a very beat up Spiderboy, who’s laid across your desk. Laying in a pile of blood. Okay, good enough reason, you supposed, immediately dropping all idea’s of punching the poor kid in the head.

You rush up to him, taking in his half dead state of being. A giant would- no a hole would be a better way of putting it. Just a big hole in his side, with a lot of blood seeping out of it. You poke him, making sure he’s still breathing. He groans in response, it’s enough to get you moving. You had planned on this a long time ago, you created a device to regrow skin just for this occasion. You found it and within seconds, his wound began healing, though it might take a while for him to create enough blood to be able to even be able to sit up again. At that thought, you ordered F.R.I.D.A.Y. to get the building’s onsite medical team to get the kid.

Once you were finished fixing his gaping hole, you poked him again, praying he was still alive. There was so much blood everywhere, but you tried to keep your Thai food down as you begged for him to wake up.

“Come on kid, you can’t die on me. Mr. Stark would kill us both,” you say, starting to shake him now. You could see his chest moving up and down slightly, but he wasn’t waking up. You pleaded in your head for the med team to get there quickly, you didn’t know why you were so upset by this. Sure, it would be sad if the kid died, but you didn’t know him like that. You didn’t know him well enough to be crying over his dying body, begging him to just open his eyes or say something. Not that you could see them through the mask-

The mask.

Your trembling hand goes to take it off, but the medical team rushes in just as you begin peeling it off, only exposing his neck.

You step back as the med team begins working on him, you let them know that you healed him, but he needed blood. That was all you could say before they moved him onto the gurney and began taking him away, you called after, “Just wake up, Spidey, please!”

That was the first thing that Peter remembers hearing, your voice. Lights were flashing overhead as he heard people saying things above him, though he couldn’t comprehend any of it. God, he was so dizzy. And why wasn’t his side hurting anymore? He started grabbing for his side, but the people around him stopped him from doing so. What was going on?

“You were bleeding out,” one of them says from above him, he’s starting to hear them more clearly now. Maybe his superhealing had finally set in. “No, Ms. y/l/n just saved your life. Now calm down, you’re going to be okay.”

Peter didn’t realize he was just speaking his thoughts as they came to him, he also didn’t realize that you had decided to follow the medical team just to make sure he ended up okay. It’s not that you didn’t trust them, you just wanted to be sure. So much for looking at the stars, huh?

Peter kept babbling as the medical team got him to their facility a few floors down, starting to connect tubes to give him more blood. One of them goes to take his mask off to check for any head wounds, but he stops them. He’s conscious enough to know that he knows none of these people, and none of these people need to know that he’s Peter Parker.

“You’re Peter Parker?” You say, total confusion in your voice. Damn it, did he say that out loud? “Yes, you did, you idiot.”

You get as close as you can without getting in the way of the people trying to help him. Once they were all done and he was getting the blood that he needed, you asked them to leave so you could talk to Peter. How did you not realize? He has a very distinctive voice, and obviously that’s why Mr. Stark brought him into your lab a few weeks ago. Seriously, not your best moment.

“So you’re the infamous Spiderman?” You say, sitting on the edge of his cot. He peels his mask off and takes a breath of fresh air.

“Wait,” it hits him that you didn’t know, what is going on? “You didn’t know?”

“Nope,” you laugh, “I’m not really sure how I didn’t, especially after Mr. Stark brought you in there. I’m also not sure how he never mentioned that you were there person I’ve been making all this superhero stuff for. Must have slipped his mind.” Understatement of the century.

“I thought you knew, that’s why I never really mentioned it. Also,” he smiles a little to himself, “I promised to get you ice cream next time I saw you. How about it?”

You raise your eyebrow at him, “You’re in a cot getting blood poured into you.”

“When I’m better?”

“Sounds like a date.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fluff #peter parker imagine #mcu peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #spiderman x you #spiderman x reader #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman fanfic

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dollymoon · 8 months

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🍄Mushroom Oasis - Mychael Facts Compilation🍄

A facts compilation of Mychael from Mushroom Oasis by @deerspherestudios.

All of these come from what they’ve replied in their tumblr! I write these down as the creator, Cheea, has stated them with a few changes/summarizing in some for easier reading.

There may be some light minor spoilers a tiny bit here and there!

The 1st half will be general Mychael information and then the 2nd half with be more Mychael & MC information.

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💚Here’s a NARRATIVE PLAYLIST [by Cheea] based off Day 1 of Mushroom Oasis and a MYCHAEL PLAYLIST [also by Cheea], if you wish to listen to them while reading~💚

💛What made you want to write such an empathetic and slow burn kind of Yandere? [Source 1 & 2] initially it was gonna be a snail monsterman who steals crops out of your back garden and you go out to bonk him on the head only to invite him into your home. Maybe in the future i'll work on the snailboy dating sim </3

But I think I’ve always wanted a cryptid-like yandere for the gamejam when it all started. It was a very barebones concept about a lonely mushroom man who sets up spore traps in order to ensnare and kidnap company. It was supposed to be way creepier and invasive as a oneshot thing, and was never meant to have multiple days in the story. I’m glad I didn’t go in that direction, though. I’m having more fun fleshing out Mychael’s character.

So when I started Mushroom Oasis, I wanted to go for a strangers-to-lovers scenario, instead of starting out with the yandere already smitten with the MC. That way, he gets to know you at the same time as you getting to know him. Hence, the attempt at slow burn haha. I just thought it’d be interesting to try and express it differently. I don’t know if I’m able to execute my intentions well but I’m doing my best! it's gonna be fun writing him as he starts to spiral :-3c Laddie doesn't know what attraction/attachment feels like. Woe be upon ye

💛Was Mychael always going to be named Mychael, or did he have other names upon his initial creation? And does he have a last name? [Source 1 & 2] Always been Mychael! Lorewise he has a different name but MC wouldn’t be able to pronounce it, so he goes by Mychael. And he doesn’t have a last name :-] He’s just Mychael!

💛What species is Mychael? Is he a faerie? [Source] As much as everyone calls him faefolk, he isn't! He's more… monster-oriented I suppose? Creature or cryptid-like. I'm not sure what to categorize him tbh hahaha.

💛Is Mychael over 18? [Source 1 & 2] Oh he’s WAY over 18. He’s way older than he looks.

💛What’s Mychael’s Height? (Dolly’s note🌹): So initially, Mychael’s height was 5'8 but then Cheea said “Mychael is 5'8 (172cm) in the demo! I just wonder if I should've made him a big boi since the beginning but i held myself back 😔” But they didn’t want to make the decision just themselves; thus they made a poll to keep Mychael as is, or to make him taller, taking into account the fan’s wishes as well. The one that won was making Mychael taller. (54.5% vs 45.5%).

And thus Cheea decided his new height would be 6'2. Cheea also added “I think it’s a fair balance since taller Mychael won the majority vote, but a vocal few really liked his original height, so I decided to go in the middle <3”

So yeah his current height is 6’2 (187cm approximately).

💛His sexuality and gender Identity? [Source] He identifies as male with he/him pronouns. And I’ve decided panromantic asexual fits him best! I just don't find him being too sexual tbh. Graysexual at best. Feel free to interpret it differently.

💛Are you okay with NSFW art of Mychael? [Source] 50/50? I’m an adult and so is he as a character. I’d say I wouldn’t mind as long as it’s properly tagged and only the right people have access to it 👍I will not share it on my main blog though but tag it as ‘mushroom oasis nsfw’ or something so people can blacklist it.

💛Mychael’s Headcanon voice? [Source] Jonathan Groff! Particularly his role as Kristoff in Frozen.

💛Can he sing like how Kristoff does in frozen? [Source] I’d imagine he could! He’s not much for singing though, he’s more likely to hum random tunes throughout the day.

💛Are Mychael's scleras just black or is it like a void/empty socket? [Source] He just has black scleras!

💛Does Mychael have tear ducts in his lower eyes? [Source] They do!! The lower eyes basically work like regular eyes, just smaller below his main ones. They can blink independently of each other too.

💛How does Mychael see if he leaves only one pair of his eyes open? It forms a blind spot but depends on which pair he closes! He sees 90% out of his upper eyes and 10% out of his bottom half. His ability also relies on eye contact, so by having both sets locked onto someone else's gaze the influence is stronger. And here’s an illustrated example!

💛Can Mychael see in the dark? [Source] Yes he can see in the dark; his eyes have that tapetum lucidum layer that reflects light in the dark, so they also glow :-)

💛What's Mychael's skin texture like? [Source] Almost human but you can tell something’s different. Eerily smooth, despite his rough palms. If you pinch his cheeks or poke his sides enough times (if he doesn’t get mad at you for it) you’d be able to tell his skin’s a bit thicker than yours. Also like fungi I imagine his skin has chitin. So a bit tougher maybe.

💛Are Mychael's horns and tail soft and fragile like an actual mushroom? [Source] If you mean the shroom-like caps on his head and tip of his tail; soft but definitely not fragile. Think of those cheap squishies with some give but bounce back pretty quick! They’re susceptible to bruising too.

💛Is Mychael’s tail poisonous? If not, how would Mychael react if someone bit it? [Source 1 & 2] Nop it isn’t poisonous. And like… a straight up bite out of it?? Or a nibble??? If you bit him so hard it takes a piece of his tail it’d hurt and bleed a lot. It’s full of nerve endings but will heal over and regenerate eventually.

If it’s just a nibble you’d just taste dirt and bitterness I think haha. And depending on how close you are to him, he’d either be flustered beyond belief or just downright very uncomfortable hahaha.

💛Is Mychael’s blood blue because some irl creatures have blue blood due to their blood having copper instead of iron or was it for aesthetic reasons? [Source] It was definitely for aesthetic purposes more than anything, since I wanted him to blush a non-human color. One of the earlier concept sketches had him blushing bright magenta haha.

💛What does Mychael smell like? [Source] I’d describe it as freshly cut grass with a hint of log fires. Like camping in summer if that makes sense.

💛Does Mychael purr? [Source] Since im honestly a sucker for the purring trope i'll say hell yea tbh hahaha. His would be a really low rumble I'd imagine. He can also occasionally let out a low trill or those ‘mrrp’ sounds when he’s caught off guard or surprised but it's rare since he's real embarrassed when he does it.

💛Is Michael ticklish? [Source] Considering he’s never been tickled before,,, I think he’d go into shock if you did that to him💀 But to answer your question yeah I think he’d be the most ticklish person you’ve ever met haha. He’s either gonna accept his fate or go down fighting😔

💛Does Mychael snore in his sleep? [Source] He’d be a pretty quiet sleeper I think!

💛Does Mychael get sick? Since he’s not human, he doesn’t get sick like we do:

He’s aware we call it being sick, but his term is ‘feeling withered/wilted.’

He doesn’t have a temperature, but his skin turns pale and blemished like a diseased plant, and gets kinda slimy and cold like a frog’s. Here's a visual of how he looks like sick.

No energy, no appetite, barely talks. Very zombie-ish.

He gets real drowsy and dazed and the only thing to motivate him is seeking out warmth.

He just needs sunshine and sleep to get better so you’d find him laying out in the sun during the day and hiding away in blankets at night, sleeping it off. He only eats once a day, since his body needs rest rather than sustenance.

He gets sick like... once every few years that's how rare it is but when it happens it knocks him out for like a week </3

💛Does Mychael fear metal? What phobias does he have? [Source 1 & 2] No, he doesn’t fear metal and iron wouldn't hurt him! His phobias/fears are: snowstorms, thunder/lightning and water wells. In no particular order :-) (Oh, and trains/train whistles.)

💛Does Michael have any food that he hates? [Source] Anything spicy! He can handle some spice, but anything that gives heat on your tongue he’d definitely be put off since it makes him physically ill.

💛Mychael's life cycle: [Source] His life cycle is very different from a human’s.

💛Does Mychael have his own languge? If so, what does it sound like? [Source 1 & 2] He actually has his own language, but speaks in English (or your own language if you’d prefer!)

His language sounds very animalistic; a lot of growls, hisses and clicks. It’s like hearing a cat verbally communicate with those sounds. If you guys are familiar with Toki Pona, (here’s a video for reference.) the simplicity is very similar in terms of vocab and sentence structure. Considering the limitations of those same growls, hisses and clicks, plus how little he communicates in his own language, it’s not a complex system but he speaks it regardless. He wont be speaking it in-game hence why im okay answering the question.

💛Can Mychael read? [Source] Yep, he can read! He talks about it some more in Day 2.

💛Can Mychael swim? [Source] He’d be able to swim, yeah.

💛How much does Mychael know of human customs/cooking/inventions? And does he like/dislike some of them? [Source] He knows enough to make a living for himself. He’s really into DIY and crafting, but if anything gets more complex to the point it goes over his head- he’d just abandon it. As for human customs he knows even less; it’s kinda touch and go what he does and doesn’t know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ For example, he's seen cars and phones but doesn't understand how they work. Traditional stuff like crafting/cooking/gardening is easier for him to grasp.

💛Does Mychael have any religion/belief? [Source] I’ve played around with this concept in my head! I did want to explore a unique kind of religion/belief Mychael has but,,, eventually I kinda settled on the idea that Mychael broke off from that way of thinking? Or something like that. It can be accepted that he used to have a religion- or never had one to begin with. it's a tricky subject for me anyway </3 But feel free to have your own interpretation!

💛Does Mychael have any superstitions? [Source] His biggest superstition is respecting the forest and whatever happens in the forest, stays in the forest. (That is until you came along and made him break his own rule. Whoops.)

💛What's Mychael’s wardrobe like? [Source] He’s not much for fashion; as long as he thinks it’s practical and comfortable he’d wear it. He wouldn’t be a fan of clothes that’re less weather-resistent though, since he clearly needs stuff that could stand the wilderness.

He doesn’t accessorize much either, preferring to keep simple and be as drab as possible to attract less attention. But I think he’d love to try nail polish :-)) He has a lot of hats and scarves though.

💛Would Mychael be willing to wear a dress? [Source] I’d like to think he’s tried em before! He kinda had to scrap by when it came to clothes so he wouldn’t be picky in his early days.

Nowadays, he probably thinks they’re nice to wear but impractical for his daily chores, so he mostly sticks to tops and bottoms. But he won’t be opposed to it.

💛When did Mychael start knitting and why? [Source] He’s been knitting for a few years, so he’s kinda advanced. As for why, he finds it relaxing especially after a long day, and usually does it before bedtime. Plus he just loves being bundled up in warm things in general.

💛What is Mychael's favorite thing to knit? [Source] His favorite thing to knit are beanies!! :-D

💛What are other craftsmanship does Mychael do? [Source 1 & 2] He’s tried out woodworking, sculpting, candle-making, pottery etc. Knitting just happens to be his favorite of all the things he’s tried haha. Assume Mychaels an expert at gardening too!

💛Does Mychael ever overwork himself to the point of almost passing out? [Source] He definitely used to! It’s not easy making a living out in the wilderness; especially when he only had himself to rely on. Thankfully he doesn’t need to go through that anymore; he’s made a pretty nice home for himself since then. He's been thru a lot. Sopping wet cat energy.

💛How long has Mychael been in his home/cabin for? [Source] Previously he’d wander around like a nomad before finding himself a home. He’s only settled down into his cabin in the woods for a few years, it’s still a work in progress by his standards.

💛Does Mychael like stargazing? [Source] He’s more of a daytime person tbh! At night he’d prefer to stay cozy indoors. When you spend half your life sleeping outside in the cold. You don't miss it much despite the pretty lights in the sky.

💛What kind of music does Mychael listen to? [Source] Hm! He rarely listens to music, so he doesn’t have a preference tbh. If he had to choose- Perhaps something more upbeat and dancey since it’s a nice change from the quiet, but only for short periods. He’d probably enjoy whatever you’re listening to if you give him the chance :-)! Lyrics don't matter as much to him. He'd just enjoy it based off the sound.

💛What are some of Mychael's favorite scents? [Source] Top 3 would be the smell of old books, honey and (strangely enough) gasoline??? But the last one is soso rare for him he finds it exciting when he happens to catch a whiff, even if he has no idea what it is haha.

If you happen to be the type to wear perfumes/scents, he’d quickly associate the smell with you and have it be another one of his favorites :-)

💛How would Mychael react if he found a lost child in the woods? [Source] He’d be surprised for sure. His part of the woods is pretty untouched by humans, so to find one wandering this far is definitely a shock to him. If the kid was too scared to let him approach, he’d have to use a tiny fraction of his ability to calm them down, so as not to leave any side effects (younger minds are more vulnerable to it). If the kid wasn’t scared and asked if he was some sort of woodland fae/goblin creature, he’d go along with it and say he’s come to rescue them.

After making sure the kid is alright, he’d either try to find the parents straight away or bring them home if they needed food or rest. He wouldn’t dare adopt a child willy nilly, and if there was no other way, he’d probably drop them somewhere like a police or fire station (he can’t really differentiate between them, just that they respond to emergencies).

Overall he’s not opposed to being around children, just not used to it.

💛I see Mychael as a very docile and friendly creature- but in the 3rd ending of the game "Playing Pretend" left me with a doubt... Would he really be a bad guy? [Source] You’re not wrong! Mychael’s not the most violent, even if he is capable of it. In Ending 3 he just… panicked. Though don’t underestimate the things he’d resort to when he realizes how attached he’s getting to you :-)

He’s calm and composed… until he isn’t.

💛How many creatures/people has Mychael found "affected" by those mushrooms that the MC came across? [Source] You’re not the first, that’s for sure! He definitely knows about them, but finds it unnecessary to tell you (at least for now). He was quick to dismiss your doubts on how you lost consciousness, giving you an easy explanation even if he had to lie.

Most of the time he lets the incapacitated creatures be; “it’s the will of the forest,” after all. Although he does break that rule when he finds humans that’re still alive (in this case, you!) in his forest, but that’s very very rare.

💛How would Mychael act if MC introduced him to their friend? MC told their friend that Mychael wouldn't hurt them but the friend is still a little scared and weary of him. [Source] Definitely wary of them too. He kinda trusts you, but can he trust them? He’s met his fair share of humans; not a lot of them were as accepting as you. He can try to lower his guard but your friend would need to convince him themself.

💛Mychael & MC in Day 1 of the game. [Source] Mychael, as a person, is quite solitary in nature; he likes being alone and you’ll find out why. He does however desire company and he’s only realized just how pleasant having someone around can be (hence his reaction for the Bad Endings in Day 1 if you wish to leave/run away).

You grow closer to Mychael as you hang out with him and do little things that he appreciates. Example: The first thing that boosts you to immediate friend status is your willingness to accept his physical looks, something that’s never happened to him before. Little things like that mean a lot to him and motivates him to prolong your stay.

If Mychael met a more grouchy/mean MC on Day 1 he’d probably not be as attached. He’d just save you, feed you and send you home when you ask hahaha. Of course, this will change as he gets to know you better, at that stage he’ll be willing to overlook your flaws like any upstanding yandere.

💛How would Mychael react if the player character was already in a relationship with someone else? [Source] At his current attachment in Day 1 [Friend status], he’d be respectful about it! A little overprotective but mostly curious what dating and marriage is all about. He’s not familiar with it outside of whatever knowledge he happened to pick up.

Now if he’s grown obsessed developed feelings and found out afterwards though…

💛Can you date Mychael in this game? Or not? [Source] I mean that's the goal! ¯_(ツ)_/¯ If his responses in asks currently give off a platonic vibe, that's because they are.

As of Day 1, Mychael's feelings towards you are positive but mostly platonic [Here's a visual affection level chart]. His bad endings show his desperation for company rather than you reciprocating any romantic feelings.

As I update the game, his responses will most likely be more romantically-driven. The game is a slow burn after all :-) He's a yandere- but a yandere who hasn't fallen in love yet. Though I do plan on adding a platonic ending bc sometimes u just wanna kiss a bestie without any romantic feelings attached.

💛What made you think of the pet name ‘Firefly’ for MC? [Source] It honestly just came to me as I was concepting the game ;v;! Other pet names Mychael would’ve used were: turtledove, poppet and sweetpea. He would switch it up in the initial draft but sticking to one makes it more special I think.

💛What does Mychael think about femboys? [Source] He doesn’t really mind nor care how you present yourself :-0! In fact he’d find it strange you asked that at all after you explain what it means dhfjsjf

💛Does Mychael have a gender preference? [Source] Not at all! His favorite genre of human is you :-) Plus gender talk goes way over his head. He's too busy thinking about survival to mind that stuff. Anything you identify with he's absolutely okay with <3

💛How would Mychael feel about someone a lot shorter than him? [Source] He had to admit he forgot adult humans come in your size,,, he wouldn’t think much of it though! He’s just excited to make a friend :-)

💛What would Mychael's "ideal type" be? [Source] I think he’d be more attracted to gentleness, I think. Someone who is kind despite a harsh reality; willing to understand a creature like him and someone he trusts he can drop his guard around.

But even if you don’t fit that criteria, he’d still like you as long as you accept him for who he is! There’s no need to worry about changing yourself to fit his preference <3

💛How did the player get to Mychael’s home? [Source] I always imagined it as piggyback to be honest! But bridal carry, a fireman’s carry, over-the-shoulder, whatever you guys are comfortable with he’s definitely capable of <3 He may be shorter than most (Dolly’s note🌹: His height changed since this ask so maybe not anymore lol so let's change it to 'He may seem weak') but he's strong.

💛Is MC permanently affected by the mushroom ring they stepped in? How much power does Mychael hold against it? [Source] No, MC is not permanently affected by the mushroom ring they stepped in. In one of the bad endings, the influence of it over you is stronger than what Mychael can fight against, hence he releases you as he sees it as the forest already claiming you fully. He can do nothing else to save you.

That’s why he insists on you staying for dinner, and is surprised when you say yes, as he really thought he lost you already for a moment there :-) Past that choice, the mysterious ‘purple’ influence no longer affects you, as Mychael had successfully distracted you long enough for the mind-altering effects to wear off. He just needed the right thing to say to keep you grounded. Lest you wander off and end up in the ground </3

💛If we asked, would he talk to us in his own language? [Source] If he were to talk in it you wouldn’t be able to differentiate one word to another, they all sound the same hahaha.

💛Can we research what type of fae creature Mychael is? Will he be okay with it? [Source] He might be apprehensive at first, but if you ask the right questions he’d probably answer just enough to satiate your curiosity. Don’t be surprised if he leaves out certain things though, he doesn’t want you to think he’s a freak. 💔 He doubts you'd find anything in research though but who knows

💛Do you think Mychael would be a good teacher, when it comes to knitting? [Source] He’s never taught anyone before but he’d be happy to! (He’d probably be a very hands-on teacher cuz he’s bad at explaining–)

💛What if you knitted something for Mychael? [Source] If you knitted something for him he’d probably wear it/look at it multiple times throughout the day getting butterflies in his stomach.

💛If MC brought him to a secret river as a gift would he go? [Source] The thing I’d correct is Mychael would bring MC to a river instead of the other way around hahaha. MC is the poor meowmeow who got lost in the woods on Day 1. Their ass would not!! know any secret rivers

💛How would Mychael react if MC threw him a surprise party, to celebrate his birthday or to celebrate the day they both met? [Source] I think he’d love it a lot!! He’s not one to celebrate much if anything, but he’d be so happy if you threw a little surprise just for him :-) Especially knowing he gets to spend time with his favorite person in the world for such a special occasion <3

💛Is there any fun activities that Mychael would drag MC to? [Source] Oh for sure! He’d probably take you outdoors a lot and show you all his favorite spots in the forest :-)!! He’d probably bring you along to do his daily errands if you’d allow it haha

💛What would Mychael say if I were to take two slices of bread, put his head in between and sweetly ask: "what are you?" The answer lol

💛What would Mychael’s reaction be if MC tried giving him spicy food? [Source] If you try to give him a spicy dish, he’d definitely smell it first before he even tastes it. He’d just politely decline in that scenario.

💛What is his opinion if MC is the type to snore? [Source] He's definitely the kind of person to have the TV on in the room even if their not watching- just to have some noise around the house. So if MC were the type to snore… he’d probably find the sound strangely comforting? He’d find it jarring at first but grow used to it quickly.

It’s nice to hear you and know that someone is around after being alone for so long, especially when he’s up during late nights <3

💛How would Mychael feel about an MC who steals and wears his sweaters? [Source] He’d find it strange why you’d wanna steal when you can just ask– he’d also find it very endearing. Should he be concerned that you're a potential thief?? Or just worry about how cute you look?? a moral dilemma

💛Is there any type of clothing that Mychael likes to see on MC? [Source] I’d imagine he’d like clothes on MC that are more earth-toned perhaps, greens and browns that remind him of his forest and such. :-) Loose clothes are a bonus too cuz it makes you look comfy around him! i think he'd be a fan of animal-themed clothes too; pawprint socks or a fox cap or a rabbit hoodie- something like that.

💛What is Mychael’s love language? [Source] This is assuming MC and Mychael have been friends/lovers for a while; When you’re on the receiving end: Offering Gifts 🎁💖

He’s never had anyone be around as long as you have; he’s kinda new to the gifting thing but does so with a lot of enthusiasm!!

Whether it’s something he made or found, knowing he chose it for you is what makes it soso special.

He just loves the idea of being able to give something that was a part of himself and insert it into your life if that makes sense.

He also loves doing it because he believes you deserve to have nice things with all his heart :-)!

If he’s not sure what to gift you he’d rely on pretty little knickknacks he thinks you’d like but still be on the safe side; flowers, jewelry, decorations and accessories.

But if he does figure out your interests he’d do his best to accommodate! Books, toys, tools and clothes… he has his means of getting stuff he can’t make himself.

The idea of you keeping his gifts as a sign of friendship/love makes him really happy!!

Lowkey if he sees you using/wearing/displaying a gift he gave in the past he’d be purring non-stop.

When he’s on the receiving end; Words of Affirmation 💬💕

We know how he feels about his physical appearance so this is a no-brainer. His self-esteem isn’t the best :’-)

Being alone/isolated as he is, he might confuse physical affection but nothing is more clear to him than words straight from your mouth about how much you mean to him <3

At first he wonders if you truly mean what you say when you talk so positively about him, but then he slowly starts to believe it.

Do not underestimate the impact of one (1) compliment as simple as “You look good today, Mychael.” He’d remember it for at least a week.

It’s a bit of a guessing game to figure out what gets him the best. If you praise his skill at something his response would be, “Oh I guess I got good at it. Thanks, firefly :-)” but if you praise his looks and mannerisms you’ve hit the jackpot.

Blushing, stuttering, avoiding your gaze level of embarrassment.

If you’re really close friends or basically dating, he will absolutely ask for your opinion on how you feel about him from time to time, just to get reassurance from you.

Overall nothing gets him better than just hearing positive remarks from a loving source aka you :-) <3

💛How would Mychael react if we made him some lunch while he was knitting and feed it to him? The cute illustrated answer

💛How would he react to a very clingy MC? [Source] If you mean very clingy, he’d be pretty tense about it, to be honest. He’s not used to physical touch but doesn’t mind it; if you take it easy and ask permission (so he doesn’t get overwhelmed) he’d be more okay with it! Just respect him when he asks you for space every once in a while <3

(Dolly’s note🌹: I can only guess but I think this answer is if you're still in the friend status because if this applies even in the obsessed status, the below Q&A would so funny in comparison)

💛But is Mychael clingy? This guy? Clingy? Nahhh. Nothing to worry about, anon :-)/s Here's a visual of his clinginess, he's very clingy yes lol.

💛Is Mychael the jealous type? [Source] It’s rare for him to feel jealous, but I’d imagine when it does happen he’d feel it very intensely on the inside. But you’d probably be none the wiser 💔

💛How would Mychael react if we confess our feelings to him? [Source] Bold of you to assume he won’t be the one to confess first 🤨

💛Does Mychael like to be kissed? [Source] His kind arent accustomed to physical affection. Does he even know what kissing is??? Thats for me to decide and you to figure out 👀 BUT He’d love getting kisses! On the cheeks especially :-) But careful not to overstimulate him; he’s kinda like a cat when you pet ‘em too much and they get all frazzled. Kisses on the lips he's less inclined but doesn't mind em time to time. Maybe like a peck or two. And here's a gif of pampering Mychael's face with kisses <3

💛Does Mychael know about marriage customs in human civilization? [Source] He’s familiar with human marriage the same way a young kid would be; involves inviting people, dressing up and wearing rings for some reason?? How strange to go to such lengths when you could just be around that same person the rest of your life and still be the same??

He doesn’t put much significance on it personally. Unless…? 👀 💛What would Mychael do if MC took care of him while he was sick? [Source] He’s not used to asking someone to care for him, but in this state if MC offered to help he’d honestly just ask you to keep him warm too with zero assumption as to what you might think. He’s just a little too out of it to be embarrassed about it. Example of providing him warmth.

💛Would Mychael let us hug him when he’s sick or would he push us away? Although, would this make us sick? [Source] He would! I’d say he’s the most physically clingiest when he’s sick. He’s basically sleepy all the time and other than seeking warmth, he doesn’t communicate much.

And no, we can’t get sick from him and vice versa, since our bodies are different from his. So no worries about getting yourself sick when you’re around him!

💛What would Mychael do if the MC got ill? [Source] Oh he’d be worried beyond belief! He wouldn’t leave you alone for a second.

He’s not familiar with human sickness, but he’d do his best to provide whatever it is you need. Hot soup, warm blankets, he’d even risk going to get medicine for you if you ask.

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Some facts I didn’t add as Cheea didn’t give a direct answer to some questions, like Mychael’s family, since they’ll eventually be answered in the game <3

But I hope you enjoy this and that it may be useful to you all!

#mushroom oasis #visual novel #mushroom oasis vn #mychael #mushroom oasis mychael #info organizing

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minustwofingers · 1 year

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exoplanet p. 4.5

second half of exoplanet part 4!

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: PLEASE READ! mentions of nsfw content (read at your own risk), violence, explicit language. also a lot of angst. ellie is still kind of a dick but not quite as much.

a/n: haha. isn’t it sooo funny how i said this would come out almost 12 hours later and then i posted it? i need to hit the hay early asf today if im to be frank w you guys so here it is now. i want to thank you all for the sweet and kind messages and comments i’ve been getting—they’ve been fuel for my writing!! also, i’ve got a better idea of how i want to end it now, so i’ve got a pretty good outline for what’s going to happen. expect around 3 more parts (one of which may or may not be an epilogue from ellie’s pov). as always thanks for reading!

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4.0 (first half of this part)

playlist inspired by exoplanet!!

wc: 6.5k

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower

enjoy x

Dina’s sudden reappearance in your life was turning into one of the best things you had going on. When you were done with work, instead of loitering about Joel’s home and hoping to run into Ellie, you’d knock on Dina’s front door and spend your afternoons gossiping and trading stories.

She never asked so explicitly about Ellie again, but you could tell that occasionally she wanted to.

“Guess whose birthday it is this weekend?” asked Dina one day in late April. The Wyoming sun was hung high in the sky, and the weather was steadily becoming warmer. The temperature was stuck at a breezy 60, and a part of you wondered just how hot it would get over the summer.

Terranova rarely ever got over 70 degrees. Would it be hotter than that? Would you even be here to see it?

“Yours?” you guessed casually, pushing away the ever-present question of how long you’d really be in Jackson.

Dina snorted. “No. Not quite. You just missed mine, actually. I’m a December baby.”

“Jesse?”

“No.”

“Joel?”

“Nope.” Her mouth popped on the p.

Your heart thudded. “Uh—Ellie?”

Her face split into a wide grin. “Yes! It’s her 20th. Isn’t that crazy? She’s ancient.”

“Wow!” you said, coaxing faux enthusiasm into your voice.

You and her had kept seeing each other at night, long after Joel had turned in. It always proceeded like clockwork—she’d come knock at your door, you’d fall into her bed, and then you’d leave.

You’d thankfully avoided any of the embarrassing stuff that you’d done the second night—no more unnecessary sensual face touching and whispers of her being a good person. You wanted to, though. There was so much that you ached to tell her, so many words that threatened to spill from your lips that you just barely managed to keep at bay.

The worst part was the way that nothing had really changed between you two beyond what transpired every few evenings in her room. Each morning, you’d wake up knowing that you were in for another day of pretending like she didn’t know what it sounded like when you whined and begged and told her where to touch you. Like you didn’t know how her mouth tasted.

“I want to get her a present,” Dina was saying. “I do something for her every year, but I want this birthday to be a little different—given that she’s made it two decades and all, you know.”

“That’s really thoughtful of you.”

Dina’s eyes sparkled. “I know! Do you want to help? If you do, I’ll tell her it’s from you, too.”

“Actually,” you said, wheels in your head turning, “That would be amazing. I have no idea what I’d get her otherwise.”

“Great.” Dina leaned back, nabbing her backpack from the ground and fishing through it until she produced a map. She unfolded it and began gesturing over the marks. “I found an abandoned bookstore in this area outside of the wall.” She tapped on a dot that she’d made, situated a fair ways away from the wall and on the opposite side of the town as the dam.

“So we’re going shopping?”

Dina laughed. “Yeah. 5 finger discount, too. The only problem is that we might need to kill some baddies to qualify, but once we clear our way, it’s home free.”

“Right,” you said, fear creeping into your bones at the thought of having to fight off the infected. You’d only been on a few patrols since you’d been shot, and each had been totally unnoteworthy. You’d yet to actually shoot your gun at anything. “You—you do know that I’m not actually that good of a patrol partner, right?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Dina, waving her hand dismissively. “I can take care of us. Plus, we haven’t seen infected in this area for a while. This is a pretty remote area—tough to reach unless you know what you’re looking for.”

“So, when are we going?”

A glimmer appeared in her eye. “Now?”

“Where are you going?”

Ellie stood, her arms crossed as she leaned against the opposite wall. You were grabbing your patrol things, slinging your backpack over your shoulders and pulling on the gray sweatshirt she’d given you.

“Out with Dina,” you said, slightly breathless from moving so quickly. You hadn’t been expecting Ellie to be home—normally she was keeping herself busy picking up extra patrol shifts and helping Joel. It had been an unwelcome surprise to run into her, sour faced and serious while you were trying to get ready.

“Out where?”

You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “Dina said she wanted to show me something.”

She was silent as you finished lacing up your shoes, but you could see her watching you from the corner of your eyes.

“I’ll be back in time for tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you offered snidely, hardly realizing what you’d said until it had left your lips. It had been a low blow. It had been nasty. You weren’t sure why you’d said it.

“That’s not—” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” You stood up, feeling deflated. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.”

Ellie sent you a tight smile. “It’s fine.”

You walked back to Dina’s feeling heavy. That was how most of your interactions with Ellie seemed to go nowadays—awkward, stiff, and remarkably unfriendly. You weren’t sure what changed. And she was still fucking you, which didn’t make much sense.

Sometimes it felt like she was distancing herself on purpose. But that had to be wrong, because why would she do that? You obviously liked her. She wasn’t the one at risk of being hurt.

You and Dina took off by foot as the sun began to set, well-armed with both weapons and navigational equipment. Well—Dina was, at least. All you had was the small gun Ellie had given you. Dina was doing all of the heavy lifting.

The forest was quiet, interrupted only occasionally by songbirds and the sound of wind rustling through the leaves. Spring had hit Jackson suddenly, the underbrush exploding in volume and flowers blooming everywhere.

As you two walked through the woods, chattering mindlessly and generally enjoying each other’s company, you made a mental reminder to return to the forest to pick up a makeshift bouquet of flowers. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to swoon over things like that, but even the most unromantic people could recognize the gesture of flowers. You were sure she’d at least put them in a vase.

Eventually the path Dina was leading you on opened up to a heavily overgrown street, a small decrepit strip mall hidden away in the shrubbery.

“Here!” said Dina cheerily. She jogged forward, scrubbing the moss off of the door to show a book icon on the filthy glass.

“And you said that there’s no infected here?” you asked, your fingers wrapped nervously around your gun.

“Of course I did,” said Dina. “Do you think I’d take you somewhere that was infested?”

The glass shattered as a body came crashing through the door, thrashing and clicking in a mass of bloody limbs as it took Dina to the ground.

Your finger squeezed the trigger before you could think, sending a spray of gore into the air as Dina forced the thing off of her and stood, panting.

There wasn’t even a chance to breathe. A piercing shriek cut through the air before three more followed the first, not paying any mind to the jagged edges of the broken door that grabbed at their mutilated skin.

“Fuck!” Dina’s knife went swinging through the air, slicing and jabbing at the creatures in front of you. They fell in quick succession, but there was more rustling and screaming from inside. Far too much rustling. “Run!”

She didn’t have to tell you twice. Despite the fact that you’d never been a track star in school, you bolted quicker than you’d even known possible. Your backpack banged against your back as you sprinted down the road, ducking into the brush and making a break for it with Dina right on your tail.

The walk there had taken close to 30 minutes. Your sprint cut that in over half. You and Dina ran in stride, with her lagging behind to send off a few shots to ground the runners that were quick enough to keep up. The clearing you appeared in all the way back in the winter flashed by you in a second, and within another few moments, you were both resting against the wall, chests heaving as you both picked off the stragglers that had come out of the forest to investigate.

By the time the last gunshot rang out and the final infected slumped to the ground, you were shaking uncontrollably, your gun vibrating in your hand.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” said Dina, equally breathless though significantly more composed as you two walked through the entrance, getting concerned looks from the people who were manning the gate. “I’ve never seen so many in that store before. I don’t understand. It was clear the last time I went.”

Before you could respond, someone stepped into your eye line.

“What the fuck did you do,” seethed Ellie. Her eyes were wild, her lip curled in a manner so derisive you began to wonder if you’d ever actually seen her angry before this.

“Chill, Ellie,” said Dina. “Y/N and I were just going to try and pick something up for your birthday. There were…a few more than what I was expecting. But it’s fine. We handled them. She did great.”

Ellie looked at you then, and you could feel her taking you in. Her eyes rested with accusation at the way that your hands were trembling. “You’re so fucking stupid, Dina. You knew that she’s never done this before. What the fuck is wrong with you, taking her out like that?”

“It was clear the last time I was there!” Dina spoke with her hands, waving them through the air in emphasis.“There wasn’t supposed to be any. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t purposefully try to get us killed.”

Ellie sent her another scathing look before turning her attention to you. “And don’t even get me started with you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she snapped.

Dina sent you a wink and disappeared down the street in the direction of her house.

“I was thinking of your birthday, actually,” you said delicately. “We were going to get you something from the bookstore.”

“That is not an excuse to go get yourself killed!”

You held up your hands in mock surrender, which looked really stupid considering how hard you were still trembling. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the original plan. Can we not do this right now? I’m still trying to, uh, process what happened.”

As if to punctuate your point, the next step you took nearly sent you to the ground, your knees wobbling.

Ellie’s hands were at your sides in an instant, solid and steadying against you as you regained your balance.

“Sorry,” you said again, lower this time.

“How many?” Ellie asked. Her voice was softer now, almost resigned. She hadn’t let go yet.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “After the first three or four, I lost count. They just kept—” You winced at the memory of the wet sound that they made hitting the ground. “They just kept coming.”

“You did them a favor,” said Ellie, stepping back and to your side as you began to walk forward. Her hand stayed posed on your forearm. “It gets easier.”

“I don’t know if I want it to get easier,” you confessed.

“Well, how about you start by never doing something that fucking stupid again.” Her words lacked any venom. “Don’t you ever go out without me again, okay? Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”

You gave your trembling hands a look. “I can take a guess.”

Ellie walked you back to Joel’s house, helping you out of your jacket and unsubtly checking your skin for bites. Or at least that’s what she said she was doing. She couldn’t seem to stop touching you.

You headed back up to your room to get changed as Ellie shut the front door and was off to finish her work with Tommy. As you leisurely made your way down the hallway, you noticed that something was off—the hallway closet was slightly ajar.

The memories of your first night there came floating back to you, images of Ellie shutting the door before you could see inside emerging to the forefront.

It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it? It was probably nothing.

Your hand wrapped tentatively around the handle, pulling the door open so slowly that the old, rusty hinge fell silent.

It wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t what you were expecting at all.

It wasn’t really a closet—there were a few shelves, but no hangers. In their place, there were stacks of textbooks with old, dated covers of the stars, planets, and physics. The back wall was plastered with drawings of constellations and calculations in Ellie’s messy scrawl, reminiscent of the leftover scrap paper from when you sat your physics exams and did your problem sets.

The memory of Ellie staring at your textbook re-emerged to hit you with full force. No wonder she was interested in it. THIS is what she was going to say that she wanted to study when you’d asked her.

A slow smile crept onto your face as you thought about her upcoming birthday.

You knew what you were getting her now.

Preparing for Ellie’s surprise party was a full day’s worth of work. You and Dina had convinced Maria to give Ellie enough things to do that she’d stay out of the house for the majority of the afternoon. You felt kind of guilty that Ellie was being put to work on her birthday of all days, but Dina just shook her head.

“It’s Ellie,” she said. “She lives to act all macho and patrol and shit. This is probably an extra present to her.”

You two had located some flour, sugar, eggs, and butter and were hard at work baking a cake. It was tough going without a real recipe, but you’d grown up with a mother who loved baking, so you tried to do it from memory.

The result was a rather lopsided looking monstrosity that you and Dina had attempted to salvage through the liberal application of the thin icing you’d managed to whip up using milk and powdered sugar. It didn’t work, and you two didn’t wait long enough for the cake to cool before frosting it, so it melted in puddles and made the cake soggy.

“Fantastic work,” said Dina, wiping her hands on her front as you two surveyed the final product. “Really incredible, Y/N. You should really consider a career change.”

“Shut up,” you said, snorting. “Ellie’s gonna hate this.”

“She’s going to think it’s hilarious,” Dina corrected. “I’m sure it can’t taste too bad, right?”

You shivered. “Don’t say that.”

The decorations and gathering of presents were thankfully an easier challenge, and before you knew it Joel’s living room was fixed up to look obnoxious as possible, with a tacky “HAPP BIRTHDAE ELLIE” strung up in blood red reflective plastic (you two couldn’t find any Ys) above the fireplace. “Happy 5th Birthday!” balloons filled the ceiling, their gaudy purple color clashing horrifically with the red of the lettering.

“This is just awful, Dina,” you said. “Ellie’s never going to speak to us again.”

“You need to chill,” Dina responded. “She might act grumpy all of the time, but I know her, and I know she’ll secretly like this.”

7 rolled around quickly, and with it came the guests.

First was the unsurprising Jesse, grinning and carrying a satchel that had a makeshift card attached to the top labeled “Ellie”.

Next came Astrid, Bonnie, and Greg—all of the patrolmen that were roughly around your age. You hadn’t spent all that much time with them, but they’d always been fun.

Last came a girl you’d never seen before.

“Hi!” she said, extending a hand and looking at you through a fringe of choppy black hair.

“Hi!” you said, taking her hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I’m Cat.”

“I can’t believe you two haven’t met before,” said Dina, swooping in to stand beside you. There was something written on her face—something that looked kind of like worry.

“I can’t either!” you said good-naturedly. “How do you know Ellie?”

Dina cringed.

Cat just smiled wider. “Oh. Ellie and I go way back.”

“Cat, why don’t you go help me in the kitchen? I need to finish plating some stuff,” said Dina.

“Sure!” Cat sent you one more winning smile, following Dina with a bounce in her step.

Something felt deeply off about that interaction, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. You’d never seen Dina so eager to get you away from someone. Maybe it’d just been a coincidence?

You didn’t get a chance to dwell on it further, because Ellie was opening the door.

“Surprise!” Everyone in the living room yelled upon seeing her.

Ellie blanched, her eyes landing on you for a moment before she cast her gaze to the rest of the room. “What’s this?”

“Your birthday party,” said Dina, appearing from the kitchen with a plate of crackers and other appetizers, Cat in tow. “You didn’t think we were just going to let you turn 20 without embarrassing you just a little bit?”

“Those are the most hideous balloons I’ve ever seen,” said Ellie, crossing her arms.

“Thanks,” you said, beaming. “I picked them out myself.”

Much to your surprise, her lips lifted until she was smiling back. “You’re such a loser.”

“Okay!” said Dina, clearing her throat and stepping in between you two. “You two can flirt later. I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for an entire day. Let’s eat.”

You shut your mouth, blushing uncontrollably as your eyes lifted. Ellie’s cheeks looked uncharacteristically pink and her eyes were fixed on your shoes.

Dinner went by quickly, with everyone trading odd stories about patrolling and their life before Jackson. You learned that Dina had actually been born in New Mexico and that Astrid was from Oregon. You heard all about how Jesse and Greg came across an old mall a few miles out of Jackson that was so full of infected that they could hear them scratching at the doors and clicking even before they were within eyesight of the building. You told some stories about your life in Terranova, about studying and your family.

“What the fuck is this?” asked Ellie once Dina had reappeared, carrying your sorry excuse of a birthday cake. Time had not treated it well. The first layer was almost entirely slid off, and the cake looked damp from the melted icing.

“It’s your birthday cake,” you said. “We, uh, tried. I don’t have a cake recipe memorized, and it was harder than I expected.”

The candles Dina attempted to stick into the cake kept falling out, the structural integrity so weakened from the melted frosting that chunks were coming off.

“Let’s just pretend that there’s 20 candles,” said Dina finally once the top layer of the cake finally split in half.

“Right,” said Ellie, snorting.

Dina led a very enthusiastic rendition of the Happy Birthday song that ended in cheers and hollers as Ellie dramatically lowered her head to the cake and pretended to blow the “candles” out.

No one touched the cake, but you couldn’t blame them.

Next came presents. Jesse went first, giving Ellie a satchel that held a bunch of cleaning equipment for her patrol rifles. Dina had found a t-shirt that said “Enemy of the State” in goofy comic sans lettering, and Ellie was unsuccessful in holding back her giggles at seeing it.

“Dina, this is so stupid,” she said, but there was no venom in her tone, just amusement.

It was your turn next, so you leaned across the table to place the small box in front of her.

“Please tell me you didn’t almost die getting this one,” said Ellie, giving you a suspicious look.

“Not at all,” you said. “I accidentally brought it from Terranova.”

Her nimble fingers untied the flimsy ribbon you’d haphazardly wrapped around the tiny brown box, lifting the lid off and peering inside.

“It’s a…rock?” Ellie frowned, pulling it out and holding it in her hand.

“You got her a rock for her birthday?” Cat asked you from her position to your right, her eyebrows raised.

“It’s not just a rock,” you said. “It’s a moon rock. Like, from the moon.”

Ellie froze, her eyes saucers as she stared at the rock balanced in her palm. “What?”

“I told you I studied astrophysics,” you said casually. “One of my professors let me borrow it because my research supervisor wanted to take a look at it, so it was in my bag. And I never had the chance to give it to him, obviously. So it’s yours now.”

“Holy fuck.” She turned in over, her fingers running across the surface. “This is…wow. Oh my god.”

“That’s so cool, dude,” Jesse said. “Like, insane. I didn’t even know that those were a thing.”

“There’s only a couple in the world,” you added. “And even fewer that are still reachable. The rest are…well, out here somewhere. Terranova only has a few from our own expeditions and the professors who managed to grab what they had when they moved.”

“This one’s from me,” said Cat, leaning forward and placing an envelope in front of Ellie. “It’s not as cool as a moon rock, but I thought you’d like it.”

Her fingers slid under the tongue of the envelope, ripping it open and pulling a piece of paper out.

“Good for one more free tattoo,” Ellie read out.

Cat sat back, looking awfully pleased with herself.

“Cat was the one who gave Ellie the one on her arm,” Dina explained to you.

A memory pricked at your consciousness, dating back to your first patrol with Ellie.

An ex had given her the tattoo on her arm.

The girl who had given her tattoo was Cat.

Cat was her ex.

That makes so much sense you realized with horror as you remembered how Cat had told you so confidently that she and Ellie went way back. Of course they did. They used to date.

“Where’d you go?” asked Dina, bumping your shoulder.

“Sorry,” you said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Just, uh, tired.”

When you looked up, Ellie’s eyes were on you, her lips slightly quirked.

You looked away, instead focusing on the placemats that Dina had set out. Cat was so different from you—so peppy, so confident, so loud. No wonder Ellie didn’t want anything more than what you had now. Whatever Ellie had seen in Cat had nothing to do with you.

The night ended with you all sitting on the couches in the living room with Dina mixing drinks so strong that you were wondering if she was trying to kill you.

“Jesus Christ, Dina,” you said as you watched her pour. “What is that? 90 percent vodka?”

“I prefer to call it efficient,” Dina corrected.

It burned going down your throat and you fought back a cough as you placed your glass back on the coffee table. Ellie was right next to you, her thigh barely brushing against yours as you moved.

Cat was on the other side of the room, seated next to Jesse and Astrid. You were internally very proud that Ellie had chosen to sit next to you instead. Her arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, and even though it couldn’t have meant all that much, you couldn’t help but wonder if it at least meant something.

You were just halfway through your cup by the time you started to feel really and properly sloshed. Your voice sounded tinny in your ears, and from the way that Ellie was laughing at anything anyone said, you had a sneaking suspicion that she was somewhere around where you were.

It wasn’t long before everyone had excused themselves and wished Ellie a final happy birthday—it was getting late and quite a few had early shifts the next day.

Dina was the last to go, saying goodbye and sending you another look as she pointedly stared at the arm rested behind you.

For a few minutes, you and Ellie just sat in silence, hearing the fire crackle and the sound of her softly breathing.

Then she spoke.

“How did you know that I’d like the moon rock?”

“Oh.” You blushed. “Don’t be mad. You left the closet door open the other day—you know, the one with all your space textbooks and everything. It was an educated guess.”

“So nosy,” she tutted.

“But you do like the rock?”

She smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”

You reached forward and polished off the rest of the drink that Dina had made you, feeling the liquid fire slide down your throat and settle in your stomach.

When you turned back, you could see Ellie staring at you, her auburn hair glowing in the firelight, her pupils blown wide, and her eyes slightly unfocused. She’d had more than one of the drinks that Dina had made, and it was really showing.

“You’re so pretty.”

You froze. Out of all the things you expected her to say, that was nowhere on the list. The words had left Ellie’s lips like a compulsion, raw and honest.

She hadn’t stopped looking at you, but her eyes were wider, her cheeks red. She hadn’t meant to say it, you realized. Now she was embarrassed and flustered, and it was all because of you.

It was the boldness of being tipsy that made you move towards her, pulling your legs up until you were seated on your knees in front of her.

Ellie didn’t move apart from wetting her lips, her eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth.

When you kissed her, she melted into you. The arm that had been draped over the couch behind you dropped to your back, your own hands sliding into her hair and tightening at the back of her neck.

She gasped as she felt your nails scrape against her, and you took the opportunity to lick into her open mouth, tasting the vodka on her tongue as it slid against yours.

To your surprise, her hands didn’t creep up your shirt or dip below the waist of your pants. They stayed static, one glommed onto your back while the other clutched your jaw as she let you kiss her, over and over again.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something about it that felt different than your usual nighttime meetups. It felt more—vulnerable, almost, that Ellie was kissing you just to kiss you, not with some other agenda.

The grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was almost midnight. You pulled away from her for a second, panting as you caught your breath. A string of saliva suspended between your lips, snapping as you waved a hand through it and flushed.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

She just smiled.

“Is Joel going to be back soon?”

As if to punctuate your point, the front door banged open, the man in question pulling his jacket off and turning to see you both. You’d thankfully managed to get off her lap before he saw.

“Oh!” he said, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “I wasn’t expecting you two to still be awake.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Ellie, scratching the back of her neck. “We’ve just been…talking.”

“Good party?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad. Tommy and Maria wish you a happy birthday, by the way. Though I’m sure you knew that.”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Well,” said Joel, giving a sigh that only old men could recreate, “I’m off to bed. You two don’t stay up too late, huh? You’ve still got work tomorrow.”

“Goodnight,” you two chorused.

Once Joel had disappeared into his room, you turned to look at her.

“That was close.”

“Yeah.” Ellie laughed nervously, picking at her cuticles. “Um—do you want to move somewhere else?”

Something deep in your chest ached. Sure, you’d be okay with spending another hour or so feeling her hands on you as she made you finish, but a part of you had really liked just touching her for the sake of touching her—kissing her just because you could.

“Sure,” you said. “Just give me a chance to change.”

When you knocked after switching into more comfortable clothes, the door swung open to reveal a significantly more nervous looking Ellie than you’d seen in a while.

“Hi,” you said shyly.

“Hi.”

You stepped into her, pressing a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she didn’t react, you pulled back.

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to stay over?” Ellie blurted out, her eyes wide and afraid.

You balked. “Uh, what?”

“You don’t have to,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know we’re not like that. I just thought that—maybe, I dunno, just this once—”

“Yes,” you interrupted. “Please. I’d really like that.”

“Right. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath, then laced her fingers through yours to lead you to her bed.

When your mouth found hers again, it was just like on the couch—no intentionally rough or overtly sexual touches, just gentle brushes against your skin and the weight of fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you further into her.

For the first time since you confessed, you didn’t sleep together. When you two finally tired out, you flopping down on the pillow first, Ellie’s head came to rest on the expanse of skin between your shoulder and your neck, your arms coming around her.

It was strange. For someone so deadly and tough, Ellie suddenly looked so small and fragile curled against you, the rise and fall of her chest synchronized with your breathing.

“I’m sorry Cat was invited,” Ellie said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into your neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I should have told you what her name was. That must’ve been a nasty surprise.”

Her foresight and understanding made your heart ache, deeply. How was it that she could say all these things but not want anything more with you?

“It was alright,” you said. There was no conviction in your tone. “I wouldn’t have expected you to tell me.”

Ellie was silent for a few beats. You knew she was thinking, though; you could feel the flutter of her lashes against you as she blinked.

“How long do you think it’ll take for you to forget me?”

You paused. “What? What do you mean?”

Ellie shifted against you, one of her arms draped over your chest. “I mean, when you go back.”

“Ellie,” you chided, bringing your hand up so you could run your fingers through her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d ever just leave you behind. If I go back there, I’m finding some way to bring you with me. So, no. That’s not even a valid question. I’m never forgetting you.”

In truth, you hadn’t even begun to consider what you’d do if—when—you were found. You’d been so focused on trying to fit into your new life here that your past had largely just faded into the back, shrinking in the horizon. What you did know, at least, was that even in some dystopian future without Ellie, she’d never be off of your mind.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“I’m not,” you replied, tapping her shoulder. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me.”

Her diaphragm vibrated as she let out a short laugh. “Oh, the horrors.”

She fell silent as you kept threading your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scrape against her scalp. The hand that wasn’t draped over your chest had crept up, her thumb rubbing back and forth as she traced the outline of your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I can be such a sad drunk sometimes. It’s pathetic.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, your other hand lightly dancing up and down her back. “I think it’s sweet.”

She snorted. “You would.”

Then, after a few more seconds of silence: “You really weren’t jealous?”

“I never said that.”

“So she did make you jealous?”

You flicked her shoulder. “Fuck off. Of course she did. Happy?”

“Thrilled.”

A few moments later, she spoke up again.

“Can you promise me something?” Her voice was deceptively casual.

“Anything.” You’d give her anything she wanted.

“Promise me that you’ll take the first opportunity to go home,” she said softly. “Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll take the first opportunity to go home as long as I get to have you around, too.”

You couldn’t see it, but you knew she was rolling her eyes. “Not good enough.”

“You want me to leave that badly?” You weren’t sure if you should be hurt.

“Of course not,” she responded. “I just...I don’t expect you to wait around here for me. I don’t want you to. I want you to be safe.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“Will you just—fucking—say you’ll go?” Her voice sounded raw, tired.

“Fine,” you said. “I promise.”

Your words were empty. You couldn’t promise her that. She had to know that. But would it matter? If you never had to make that choice?

In retrospect, you weren’t sure when you drifted off. All you remembered was the warmth of Ellie gathered up in your arms, her measured breath blowing across your exposed neck as you felt the slow, marching rhythm of her heart.

When you awoke to the early morning sunbeams streaming in through the window and warming your face, Ellie was passed out cold on top of you. A few unruly strands of her auburn hair had ruffled upwards overnight, sticking to your cheek and threatening the seams of your lips.

You’d never been happier.

As you thought, running your hand gently up and down the length of her spine, Ellie’s breath hitched.

You froze, thinking you must have woken her.

Then she made a quiet snort. She took another deep breath in, whistling as it went. Her next exhale was louder and caught in her nose.

You did your best not to laugh enough to wake her.

Ellie snored, even though she wasn’t that loud. The part of you that was still intimidated by her was shrinking by the minute. If only you had known in the beginning that after a long day of bullying you she went back to her room to honk shoo the night away, you never would’ve let it bother you.

She jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she pulled away and looked up at you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” she said groggily. “It’s—” She twisted in your arms, squinting at her desk. “It’s 6 in the fucking morning. Shut up.” With that, she flopped back down on top of you, laying one arm over your torso so she could shove it the space under the pillow beside your head.

“You shut up,” you heard yourself say.

Ellie smacked your shoulder, not even bothering to lift her head.

“You snore,” you said, quieter this time.

“I don’t.”

“You literally do. I was there when it happened.”

She was silent for a few moments. “Really?”

You pressed your lips to her forehead instead as you trembled from the laugh you were doing your best to rein in.

“Oh, god,” groaned Ellie. “That’s so embarrassing.”

“I thought it was cute.”

“You think everything I do is cute.”

“And what about it?”

You settled back in, wrapping your arms around Ellie as you tried to drift back off.

“Do you hear that?”

Her voice was whispered.

“Hear what?”

“That sound.”

You let go of her and sat up, your eyes unfocused as you tried your best to tune into whatever Ellie was talking about. Out of the corner of your vision you could see her staring at you with big, nervous eyes.

It took you a moment to notice it. No one could blame you, really. It was hardly a rarity to hear the sound of a plane when you grew up in Terranova.

“That’s a plane, Ellie,” you said, reaching out to cup her face. “It’s fine.”

“A plane?” She frowned, still blinking bleariness out of her eyes. “I’ve never heard one before. Joel told me that they stopped being used after the government officially fell.”

“That’s not true,” you corrected. “There’s some in—”

A puzzle piece clicked into place, and with it came a sense of underlying dread. But you shouldn’t be dreading it. It’s what you were hoping for after all, weren’t you? What you’d been praying for since you’d arrived?

“Let’s go outside and look,” you said, nudging her side. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You were hoping it was nothing.

Ellie followed you, pulling a throw blanket from her bed and draping it around her shoulders like a cape. She looked so cute like that. You wanted to bite her. Not, like, in a weird blood kink way. Just in a…you didn’t know how to describe it. Better leave it there.

A lump formed in your throat.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this had nothing to do with you.

The air was tepid and pleasant against your bare skin as you two quietly opened the front door and crept onto the porch. The town was quiet. No one was awake at this hour, not unless they were down by the stables or doing night watch.

There was a sliver of pink and orange hanging over the tops of the mountains, no doubt remnants of what had been a spectacular sunrise. There were still snowy caps on the highest peaks. You hadn’t known that mountains could stay so cold for so long until you’d come to Jackson.

The lump in your throat grew larger.

“Shit,” said Ellie, leaping down from the porch and onto the road. “Do you see this?”

The plane was no longer in sight, but the swirling papers that hadn’t been on the road the night before were left as evidence.

“They must’ve dropped them,” said Ellie excitedly, snatching one from the ground and bounding back up the steps so she was next to you. “What do you think this says?”

You smiled sadly. “Why don’t you read it?”

She unfolded the envelope, ripping open the top and dumping the contents out in her hand.

“Oh.”

It was a picture of you. It’d been taken months prior at your family’s Christmas party. You’d worn glittery silver eyeliner and curled your hair. The upper half of your body was in view, clad in a rich red fabric that landed right below your collarbones. A string of creamy white pearls were clasped around your neck, matching the teardrop pearls that hung delicately from your ears.

HAVE YOU SEEN HER?

There was no other text, but you did notice a divet at the top right corner in the shape of a small oval.

Terranovan security. Of course.

Wordlessly, you pressed your thumb into the mold, holding it there for a second as the parchment recorded your print.

Then a paragraph formed at the bottom, ink slowly leaking into the paper.

COME TO THE COORDINATES LISTED BELOW AT EXACTLY NOON, MAY 15TH. A LIFT WILL BE WAITING TO ESCORT YOU.

You’d been found.

final a/n: sorry not sorry this was the original cliffhanger that i was planning for part 4 all along. you guys are incredible for still sticking around and reading even though this is getting lengthy as hell. anyway i hope you guys enjoyed this sort of different side of ellie before we reach the final act. the plot is abt to reach its peak and i’m hellaaa excited to share it with you. okok let me know what you think! it might take me around the same time it took me to finish part 4 to get part 5 out considering how sick i am/how much i have on my plate, but i promise it’s coming :))

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams self insert #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x oc

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basichextechml · 1 year

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Wednesday Addams/Fem!Reader

Rating: Teen // 4.7K words // Reader uses she/her pronouns, no looks are described, rated teen bc the jokes are morbid and somewhat graphic, reader is a shapeshifter, reader is a touch insecure but don’t worry guys it’s good I swear, I’m sick w covid rn so if you spot a mistake no you don’t (but actually tell me pls), there’s a playlist at the end of this fic pls check it out love you guys <3

A chain reaction is set off when Wednesday realizes she’s not actually talking to her roommate

Pt. 2

---

Wednesday wasn’t talking to Enid right now.

Sure Enid was in front of her, sitting on her bed, in their room, wearing her clothes, and her face- but it had, embarrassingly, taken Wednesday five whole minutes to realize it wasn’t Enid. Her hairline was off, her smile was a bit too big, and her eyeliner wasn’t done with its normal flicked technique. What cracked the bell, however, was the fact that her nails were a different color. Wednesday normally couldn’t care less, but her roommate had been trying to find the perfect shade of green for her nails for the past month and had only repainted them this morning, blabbering on and on about it. A fact that made Wednesday want to open the large decorative window, and fling herself out of it.

But her nails weren’t green. They were blue with pink polka dots. The same pattern she had last week.

“You’re a pretty convincing fake,” Wednesday bit, and faux-Enid paused mid-sentence.

You’d been caught.

Wednesday continues, tilting her head down to glare at you through her lashes. Other than those minute details- you really could be Enid. Or, at least, someone lesser than her would believe so. “Who are you, and why have you chosen to impersonate my roommate?”

Faux-Enid sighed, before sticking on her house slippers and stepping towards Wednesday, holding out a hand. After a moment of consideration, Wednesday took it firmly in hers and shook it twice. You clicked your tongue in satisfaction- a decidedly un-Enid thing for you to do. Wednesday never thought she’d see the uncanny implications of someone wearing another’s face so nonchalantly in person.

“(Y/n),” You said, brows pitching up as you finally looked around freely, “I just wanted to see the great Wednesday Addams that everyone’s been whispering about.”

“Whispering is for wakes, I prefer it that way, everyone’s been too loud since I’ve arrived.”

You understood now why everyone was talking- well, maybe for different reasons. They were concerned about the attempted murder charges. You were wondering how someone could be so pretty. She was entirely ignoring you as well, a bold move considering you were a stranger, and you had impersonated her roommate and snuck into her dorm.

Hm. That made you sound like a creep.

Oh well.

The newly occupied side of the room was sparsely decorated- a far cry from Enid’s colorful and cluttered abode. You couldn’t say it was bad, though, everything was organized, in its rightful place- and delightfully macabre, accentuating the architecture that encased it. Her bedsheets had hospital corners. Taking care not to touch anything, you glanced over the few trinkets she had, lingering on the heavy typewriter with a fresh piece of paper stuck inside its hold.

As you take a step closer to her, she takes one back.

You rescind your previous step, putting twice the space between you- and you catch a downward twitch in her brow.

“A murder mystery?” You ask, looking her in the eye. Wednesday isn’t entirely sure you’re asking about her book, even though it is the topic of discussion.

Wednesday found herself asking a question without thinking. “How could you tell?”

You turn your back on her, this time. A dangerous decision, she decides, because she can see your neck from here. “Instinct, maybe?” You tease, turning back momentarily to wink. Wednesday’s lips purse tight, perturbed at those words coming from what seems to be Enid’s mouth.

“If you’re going to act in such a way, I’d be much obliged if you stopped mimicking my roommate.” Her skin prickled as you sighed, rocking back on your feet as if contemplating her words.

And then you begin to change, right in front of Wednesday’s eyes.

Wednesday’s ever-present morbid curiosity waits for the cracking of bone or stretching of skin- reminiscent of other transformations she’d bore witness to. This was nothing of the sort- it was smooth. Too smooth. Like a hot knife through the doughy fat of a thigh. It’s disturbing as you take on a new shape, and she can’t blink, because she’ll miss it.

Or maybe she won’t? How can she miss it when the familiar face staring back at her is her?

You trot along to Enid’s mirror, fixing your newfound fringe and admiring how Wednesday’s face looks on you. She had dark brown- nearly black eyes, and a smattering of freckles over her soft skin. Her eyelashes are long, too, wisping against her brows and the apples of her cheeks, almost like a doll. “You really are pretty, Wednesday. Great cheekbones,” She sees the way your eyes look down at her lips in the mirror. “Nice-”

“If you finish that train of thought they’ll find you at the bottom of the lake hog-tied with lead in your pockets.”

You smile at her- and that’s how others would be able to tell you both apart because the muscles responsible for completing such an expression had died in her face long ago. It was like an out-of-body experience, or a successful trial after her many failed attempts at lucid dreaming. It made her feel something- something she couldn’t put a finger on- something she might not like.

She wants to end this.

But then you’d leave.

She wants you to leave.

Right?

It may be too difficult to say no to her own face.

You can see the twitch next to her lip, and know that maybe you’ve pushed the new girl too far- and thus, you borrow Enid again. “Don’t worry, Wednesday,” the way you say her name sends chills up her spine, like hypothermia setting in. It’s different from the way Enid would say it, like you’re pitching her voice differently, making it your own. “I won’t borrow your face if you don’t want me to.”

And just as you make peace with plunging Wednesday into the ice-cold uncharted waters of discomposure, the door jiggles and swings open. Enid- the real one- stands in the doorway with shopping bags on her arm, ones that she nearly drops as she squeals over your presence.

Wednesday takes a step back as the blonde entirely overtakes you, and she’s sure she’ll go blind from the embarrassingly emotional spectacle you both make. Clamoring and chattering as you discuss something undoubtedly trivial. Enid doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve borrowed her complexion. Wednesday doesn’t understand it. Maybe she doesn’t want you to leave. She feels her fingers twitch in the urge to lay you down and cut you open. Shapeshifters must have malleable cells, right? To aid in the transformation process? She wants to see what it would look like under a microscope.

As if sensing her murderous intent, maybe you can see it in her eyes, you turn to her, a sly little smile. “It was lovely meeting you Wednesday. I’d love to hear more about your novel next time we chat.”

The next time.

How bold.

---

When Enid posted on her blog about Nevermore gaining a new student and the scandal that would undoubtedly follow, you were hooked. The Addams were infamous at Nevermore, and now their oldest would be showing up midway through the quarter, tugging along attempted murder charges?

You were itching to meet her.

Heart practically beating out of your chest, you retreated from Enid and Wednesday’s dorm. Riveting. Absolutely riveting. Your fingers and toes were numb in excitement at the prospect of the rest of the quarter. Who knew a flash of braids and a homicidal edge was what this school so desperately needed?

---

“I’m assuming you know her?” Wednesday asked, not bothering to look at her roommate as she pulled out her desk chair and began setting up her typewriter.

“Oh, (Y/n)? Yeah of course! We’re like, besties!” Wednesday fought the urge to roll her eyes at Enid’s terminology. “I was wondering when she was gonna come around- when I told her you were coming to Nevermore she totally freaked.” Enid clipped her bangs back, getting ready for her nightly skin routine. “I can’t believe it took her, like, what, a week? to come say hi.”

Wednesday hummed, barely hearing the words over the clacking of her typewriter keys, her brows furrowed in thought. Enid grabbed her caddy of soaps and prepared to head off into the bathroom. “I feel like you’ll be great friends. Ooooh, we should totally do, like, a group sleepover! I’ll be right back, think about it, okay?”

The front door slammed shut behind Enid, and Wednesday grumbled, pulling out the used sheet of paper from her typewriter and crumpling it up. Thing looked up from his place on Wednesday’s bed, shutting the magazine he’d been leafing through to see what was troubling her. Wordlessly, she fed another piece of paper into the paper table.

Perhaps Viper De La Muerte’s mystery would gain another character.

---

You come to her next as Xavier in their shared botanical sciences class, and she can tell right away based on the doodle you’re scratching into his desk. It’s quite awful. Horrendous, actually- technically speaking.

“Good morning Wednesday” You chirp, and that warbled tone is there again. Perhaps a side effect? Curiosity is creeping up on her in these spare meetings you both share, getting ready to strangle her in the best way

Wednesday sets down her bag, and sits precariously on her chair, eyeing the etched drawing on the desk. It’s a raven, and when it doesn’t pop out of the table at her, she’s sure of her conviction.

“(Y/n)” She states.

You let out an affronted gasp, eyes crinkling at the recognition, before propping your chin up on your hand. “How could you tell? Was it my magnetic personality?” Wednesday focuses on the way your, Xaviers, fingers tap and fidget against the desk like you think she won’t notice. “Perhaps our first encounter has captured your heart- and you’ve fallen for me?”

“I’d rather you watch me fall off a cliff.”

“Sounds like the perfect date idea, how about seven tomorrow night?”

You watch in excitement as her brows tick up a hairline of an inch and the way her cheeks look a little less dead. She most likely wasn’t used to someone receiving her sardonic personality with open arms.

In place of answering, she chooses to counter it with another question. “Why are you impersonating Xavier?”

Dramatically, you pull out a notebook. Not a sketchbook. A real notebook. And begin to take dutiful notes. Another way she would’ve been able to tell the difference between you and Xavier. “If someone doesn’t want to go to class, for whatever reason, they normally pay me to come and make sure they don’t miss an attendance credit, take a test, get homework-”

“Cheat?”

“If that’s what you’d like to call it, then yeah, cheat,” You shrug, “It makes me good money, and I get to keep the grade curve up. I’m sure you could appreciate that.” Your pencil nudges against hers, tapping against her meticulous notes.

She’s not sure where to take this conversation, and that weird feeling is back. Normally, she’s itching to leave a conversation. Any conversation. Maybe it’s the fact that while she’s talking to Xavier, she’s also talking to you. There’s nothing to put to your voice yet, even when it’s masked and warbled by another.

Wednesday is talking to someone, and she doesn’t really know who. The concept is eldritchtian in nature, that she could look over and not understand something that was right in front of her face. There’s no control. A masterful side eye keeps watch on you throughout the period. If she can’t put a face to a name, she could at least tack onto mannerism. Maybe then she could control that feeling in her gut.

You liked keeping your hands above the desk and busy. You’d fidget with them often, picking at your nails. Your nose would involuntarily twitch whenever Thornhill pulled out a particularly foul-smelling plant. But was that you or Xavier? Wednesday’s pen taps the edge of her paper, leaving ink blots in the margins. She could argue that it’s you- at the end of the day it’s your brain, but another part says you could be subconsciously mimicking the mannerisms of whoever you’re impersonating. You’re a puzzle with one too many edge pieces that she’s trying to make fit.

She’s adorable- thinking that you don’t notice she’s watching you. The thing about being different, for good or bad reasons, is that you can feel when someone’s trying to understand you. How their eyes linger. Maybe it’s masochism that runs your brain because you feel good gaining her attention- no matter how depraved it was.

The game of ignoring and noticing each other continued throughout the period, like a dance you had practiced, making sure not to step on each other’s toes. You wondered if she was curious enough to ask now. You wanted her to ask. To be curious enough to suggest meeting up. To know you better. From what Enid had spilled about her, Wednesday was confident- and unpredictable. The ball was never in your court because she was never even playing her game with you, just hitting it against the wall by your head and waiting for you to flinch.

You’d flinch if she wanted.

Miss Thornhill wrapped up the end of class, the volume of the room slowly rising as kids began to talk about their upcoming plans for the weekend. You watched slyly as Wednesday packed up, flipping your notebook closed to give back to Xavier.

“My room, tonight after dinner,” Wednesday murmured firmly, and your smile pulled taught, an ache in your cheeks. But your victory was short-lived, the lips you’d admired in the mirror spelling your crash.

“Don’t come as anyone.”

---

You were stupid to have not thought this far.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Getting so caught up in just trying to capture her attention, you didn’t even know what you were going to do if you got it. You thought it would take a couple more tries to get her fully into the idea of being around you- but you had underestimated Enid’s words.

Wednesday knew what she wanted quickly, and she expected to get it.

It would be hot if you weren’t mentally freaking out.

She said to meet her after dinner, but that didn’t specify a certain time, right? Hypothetically, you could show up whenever. You could say you had a late dinner- but you know that wasn’t what she met. She’d already be upset at you for disregarding her last request, you couldn’t be late on top of that.

As you walked through the hallowed halls of Nevermore Academy, you people-watched. There were so many interesting students here. No matter their disposition, they had rich lives that would no doubt continue on and only grow more complex. Intriguing powers that had so many quirks and kickbacks that you could only imagine what it felt like to have them come naturally to you. There were so many compelling people here- so why would you want to be you when you could pretend to be them?

Shifting from foot to foot, you knocked on the door. Well, Bianca technically knocked on the door, but it was still just you. Enid answers, looking somewhat taken aback before realization dawns on her. “(Y/n)- come on in! I was just about to go meet Ajax, so it’ll just be you and Wednesday.” The way she says it sounds like she’s hinting something, looking at you with wide eyes and a mischievous little smile.

‘Subtle’ You mouth to her, nodding your head. Enid does a bashful curtsey, before grabbing her keys. She makes sure it’s loud as she locks the door behind her.

And then it’s two.

Wednesday looks positively deadly cut against the low light of the iconic Ophelia Hall window. The way she glares through you emphasizes her distaste for your actions.

“I see you’ve decided on Bianca today. Odd, considering I asked for you.” You’re nearly prepared to say something, mustering up enough thought to figure out what she’d even want to hear, but it’s her who steps closer. And closer. And closer.

She’s in your space now, looking up ever so slightly at you. “Take it off.”

“You could at least buy me dinner first,” You stumble out, voice not nearly as confident as it had to be for that line.

Wednesday only tilts her head, coy as can be, with a brow slightly raised. “I thought you liked my unconventional… date ideas.”

You muffled a laugh, “I didn’t even get the first one. I was looking forward to seeing the rocks together-”

Wednesday wondered if you do it- if you’d teeter into the violence of her earlier statements.

“-If you’d jump, and if you did, how you’d hit them. Maybe, what it would look like when I followed after you.”

You’d been lured into her trap. And by the way, Wednesday could feel the corners of her mouth twitching up, she’d been ensnared in yours. But she couldn’t let you win so easily. She couldn’t find herself letting you do it. Turning away, she marched to her desk, pulling out a thin, monogrammed book, and a pen. “I believe I made that commitment to (Y/n), not Bianca.”

Frozen to the floorboards, you stare wide-eyed, having been put right back into the one spot you didn’t want to be. Wednesday could hear the hitch in your breath, matching it with her own to see how long it would take you to breathe again. The satisfying ache in her lungs proved that she had caught you off guard. “To make it up to me, you’ll be answering a few questions.” She points to her bed, telling you to sit.

Relief wasn’t the right word to describe your state. Abject happiness? Pure and unbridled repose? Perhaps disappointment- because you wouldn’t be meeting your demise to the cold, small hands of Wednesday Addams. Though, a thorough interrogation will take a close second.

There was a weird disconnect with the situation. You’d tell Wednesday anything she wanted to know. What you were, how you felt, your deepest fears, your middle name. But the idea of shedding whomever you had borrowed and bearing your face to the world terrified you. The idea that she could know everything about you and know nothing at the same time felt comfortable, but when Wednesday Addams was looking at you with a curious spark in her eyes, you felt it wasn’t the right choice at all.

Scurrying over to the bed, you hurriedly sat down- only to sit on something soft. Not in the springy way, a bed was soft, but in the way people were soft.

Wednesday watched in amusement as you yelped, jumping up quickly off of her bed. Thing angrily crawled his way out of the covers, obviously having been woken up from his after-dinner nap. Desperately, you apologized to Thing, seemingly unfazed by the fact that he was only a hand. She doubts he’s the weirdest thing you’ll see while you choose to associate with her. “Thing, this is (Y/n). (Y/n), Thing. Now stop apologizing.” Wednesday demands, grabbing Thing and carrying him over to Enid’s side of the room. Precariously, she tucks him in, before turning her back on him, leaving no room for argument. She pointed to the bed again. “You. Sit.” What were you meant to do? Say no? Perched on the side of the bed, you waited for her to begin her investigation a la (Y/n).

“You can become anything?” Wednesday started, writing along the printed lines of her notebook.

“Anything you want.” You tease.

“I want a real answer.”

“Anything I want, within reason,” You sigh, leaning back on your hands.

She stopped writing for a moment, looking over the edge of her book, “And what does that entail?”

“I can’t get too small,” You emphasize, making a small box with your hands and then gesturing to the rest of yourself, “Or else I feel cramped. And I can’t get too big, because then I’ll be stretched too thin, and everything’ll become unstable.” Wednesday narrows her eyes for a moment, hitting the nib of the pen against the paper before deciding what to write.

“What about width?”

“Oooh, that’s a good question- haven’t tried it? I guess? Not many things are wider than they are tall.”

Wednesday hums in thought, before grabbing her desk chair and propping it up in front of you, sitting down herself. Your knees were knocking together, the only thing separating your skin from hers being her uniform skirts. Bianca always liked to roll her skirt up a bit, so you did too. “Does it hurt?”

“Did what hurt? When I fell for you- Ow!”

You rubbed at the skin of your knee where she had stabbed you with her pen, the broken skin healing itself within the blink of an eye. You could feel her gaze watching it.

“We’re not doing that bit again. Your abilities seem to have a healing aspect.” She mumbles, furiously scribbling something down. You wondered what she was even writing. ‘Initial observation, healing aspect, eternal torture? Must review’. Yeah, no, okay.

“Not exactly, It’s sort of like healing- but also a bit more complex. When you heal, you make new cells, right?”

“Of course.”

“But what I just did wasn’t making new cells- it’s just the same cells remembering what was there, transforming into that, and then moving accordingly.” Tentatively, you grab her hand. It’s cold and rigid against yours, like a corpse, and you move it to the skin of your knee. You’d never be able to tell that there was a hole there in the first place. “Of course, I still produce new cells like everyone else, it’s just if I were to sustain a large injury- a lethal one, being a shapeshifter wouldn’t save me. My cells would transform and move, but that would only be tearing me open in a different way.”

There’s a smile on Wednesday’s face.

It’s small, barely even there, like an apparition, but you can see it.

Wednesday is enamored with you. Your skin was so warm. You were holding her hand so tightly. She had this disgusting, revolting feeling in her chest. One she wanted to keep there forever.

“So I couldn’t crack your ribs open and crawl inside of you?”

“If you had to keep warm, of course.”

You were so close.

Suddenly, she clapped her notebook shut, the chair screeching as she lurched out of it. Jolting, you leaned back a little, watching with wide eyes as she slammed the notebook into her desk drawer and shut it.

“We’re going to see the rocks tomorrow.” She demanded, reminiscent of when she asked you to come here. “And I do want you this time.”

Son of a bitch.

“I…” Your mouth felt dry. It was amazing how she managed to make you feel so comfortable while trapped. “I’ll think about it.” And within the next moment, you were a mouse scurrying across the floor boards, and ducking right beneath the door frame.

You didn’t stop running until you were down the stairs and in the main entrance hall- quickly changing back and collapsing against a wall.

A mouse? Did you become a fucking mouse?

Silently screaming into the hall, you hit your head against the ground, embarrassment flooding through your every nerve. Because what the fuck. You became a fucking mouse and you ran under the door.

You knew what you had to do.

You had to die.

Life was over at this point- there was no use continuing. Wednesday Addams had (sort of) asked you out, and like a complete and utter loser, you ran away. As a mouse.

---

You had been avoiding her.

It had been a week since Wednesday Addams had last seen you. And a single question loomed above them all.

Who did you think you were?

You barge into her room, responding to her threats and homicidal tendencies in kind, making her interested, sticking her neck out onto the guillotine. Making her want to hold and touch you. Hold your warm hands. Run her fingers over your skin. And you’re hiding from her?

To say she was positively murderous at this point was an understatement. Her rage was unconcealable. People avoided her in the halls, well, more so than before. Enid was neglecting to start conversations when they shared their dorm, fearing the wrath she may incur if Wednesday was even a bit more annoyed. She had already stabbed Xavier with her pen twice. He didn’t even have the nerve to treat her to a spectacle such as you did.

Her cello was bearing the brunt of her bad mood this evening, pulling along the strings and bow to string together a much blunter rendition of Shostakovich’s String Quartet No. 8. The callouses on the tips of her fingers burned as she flew through the piece, a much-needed pain to distract her from her inner turmoil. It felt so right.

As the last few notes on the page crept up on her, the quartet drawing to a close, there was a glint in the night. Brows furrowed and lips pouted, she closed her music book, setting down her bow and cello to approach the edge of the stoned terrace. A raven- big and beautiful, flapped its wings closer, a chain dangling from its beak with a pendant hanging from the end. Like it recognized her, it stalled in the air, almost waiting for Wednesday to hold out her hand.

Tentatively, she did so, and the raven dropped the cold, sterling silver amulet into her hand. Ignoring its retreat, she turned the amulet around, peering into the glass class on the other side. Its contents puzzled her.

“Don’t turn around.”

Head snapping up, Wednesday felt a tingle run down her spine as she looked onto the horizon. She knew that voice.

One that was normally distorted with another’s, warbled and lost in a tonal fray, was crystal clear.

“I… I wanted to apologize.”

“For ignoring my existence?”

“Yes, I just…” She could hear your exasperated sigh behind her, and instead of turning around, she channeled her want into running her fingers along the grooves of the amulet. “I want to show you who I am. I do. I just don’t think that I… That I’m prepared for what that means. So I got you that.”

It was a Victorian mourning locket. Inside its glass prison lay a small, cut stock card. Oil paints had been used to portray a single, lively and bright eye, laid deep into plush skin. Framing it, were strands of hair, glued and staged to look as though it would when hanging naturally. A single braid of the same hair wormed around and enclosed the portrait, snug against the silver. The hair, skin, and eye colors were unfamiliar to her- but Wednesday Addams was a smart girl, she could piece it together.

She felt as if you had grabbed her heart and pulled it out of her chest, content to watch it slow to a stop in your hand, and all she could muster was- “Who painted this?”

You muffled a laugh. “My dad, don’t worry.”

Wednesday could hear your steps, and by the fourth, she could feel how warm you were against her back.

“This is just my way of saying… that when I’m ready, you’ll be the first person I show. You’ve already seen more of me than anyone else here has.”

Just like when you first met the infamous Wednesday Addams, your fingers were numb. Though, this time, instead of excitement, you were dreadfully, painfully, nervous. Nervous that the girl standing only a few feet in front of you would reject your declaration. All was silent, and the only sound you could comprehend was the thudding of your pulse in your ears as she held the locket out behind her.

“Put it on for me.”

Fingers shaking, you struggled to unclasp the chain, before pulling the chain around her thin neck. Securing the clasp again, you lingered, warm hands smoothing out the baby hairs on the nape of her neck.

Wednesday watched unfamiliar hands flash in front of her eyes, and she knew that she had you at that very moment. “Sit,” she demands again, settling down on the floor of the terrace. One more moment and your back was entirely pressed against hers, the ridges of your spines kissing through your muscle, skin, and clothes. “Thank you,” Wednesday said quietly into the night air, “I’m… I’m pleased, that I’ll be the first.”

She took your hand in hers, and the numbness faded.

---

Thank you guys for reading!! If you enjoyed it pls let me know, my inbox and mentions are always open and reblogs are always appreciated <3

This is a playlist I made for Wednesday, it’s got Latin American goth and orchestral pieces (including the one mentioned above), so if that’s your vibe pls check it out!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1CbNa8jneefleLKCK98HHC?si=0fc47154f345442d

#Wednesday (2022)#Wednesday imagine #Wednesday x Reader #Wednesday Addams x Reader #Wednesday fanfic #reader insert #my fics #my fic

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wildemaven · 11 months

Text

Sweet Creature: Chapter One

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (In future chapters)

WC: 4070

Summary: A washed up movie star with a failing career, fresh out of rehab and looking to turn his life around. He moves back to his small hometown to take a break from stardom and help his sister out with his niece— He’s traded the high-life for school runs and crafting. What he doesn’t except is to meet you, his niece’s school teacher who couldn’t care less about his extensive filmography or his dwindling fame.

Warning: 18+ Blog; brief description of drug use, rehabilitation/mentions of rehab stay, getting treatment for drug addiction, absent parents, anxiety, sister giving ultimatum, apologetic Dieter, determined to turn life around, cursing, if I’ve missed anything feel free to let me know.

A/N: Firstly, big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for listening to me drone on about this! And for also being a champ and beta’ing for me too!!

This chapter has some heavy elements to it, and I hope it comes across as a serious tone considering the topic of drug usage. I wanted Dieter to be deliberate in his attempt to better himself. There might be some reference to this characters contents in the future, but this will be the only one containing any actual drugs. There’s a lot of information packed into this chapter to help get the story going. I’ve been so blown away by the responses to this series and I really hope I do it justice! Any questions/comments/or you just want to chat more about this chapter, my ask box is always open!! xx

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

A few sharp knocks on the bathroom door.

“Hello?? Is someone in there?”

No response.

The slightest twist of the knob. Unlocked. Unoccupied.

Only the opening of the door reveals quite the opposite. Occupied.

“Oh! I’m so so sor— Oh my god! Are you fucking serious right now?! You’re getting high at a 6 year old’s birthday party!”

No response. Just a deadpan look of nothingness from the body propped up next to the toilet.

“I fucking knew it. I knew you would fucking let her down!! God!!! You’re such a fucking deadbeat, washed up douchebag— so fucking ridiculous.”

“W-whyy a-rrre y-youuu yellllling? Shhhhh!” His speech laden with a hint of sarcasm.

“You’re a fucking joke! I can’t believe you would do this to your sister!”

“What are you yelling about in here?? Wren is getting ready to open her presents and wants everyone to watch her. Dieter why are you on the flo— are you fucking high?”

“Ag-ainnn shhhhhhh!” His pointer finger emphatically raised to his lips, the noise too much for his dazed mind.

“You promised me Dieter! You fucking promised me no drugs! I should have known better, I should have fucking known you’d do this— you don’t care about how much this hurts me to see you like this, constantly letting me down. I’m done Dieter, I’m so fucking done trying to help you if you’re not going to help yourself. Fuck! Get the fuck out! Go! Now!! I don’t want you near us, I won’t put Wren through this. Get help or stay away!”

The door slams, Dieter left alone to ruminate over what was said in the small tiled space.

Even in his stupefied state, the words thrown at him were enough to make an immediate impact. The cognitive part of his brain working over time to push through and make a levelheaded thought.

“Deadbeat”

“Washed up”

“Get help or Stay away”

Reaching for his phone, he dials his lifeline who drops everything for him, probably due to her reoccurring paycheck, his assistant whom he’s thankful doesn’t hate him enough to ignore his call out of the blue.

“Heeeey! I n-neeeed y-you to c-ommme g-get meee…”

He knew this was it, he had to get his shit together or suffer the consequences.

He feels different if he’s being honest with himself.

Lighter.

Healthier.

Alive.

365 days clean. He made a commitment to a year long stay at a drug rehabilitation center, followed by a 3 month residency in a sober living facility conveniently tucked away in the Hollywood hills.

Yet, he feels more lost than he was before he started treatment.

He can’t remember what living a normal, healthy life is like— a life not high out of his mind 24/7.

This wasn’t his first time trying to get clean, he’d become a regular of sorts at a few different rehab centers scattered through out the greater Los Angeles area.

Each stay with the same goal and each one a failed attempt at getting control over his life without the drugs.

It was never “hope this is the time it really clicks for him”, it was always a question of “how long will he go this time before he’s kicked out and checking into the next one”— might have even been a headline a time or two.

Many centers refusing to even consider treating him based on his past reputation alone.

His agent’s patience was wearing thin trying to book roles for Dieter, doing his best to convince directors he wasn’t a liability and he could get the job done with zero risk in hiring him— it was far from the truth.

Each day on set became a game of Russian Roulette, no one really knowing which side of Dieter they would be dealing with while shooting. That in itself was a metaphorical high he chased with each role he booked, seeing how long before some one caught on to his slurred words, blood shot eyes and sluggish demeanor.

On numerous occasions Dieter thought he was skillful in his ability to mask his inebriated ego. He was combative with the crew and fellow actors— his temperament calm and mellow one moment, then seething and dripping with rage the next.

He was getting sloppy. The teetering domino of his life had slowly began to tip and once it did finally fall, his entire life crumbling around him.

The traffic is heavier than expected. Dieter wonders if it’s due to others similarly seeking to leave the city in hopes for a break from the dim aura that Los Angeles is. He can feel the weight of the city’s reputation lift from his shoulders with each passing mile as he maneuvers through the stretch of freeway congestion.

A few honking horns bring his attention back to the conversation he’s currently semi engaged in.

“This is a big step Dieter. I’m really proud of how far you’ve come.”

He instantly cringes at the thought of getting back out to sell himself for roles. Facing those who were- and are- tired of his shit.

The downfall of his career began when he was late for dress rehearsal for a role he some how managed to get— this role having potential to get him in the running for award nominations, propelling his career to new heights. But when he was no where to be found at call time, his assistant went on the search for him and it’s where she found him passed out in his trailer. He was too far gone to even pull himself together, prompting the director to fire him on the spot.

The rate of speed at which news travels in Hollywood is the equivalent to a fast moving wildfire— once that first bit of gossip hits the ground, it’s spreading through the industry with a sudden surge of ferocity and growing far beyond what is predictable.

His agent's attempt at damage control was a wasted effort. Directors dumping Dieter’s preproduction roles, actors refusing to work with him and threatening to quit if Dieter stayed on— his list of films beginning to dwindle in a matter of days and by the end of the week, Dieter Bravo was jobless.

“The next few months will go by quickly, and before you know it you’ll be back out here booking jobs and proving everyone wrong.”

Vanessa, Dieter’s assistant and full time babysitter, always seemed to have a way to make him feel at ease. And at this point, the only person he knew who believed he could actually turn his life around.

“I really fucking hope so.” He sighs, this was his attempt at thinking positive.

“Have you talked to her yet?” Her voice cracking through the car speakers as he continues his drive north on the 101.

“Briefly. Told her I’d probably be getting in around 6 or so— BEEP!— Watch out asshole!” Throwing a middle finger at said asshole driver who nearly missed clipping his car.

“She’s proud of you too, ya know. Might not seem like it right now, but she is.”

“Hmm. I’ll just agree to disagree with you on that point. Having a drug addict—“

“Former drug addicted, Dieter.”

“Right— well, having a deadbeat for an older brother doesn’t really leave a lot to be proud of.”

“You’d be surprised. Hey, I got another call coming in. I’ll be in touch with you soon! Call me if you need anything! Again, Dieter, I'm really proud of you!”

“Thanks Nessa! I’ll talk to you soon.”

The call ending abruptly, leaving him to sit alone in his thoughts for the next hour and a half—something he hasn’t really taken the chance to experience since, well, a long while.

The Santa Monica Mountains provide a scenic view as he leaves behind the place he saw as his home for the last 20 years.

His current destination plugged into his stupidly expensive sports car.

Home. Where he grew up.

He can’t even remember the last time he visited. Not due to the years as an actor taking him to all areas of the world. The last time he had been home was just over a year ago and he was high out of his mind, barely remembering the trip as a whole.

His sister had asked if he’d be able to make it to his niece’s birthday. She was turning 6 and had been begging for her uncle to be there to celebrate with— he was easily her most favorite person. The specifics of the getting to his sister’s home and the actual party are pretty blurry for Dieter.

Dieter spent most of the last year trying to produce a coherent flashback of the day that would ultimately be his last time using, the reason for his commitment to getting his life together.

He never expected the lowest point in his life would be being caught in the bathroom of his sister’s home doing a few quick lines on the toilet seat, as his niece was blowing out 6 candles a few feet outside the tiny bathroom surrounded by friends and family.

The moments following are a mixture of hazy clips, fragmented bits of information,

he’s tried to piece together to the best of his ability.

The rush of someone bursting through the bathroom door, the echoes of laughter and music piercing his ears as he’s hunched on the floor against the wall, little specks of a white powdery residue dusting his mustache.

There’s screaming as he does his best to focus his blurry attention on the distorted enraged figure in front of him, yelling something about being washed up— his eye lids heavy and fighting against them to keep them opened.

If he had to recall the exact moment he knew he fucked up, it was seeing the hurt and disappointment on his sister's face— her face wet with tears as she poured out her disappointment and pain over the fact that he was strung-out at her daughter’s birthday party. The weight of his consequences bleeding through him as he vividly recalls his sister telling him to leave and not come back unless he was sober.

The next day he checked himself in, determined to get his life together for good.

He shakes away the subtle tinge of guilt that starts to bubble up in his chest.

Remembering the ‘54321 Method’ he was taught in treatment to help ground himself when his thoughts start to become overwhelming…

5 things you see: the sun slowly making its way to the horizon, cars moving swiftly by his own, Live Oak trees rooted among the mountains, the slightest twinkling of the first few stars, his reflection in the rear view mirror— lighter, healthier, alive.

4 things things to touch: the leather of the steering wheel, his jeans fabric soft and comfortable, the cool metal of his rings adorning his fingers, the weight of his sobriety chip in his pocket a constant reminder of how far he’s come.

3 things you hear: the familiar beat of a popular song streaming through the car speakers, rhythmic tapping of his thumbs in tune with the song, his off-key voice as he sings along to the words he knows.

2 things you smell: his olfactory nerve triggered at the distinct scent of his woody amber cologne, that new car smell that still lingers throughout the car’s interior.

1 thing you taste: a minty tingle on his tongue as he chews his last piece of gum.

His nerves settle, his eyes focused on the road ahead, deciding he’ll right his wrongs when he gets to his stop— his sister’s house.

The trip took longer than he’d originally planned. Weekend traffic to blame for the 2 hour delay in his arrival.

‘Welcome to Ojai’— the stone sign greets him, dim uplighting barely making it readable as he turns on to the familiar street.

The town is all but empty at this time of the night, street lights plus the few restaurants and bars that are open give off enough ambient light to drape the streets in a subtle glow.

He’s instantly taken back to his childhood, so many memories tucked away throughout the picturesque landscape.

Growing up with famous parents wasn’t all that glamorous in Dieter’s eyes.

Dieter’s parents, Dean and Mary Bravo, were both well known in the tv and movie world.

Dean had been known for his roles in James Bond-esque action films through his career, notably his best work among other smaller productions he worked on. Mary was the queen of daytime television with her numerous roles in soap opera’s biggest shows, a socialite getting invited to glamorous events and elite celebrity parties.

Together they were Hollywood’s “It” couple, jet-setting to all parts of the world when schedules allowed for it.

Dieter and his younger sister, while born into this movie star family, were raised far from it. Dean and Mary deciding to buy a home in the mountains outside of the headlines and prying eyes, a place where their kids could live a some what normal life.

Normal was anything but normal. Dean and Mary didn’t let children hold back their lives and desires of more fame. Leaving them with nannies so they could keep up with the demands of working and living their best lives.

Ojai, a small village-like town nestled in the valley of the Topanga Mountains, became a literal playground for Dieter growing up.

Little reminders of his childhood still remain as he ventures further into town. He finds himself slowing the car a bit as he takes it all in, rolling the window down to let the evening air hit his face— it’s crisp as it trickles across his skin.

The private school he attended all through his schooling years sits on top of a hill that over looks the valley. The school’s reputation was highly regarded and offered a plethora of academic courses and electives. Dieter found the art and theater programs to be where he excelled most, painting and acting fueled his passion for the arts, propelling him into pursuing one as a full time career.

He spots Bart’s Books as he drives on, an outdoor bookstore, that had become a daily hangout as a kid. The red wooden shelves still filled with adventures and history to get lost in. He discovered his love for storytelling sitting on the covered patio, nose deep in fictional worlds he dreamed of visiting.

Across the way, a ‘no vacancy’ neon sign flickers on. Capri Hotel, a newly renovated hotel that still looks like it could have come straight from the 1960s with its mid-century design and modern style. He recalls the summer when him and his buddies regularly jumped the fence to swim in the pool, the cool water under the stars was refreshing during the California heat waves. They managed to only get caught once but worked out a barter with the then owners, they clean the pool and in turn can use the pool at their leisure. The hotel seems to be under new ownership now, but it seems to be doing well.

On every corner there’s an art gallery. Some still looking as if no time had passed, others adorn new names and a fresh coat of paint. Several galleries offered summer painting classes, where Dieter found he had more creative freedom than in school to explore all mediums and really honing in on his style. He’s always imagined he’d have his own showing of his paintings, friends and family gathering to see his work— a dream he never lived out.

His car parked and engine killed, he still hasn’t found the courage to get out. He can see a few lights on from the front windows of his sister’s quaint Spanish style home. Trying to not let the vague memories of his last visit deter him from going inside. He sends Vanessa a text, letting her know he’d made it safely and that he’d text her if he needed anything.

Bags in tow, he makes his way to the front door. Nerves and emotions swirling around, reminding himself to breathe, letting go of the fear and expectations he’d had for this reunion.

He opts for knocking, assuming Wren would be sleeping at this hour.

The clicking of locks being turned, twisting of the door knob, the black wooden door swings open to the space that’s haunted him for the last year.

“Hey, Diem. Sorry I’m so—“ He starts to explain his lateness before he’s cut off.

“Dieter! Oh my god! I thought something happened to you! What the fuck?!” Her body launches at him, arms wrapping around him securely. He accepts the impromptu hug, dropping his bags to return the gesture.

“No, no I’m good. Traffic was a nightmare and by the time I thought to call, service was fucked. Sorry for making you worry.”

“You’re here and you’re safe— that’s all that matters.”

This greeting is going far better than he had expected, but he hasn’t made over the threshold, still plenty of time for Diem to drop the hammer on him.

“Come in! Let’s get you all settled in.” She ushers him in, closing the door and adjusting the locks again.

He takes the space in, noting not much has changed from what he can tell in the diffused lighting, but he feels warm and welcoming even for him.

“I got the spare room all cleaned and ready for you. New sheets on the bed and a few extra pillows just in case.” She seems skittish moving about the living room, picking up the few toys laying around the room and placing them back in their designated baskets. “If you want to sit, make yourself comfortable. You want anything to drink? Eat?”

She seems just as nervous as he is and that makes him feel less anxious for some reason.

“I grabbed some food on the way, I’m good.” Setting his bags down, he makes his way to the couch and sits down, deciding to rip the bandage off so to speak.

Diem taking his lead, sits on the opposite end of the couch, legs tucked under her and hands resting on her lap. A lull hangs over them for a few moments, neither really know what to say or do. He notices her fingers fidgeting and decides to break the silence.

“I know we haven’t talked much since the last time I was here,” He sees the brief wince on her face at the mention of it, as if she’d been actively trying to avoid talking about it. “But I want to tell you how sorry I am for—“

“Dieter, you don’t have to.”

“No, actually I do. And I’m going to. Not only because it’s part of my steps in recovery, but because you deserve it— Wren deserves it.”

“She doesn’t know— about the drugs or you going to rehab.” She doesn’t look at him as she says it.

“I won’t mention it to her then.”

“I just told her you were busy and that you’d be coming to spend time with us 'cause you missed her.”

“Why did you agree? After all the shit I’ve done and put you through, why are you letting me stay here?”

That gets her attention, her eyes glossy with unshed tears as she looks at him with nothing but love and forgiveness. “Because you’re my brother and I want you here, despite all the shit you put me through.”

He shifts closer to where she’s sitting, wiping the few tears that had decided to fall. He doesn’t think he deserves her kindness, but is grateful he has this opportunity to do what he’s been wanting to do.

“I’m sorry for the pain and hurt that I caused you. Not only at Wren’s party, but all the other times I’d said I was clean and wasn’t. For putting you both second to my addiction. I’m sorry for not being here when you needed me most. I promise I’m going to do my best to earn your trust and prove to you that I am committed to my sobriety.”

Leaning back, his hand digs into his pocket pulling out his proof, grabbing Diem’s hand and turns it over placing the chip in her palm. She looks at it then back at him, the most genuine smile graces her face before she wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him in for a hug.

“I love you Dieter! Thank you for not only doing this for us, but for yourself as well. I’m really proud of you.”

“I love you too Diem.”

Releasing Dieter from the hug, she adjusts herself back to her previous position, now more relaxed with her elbow resting on the back of the couch propping her head up as she looks at Dieter, really taking in how healthy he looks since she’d last seen him.

“Thank you for also letting me stay here. I needed to get out of the city for a bit, clear my head and shit. Should only be a few months or less, until I can get a few things lined up— have a few potential projects I requested scripts for.”

The thought of returning to his old ways terrified him, he had all the tools and support to continue working on himself outside of treatment, but he didn’t want to chance it. He instantly knew exactly where he wanted to spend the next few months re-acclimating back into this new way of living, away from temptation. Knowing their last conversation was anything but great, he'd decided an e-mail felt less grievous and hoped she’d find it in her heart to accept him back in her home again.

“Of course. Stay as long as you need to.”

“And I can help how ever you need me to, figured it would keep me busy doing stuff, help out with Wren.”

“Oh my gosh, please! It’s peak tourist season the next few weeks at the Hotel and I’ve got a handful of events we’re hosting too. School runs would be a big help for me.”

“Hotel?” He’s sure he heard her right but doesn’t remember any mention of a hotel that he can recall.

“Funny story actually-- I bought the Capri last year. Did some renovations and it’s been great really. Keeps me busy most of the time, but I love it.”

Diem was never one for the spotlight, especially with movie star family members, actively avoiding anything to do with Hollywood and its ostentatious air. She always had a knack for making drab things look enticing, so Dieter isn’t surprised one bit by the mention of her being the new owner of the Capri Hotel.

“And now that I’m the owner, you can swim for free— pool cleaning is encouraged too.” He laughs at that.

“Congrats on owning a hotel I guess. I’ll definitely be taking advantage of swimming privileges then.”

“Alright. I’m going to head to bed, got an early morning dropping Wren off before I meet with the planner for our next event.”

“I can take her tomorrow.”

“You sure? You don’t want to settle in a bit first?”

“Nah, it’ll be nice spending some time with her.”

“Okay. Prepare yourself for a wild time then.”

She kisses the top of his head before heading in the direction of her room. Stopping before turning down the hall, she looks back at Dieter who hasn’t moved from the couch, one of his hands rubbing at the opposite shoulder and leaning his head to the side to stretch it out a bit— the longer car rides really doing a number on him.

“Dieter—“

His head turns towards the direction of his name being called.

"Hmm?"

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #sweet creature series #Pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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harmonicakai · 24 hours

Text

This Is Me Trying

Part 3 of the "Anyone Else But You" series

Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader

Summary: Being friends with Huening Kai would be much simpler if he didn’t give you butterflies all the time.

Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: swearing, reader is insecure, mentions of death

A/N: I made a Spotify playlist for this fic if anybody wants to give it a listen hehe <3

“Remember how I used to be so Stuck in one place, so cold? Feeling like my heart just froze Nowhere to go with no one, nobody” —Magic, TXT

When the weekend comes around, you’re worried that you’ve hallucinated the entire situation, but when Kai knocks on your front door, he looks good. Really good.

“I–I like your outfit,” you say, taking note of the details. “It’s different from how you usually dress.”

“Yeonjun helped me pick stuff out. He said you’d like this.” Kai spins, allowing you to take in the full ensemble. He’s ditched his usual skater boy attire for a button down, slacks, and a chocolate brown wool coat that matches the color of his eyes.

“You didn’t have to dress up for me,” you say, shaking your head.

“Of course I did. You’re the coolest looking person I know.” Has he always thought that? “I don’t know how you do it every day, though. We probably spent hours picking out just this one look.”

“Every Sunday, I plan my outfits for the week. Sometimes it takes the whole day if I’m not feeling too creative.”

“That sounds stressful.”

“It is.”

“Why do you do it, then? I mean, you always look good, but does it make you feel good?”

You blink back at him. Nobody has ever asked you anything like this. You have no idea how to respond.

Kai can tell that he’s struck a nerve. “Sorry. I just meant that if it stresses you out, you shouldn’t feel pressured to do it all the time. There’s a lot to like about you besides how you dress.”

“Right. Should we get going?” you ask, fiddling with the hem of your cardigan. Suddenly you feel overdressed.

“Let’s do it,” he smiles.

All you can think about on the walk over to the concert hall is whether or not this is a date. It feels like a date. He’s dressed like it’s one.

He said he wanted to be friends, you remind yourself. Still, when he accidentally drifts close to you and your shoulders brush, you can feel your face heat up.

You sit together on the steps of the concert hall, people watching and pointing out your favorite and least favorite outfits.

“I like her hat,” Kai says, pointing to a toddler walking hand in hand with her mom. She’s wearing a fluffy beanie with bear ears.

“Maybe I can convince the team to let you wear one on stage,” you think out loud. “It would be really cute for a concert.”

“That would be so awesome, Y/N! But I don’t want you to think about work right now. Let’s just have fun today.”

“I’m always thinking about work,” you admit. “I’ve thought about clothes every second of my life for what seems like forever now.”

“You aren’t that old,” he points out.

“I’m one year older than you,” you remind him. He skipped the birthday party that Yeonjun threw for you last winter.

“Okay, I take it back,” he surrenders. “You’re old and should look into retirement soon.”

You know he’s just joking, but you can’t help but think that he’s right. Maybe you shouldn’t focus so much on what everybody is wearing all the time, yourself included.

“Y/N,” Kai says, snapping you out of your thoughts. You jerk your head up.

“I used to play in an orchestra,” you blurt out, instantly regretting answering a question that was never asked. Still, you have Kai’s full attention, and the point of this is for the two of you to get to know each other. “I, uh, I played the viola, but I wasn’t very good at it.”

“That’s so cool! I play the piano!” You already know that. Everybody does, but you appreciate how he seems to have forgotten that he’s world famous. “We should do a duet sometime! MOA would love it.”

“Uh, I’m not sure MOA would love seeing you with a girl,” you deflect. You’ve seen what dating scandals can do to someone’s career.

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he agrees. You watch the cogs inside his head spin before a lightbulb goes off. “Maybe we can set Taehyun up with a fake one on Academy Reincarnation and you can play in the background. ”

“That… actually sounds pretty funny.”

“Ooh, Y/N, thinks I’m funny,” he muses, before turning away to face the busy square. “Seoul! Y/N thinks I’m funny!”

“Shh!” you laugh, cupping your hand over his mouth. You are not mentally prepared to deal with any crazed fangirls tonight. “We have to go inside, now.”

Before you can overthink it, Kai grabs your hand and the two of you rush inside, greeted by marble floors and draped velvets. It’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” you sigh, taking the entire lobby in. “You know, I haven’t been here since I was a little girl. My mom would bring me here all the time. She played the piano like you. I always wanted to take after her, but I have trouble forming chords.”

“I can give you lessons, if you want,” he offers. “I have a keyboard in my room back at home.”

“I’d like that,” you smile back. You try not to read too much into being invited into his bedroom.

“Why don’t you and your mom go to concerts anymore?” Kai asks, hoping that it isn’t too personal a question. His anxiety grows exponentially as you take your time responding.

“She passed away when I was nine,” you say calmly. It doesn’t hurt you to tell people anymore. “I wanted to come because today is actually her birthday. My dad is really sensitive about it, though, so it was just going to be me. But I’m really glad you’re here.”

“Oh… Y/N, I’m really sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t know what I’d do without my mom.” He stares at his shoes, guilt written all over his face. “I could’ve made things more special for you.”

“Don’t worry, Kai. It already is special,” you say, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “My mom would probably be happy to see me coming here with someone who loves the piano just as much as she did.”

His face relaxes again, and he does very little to stop himself from grinning ear to ear.

After you take your seats in the back of the balcony and the lights begin to dim, a strange sense of calm overtakes you.

Despite being in a crowd of strangers, sitting next to Kai in the dark and listening to the hum of strings as they warm up makes you feel like you’re the only two people in the world.

Midway through the concert, you realize he’s still holding your hand. Maybe he’s like this with all of his friends, considering you’ve seen him and Soobin skipping down the halls hand in hand on multiple occasions. Still, you hope he never lets go.

—————-

Even though it’s technically your job, it’s a rare occasion where you actually get to dress the boys. Today, all hands are on deck for the filming of their upcoming album’s concept trailer.

“I can’t believe they’re making you wear a white sweater,” you sigh, holding up Kai’s outfit for the Dreamer sequence. “Everybody else gets such cute colors.”

“At least I get to stand out,” he grins, always looking on the bright side. He’s already got on his eyepatch, but it’s a little crooked. You walk over to fix it.

“Hold still,” you say, adjusting it into place and smoothing his hair down. “There we go.”

“Was I better this time?” he asks. You look up at him in confusion.

“What?” His face is so close to yours that you can feel his breath.

“I didn’t move this time. That night at the club,” he explains, “Well, you were telling me the story of when we first met. How I flinched and walked away and it hurt your feelings.”

“Oh. Yeah, you were much better this time.”

“I’m glad. I’ll try to be good for you, Y/N. I’m really sorry about before. I feel like I really wasted our time being so… weird. We could’ve been friends much earlier.”

“It’s okay, Kai, really,” you say, stepping back and handing him his sweater.

“It’s not, Y/N. It was silly of me to be so nervous around you.”

“You were nervous?”

“I guess you don’t remember that part of the conversation either, huh?” he asks, pulling his t-shirt off. You’ve seen the rest of the group shirtless before, but Kai usually goes into the bathroom to change whenever you’re around.

Your cheeks flush as you stare at his smooth skin and his broad shoulders.

“Uh, Y/N?” he says. While you were checking him out, Kai managed to get himself stuck. “I think my shirt is caught on my necklace. Can you help?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” you say, working gently to untangle the fabric around his neck. You can feel how warm his chest is, reminding you of riding in the taxi on his lap. Eventually, you’re able to get him freed.

“Thank you,” Kai smiles. “I’m really glad you’re here. Everybody else is always rushing me.”

“I might get in trouble if you don’t hurry up, Hyuka.” You’ve never called him by a nickname before. It’s foreign to think about, but somehow rolls naturally off your tongue.

“Fine, okay, I’m ready,” he says, pulling the sweater on. The color actually compliments him really well. “Do you need to add any finishing touches?”

“Hmm, spin around,” you say, twirling your finger. Kai does his signature penguin stance and waddles in a circle, making you giggle. “No, you look cute.”

Your eyes widen as you realize what you’ve just said.

“You think I’m cute,” he smiles, doing a little happy dance. “Ooh, I’m the cutest boy in the world, huh?”

“Hey! I said you look cute,” you assert, crossing your arms in an attempt to play it off. He’s right, but you don’t want him to know that.

“Close enough,” he says, grabbing his crown off of the makeup table. “I should go. I’ll see you later. You’re the best!”

He pulls you into a hug, nearly lifting you off the ground. When you’re back on your feet, he presses a quick kiss to your cheek and leaves the dressing room. Yeonjun does it all the time, but it feels different coming from Kai.

Your hand moves to your cheek, lingering on the spot where his lips touched. Fuck. You might actually be falling for Huening Kai.

—————-

For the past two months, you and Kai have alternated picking out activities to do together. Last week, you taught him how to make banana bread. He almost set your apartment on fire.

Today, he’s invited you to his place to practice playing the piano.

You’re more nervous than you need to be. It’s your first time in his bedroom, but it’s completely innocent.

Except when you’re sitting on the piano bench together, knees and shoulders pressed against each other, and he’s got his hands placed over yours to help guide you, you feel butterflies in your stomach. That’s not how people who are just friends feel.

You’ve come too far to throw it all away over a stupid crush. He’s simply much too out of your league. Still, while he’s busy explaining chord progressions, you’re staring at how long his eyelashes are and how cute he looks when he’s wearing his glasses.

“Are you even listening to me?” Kai asks, pouting. “I thought you wanted to learn, Y/N!”

“I do!” you lie. “I am very interested in what you’re saying right now.”

“What did I even say?” He crosses his arms and furrows his brow in fake anger.

“Um…” you start. You know you’ve been caught. “I’m sorry. I was distracted.”

His face shifts to worry. “Is something wrong?”

“No! Nothing’s wrong. Let’s keep going,” you say, flipping through his binder of sheet music. “Oh, I love this song!”

You had never expected him to have the piano score to Night Changes by One Direction, but you aren’t complaining. In a way, TXT’s dynamic reminds you a lot of the long gone boy group.

“This song is kind of like us,” he notes. You shoot him a confused look. It’s a love song, after all.

“What do you mean by that?” you ask, your palms now sweaty.

“I just think it’s kind of crazy how things changed between us.” That’s not really what the song is about, but you’re not going to tell him that. “I’m glad we’re friends now.”

“Oh, yeah, super crazy,” you say, exhaling. “I’m glad we’re friends too.”

“Y/N?” he asks, his face close to yours. Is he about to do what you think he is?

“Yes?”

“You have an eyelash on your face.” He brushes a finger across your cheek and holds up the lost lash with a smile. “Make a wish.”

You blow it away, vowing to never let him know that what you asked for was him.

“I have to tell you something,” you confess. “I don’t actually want to learn how to play the piano. I’d rather just listen to you play.”

“Oh,” he says, pleasantly surprised. “I can do that. Should I serenade you, too, m’lady?”

“Yes, please,” you giggle. His goofy side is such a nice departure from the gloomy, quiet Kai you were used to.

You’ve heard this song probably hundreds of times, but Kai’s version feels brand new. As you watch his fingers dance across the keys and listen to his soft voice, the lyrics begin to seem like they were written just for the two of you.

—————-

Taglist: @orangesodafoam @deezbutz28 @ur-mother-realnotclickbait @iyeeeverydee @internet-folks @darlingz99 @foxyjun @stardustmooncakes @giaalorine @beomgyubabybear @niningtori @goquokka @csbenthusiast @moarmyjkhk @lizdevorak @sooberryworld @lonelybutterflytae @midnight-mochii @theresawtf @nowadays56 @jjklvr9

P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist!

#hueningkai x reader #hueningkai #huening txt #txt #tomorrow x together #txt imagines #txt fic #txt hyuka #hyuka x reader #txt x reader #txt fluff #txt angst #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai angst #hueningkai imagines

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ascendanttarot · 8 months

Text

PAC: Reassuring Messages From The Universe

Hi everyone! I have a feeling some people may need a pick-me-up at the moment hence why I made this reading. I think this may be my longest reading so far! There will be signs listed before to ensure the message is for you. If you resonate with one or more signs, that is meant to be your reading. At the end, each pile will also have a quote and channelled song to listen to that resonates with your reading. The specific lyrics that I heard are listed below the title. :)

Please remember your fate is not set in stone so your answers may change depending on the actions you take and will take if you please. Tarot is not a substitute for professional advice. The images I’ve used are not mine.

From left to right, Pile 1, 2 & 3.

Pile 1

Signs:

You may be a Lana Del Rey fan, or at least have one of her songs be your one of your favourite songs

You may be really creative. Specifically, I see most of you here are artists because I just saw an image of someone’s hand covered in paint like a make-shift palette to find the right colour, or someone wiping away excess paint on their skin

You may be left-handed. To be honest, this kind of relates back to the art thing because I just heard someone swearing because their pencil sketches were smudged by their hand again lol

You are a ride-or-die friend. I’m not picking up any signs that the people who picked this pile could be ‘low maintenance friends’ because all I could feel was a loyal and passionate heart, particularly towards their friends

Okay this is an odd message but some of you here are DEHYDRATED, like you’re not even thirsty anymore this is beyond that. Please drink some water if you haven’t at all today

Back to music here, but do some of you spend hours making playlists? I just saw someone using a lot of their free time to curate playlists. I even saw some of you here like making playlists for specific people

Another weird message here but I just smelled crayons, so I’m interpreting this in a few different ways: you may be connected to your inner child, or you may work with children/have plans to work with children, or you would like to be a parent/are a parent

Your Cards: The Emperor, Knight of Cups rx, Page of Wands rx, Justice rx, The Star, 10 of Pentacles

Your Reading:

Okay, the first thing I heard while looking at these cards were the words, “Lost time” and I think that sums up half of your reading quite well.

The cards show that at the beginning of this particular situation, you felt like you were fully in your power. A very Mars-dominant energy to be in, or an Aries energy to be in wherein you felt like you could take on anything. It’s like this was a time when your confidence was at an all-time high about yourself, but also about something. For most of you, this ‘something’ was a project. For some of you, this could be a relationship. The point is, this was something in your life you felt was given to you like you’ve waited for this and finally you’ve got it, but that hope didn’t last.

As we moved on, I felt heavy feelings of frustration. Like you were ready to spring into action but something or someone else was telling you to wait, like they were stringing you along. At the back of your mind, you knew you were being taken advantage of, but you decided to stick with it anyway. I just heard, “It’s worth it.” So maybe this was something you wanted for so long that you felt like you had to stick to it because you couldn’t see how another opportunity could be better than this. I’m really sensing this was a career move for some of you here. Maybe some of you were promised a promotion but you didn’t get it. Maybe some of you were given false hope by a higher-up that this project idea of yours would be taken seriously, but you just had to wait for the right time.

And these people kept giving you excuses. If this were a relationship, I could sense that maybe this was someone who you thought would be ready to fully commit to a relationship, but they never ended up being mature enough to make that decision. It could even be a platonic relationship, and this person wanted you and them to be more casual friends, but you were ready to be a ride-or-die as I’ve stated in the signs above. The overwhelming feeling here is that you got the shorter end of the stick.

But, of course, this doesn’t last. The universe is trying to tell you that if you were broken down before and were able to build yourself back up again, then you can do that now. For most of you, I feel you’ve already left this situation and are worried that this was a mistake, and that you shouldn’t have left in the first place, but the cards are saying otherwise.

Your hope was burned out because of what you’ve gone through. You’ve sacrificed your hope and your sense of self, but the next chapter of your life won’t ask you to do that anymore. If anything, this new chapter will nurture all of those traits you have always felt were intrinsically part of who you are.

If this were a relationship, you’d probably take a break from dating for a while, but your friendships will be a cornucopia of love and support, with new and old friends alike. If this was a job or project, a new opportunity will not only cause success, but stable success. The universe is giving you the new direction you need. “One door closes so the other one opens.”

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 1!

Your Channelled Song: Let The Light In by Lana Del Rey and Father John Misty

“Put the Beatles on, light the candles, go back to bed”

“Put the TV on and the flowers in a vase, lie your head”

“Ooh, let the light in

At your back door yelling 'cause I wanna come in

Ooh, turn your light on

Look at us, you and me back at it again”

Pile 2

Signs:

You may be a blunt and direct person, and you may have even gotten in trouble for this in the past. Really, I could sense you’re just a BS detector. I also saw someone rolling their eyes and saying “C’mon, talk to me straight I’ve got things to do!” haha!

I just heard ‘homebody’, so I feel like plenty of introverts have picked this pile!

You may be the sarcastic, unintentionally funny friend. If you know you know. But to specify I saw someone in a group setting saying something like “I hate half of the people in this room/I didn’t want to go—I got dragged here by my friends, please don’t talk to me” and someone laughing because they didn’t think you were serious (You were)

You’ve got a dry/witty sense of humour when you do try to make a joke intentionally, but either no one gets it, or it may be a touch too dark for their taste (Nothing problematic though!)

I got tempted to swear so many times writing out these signs so you may swear a lot. Like sometimes, if you’re in a professional environment you may find it difficult to filter out your words because of how automatic it is for you

I also feel like you’re really articulate. The first word I actually thought to describe your humour was ‘sardonic’ and I wasn’t even sure what that word meant so I can guarantee you that did not come from my mind (Yes, I had to Google the meaning)

For astrological signs, you may have Scorpio and/or Virgo in your chart. Possibly a stellium. With how active your mind is coming through in this reading and how much communication is highlighted in this section, I would not be surprised if your dominant planet is Mercury, or if you have many aspects involving that planet in your chart

Your Cards: The Hermit rx, 2 of Cups, 5 of Swords, 2 of Swords rx, King of Wands

Your Reading: Pile 2, please don’t get mad, but when I opened up to your energy, I was expecting a different message than what I delivered right now. I was ready to get serious, to go into deep waters and dive face first. But when I saw the cards… I may or may not have audibly giggled.

Not in a bad way! Hear me out before you scroll, I promise I’m saying this with the same fondness as a best friend, but pile 2, I know you’ve been in hermit mode for a while and are very comfortable staying there, but the universe isn’t really going to let that slide. For most of you, I could see you not wanting to go out but being pushed to do so by a friend. For some of you, you’ve even been convinced by some of your close friends to go on blind dates or new places to meet people in general, and you go but you really don’t want to.

The message here is clear: You’re going to meet someone new. For most of you, this will be a romantic partnership. For my aromantic folks or my readers who are simply not at all interested in romance, this will be a platonic relationship. Whatever this is, I could specifically see one person here coming out of nowhere and earnestly offering you love or friendship with respectful persistence, you wouldn’t even know what to do with them at first. I think a lot of you here have closed yourself off, not to your pre-existing close relationships, but to new people. This person is going to test that wall you’ve built around yourself and despite how much you try to intimidate them, they are not going away. Think of someone with ‘golden retriever’ vibes, which is funny because as I was tapping into your energy I got ‘black cat’ vibes from you. (I just heard, “The Arthur to my Merlin” and “The Gwen to my Morgana” whether platonically or romantically doesn’t matter, but wow, do I have some Merlin fans/old Merlin viewers in this pile)

In all seriousness though, I don’t think you have this boundary up for no reason. I’m seeing a very specific message of someone in the past that you used to trust no longer being in your life because they’ve done you wrong. This could possibly even be a betrayal of trust? Like you told them a secret, but they shared it with one person, and it quickly spread through word-of-mouth. The severing of that relationship was as fast as the betrayal done by the other person.

This made you more guarded towards newer people in your life. But also, I could see this even had a domino effect making you wary of new experiences and environments too because you’re scared you’ll meet a new person that way. The universe is saying this past relationship has clouded your judgment and will cloud your judgment when you meet this new person. What you don’t realise is that this person could actually be good for you if you take a chance. Some of you may be worried about co-dependency. The universe is actually saying that a relationship like this will actually make you more independent, and this is because this person is emotionally mature enough to actually commit. They’ll give, you’ll take. You’ll give, they’ll take. It feels like two people who genuinely see each other as equals, and therefore respect each other as such. Their commitment and genuine belief in you will make you a more confident person in the future, but more importantly, you’ll be bolder in your choices in life. You’ll grow to have a brave heart that other people will appreciate in you, and that you’ll appreciate in yourself. “Fortune favours the bold.”

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 2!

Your Channelled Song: King and Lionheart by Of Monsters and Men

“We won’t run, and we won’t run, and we won’t run”

“I’ll be here to hold your hand”

“'Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart”

Pile 3

Signs:

Your sun sign may be an earth sign or an air sign. I also feel like some people who picked this pile may be a Leo rising or have a Leo Midheaven, but more on the Leo rising actually

I feel like some of you here may have curly hair

You may be a part of the LGBTQIA+ community

You prefer winter palettes over lighter and pastel colours for your clothes. I’m not getting a specific style but the colours here are striking. Either an all-black outfit but with the same shade of black making you appear more put together, or someone wearing jewel-toned colours like emerald green or a very striking purple

You may like wearing statement pieces. I saw this image of you in someone else’s point of view, admiring a watch you always wear or commenting on how they know you’ve just been in the room because they smelled your perfume. Picture this, someone walks into an office and just says, “Was pile 3 here—actually, you don’t need to answer that I know they were here.” And the other person who doesn’t know you getting really confused so they clarify by saying, “Oh, I know they were here because they’re the only one in this building that wears (insert fragrance here)”

Some of you here may have a ritual of listening to music in the morning while you’re getting ready to hype yourself up. All genres are coming up right now, (No, seriously. It went from Gangsta’s Paradise to successful by Ariana Grande songs to It's a Long Way to the Top (If You Wanna Rock 'N' Roll)) but what unifies these songs together is that it’s there to put you in a good mood in the morning

You may be interested in working for yourself by either starting a new business or working your way to the top. Highly ambitious energy coming from this pile, but in all the best ways possible; it makes your energy infectious. Yes. That word specifically. Just a really great energy to be around

Your Cards: 5 of Wands, 3 of Pentacles, 8 of Swords, High Priestess, The Star (clarified by 3 of Cups)

Your Reading:

Okay, I want to preface this reading by saying that this pile feels similar to pile 1. You may not have had the same circumstances, but the arc is similar, so if you are attracted to pile 1, feel free to read it as a supplementary reading after this.

There’s a very clear energy here that you may have had a falling out with people in your life. This could be a group of co-workers, friends, or even family members. There was chaos surrounding your previous situation and you felt like people were constantly at each other’s throats. If it was not as aggressive as this, it is possible that at the very least you were in an environment you did not feel safe. I think these people showed their true colours, so to speak, and it made you realise how you shouldn’t have trusted certain individuals involved. The thing is though, I can feel you being an outsider in this situation. Like from the start of all of this, you made it clear to everyone you did not want to get involved. I literally just heard, “Get over yourself.” from this pile, so maybe some of you here may even feel that people were blowing up a whole pile of nothing, and/or that they all needed to act more maturely about the situation. I also feel like one person may have taken something personally when they shouldn’t and that could’ve made you particularly frustrated because you felt this person missed the point completely.

I could see that you tried providing counsel to try to smooth things out, but no one listened. This was your last straw. You left or will leave this situation and the universe applauds you for doing so. I think a lot of people in this situation had a victim complex. This is not a judgment on them, it’s simply a message that they have a lot of unhealed wounds they need to work on. You didn’t stand by this though, and this led to you making your boundaries clear and cutting yourself off completely. For some of you, this may be a temporary situation (I heard, “Fix this or don’t bother coming back.”) but for most of you, this may be a temporary step away from these people.

The universe saw that you trusted your gut and left and are rewarding you as such. I think you have a logical mind and are not used to making decisions intuitively, but this all happened because you did what felt right, and this show of trust is going to lead to positive effects.

For the people who picked this pile, I’m getting a strong message that your intuition is a muscle, and that’s true for most people but it’s especially true for yourself. I think you’ll be asked to make more quick decisions in the next phase of your life, Some decisions have larger consequences than others, but most will be small and trivial decisions such as, “Which café should I visit today?”. Before you might’ve picked the familiar or logical option, but now you’re allowing more spontaneity in your life, and this may even surprise you a little bit. I just heard one of your friends saying, “But you always go there!” and seeing you shrug before saying, “Well, I’m in the mood to try something new.”

This will reward you with a new sense of self. The 3 of cups traditionally has a more social meaning, like friends who see each other as equals coming together to celebrate, but for you, I could see this as different sides of yourself finally living in harmony with one another. With all of that stress gone, you’ll finally have the chance to recognise how deeply complex and interesting you are, and you’ll do so with an acceptance you may have not known you needed. “To know myself is to love myself.”

Thank you for letting me be your reader, Pile 3!

Your Channelled Song: “New Person, Same Old Mistakes” by Tame Impala

“I can just hear them now

"How could you let us down?"”

“Two sides of me can't agree”

“Feel like a brand new person… I don’t care I’m in love”

#pick a card #pac #pick a pile #tarot #tarot reading #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #divination #spirituality #witchcraft #witchblr #witches of tumblr #messages from the universe

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yourlocaldilemma · 8 months

Text

Golden thoughts {part 3} (ln4)

______________________________________________

lando norris x fem!sprinter!reader word count: 2.5k

part 3/? Part one, Part two, part three, part four

warnings: horribly translated french, jealous Charles

You turn your favourite playlist on shuffle in the background as you dance around the kitchen. You’re in a good mood. The last month had been scattered with very successful track meets and good progress in training.

Nights like these make you feel all the more content to not be looking for a relationship. Spinning around in nothing but an oversized shirt and panties, singing along to your favourite songs, cooking what you want, how you want.

You’d been independent and stubborn since the day you took your first breath, and sprinting had never changed that. Your training schedule made it difficult for you to spend time with people not that you had many people to spend time with so growing up you were on your own most of the time. Lots of people found it odd and many overstepped their bounds to tell you you should have a better social life, but you took the advice with a grain of salt. Maybe you should feel lonely, but you never did.

You’re in the middle of slicing lettuce and singing to Sabrina Carpenter when your phone vibrates. Reflexively you swipe left to clear it but pause and pull the notification back once you see who it’s from.

Charles never messages you on race weekends. You’ll text him good luck out of courtesy, completely aware that 9 out of 10 times he won’t respond until the race is well over with and he’s either drank, partied or cried the results to rest.

The Face ID lock spins before the message pops up.

The music reduces to dull thumping of a baseline as the three simple words glow on your screen.

“Hey, it’s Lando”

Even though he had left you his number that night in Australia, you hadn’t texted him or made any effort to connect with him. You had typed out a hundred different messages a hundred different times since then but couldn’t bring yourself to send them as you fought yourself mentally over why, why in gods name you even wanted to send them in the first place.

You could see that Charles, or Lando, or whoever it was, was still active on the account. If this was Charles idea of some late night joke you were going to let him have it.

“Prove it.”

Not even seconds after the message delivers your phone is vibrating, showing you your face as it prompts you to accept the video call.

Your hair is still in a high ponytail from earlier and your face makeup still looks half decent but you’re not wearing a bra, and the thin T-shirt you’ve donned does little to hide it.

You position the camera so nothing below your collarbone is visible and accept the call. Lando’s face fills the screen, looking pleased with himself like a 5 year old who just made a crayon masterpiece. You can distinguish the trademark red of a Ferrari T-shirt in the corner above him.

“Hello Y/N.” He grins like your name is the most interesting thing in the world.

“Hello Lando.”

“You never texted me. Now I’ve got a crazy Monegasque breathing down my neck like I’m trying to kill you instead of just talk to you.”

The words slip out of his mouth like it’s the most obvious and common occurrence for him to want to “just talk” with you.

“your only way of contacting me was calling me on Charles’ phone?”

“He and Arthur alike wouldn’t give me your number, instagram, or WhatsApp, because apparently they don’t trust me. Or they just doesn’t trust me with you, because for a reason conveniently explained only in French, they’re acting like they have a claim over your life right now.

He narrows his eyes and looks up at the shirt which you can now assume belong to Charles. You see his ring clad hand reach down into the frame and pinch Landos neck until the skins stripped of its colour and is left white long after he pulls his hand away.

Rubbing his neck, Lando shifts before meeting your eyes through the phone. “So this is me asking why you had a month and a half to text me, but didn’t. I thought we were best friends now.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not as he stares at you through the camera waiting for a response.

“Don’t you have a race to be preparing for?”

“Don’t even try that,” he hisses, “You know damn well that tomorrow is only free practice.”

“Lando I’m cooking dinner right now can I call you back later?”

“Call me back later on my phone, or Charles’ phone, who is now going to try to push me off the track this weekend?”

“I guess you’ll find out, won’t you sweetie.” The pet name you use sarcastically with friends slips out of habit but Landos eyes glint like diamonds and his grin widens until it looks like it hurts. He nods repeatedly like scolded child.

Charles reaches forward again, this time to take his phone.

“Jesus garde-le dans ton pantalon Y/N” *Jesus keep it in your pants

“Bon Dieu, calme-toi Charles.” *Good god calm down Charles.

“Il m'a raconté ce qui s'est passé en Australie!” *He told me what happened in Australia!

You switch to English again for Lando’s (who’s looking quite confused) convenience. “The last time I checked, it’s not a criminal offence to have dinner with someone. You’re the one who’s made it clear I should try to make more friends.”

“I didn’t mean F1 drivers.”

“Why does it bother you so much? You’re reacting like an immature toddler Charles.” He stares blankly at you, his eyes darkening into a deep amber and his neck tensing. “I have to go. Have a great night,” you deadpan before hanging up.

You fire Charles a short but supportive text after FP2 before pulling up Landos number hesitantly. Whether or not Charles is acting like he has a stick up his ass, he’s still one of your closest friends and you’d always watch race weekends.

Typing and deleting more texts then you count, you decide that, “amazing job today” seems about sufficient. It was true, Lando had done an amazing job today, setting the second fastest time across both practices.

Lando: Why hello there

Lando: would have set purple if I had my braid

Your mind runs to the interview you watched in Australia where he still had the small braid tucked into his curls. You had assumed for your own good it was an accident.

Sent: The braid huh?

Lando: I know you watched the race that weekend. I got pole, driver of the day and second place

Lando: which is basically first place because my little Maxy is in a fucking rocketship

Lando: it was cause of my braid

You can’t help but admire his innocent take on the properties of luck.

Sent: I’ve seen how hard you work. I don’t think it was the braid Lando

Lando: it was the braid. I haven’t gotten within the front 2 rows or on the podium since. Coincidence?

You’re not completely sure how to respond to his theory. Telling him it’s because dragging his car onto the podium is like trying to climb Mount Everest in stilettos, probably isn’t the best idea before FP3 and qualifying tomorrow.

Your phone vibrates again

Lando: You could come over right now and give me another one. Could use the luck tomorrow.

You smile at the message, feeling intoxicated by the determination and childlike happiness that radiates off Lando thick as honey.

Sent: I’m not coming over to your house at midnight to braid your hair Lando

Lando: tomorrow? 🥺🥺🥺

Sent: yeah we’ll see. Goodnight.

Lando: goodnight!

You fall asleep with your lips curved up into a small smile and thoughts overflowing with images of a blue eyed boy.

You’d be lying if you said FP3 went well. Charles and Carlos both went into the gravel and Landos best lap time was a full 3 seconds slower than he made in FP2.

Lando: I told you the braid was lucky

Lando: believe me now? 😛

Sent: You’ll be incredible in qualifying

Lando: location sent

Sent: what?

Lando: drivers parking lot. I’ll meet you there with a paddock pass. Then you can give me my braid

Sent: Charles will kill both of us, never mind all the press.

Lando: fuck

Lando: right

Lando: meet me here in 20 minutes then

His account then goes inactive, not giving you the chance to decline his offer. The address he sends you immediately recognize as a very expensive part of Monaco. Google maps shows it’s only a 5 minute drive but instead of trying to hail a cab in the thin streets you decide to run there.

The amount of bodies on the sidewalks makes it almost impossible to keep a solid pace as you follow the directions on your phone. The masses of bodies swirling around all seem to be going in the direction of the racetrack and it’s suffocating as the tide of people almost pulls you with them. Once you break from the crowds, the street you’re on is completely void of any human life.

A ping sounds through your headphones.

“You’ve arrived at your destination”

A large metal gate stands 100 metres down the road from you, well kept greenery and perfectly spherical bushes bordering the newly laid road. Behind the gate are multiple large flats and hints of the ocean glitter behind the white houses.

You glance around, feeling severely out of place surrounded by luxuries you don’t dare imagine for yourself. You scroll through your instagram feed leaning against a tree, liking your friends posts when you come across an old post of McLarens. It’s a picture of Lando on the podium in Australia, his tongue out and eyes squinted into the sun. Champagne covers his body and his face is printed by his balaclava. You once again see the braid you absently left in his hair. They had captioned the picture

“New tradition?”

For a fleeting moment you let yourself wonder if they’re talking about the braid or the podium before being yanked back to the present by car coming up the drive. You can only imagine it’s Lando as the car gets colder and you see it’s a McLaren. A gorgeous McLaren. You watch him reach across the car to open the passenger door. It slides upwards with a mechanical efficiency you can’t help but admire. You make eye contact with him through the windshield. He waves one of his hands toward the seat, motioning for you to get in.

The door clicks shut beside you and Lando drives a short few meters before stopping to unlock the gates.

“And you were impressed by my hotel room,” You mutter.

He laughs, eyes glittering. “Nice to see you too Y/N.” he pulls up to one of the flats. The exterior is almost completely white, excluding the huge oak door and black trimmed windows.

“Remind me what I’m doing here?”

He smiles at you with a tilt of his head, “Braiding my hair of course. Though I don’t have very long I told my team I was going to grab a hoodie.”

You can’t help but laugh, a real laugh, until small tears are forming at the corners of your eyes. Lando is smiling a small smile, watching you like there’s nothing else in the world worth watching. His eyes run over your face until you feel a blush bloom on your cheeks.

He clears his throat and unclips his seatbelt before shifting to lay his head across the low centre console, to the point where it’s almost on your lap. His curls brush your bare knees making lightning tingle on the surface of your skin. His hair is much softer than you remember it being and the curls untangle easily as you run your fingers through them before you begin to braid. Landos eyes close gently and a peaceful smile slips across his lips.

As you twist the strands around each other, it feels like the thousandth day you’ve spent time with Lando, rather than the second. It doesn’t take long to finish the braid and as you loop the elastic around the end he opens his eyes to look up at you.

“Is it weird that it feels nice when you’re braiding it?”

You smile down at him with question.

“No. You’ve never had someone play with your hair before?”

He shrugs as best he can with the awkward position he’s lying in, making no effort to sit up.

You’re barely breathing as you begin to play with his hair, terrified of overstepping, but Lando smiles contentedly and closes his eyes once more, nestling his head off the console more and further into your lap. The intamimte tension has millions of butterflies in your stomach and heat growing between your legs. When Lando lets out a soft involuntary whimper you draw the line and untangle your fingers from his curls.

“You should probably get back to the track.” You whisper. He groans, pulls himself back up into his seat, starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, one hand on the wheel and the other running over his new braid.

“Promise when the good luck works you’ll give me another one next time?” He calls after you as you climb out of the car.

“Sure.” You roll your eyes. “Pinky promise.” You stick out your little finger and he reaches across the car to meet it. His huge hand dwarfs yours as he intertwines your fingers.

He smiles at you, “It’ll work. Just you watch.”

You just grin back at him as you watch the car accelerate, the lights eventually fading away. The whole run home You’re in your head, replaying the otherworldly events that were the last 10 minutes.

When you get back to the hotel there’s still 3 long hours until Qualifying. Surveying the mess of track clothes and suitcases scattered across the room, you make the executive decision to spend the time packing for your early flight tomorrow as the sun shines bright honey light through the windows.

Lando puts it on pole.

By a whole fourth of a second. You watch the post-quali interviews with a haze of pleasant, but extreme surprise, and Landos head seems no less in the clouds than yours as he repeats the same approved script of answers to the different reporters.

Your phone vibrates less than 3 minutes after the drivers leave the media pen.

Lando: I told you

Lando: want to come over?

You can’t believe your eyes. You’d never made such fast, whatever you two were, with anyone in your life.

You know Lando can see you’re still active, and his typing bubble keeps popping up and down like he’s deciding whether or not his offer was too much.

Lando: to re-do the braid of course

Sent: You’re ridiculous.

Lando: thank you. I’ll pick you up in an hour.

#lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris blurb #f1 x reader

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sc0tters · 9 months

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Memories In a Box | Gabe Perreault

summary: four times Gabe realised that he was in love with you and the one time he did something about it.

song: nervous - Shawn Mendes

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 1.94k

authors note: I’ve never written one of these 4/5 + 1 things before so I figured what better time to try it than with the first drattee that I’ve ever written for! If you want to be apart of or see more of the celly playlist, you can find it here!

Being Wills twin sister was like a double edged sword.

Don’t be wrong, you loved your brother. The two of you had been best friends from the day you came out of the womb you were practically attached by the hip, wearing the same gender neutral clothes for the first year and a half of your life because the laugh you would let out when someone mixed the two of you up was music to your parents ears. You had been by Wills side every step of the way, every goal, every loss, and every injury was just as much of a burden on your shoulders as it was on his. What came with this though was his friends, most of them you thought were incredibly annoying as most boys in their teens were.

But Gabe didn’t seem to apply to that rule. You first met him when your parents decided to take Will and his favourite teammates out for pizza.

The younger boy had drawn the short straw of sitting next to the talkative girl with braces and her hair in messy braids as she had been running around, otherwise known as you. It seemed like he couldn’t even get a word in, not that he minded though. It was much more interesting listening to you talk about the assist that he had made “sparky shush,” Will laughed as he ruffled his hand over your head. The older of the Smith twins had gotten that nickname as a child, you seemed to enjoy sticking your fingers into electrical sockets back then.

Your face turned pink as you realised that you had been rambling “I don’t mind,” Gabe shook his head as he threw his arm around you. He had seen how the other boys acted around you and how you acted around them so by you not reacting negatively to the gesture. Gabe didn’t know if he wanted to smirk or if he needed to wipe the sweat from his hands first. That was the moment you knew he was going to be different from Wills other friends.

Your families lake house was always the highlight of your summers. It was your very own oasis, the place where peace met happiness. Your list of descriptions went on. It was your heaven on earth. Which was why you were awake early most mornings, usually just staring out at the water “you got room for one more?” Gabe called out as he leaned against the frame of the backdoor.

You spun your head around to see him “I think I can find the space,” you joked as you patted the other side of the bench.

Gabe had slept in a random pair of shorts and he hadn’t bothered to grab a shirt before he strolled down stairs, not that you minded though -him shirtless with his unmade curly hair made you feel like you had won the seventeen year old girl lottery. He joined you on the bench swing with a smile “you always out here?” The boy asked as he furrowed his eyebrows, he knew that you were always awake before everyone else but this was him getting a chance to experience it with you for the first time. Will used to joke about that bench being your our private land before 10:00am because you didn’t allow anyone -well just Will- on it with you.

Your smile was evident as you looked back out at the dock where your parents boat sat “with a view like this it’s hard not to.” What you didn’t notice was that his eyes never left you from the moment he sat down “beautiful isn’t it?” You asked as you locked eyes with him, both of your cheeks warmed at the moment.

All the hockey player could do was nod “yeah it is,” he rubbed the back of his neck as he wasn’t talking about your view then, he was talking about his view.

For your birthday your parents always went big for their twins. It was one party but you and Will almost found a way to make compromises that let you each end up happy. For your eighteenth birthday all you wanted was to have your friends over and that’s exactly what you were getting ready for “come in!” You called out as there was a knock at the door. Your curling iron was lowered as you watched the door in the reflection of your mirror.

Gabe almost stopped in his tracks “wow,” he mumbled as his eyes went wide. You had told him that you had bought a new dress for the evening but you never showed it to him, until now “you like it?” You asked as you got up to let him see it in full.

He nodded “I love it,” part of him wanted you to wrap yourself in a blanket so that nobody else could see your beauty in that way that he saw it now “you’re beautiful,” he confessed causing you to place your hand on your chest.

You’d been told plenty of times before that you looked beautiful in a piece of clothing but this was the first time that you had been called outright beautiful “you’re gonna make me ruin my makeup,” you warned as you had to stop yourself from getting emotional.

It caused the boy to laugh “well happy birthday spark,” everyone thought that his nickname for you was simply an adaptation of the one your brother had given you. But it wasn’t, Gabe called you spark because you were the spark in his life that could help him kickstart it whenever he needed it. He was the moth to your flame.

He walked over to you to hand you your present “you didn’t need to give me anything,” you reminded him as you placed what seemed like a jewellery box on your bed before you pulled him into a hug.

Gabe had ignored your request every single year from the year you met him “let me have one day to spoil you in peace.” The seriousness in his tone made you laugh as he placed a kiss to your head.

Will could be heard from outside your room “anyone know where Gabe is?” He asked causing you two to look at each other.

The hockey player brought his finger to your lips “I guess this is my cue,” he joked as he sent you a soft salute before he made his way out of your room without getting caught.

Gabe mindlessly walked through the center as he wanted to find a place to gather his thoughts “Gabe!” You cheered as you saw the boy walking in your direction.

You had Wills Sharks cap on your head as your brother had put it there during one of his interviews “hey spark,” Gabe smiled as nearly knocked him off of his feet when you hugged him.

His arms went around your waist like they were meant to be there and this was one of the first times that he truly felt at ease “blue looks good on you,” you commented as you looked at the rangers jersey that he was in.

The boys cheeks went flushed at the compliment “it’s more your colour than mine” He pointed out causing you to giggle.

It was that playful noise as your tongue ran along the inside of your cheek “I’ve always thought that dark blue looked better on me.” You explained as you reached up to take the cap off of his head to replace the one that was on your own head. The sharks cap was going to have to stay in your hand for now “you think?” You added as you ran your fingers through the ends of your hair.

Gabe swore he was going to die in that very moment “you look good in everything,” he confessed letting the compliment roll off of his tongue like it was honey.

Your freshly painted fingernails picked at the pendant of your necklace attracting the boys attention to your chest area. It was the necklace he had gotten you for your birthday “even my sweats and pjs?” The Ranger draftee had been around your family for so many years now that he had seen you multiple times when the boys would all come back to Wills place after early morning practices.

It caused him to nod repeatedly “especially those,” he would never admit it to Will -mainly because he valued the status of his life since Will would kill any body that even looked at you the wrong way- but he was now dangerously close to admitting it all to you.

Something caught your attention as it caused you to take a step back from the taller boy “there you are sparky.” Will had to admit that he was surprised to see the Rangers had that travelled from Gabe’s head to yours.

You sent your brother a smile “just been talking to Gabe about life in New York.” Your lie made sense as you had been accepted into NYU so if Gabe were to sign immediately you two would be seeing a lot more of each other.

Without the watchful eye of your brother “she can be so thoughtful sometimes can’t she?” Will asked as he was totally unaware of what was going on between you and Gabe.

Of course nothing was happening between you two but as the saying goes a picture can speak a thousand words.

Gabe had been in New York for a development camp series and the night before he was meant to head back to Boston he still hadn’t seen you. It wasn’t a lack of effort from either one of you, it was simply that you couldn’t find a time where both of your schedules had the moment available. So like any boy with a crush, he just showed up at your dorm “Gabe?” You asked as your eyes went wide. The person you thought was going to be at your door was your food delivery driver, not your brothers best friend “can I come in?” His voice was soft as his eyes looked tired.

He dropped his bag inside your dorm as he pulled you into a hug. Without seeing you for months he grew to miss your scent, your smile, your laugh, but most of all, you. It was like the second you two got into there his walls came crashing down “what’s going on with you?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at him.

Something was clearly weighing on him “I want to do something but it might be stupid.” Gabe confessed as his eyes flickered between your face and your lips.

You honestly thought you were dreaming at that point. This was the moment you had spent years waiting for, ever since you saw him in that pizza restaurant where he put his arm around you “quit taking your damn time then.” You murmured finally giving him the green light. Butterflies flew through your body as you watched him lick his lips before he nodded. Given the height difference between you two you were quick to push yourself onto your tippy toes as you kissed him. You had grown impatient and decided that you had enough of waiting for him.

The kiss was delicate, like it was a well baked cake that your mom had spent hours making.

The kiss was perfect,

Everything was perfect.

#gabe perreault #gabe perreault imagines #gabe perreault oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #imagines #oneshots #ambers 150 celly #amber writes fics

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thereaperisabitch · 4 months

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My Joel Miller's fics recs from 2023

I’ve planned to do this since before Christmas, but life caught me up, so that's why I'm here rushing to finishing this before the reveillon party. 2023 was a very tough year for me, in different ways, and this stories were my refuge and my balm during good times and bad times, so this was the way I found to honor all these incredible authors who made my life better this year.

To the authors: you guys are the most amazing and sweet people ever, I know that I'm not active as other readers and I don't reblog your works enough - and I'm sorry for that, I wish I could shower you with the praises you guys deserve.

Hope this will make up for all the comments and reblogs that I haven't give.

And to the readers who find this recs: most of these stories are series and most of them has age gap and are Joel Miller x fem/afab!reader. I won't put warnings from each fic because it would be a too long post, so click the link and read the author's warnings in each before you start to read - I'm afraid to get into fandoms because of people who give shit to authors, so please, don't be this kind of person.

Someday I'll make a part 2 of other stories that caught me up this year.

That all being said, thank you @morning-star-joy @hier--soir @frannyzooey @joelsgreys @fuckyeahdindjarin @the-ginger-hedge-witch @eupheme @bageldaddy @covetyou @theidiotwhowritesthings @atinylittlepain @imtryingmybeskar @ezrasbirdie

A stranger's heart without a home (complete)

Summary: A one night stand that later becomes a secret affair – or masterpiece of literature – all the poets and great writers ran so Doni could walk.

This is my favorite fic of all times, forever! I read and re-read it so much that I can’t even count how many times I’ve had read it, it’s my 100% comfort fic. Enemies to lovers is my favorite trope, and the way @morning-star-joy developed here it’s perfection in the most pure way.

It’s Joel on his Jackson era and it’s a perfect character development from both sides, how to people who prefer to deal things on their own learn to rely on someone else.

I also highly recommend But you know the killer doesn't understand, which it’s on-going Joel x fem! Reader also post-Outbreak in Jackson, but it’s different and addicting as ASHWAH.

A Lover’s Pinch (on-going)

Summary: a one night stand (do I have a pattern?) at the bar turns to be so much more when you discover that your fling it’s your professor at university.

The professor x student trope might be cliché for some, and by the very brief summary that I wrote above may sound like Pretty Little Liars, but @hier--soir works with those elements and creates something beyond amazing, it is like contemplate a work of art at a museum, but much better.

I’m very much obsessed with this story, that’s why I reread it with more and more frequency.

Can’t even mention the references in this story – it’s truly enriching, it makes all better, truly.

Plus: the playlist it’s amazing!!!!

Short Days, Long Nights (on-going)

Summary: Remnants of a band travelers, you and Joel find a cabin in the woods - what would be the problem with staying?

I’m crazy about this one, it’s my true love and it had 3 or 4 chapters when I started and now we’re heading to chapter 17, blessed be @frannyzooey for sustaining us with this preciosity for so long.

I'm a sucker for when there's one character (Joel) reluctant for his feelings, and if the story was only about this, I would be perfectly glad too with, too. BUT Kelli it's a genius, an amazing writer, giving me all that I didn't even knew I wanted.

It's fluff, with smut from the highest quality - with some tense moments, wich turns everything more addicting.

A Safe Haven (on-going)

Summary: Joel's quickly drawn to the vet of Jackson - even knowing she's married. Will this affair thrive? Or there's more underneath of the vet's story? (Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry for this lame summary, but I refuse to copy from your masterlist and I’m also rushing to finishing this rec today).

I was bought on the infidelity trope and the drama that comes with it. It would still be a nice story, but @joelsgreys it’s so much fucking talented that she wrote the most beautiful thing ever!

It has tooth roting fluff, drenching panties smut and heartstopping angst! All perfectly written and balanced.

I also love how Ellie it's also a crucial character for the couple's history and I really adore how she's attached to Peach.

Special mention to Fall Into Temptation and Strawberry, that lived rent free in my mind since I've read those.

Seams (on-going)

Summary: Joel pays visit to Jackson's seamstress after a trouble with his too-tight jeans – and it's only heaven from that on, won't say more.

Now I call @fuckyeahdindjarin ✨Queen of the Build Up✨ and that's because the way Cee builds up the sexual tension between characters it's undescribable.

Cee is such an excellent writer, not only in Seams but on other stories too she's gives a rich description of details that makes the reading flow better, it's like knowing you looking at gem stone.

Breakout (complete)

Summary: Boxer!Joel AU when he has to train a fuckboy who happens to date a sweet little thing.

Well I'm a fan from @the-ginger-hedge-witch for a while, she wrote one of the best Javier Peña fics ever (which turned into a book and that's fucking A-M-A-Z-I-N-G!!!) and other amazing stories, but this one got me hooked so bad.

Clearly I have a pattern because I LOVE when there is an obstacle for the characters to stay together, in this case, a relationship (I already spoiled that her boyfriend sucks, but I don't think it's spoils the story development) and Ren just atests she's a wonderful writer - now book writer, blessed be her 🙏🏻

And the idea of Joel using his fists it's already apealing, am I right?

I also recommend Friendly Fire, that I love just for knowing that in this, Ren envisioned an Aries character for reader - but also the premise of the story is great, too.

In The Woods Somewhere (complete)

Summary: living alone in a cabin at the apocalypse gets less dull when a teenager appears with a handsome injured man.

I've read this since a while, but it marked me. @eupheme created such tenderness between the characters - they know he and Ellie can't stay, which makes the affair even more apealling.

I’ll know It when I see it (on-going)

Summary: Joel as a porn star in its golden era who meets Lucky, a rising star in porn - chemestry goes beyond the cameras.

@bageldaddy deserves all the shout out forever because this here it's golden. They're both are porn stars and I could be hot just for this, but of course there's feelings involved - and the way they struggle to fight against these it's what makes this story even more perfect. Shout out to the one shot Sundown, as well, it’s completely wonderful.

Something wretched about this (complete)

Summary: Joel Miller it's a self appointed pharmacist in the QZ, and fucks you when you don't have how to pay for your father's medicine

Whoring yourself for meds sounds bad? In this story it's hot af! It's filthy, each chapter explores different sexual practices and it's THE. BEST. THING. IN. THE. WORLD!!!

@covetyou it's the most blessed being for writing a perfection like this, seriously. I loved every single chapter of this, loved Joel being an asshole and a slut. I can't tell enough how much joy this story has brought me. And lo it's better than Santa, because she provides christmas gifts for the nice and naughty, with Freeze-thaw (smut with fluff) and Baubles (smut with FILTH) - I can't die before I try the balldo, I didn't even knew this, didn't think that this could be possible - but happily it is, and this one shot it's perfect in every aspect.

Take Care of You (on-going)

Summary: Joel it's a sugar daddy in this AU and appears in your life to make all better 👀 He doesn't charges for the sexual part of the arrangement, but he's irresistible - so what will you do?

The ideia of a sugar daddy it's extremely appealing to me because that's all I wanted, you know? Some rich hot guy telling me I don't need to work and paying everything to me - that's living! Okay jk, but I started reading this when things caught up badly at work, so it was a sweet refuge.

@theidiotwhowritesthings it's the perfect writer! It's the perfect slow burn that makes you thirst for more and more!

Apothecary (complete)

Summary: Summary: Joel falls in love with the "witch" from Jackson and it has its perks and struggles.

I LOVE Practical Magic, it's one of my favorites witch movies so to read something inspired on that it's great -but @atinylittlepain it's such a wonderful, talented, amazing writer - so we were all blessed with this masterpiece.

It has fluff, angst, smut - stupid people being scared about what they don't understand and etc. It's very sweet, Joel also doesn't understands about her, but can't help being drawn. And Ellie it's a natural, their relationship here, how they grow to be a family ... it's utterly sweet. Special mention to Only Lovers Left Alive (another movie that I LOVE), The Heyloft and the masterpiece Down to The Ankles (it's perfection and it's inspired in Bones and All, other film that I truly love).

Come home (on-going)

Summary: when you've lost everything and everyone, you reach to Jackson - and meets a ruggedly handsome who you can't help being drawn to.

I've read this for a while, as well, but I still think about this story often. It's a slow burn - which I love (in case you haven't noticed from the stories listed above) - and it's so sweet, the blossom of a friendship that turns to more, their relationship with Ellie ... It's been a while since it was uptaded and I hope @imtryingmybeskar it's okay, because this story it's lovely and I really wish to see and ending for them.

Catalyst

I'm gonna just summarize that it's a threesome with Joel and Frankie Morales from Triple Frontier, that's it - if that ain't reason enough for you to read, idk man.

I didn't even knew that I wanted it, that I needed it - until I read it. I find threesomes hot af, but I don't tend to enjoy when it's with characters that I love too deeply - don't ask me why - but in THIS ONE, GOD FUCKING DAAAAAMN!

It has filth, of course, but there's also fluff - which I find inevitable when it's about Frankie. In the chapter Here, especially, @ezrasbirdie builds perfectly of the struggles that I imagine for a threeway relationship, reading it was sad, hot and lovely.

Hope all the links work, 'cause I don't have time to check now 🙃

Sorry if my comments felt weird, if I forgot to mention something, as I've said above, I intend to make a part 2 of recs someday soon (hopefully).

I wish everyone a happy new year 🎆🥂🎇

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sagesolsticewrites · 1 month

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Heat Wave

It’s the hottest summer Iowa’s had in a while. Your husband wears shorts. It gets even hotter.

Shoutout to Winnie (@winniemaywebber) for making yet another incredible playlist for this fic!

Warnings: mature content (dom/sub dynamics (sub!Harry, dom!Mrs.Crosby (you’re Jean, bc of course who else would you be?)), thigh riding, thigh biting 👀, teasing, praise kink, orgasm denial, this whole thing is roleplay “punishing” Harry for sleeping with Sandra), swearing, mentions of cheating (but not really bc there was a war on come on y’all; Mrs. Crosby in this fic has canonically forgiven him for it, this is just a way for them to have some fun), definitely some historical inaccuracies in here, and ofc including a whole separate warning for Anthony Boyle’s thighs <3 (this is an 18+ fic!! minors begone!!)

Word count: 1.5k

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.

Masterlist

It was June 1946, and it was the hottest summer in Iowa since the war had started.

You and Harry had opened all the windows in the house, hoping to let in some semblance of a breeze, but the air remained stagnant and stifling. You had resorted to foregoing a dress entirely, wearing the thinnest slip you had and simply praying that no one came to call on the two of you in your little house in the middle of nowhere, while your Bing had stripped down to just a pair of shorts and his undershirt, the glass of iced tea in his hand dripping condensation onto his bare thigh.

You can’t help but track the drop as it follows a path down the inside of your husband’s thigh to seep into the fabric of the worn armchair he’s currently collapsed in with his legs spread wide; the heat outside matching the building heat in your core as you take in his underdressed state.

He catches you staring with a knowing glint in his eye, setting his drink aside on the coffee table.

“Something I can help you with, Mrs. Crosby?”

Normally you would play coy, but something about the oppressive heat and the way your husband is sprawled out in that chair makes you want to try a different tactic.

“As a matter of fact there is, my darling Bing,” you purr, slinking over to his chair.

He eagerly leans up for a kiss, but you swerve, brushing gentle kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, his jaw… everywhere but his lips, where he really wants you.

Understanding dawns on his face, and his eyes fill with heat as he realizes it’s going to be one of those days.

“Honey, please,” he whines softly, a gasp escaping him as you trace up the inside of his thigh with one neatly manicured nail.

His hips buck up towards your hand, but you pull away quickly.

“Uh-uh,” you scold softly, tilting his chin up with two fingers so his eyes meet yours, “Not yet, sweetheart.”

He nods obediently, pretty brown eyes wholly enraptured by you.

“Good boy,” you murmur, brushing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before moving to kneel between his legs.

A soft whimper escapes your husband at the molten look you shoot him as you brush featherlight kisses up the inside of each of his thighs, his hands clenching around the armrests as he resists the urge to forcibly put you where he wants you.

You hear his breath catch as your mouth reaches the spot where his thigh and hip meet, still covered by his shorts, followed shortly by a desperate whine as your lips trace the same path back down his leg.

“No, sweetheart,” you murmur, punctuating it with a nip to the flesh of his thigh, “You were very bad when you were gone, remember?”

Your nails grazing lightly down his other thigh prompts a soft, gasping “Yes, yes, I remember.”

You reward him with a soft kiss to where your teeth just were, continuing.

“So, you don’t get to cum until I’ve decided you’ve made it up to me, ‘kay honey?”

He nods.

“Need your words, sweetheart.” You prod gently.

“I understand,” he breathes, desperation coloring his voice.

“Good boy,” you praise, and you descend.

You gently dig your teeth into the flesh of his thigh once more, nibbling and sucking a path along both of his thighs, peppering in gentle kisses as you go.

Your toes curl, wetness pooling between your legs at the soft whimpers, moans, and gasps that your husband is making above you.

Satisfied with the series of pretty purple marks decorating his flesh, you scatter several soft kisses across his skin before you stand, letting your slip hit the floor.

Bing swears softly as he takes in the sight of you, one hand creeping towards the prominent bulge at the apex of his thighs.

You raise a stern eyebrow, leaning over to tap his hand once.

“No touching,” you scold softly as he jerks his hand back to grip the armrest, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

“‘M sorry, honey, I just… you’re so pretty…”

“Being sweet to me won’t make me go easier on you, my love,” you murmur, though part of you melts at the compliment.

Your husband lets out a soft groan of “oh, Christ,” as you shed your panties and move to straddle his leg, slowly sinking down onto his broad quadricep.

You pull his face towards you, two fingers under his chin, to breathe against his lips.

“Remember,” you say, taking in his pretty eyes, pupils blown wide as you slowly rock back and forth on his leg, “You don’t get to cum until I say so.”

He nods frantically, a strangled “Yes” his only response as you begin to grind against him in earnest.

You can’t quite bring yourself to stifle your moans at the feeling of your core gliding along Harry’s bare thigh, and your husband’s already darkened eyes turn almost black at the sound.

“F-fuck, honey, you feel so good,” you gasp against his lips, praise tumbling from your lips as tension builds just below your belly, “Being so good for me, letting me use you like this—”

Your husband lets out a strangled moan, knuckles turning white from how hard he’s gripping the chair.

“Honey… Honey, please let me cum,” he whines after several minutes of your agonizing teasing, his breath hot on your mouth, “Haven’t I been good? I don’t—” he cuts off with a pleading groan as your nails rake down his back, your pace increasing.

“Fuck, I don’t know if I can last much longer, honey, please.”

One of your hands comes up to grip his hair at the roots, dark curls deliciously soft under your fingers. You murmur against his lips as he lets out a soft hiss, “Make me cum first, baby, and then I might let you.”

He moans into your mouth, flexing his thigh against you and causing you to gasp at the new angle.

“Oh, Christ, just like that, honey,” you groan, grinding desperately against him, a stuttering moan escaping you as you stammer “I’m— ‘m gonna—”

You muffle your cry in his neck as you reach your peak, grinding slowly against him as you ride out your climax.

Harry whimpers in your ear as your leg brushes his bulge.

“Sweetheart— please, can I—?”

“Yes, honey,” you say, pulling him into you for a heated, open-mouthed kiss as your hand dives into his shorts to wrap around his length, “Did so, so good for me, you can let go now, baby”

It only takes a few pumps, your hand slick with the precum leaking from his tip, before he’s spilling into your hand with a cry.

The two of you catch your breath, foreheads pressed together.

“Wow, sweetheart,” Harry says, huffing out a laugh.

You giggle, pulling him in for a kiss that you can’t help smiling into.

“It wasn’t too much, right?” You ask, pulling away to scan his face for any hint of unease.

“Not at all, honey,” your husband assures you with a sweet kiss to your forehead, reaching to pass you a rag sitting on the table so you can clean your hand off.

You stand, sliding your slip back on before settling in next to him, one arm wrapping around your shoulders and tucking you in close.

“So,” Harry says, a cheeky grin lighting up his face, “Have I made up for it yet, my love?”

You pretend to think for a moment, a smirk on your face as you reply.

“For now, honey. For now.”

A quiet moment passes, and you turn to press your lips to his shoulder in a gentle kiss.

“You know I’m not really upset about what happened when you were gone,” you say softly, fingers tangling with his, “right, honey? I know things were tough, things were… unspeakably bad, and you were doing what you had to do to stay sane so you could get through it and come back to me.”

Your husband lets out a soft sigh, squeezing your fingers with a smile at the reassurance that’s become routine after moments like these.

“I know, sweetheart. I—” His voice goes soft, gratitude seeping into every word as he traces your jaw with his fingertips, eyes tracing over your features as if he still can’t believe you’re real, “I thought about you every day when I was over there. I missed you so, so much.”

You lean into his touch. In the months he’s been home, you still haven’t been able to get enough of him being here, being able to touch you, and you in turn being able to touch him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, angel.”

#this is called Biting Bing in an alternate universe iykyk #this is quite literally the spiciest thing I’ve ever written I hope y’all liked it fjskfhdj #also this was literally written in less than 12 hours??? um??? anthony boyle what have you done to me 🫠#harry crosby #harry crosby x reader #masters of the air #masters of the air x reader #mota fic #anthony boyle #anthony boyle x reader #my writing

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