#but i think it's fine as long as you don't act on it
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Hii! I've never requested but I can't get this idea out of my mind..
So basically Felix and reader have been college roommates for a year or two but Felix ends up falling for them and has to tell them cos it’s only a few months till graduation.
Totally understand if you can't do it, but thought I'd ask!
everglow
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𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉𝒾𝒸𝓊𝓁𝒶𝓇 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓂𝓸𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓮𝓍𝓉𝓇𝒶 𝓈𝓅𝓮𝒸𝒾𝒶𝓁
your best friend and roommate is acting especially sentimental tonight. you try to get to the bottom of it
pairing: felix × gn!reader
wc: 6.3k
content: college au, friends to lovers, feelings realization, shy felix, oblivious reader, they're nerds, fluff, light angst, crying?, pouty lix, kissing, mildly suggestive?, hopeful ending
a/n: my first fulfilled request?? i apologize if this was sitting in my inbox for forever.. i wasn't planning on writing a whole thing but then suddenly. i had an epiphany. ty for helping me out of writers block anon 🫶 i hope this is kinda how you were envisioning it!
[also read on ao3]
—
Your college dorm is a familiar sight, the mess of papers and coffee cups giving away the fact that the end of the year is fast approaching. You've been sharing this space with Felix for the past couple years, both of you working hard to keep your grades up and—hopefully, somehow—graduate?
…You're sure it'll be fine. As long as you do well enough on your capstone project, which is why you're sitting at Felix's desk, dutifully researching. Sometimes you take to his room when you need a change of scenery or just want company; though it's just you right now as Felix had to leave for class earlier.
You're just about to take a stretch break when you hear the front door open and soon enough, Felix trudges into the room. “Still here?” he says when he sees you.
“Unfortunately.” You set your things down and look over at him with a long sigh to convey your exhaustion.
“Dude, same,” he groans, tossing his bag on the floor before flopping down on his bed. “I don't think I've ever been so fucking tired in my life. Why did I pursue higher education again?”
That gets you to laugh a little. “Maybe for some kind of high-paying job and… a sense of accomplishment?” you suggest.
He lets out another groan, rolling over on his side. “But at what fucking cost? Sleep deprivation and a caffeine addiction?” He looks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Remind me why I'm doing this again.”
You get up and walk over to his bed, sitting down on the edge next to him, a playful smile on your face. “Well, I seem to recall someone who said they wanted to be some hot shot computer engineer.”
He props himself up on one elbow to face you. “Ooh, you think I'm hot?” he says, wiggling his eyebrows.
You give him a look that hopefully conveys how much of an idiot you think he is. “Hot shot, dumbass.”
…Still, it would be dishonest to disagree: your roommate is attractive. Anyone with a working set of eyes can see that.
“Ohh, I see. You think I'm hot shit?”
You roll your eyes so far back it almost hurts. “As if you don't hear that enough.”
He grins, clearly amused and clearly not above shamelessly fishing for compliments. “Oh, but it's so much more fun to hear it from you,” he teases, leaning back against his pillow.
You give him a withering glare but he just reaches out and pats the spot next to him on the bed. “Come sit down.”
You raise an eyebrow at him. “I am literally sitting down.”
“Okay, well, closer, genius.”
You sigh exaggeratedly, but you humor him anyway, scooting over closer to where he's lounging on the bed. You thought that was enough, but this is Felix, and you should have known better. He reaches out and grabs your wrist, gently but firmly tugging you down next to him.
He shifts so he's on his side facing you and grins, clearly satisfied. His hair is messy and there's a hint of dark circles under his eyes, but he still manages to look unfairly attractive.
You shake your head at his antics and let out a long sigh. “Well… You've already made it this far, you know,” you tell him. “Only a few months left of dealing with school, and then you're done.”
“...Yeah.”
He's quiet for a moment, his gaze drifting across your face, a hint of something almost like melancholy in his eyes.
“Why am I kinda sad, though?” he finally asks with a chuckle.
You blink. “Sad? About being done with school?”
He nods. “I mean, I want to be done, god, believe me I do, but…” He blows out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I dunno, it just doesn't feel as good as I expected it to. And I'm…” He pauses, clearly thinking his words over.
“I'm… gonna miss this, honestly. A lot.”
“This?” You gesture around the room. "You're going to miss this? Our tiny-ass, overpriced apartment?"
He laughs at that. “Not this place, I guess.”
“Then? The constant lack of sleep? Exams? The shitty cafeteria food?”
“Please,” Felix scoffs before taking a deep breath, looking somewhere behind you. “I'm… going to miss this." He looks back at you and pokes your shoulder for emphasis. “This. Us living together. Hanging out all the time. I'm going to miss that.”
You blink, a little taken aback at his earnestness. “Oh,” you say intelligently. “Yeah. I…”
You try to ignore the way your heart is suddenly in your throat. In truth, you've been doing your best not to think about it, how things will inevitably change after graduation.
“I mean…” you start. “It's not like we're never going to see each other again or something. We'll keep in touch, right?” But even as you say it, you feel yourself deflating. It’s not the same.
His expression reflects yours, his smile soft but a little sad around the edges. “...Of course we will.” He sounds like he's saying it as much to himself as he is to you.
He's silent for another moment, his fingers gently running over the blanket, not quite meeting your gaze.
“It won't… be the same though,” he says, mirroring your own thoughts. “Like— you know? I'm gonna miss the convenience store we always go to at 2AM, I'm gonna miss our late-night study sessions and the shitty coffee you make, I'm gonna miss how you always use up the hot water in the shower and your annoying alarm waking me up at fuck-ass in the morning—” He suddenly cuts off, a flush rising in his cheeks.
He turns on his back again, slinging an arm over his eyes. “Ugh, I don't know, just shut up and let me wallow in my feelings.”
You're honestly a little speechless. All that, things he claims are annoying — he's going to miss it all that much?
“Hey,” you say gently, nudging his shoulder. “Hey, you sap, look at me.”
“No. I'm wallowing.”
You roll your eyes. “I can see that.” You poke his arm. Then again, harder. “Come on, look at me.”
Felix huffs dramatically, lowering his arm and turning his head to look at you from the corner of his eye. “What? I’m looking.”
Your heart clenches at the sight of him. He's pouting, looking a little petulant but still so endearingly cute, and you can definitely see the hint of embarrassment in his gaze as he peeks at you.
You let a smile spread across your face. “You're gonna miss me.”
Felix averts his gaze, his cheeks going a little pinker. “I mean, a little, I guess,” he mumbles, before letting out a heavy, dramatic sigh. “Ugh, why are you looking at me like that? Don't let it go to your head or anything.”
It's so obvious that it's more than just a little — but you decide not to call him out on it. Instead, you lean forward, propping yourself up with one arm. “Too late,” you tease, grinning widely. “You're gonna miss me so much.”
He groans, throwing his forearm over his eyes again. "Whatever. Shut up.”
You look at him silently for a moment, taking in his flushed face and his messy hair. God, he's so cute. You've always been aware of how pretty he is, but there's something about seeing him like this, completely unguarded and vulnerable, that's making your lungs feel tight.
You clear your throat awkwardly, shifting your gaze away from him. “Hey, come on, cheer up.”
“No,” he says, still hiding his face behind his arm. “I'll just lay here and wallow and die."
“So dramatic,” you chide, poking his side roughly, trying to distract yourself from your own thoughts. You're starting to feel a little flustered too.
He whines at the contact, swatting at your hand, but you notice he hasn't moved his other arm away from his face. “Ow, hey, violence,” he complains, curling away from your fingers. “Ow, ow, dude—”
You reach out and grab his wrist, pulling his hand away from his face. He lets out a half-hearted protest, but doesn’t get the chance to resist.
Oh. His eyes are shining.
You freeze.
He's pouting again, but it's less childish now and more vulnerable, embarrassed. For a moment you just sort of stare, suddenly hyper-aware of how close the two of you are. His face is so close, so pretty, and your heart is doing something strange, beating rapidly in your chest.
“You’re—” You clear your throat, struggling with what to say. You… hadn’t realized how much this was impacting him.
He looks away and blinks hard, but his eyes are still a bit misty, unshed tears stubbornly sticking to his eyelashes. “Sorry. I'm being stupid,” he finally says, his voice a little quiet. “Ignore me, I'm just being weird, it's—” He swallows. “...I'm tired.”
Oh, god. You've been joking and teasing and making fun, but now you just feel like the biggest jerk, because he's actually really upset about this.
“Wait, no,” you murmur, suddenly serious. “No, it’s not— You're not being stupid. I—” You're having a lot more trouble than usual forming coherent sentences.
Your hand is still around his wrist, your fingers pressing against his pulse point. You squeeze it lightly. “It's okay.” You can feel the rapid beating of his heart, in contrast to the rest of him lying completely still. “It's not stupid. I’m— I'm gonna miss you too, idiot.”
He lets out a wet sounding laugh at that, rolling his eyes, but he doesn’t pull his arm away from your grip. “So mean,” he says. “Do you have to insult me to say nice things?”
“Well, yeah.”
The corners of his mouth twitch and you feel a bit of relief that you've managed to cheer him up a little.
“But you mean it?” He looks up at you with a shy expression. “You're gonna miss me?”
“Of course,” you say, suddenly struck by how much you mean it. “Yeah, I am. A lot.”
He lets out a low breath, eyes flicking over your face. “Yeah?” he says quietly.
It's silent for a moment. Felix is still looking at you, a little shyly, and it's driving you a little crazy. He sighs, his brow pinched slightly, like he’s struggling with some internal conflict. You wait patiently, giving him space to express what he wants to say.
But he doesn't. Just averts his eyes and blinks harshly at the wall behind you.
“Please don't cry or I'll start crying too,” you say with a bit of a nervous laugh.
Felix lets out a shaky breath. “...I’m not going to cry.”
You give him a look.
“I’m not,” he insists, using his free hand to rub his eyes. “I have allergies or something, I just— I—”
He hesitates, clearly trying to gather his thoughts.
“Okay, look,” he sits up, pulling his wrist free from your grip and taking a deep breath. “It's just— I…” He stops, running a hand through his hair nervously.
“Felix?” you ask, sitting up too. You're starting to get a little concerned. Why is the mood suddenly so weird?
He groans, burying his face in his hands, his voice muffled when he speaks. “This is embarrassing.”
It doesn't help your concern. “What’s embarrassing?” you ask carefully, trying to keep your voice steady.
“This,” he mutters, still hiding his face.
You hesitate a moment, not really knowing what to do, before tentatively reaching out and touching his arm. “Um… It's fine, you can talk to me.”
He lets out a frustrated breath before finally looking at you. “You’re not gonna like it.”
Oh. “Well… Did you… like, kill someone or something?”
Felix stares at you for a moment, clearly trying to keep a straight face but his lips twitch a little. “No, I didn’t kill anyone, you psychopath,” he says dryly.
“Okay, well, good,” you say, clearing your throat. “No illegal activities? The government isn't after you?”
“I… No,” he says slowly.
This conversation is taking a bizarre turn. “And you're not, like… secretly an alien sent to spy on humans this whole time? And… now you have to return to your home planet to plot the annihilation of Earth?”
That finally gets Felix to laugh. “You're— you're a fucking idiot,” he says through giggles. “Seriously.”
“I’m just checking,” you say, crossing your arms. “You're being all weird and shit and…” you gesture vaguely. “Maybe you're an alien. I don't know.”
That only sets him off giggling again. “Oh my god,” he says, leaning his forehead on your shoulder, his body shaking with laughter. “Why are you so dumb.”
You roll your eyes, just relieved to see him smile. He's much more relaxed now, the mood in the room lifted with his laughter. All part of your plan. You're more than happy to appear ridiculous if it means seeing him laugh.
He finally stops laughing, though he’s still smiling a little as he lifts his head and looks at you. He’s much closer than you anticipated, and you try not to be too distracted by the freckles around his eyes and the way his eyelashes flutter when he blinks as his gaze flicks across your face. He’s looking at you intently, and the air in the room feels charged, electric almost.
“You…” he starts, but hesitates, cutting himself off with a shake of his head. “Why are you so dumb,” he repeats.
Wow. “Now who's being mean?” you pout.
He laughs again, but it’s softer than before, a shaky, nervous sound. “God, I— this is so stupid, I—”
He lets out a frustrated breath, staring directly into your eyes, his expression intense and focused. “How do you not notice,” he mutters under his breath.
You’re frozen under his gaze, your heart suddenly in your throat. “Notice… what?”
Felix closes his eyes. “Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.”
What? “It seems like it matters since you’re…”
He opens his eyes again, looking a bit pained as he looks at you. “Just… just forget it.”
You don’t know what to say. You can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest, your hands shaking slightly. “Uh… okay,” you say. “Sorry for… being dumb…?”
He grimaces. “No, I didn't mean it like—”
He lets out a long, heavy breath, shaking his head. Then he reaches out and takes your hand, his fingers brushing against your wrist.
His voice is quieter when he speaks, looking down, idly playing with your fingers. “Just… you’re supposed to notice,” he mumbles, almost to himself. “It’s supposed to be obvious.”
You stare at him, confused and flustered and… honestly, a little distracted by how he's touching your hand. “What's… uhh, what?” Everything feels like it's too much all of a sudden, and your chest is really starting to do something weird.
He sighs. “Nevermind. Seriously.”
There's a moment of silence before he speaks again. “When we graduate,” he starts. “...Which I guess is really soon, huh.”
The way he says it makes your chest pang painfully. He’s still not looking at you. “I won’t see you anymore…” he murmurs, his voice so quiet you can barely hear him.
You grab his hand, stopping him from fiddling with your fingers, and squeeze gently. “Hey,” you say. “C’mon, it’s not like that.”
He huffs out a bitter laugh. “Isn't it, though?”
It kind of feels like you’ve been punched in the gut. This isn't like him, he's usually the one full of sunshine and optimism, reassuring you. But right now, the defeat in his voice is palpable.
The reality of the situation starts sinking in. Time’s almost up.
“Felix,” you say quietly, and he finally lifts his eyes up from his lap to look at you. His eyes are watery again.
He swallows, his voice breaking a little as he speaks. “Sorry, I’m being… I’m being unfair, I just…” He hesitates before continuing. “I don’t want to not see you.”
You frown, tears pricking your eyes now too. You don't trust your voice to speak, throat feeling tight and uncomfortable.
“And you’re just… so oblivious,” he continues, his finger tracing over your knuckles. “So stubborn, and dumb, and you’re probably the most annoying person I’ve ever met in my life and I seriously cannot believe I like—”
He cuts off suddenly, slapping a hand over his mouth.
Wait.
“Felix,” you murmur, and his eyes dart up to meet yours, a little panicked. He tries to jerk his hand away from yours, but you hold on tighter, keeping him in place.
“Felix,” you repeat, your skin buzzing from the way he’s looking at you. “You can’t just… leave me hanging like that.”
He looks away, face a brilliant crimson red. “Yeah, I can.”
You almost want to laugh. You didn’t realize he could be so shy, but you can’t focus on that now, because your heart is racing and you can’t tell if you’re going to pass out, or pass away.
“No, you can’t,” you say shakily. “When are you gonna tell me? At the commencement ceremony?”
He lets out a half-choked, almost hysterical sort of laugh, keeping his head turned away so he doesn’t have to look at you. “Yeah, something like that.”
He has to be joking. “That’s months away!”
“And?”
You shake your head, feeling dizzy. “I’m not gonna wait that long, are you insane?”
He huffs and glares at you, pouting. “Oh, well I’m sorry, would you just rather I shout it from the fucking roof tops then? Hey, everyone, I’ve been in love with my best friend since freshman year!”
What.
You blink, stunned speechless, your eyes wide.
Your mind is spinning, the air in the room suddenly too thick to breathe. The words in love keep ringing in your ears, over and over again.
“You— you what?” you manage to get out, feeling a little faint. You must not have heard him correctly. You're hallucinating, or having a stroke or… something. He can't actually mean—
Felix winces. “...Fuck.” he mutters, dropping his head into his hands.
“Oh my god,” you whisper, brain still struggling to catch up to the situation. You’re still processing that he said the word love, when the last few words register.
“Wait— freshman year?” you say incredulously. “You’ve— since—?”
He’s clearly trying to act somewhat composed but the bright red on his ears betrays him. “Um. Yeah. Shut up. Stop talking,” he says, voice muffled from behind his hands.
You think about the past few years of your life, every interaction with him, and it’s like everything suddenly clicks into place.
The way his ears turn pink whenever you compliment him. The way you could always get under his skin so easily. You think about every time he got defensive, or huffy, or pouty at something innocuous you did or said.
…The way he's never really shown interest in anyone, despite the plenty of interest shown his way. The countless people he's turned down, for seemingly no reason. When you'd questioned him about it, he'd just laughed awkwardly and said he preferred to focus on his studies.
“Oh my god,” you say again.
Felix groans and hides his face further, his ears practically on fire. “Stop. Don't,” he mutters. “It's okay. Just… pretend you never heard that, okay, it's fine—”
“No.”
It’s silent for a moment, Felix still hiding his face, and your mind still swirling with thoughts.
You kind of want to kiss him.
The realization is sudden, but not entirely unexpected. It’s not really a surprise, honestly, just another thing that feels natural. Maybe because deep down, of course somewhere along the line you've developed feelings for the person you can trust with anything, who gets you more than anyone else. Your favorite person in the world.
You’re only half in your right mind as you grab his wrists, pulling his hands off of his face.
“You ass,” you say, staring directly at him.
He looks at you with wide, panicked eyes. “I'm sorry—” he starts, but you cut him off.
“Can I kiss you?”
He chokes, eyes going even wider. He opens his mouth, then closes it, clearly caught off guard. After a moment, he manages to find his voice, though it’s very high pitched and shaky. “What?”
You take a deep breath. “Can I kiss you,” you repeat, your head feeling fuzzy, your pulse pounding in your ears.
“…What?” he asks again. His face is bright red. “Are— are you serious?”
“Do I look like I’m kidding?” you murmur, leaning even closer, your faces almost touching.
His breath catches, and his eyes dart between your eyes and your lips. “Please say you’re not,” he manages to say, voice breaking.
“I’m not,” you say, feeling a little crazy. Insane, maybe. You can’t really bring yourself to care. “Can I?”
He doesn't give you an answer, letting out an incredulous breath before grabbing the front of your shirt and yanking you forward as he falls back so you land on top of him.
You’re about to protest at the continued lack of a clear answer, but then he’s kissing you and you forget how to speak.
It's not the most graceful kiss, you’re both a little clumsy, but it’s sweet and it’s Felix and that’s all that really matters. You figure it out quickly, getting into a rhythm, and he lets out a shaky breath against your mouth, his hand moving to tangle in your hair. You feel like you’re dreaming, or drowning, or both.
Felix is kissing you. Felix is kissing you. Your closest friend. He’s in love with you, and he’s kissing you.
It makes your head spin. After several moments, you finally pull away, panting and dizzy. You feel a little delirious, staring down at him, both of you catching your breath.
His head falls back against the pillow, face turning impossibly red as he blinks at you like he’s in shock. You laugh a little and he huffs, but his eyes soften.
“So… you, uh— You— Are you—?”
You cut him off with another touch of your lips, effectively shutting him up. He instantly melts into it, tightens his grip in your hair, pulling you further into the kiss, and you can’t think straight, everything is just Felix.
After a while, you’re forced to break away again for air. Felix whines at the loss of contact, eyes half-lidded, his cheeks flushed. You only manage to get a few breaths in before he's pulling you down into another kiss, more urgently this time.
You let out a surprised noise, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. He seems to be determined to kiss you senseless, and it’s working.
He bites your bottom lip, making you gasp into his mouth. He mumbles something in response, his thigh sliding between your legs, and your brain short-circuits.
Okay. You shiver. Okay. You should probably… You manage to pull away for a much needed breath and Felix tries to chase after your mouth, but you press a hand to his chest to hold him in place.
He groans, looking frustrated, but flops back against the pillow obediently. He blinks at you dazedly, his own chest heaving, eyes half-lidded and dark, but his expression quickly morphs into a pout. “Why… Why…?” he complains, trying to tug you closer again.
You huff a weak laugh, shaking your head, and he gives you a wide-eyed look, all innocence and sweetness, and that's not fair that he can look like this after all of that.
“Just— one sec,” you somehow get out, your mind still completely overloaded. “We should… uh…”
He’s still trying to reach your mouth. “What,” he mutters, breathing heavily against your neck.
“Talk,” you manage to say, even as his lips make their way to your jaw. “We should… we need to… oh my god—”
You cut off, stifling a gasp as he sucks on your skin. “Felix,” you say, trying to be stern, but it comes out like a moan instead.
“Mm?” he hums against your ear, completely unapologetic. “You want to… talk?”
“Yeah.” It takes all your willpower to pull away, ignoring how he whines in protest. You sit up and take a moment to compose yourself, willing yourself to ignore the urge to just give in to him.
Felix flops back onto the bed, throwing his arm over his eyes as he sighs, his voice sounding a little raspy.
“Sorry,” he mutters, his ears red. “Sorry, god, I've thought about this so much, I just—”
Oh. “You’ve… thought about…? How much…?”
He makes a strangled noise and covers his face more thoroughly, voice muffled. “Oh my god,” he groans, “I'm going to fucking die. I… a lot.”
…Okay. Okay. Deep breaths. Okay.
“...How much is a lot?” you ask, unable to resist your curiosity. And maybe you want to tease him about it. Just a little.
He groans again. “So, so much. An embarrassing and pathetic amount.” He’s not even trying to hide his pouting. “Can you please not make me say the actual words.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, but the way he sounds — breathless and embarrassed — it’s honestly kind of adorable. He’s always so confident in most aspects of his life that you kind of love seeing him so flustered.
“Please… don’t,” he mumbles, peeking at you. “I’m begging you…”
He's blinking up at you, the picture of innocence once again. He glances up at you through his eyelashes, all pretty and delicate and ugh, he's absolutely doing this on purpose.
“You’re distracting,” you say weakly, staring down at him. “Stop making cute faces at me.”
He does not stop making cute faces. He tries though, lowering his hands as his face drops into a scowl. “I’m not making a cute face,” he protests.
“Yeah, you are,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “You’re doing it right now. Your pouty thing.”
He sniffs. “I'm not,” he says petulantly, though there’s a hint of mirth in his eyes. “This is just my regular face. It’s not my fault if my face is cute.”
You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay.”
He opens his mouth to respond but you cut him off with a finger, placing it over his lips. His mouth instantly snaps shut, and you can’t resist a little grin as he looks up at you with wide eyes.
You watch as he swallows, his eyes fixed on you, and, not for the first time, you’re reminded of how pretty he is. He’s always been gorgeous, in an objective sort of way, but you feel like you’re seeing him for the first time.
You move your hand away and take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You need to talk about this while you’re both still somewhat coherent, or you’ll go absolutely insane.
“So…” You’re a little pleased with how steady your voice is, considering the circumstances. “You… love me.”
Felix coughs and covers his face again. “Do you have to say it like that,” he groans, his voice muffled by his palms.
“You never… you never said anything.”
He just shrugs, still hiding his face. “I was scared to lose you,” he says with a shaky breath. “I didn’t expect you to want me back…” There's no bitterness in his tone, just disbelief.
You frown. “But you’re—” You bite your tongue. Felix was worried about you not wanting him?
You shake your head, a somewhat acrid feeling welling up inside of you. You've seen firsthand the sheer amount of attention he gets from people, from the random gifts and outright confessions and people slipping him numbers and notes everywhere he goes. There's never been a shortage of interest in him, from all sorts of people. Compared to him, you're… nothing.
“So… this whole time, you just… thought I was clueless?” You're still trying to wrap your head around it.
He sighs. “I mean, kind of,” he says, his eyes peeking through his fingers. “You’ve been completely oblivious to anyone who’s ever flirted with you.”
Including me, he doesn't say, but you're starting to put the pieces together.
You wince, your face flushing. “I’m not that oblivious,” you protest weakly. “I just… I’ve never been particularly interested in… anyone.”
Felix stares at you, one eyebrow raised.
“Like…” It's true that you've never really liked anyone very strongly in all your time at college. Some fleeting crushes here and there, but even the few people you had tried to go on dates with always felt lacking in some inexplicable way. You always felt much better as soon as you'd come home to your shared space with Felix, always feeling the most comfortable in his presence. Was that it? All this time, no one could ever compare to your best friend?
And the constant attention Felix would get… It annoyed the hell out of you. At first, you would tease him, even encourage him to give them a chance, delight in the way his face would turn bright red. But it quickly became so annoying watching him have to navigate awkward conversations, politely turn people down. Sure, a part of you was probably a bit insecure always watching him receive so much attention. At least, that's what you told yourself. But beyond that, you think you're finally starting to understand the feeling for what it is.
Jealousy.
“Oh my god.” You’re starting to realize what a mess this entire situation is. “We're both idiots.”
Felix finally drops his hands from his face, giving you a dry look. “Speak for yourself.”
"Shut up," you say absently, not even annoyed. Your head is reeling.
This is… a mess. Felix is in love with you, you’re pretty sure the feeling has been mutual for a while, and you’re both leaving this place in just a few months.
“So… you’ve never liked anyone before?” Felix asks. His tone is a bit teasing, though there's curiosity beneath.
You make a face. “Um.” Yeah, that's what you thought for the past couple years until now. How much do you reveal?
All of the puzzle pieces are clicking into place in your mind, making your head hurt even more. So much time wasted, you want to cry.
“I guess no one ever compared to you,” you say without thinking, and immediately slap your hand over your face.
“Oh.” There’s a second of silence as you both process the words.
Then, Felix starts laughing.
“Oh my god,” he mutters, struggling to contain himself, barely managing to keep his laughter under control. Your face is growing redder by the second, embarrassed and annoyed.
“Will you stop?” you whine.
“I’m sorry, I just—” he tries to get himself together, taking a deep breath before looking at you fondly. “This is the corniest fucking shit I've ever— holy shit. We're actually both stupid.”
“I told you,” you say, smacking him on the arm.
He just snickers, grabbing your wrist before you can hit him again. He pulls you so you’re half-lying on top of him again, and you can feel his shoulders shaking as if he’s trying to keep from bursting out into another fit of laughter.
You let your head fall against his chest with a huff, still annoyed even as he wraps an arm around you, his hand rubbing against your back.
“You jerk,” you mutter.
He hums, sounding amused. “You love me.”
You go rigid, and he starts to laugh again, obviously enjoying the fact that he found an easy way to fluster you.
“Shut up,” you grumble weakly, burying your face against him.
It isn't fair. He’s had time to fully realize it, years apparently. He’s had time to process everything. Meanwhile, you feel like you’ve been completely blindsided.
He finally stops laughing and you’re both quiet for a few moments. You can hear his heart drumming loud in his chest.
“Wow,” he says suddenly. “We could have avoided a lot of stress if we realized earlier.”
You let out a snort of semi-hysterical laughter. “I know,” you agree, before pausing and wincing. “Oh god, I can't believe we've been… that we've been living together…”
“Yeeeahh… That's been torture by the way,” he says conversationally, as if he's discussing the weather, and your cheeks flare up.
“...Torture?”
He squeezes your side. “Are you kidding? Have you seen yourself every day? Every time you wear my jacket, or… anything? Wearing those hoodies on movie nights—”
“I get it,” you cut him off, your face absolutely burning. “I get it, I’m—”
“Stupid?” he offers helpfully. “Oblivious? Cute?”
“...You never said anything,” you say weakly in an attempt to defend yourself.
“I wasn't going to make things awkward,” he protests. “Can you imagine if I’d actually said anything and you just… what? Said no? And then we have to keep living together like normal?”
You bite your lip, trying to suppress the guilt stirring in your stomach. You can’t even begin to imagine what it's been like from his perspective.
“...Sorry.” You shift so you can actually look at him, but he won’t meet your eyes, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as he pouts.
“You really didn't notice?” he asks, finally looking at you. “Even a little?”
“No.” You feel a frustrated sort of laugh bubbling up. “We’ve been so stupid. We could’ve… we’ve wasted so much time, years—”
“Hey, hey,” he interrupts, seeing your expression, sitting up and gently placing his hand on your cheek, and you stop abruptly. “It doesn’t matter,” he says reassuringly. “We have time, okay? Plenty of time.”
You’re still struggling with the whole situation, trying to process everything as you stare at him. “But… we’re graduating.”
He gives you a small, unsure smile. “Yeah. We are.”
"And… I don't even know where I'm going. We could be—”
“Hey.” He cuts you off, placing a finger gently on your lips, and you bite your tongue, looking down at him. “Stop worrying so much. We’ll figure it out, okay?”
You try to take a deep breath and he leans forward until his forehead is touching yours.
Your mind is still racing, your entire universe is completely tilted, and you’re not entirely sure how to deal with any of it. But Felix is close and his hand is still on your cheek and…
And you want to focus on that instead, ignore everything else for now.
“Yeah?” you say weakly, your eyes fluttering shut.
“Yeah,” he says, his voice a little more firm, and he brings his other hand up to cup your face.
“For now,” he continues, his breath warm against your skin. “Let’s just…” He lets out an unsteady laugh, his hands still gently framing your face. “Can we just…”
Your entire body feels a little shaky. You lean forward a bit, closing the distance, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
“Yeah,” he breathes before slanting his mouth against yours.
It’s not very decorous. You’re both a little desperate, a little uncoordinated, trying to make up for years of lost time.
It’s messy and you can feel that he’s still a little nervous — as are you — but he's also determined. He pulls you closer, one of his hands sliding into your hair, tugging gently in a way that makes you gasp into his mouth.
Then he suddenly pulls back after a few moments, laughing when you whine pathetically in protest.
“Shh, hang on,” he says, slightly out of breath, and you open your eyes dizzily.
“...What?” you complain.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “I… I just remembered that I…”
You watch, utterly befuddled, as he pushes against your shoulders so he can sit up. He gently lifts you off of him, answering your whine of protest with a quick kiss before his hand drifts away from your face, reaching for his phone.
You try to grab at him. “What are you doing—”
He laughs and dodges out of your reach. “Just gimme a second,” he says, turning his phone on as he settles back on the bed.
You sit there, feeling dazed and frustrated as he taps at his phone, his attention focused on the screen. After a few moments, he finally seems to finish what he’s doing, putting his phone down with a satisfied hum.
When he meets your eyes, he just looks amused at your expression. “Sorry, sorry,” he says with a grin, moving closer to you again.
“What was so important,” you pout.
“I was meant to meet with my group mates for our project tonight,” he says. “So, I told them I'm feeling sick.”
Your eyebrows shoot up. “Felix.”
He has the audacity to just smile innocently, already shifting so he can push you down against the sheets.
“What?” he says casually, hovering over you, his hands coming to rest on your waist. “I wasn't gonna be able to focus anyways.”
“Oh.” You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks again. “Is… that really okay…?”
“Don't worry,” he says, leaning down and pressing a light kiss into your neck. “I practically carry them anyway, they can live without me for one night.”
You swallow, feeling his hands slide up your arms, his touch leaving a trail of sparks along your skin. “Okay,” you agree, completely distracted now, your thoughts hazy.
“Mhm.” He sucks on a sensitive spot on your collarbone and you let out a shaky exhale. “Can we focus on something else right now?”
You nod. He moves up to kiss you and you know, with him, you'll figure out whatever comes next.
For now, that's enough.
—
a/n: me, a mech eng major.. ofc i had to make felix a fellow engineer. nerds 4 life (do not study engineering i crave death every moment)
also yes title is the coldplay song bc im actually uncreative as hell and name everything after songs. how do ppl come up with titles (T_T) but anyway since it's one of felix's fav songs i thought it was especially fitting 🤍
tysm for reading 🫶
#how sappy can i possibly be#turns out. very#definitely not my best work but i think its ok and i wanted to just get the gears turning again!#officially out of rosy series era. how does it feel#skz fic#skz fanfiction#felix#felix smut#felix fic#felix fluff#felix fanfic#lee felix fluff#felix x male reader#skz felix#felix x reader#stray kids x reader#felix imagines#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#skz fanfic#lee felix#lee felix smut#lee felix fic#lee felix x reader#everglow
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Seeing alot of discourse so, I'm gonna say something about all the characters i can remember myself, to try n lighten the mood!
Sam would use a LOT of emojis when texting. i mean Look at him. he also gets very insecure about how he comes across after sending texts.
sebastians bong no longer exists because he kept smoking up his room and it got confiscated because just walking in could render someone high.
I think Abigail could probably bake decently! no clue if its been said otherwise or not, i just think she would be able to. she also would be an amazing reptile/bug parent, please give our homegirl a katydid to care for.
Robin, she's a decent cook but theres some things she absolutely can't make. she's sometimes tasteblind and thats fine. Also no doubt, but she smells like burnt wood constantly.
Demetrius can bake, really well for some reason, but he also sucks at certain baking activities. he's also judges food very bluntly, if he dislikes it, you'll know, BUT if he realized he upset you, he'll try and give you tips on how to improve it.
Maru, she also likes motorcycles like Sebastian does, but she'd rather put one together than buy one. it's just more interesting in the long run.
Jodi, I don't know much about her. but I can definitely see her giving tips and stuff when she can to other parents in town.
Kent, I really think he'd like oatmeal raisin cookies? I also don't know much about him, i love oatmeal raisin cookies myself. i think he'd like cross stitching, even if he isn't good at it.
Pam, I think she and Willy hang out on occasion to fish together, chat about old times because it makes her happy, i also don't think she gets on well with alot of the other townsfolk in recent times since she seems to be quite self isolated like her own daughter. so the times she does talk with others can lighten her day, She also has a habit of being abit rude to those she cares for in a joking manner.
Willy! That man and Clint are friends, Good friends! though I don't think Willy is on bad terms with Anyone. besides being annoyed with lewis sometimes, but he still cares for him. something tells me he likes knitting scarfs and mittens. but thats when he isn't able to fish. He can't knit a sweater and he swears he gets worse every time he tries.
Clint, i think Clint is also good at baking, though he surprisingly has a habit of burning his hands, keeps thinking he can grab the pans he's using without consequences. i think his favorite to make would be Blueberry or Carrot muffins :]]
Emily! she tries her best constantly, and is actually very nervous of how to make a good first impression, but she also acts on impulse which can be a rocky mix. i think she really likes roller skating, Haley probably does to, so its probably one of tbe activities she cherishes because its time she can spend with her sister.
Haley, It think she'd actually really be able to get into the punk/rock scene if you take the time to introduce her to it. she wouldn't change up her style no, but she'd be able to enjoy something outside of her usual comfort zone.
Alex. i think he couldn't roller skate for the life of himself. and would take alot of time to accept help in learning how to. but he doesn't want to admit it because he has an easy time ice skating and thinks he should be able to roller skate just fine.
George, He likes to go rock picking, and when i say that I'm not just saying that because of how many rocks he gived you, i think he likes to search for agates, has afew glass containers full of his favorite finds, And wouldn't admit it, but he'd be really happy when people join him in the little hobby kf searching
Evelyn, i think she actually really likes fishing, and used to fish at some point, but can't really do it nowadays, but i think she'd like to hang out near the river and talk to Willy when he's there.
Marnie, she's a heavy metal girl, she secretly knows so many metal bands it would surprise you. she'd be elated in a surprized reaction from whoever she's telling. She knows alot of niche bands aswell.
Shane, he once got an eyebrow piercing, but it rejected so badly he couldn't build the courage to get any other form of piercing for ages, He does now have ear piercings though.
Pierre, he has really bad luck, and by that i mean he's extremely clumsy, He walks into so many things, accidentally shuts cupboards and doors on his fingers or foot. curses like a sailor afterwards, likes to jokingly blame Joja for bizarre happenings as abit of an inside joke. Also he's the one usually cooking.
Caroline, THAT WOMAN, i fully believe she knows kick boxing, i just, get that vibe from her. She totally would, She also does most of the hard work around the house as her husband sits around looking pretty. Strong lady, can't convince me otherwise.
WIZARD, He can't cook, not at all, he keeps saying he'll learn, but its just not working for him, It should be just as easy as potions right? No, but he is really good at making tea. he has several blends he favors, and he wishes to share them with someone again someday.
Morris? He actually does feel abit bad for the inhabitants of pelican town, be he can't pinpoint why, so he blames it on the idea that he's just sorry they won't accept Joja. as mean as he is, i do think he has a heart somewhere beneath the Joja logo in his chest cavity 😔 I think he's also the son of the CEO. But I also think he worked Really really hard to get to his position. Morris also has a habit of not actually getting sleep. like, to the point he'll just crash in the work place and get woken by an employee clocking in, Usually Shane. Because Yoba knows Shane wouldn't hesitate to dig in to the fact Morris was sleeping on the Job. Morris used to have slight buck teeth but got them shaven down, (This is lowkey because of an inside joke that takes a LOAD of different characters from different fandoms and chucks them into the same family, because they have similar characteristics.)
FIZZZZ, theres not much on him, But i think he likes to play up on the stuff he does, such as practically scarying the player, He's playing it up, Morris is scared of him. but also has mad respect for him. I know that just because they're some of the only Joja workers that aren't exactly important, that i shouldn't immediately decide they know eachother, BUUUUT, I think they're actually friends, like, MORRIS crashed on Fizz's couch often, his own house was too far back in zuzu city for him to get there on time and still have enough time to sleep, and that they'd also be friends with Dobson if he was part of the game. Though Dobson wouldn't share the sentiment .
Dobson. Dobson should be real, Not just left in code. Thats not a headcanon, just sadness. But I think that if he was in the game, he'd be even harder to convince of not being a member of the Joja workforce than Morris or Fizz would be, he'd be Devoted to it. absolutely devoted. Theres a cardboard cutout of a heart in his chest, and when you turn it around Joja. Co is written across the back in blaring blue ink.
The Cashier girl! She actually is good friends with Sam, Sam was helping her come out of her shell while she worked there, but, when Joja mart is ran outta town, she had to leave aswell since she just oustide of town, (someone help her she had to drive quite the ways to work.) She HATES Joja but she needed the income. She doesn't hate anyone who works under joja, but aren't high ranking ranking, she pities them knowing they aren't actually evil, just, stuck in a hard work environment. I agree that her name is Carrie, it just suits her.
Gunther, That man is literally so gay, You can't tell me otherwise, that man is a fruit. Also, he is related to the guy who sells mermaid pendants, something tell me they are.
Elliot, he's learned how to fish from Willy. he was more than thankful to be taught, i think he's been learning alot from afew of the residents, Like Evelyn, and Caroline, i think they taught him how to Garden, Leah told him alot about nature. Abigail Sebastian, and Marlon told him how to get out of a pickle if he's dealing with monsters if he ever gets stuck in the mines.
Linus, I think everything i can say for him is expected, but i think he used to take great joy in crocheting.
Leah? I'm shocked to say i know nothing about her and i can't make an accurate judgement, same goes for Harvey.
Sorry if I left anyone out, and I'm sorry its easy to tell which characters i am hyperfxating on. peace out. - 🔹️
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#long post#like really long#sdv confessions#sdv sebastian#sdv abigail#sdv sam#sdv robin#sdv demetrius#sdv maru#sdv evelyn#sdv kent#sdv pam#sdv willy#sdv emily#sdv clint#sdv pierre#sdv shane#sdv caroline#sdv george#sdv marnie#sdv morris#sdv wizard#sdv dobson#sdv fizz#sdv gunther#sdv elliott#🔹️ anon
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PILE 1
His veiny hands, his strong bicep, his tattoo and the fact that everything he does screams masculinity. He’s amazing knowledge in alcohol or the fucking way he drive a car with so much assurance. His signature perfume and the way he never talks loud but always what's right. Did you ever find a man in finance this secure in himself with no God complex…yeah no that doesn't exist. But it's only right that he feels for you. The more I spend time observing you … I understand why he's falling… I am 2 .. I guess. Let’s start by the creativity that breathes out of you with everything you do. Is like you are in love with the whole woman's experience which can be seen by the way you take care of your hair ; long and healthy. You don't just stop there, you color them and style it anytime you want. The freckles that decorate your face like you are living painting. Your perfect nose and small but luscious lips. Is the way you are fine not being everyone's type and you don't care to change. You with your long and beautifully manicured nails. The way you love on your body unapologetically even though is not the standard in modern beauty. You never complain about your boobs being too big, your butt being too small or even your hips being too wide. Nah you wear whatever you want. Flowing dress, deep cut shirt with no bra not caring that your tits are sagging. What makes you even more intrigued is the complexity that lives beneath your beauty, elegance and confidence. You fucking love cars, passionate about it. I would have never guessed it, I would think you were an artist or even a mua but nah mamacita is trying to become an engineer. Is almost like life never hurted, never controlled, never took the best out of you. You decide to be your own person no matter what and your authenticity can be seen, admired, and envy by many including me. In my case I was pushed into this bimbo character. Need to act, look and be always be perfect since I could remember. Making sure to eat properly so I don't gain to much weight, making sure to message my skin so my boob dont sag, make sure to shave everywhere on my body, make sure to straighten my curls because curly ain't sexy, making sure to never skip a leg day so the butt stay juicy, making sure to have a clear skin. And it does not stop there … making sure I moan seductively, make sure I know how suck good, making sure I am submissive enough. I did it all to please … the one I want, stay unimpressed while the other treats me like lesser women because all they can think of is having sex. Actually you guys are so cute together, the way you like to act like you don't see him applying pressure. Always touching you any chance he gets, always looking at you across the room, always having your back when you need a ride back home even when the party's at his place. While you tease him, give him kisses across his face every so often, while giving him compliments with your beautiful voice, seducing him with your healthy femininity. Today, in the bathroom, too many drink in my system, hiding while writing this fucking email … I must admit that you have influence me. Because the man I love, loves you for you. Not a version of you made to please, made to seduce, made to only be relevant for the other sex. Maybe it is time for me to admit that all this is in vain … because being the standard did not make me pick, choose or even love. In all fucking honesty I am tired to prove that I am nice enough, fun enough, sexy enough, kind enough … Fuck… can I not just be enough ? (tears on the screen, somebody calls her name)
Fuck is not like you are even going to read this anyways…
VIBES: New beginning, fresh start, new couple, love at first sight, red string theory, cant get enough of each other, a lot of tension, chemistry and perfect match.
A lot of people are happy y’all find each other because you were both unfulfilled in love.
#tarot#tarotcommunity#tarot reading#divination#tarot cards#18+ tarot#pac#pick a card#pick a picture#pick a pile#intuitive messages#intuition#intuitive guidance#divine timing#divine guidance#future spouse tarot#future spouse#future lover
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“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”
First act: “From the roots”
Chapter I: “Happy Birthday to you (me)”
WARNING: None for now, just a little sad background at the beginning with a calm ending. Enjoy!
Prologue
The hallways are the same as I remember, white walls and full of marked photos, there weren't that many, but enough to make me think that I don't appear in any of them.
Although I am grateful that my room is not that far from the stairs, but at the same time, it hurts.
Looking at all those photos, looking at how everyone is smiling carefree (except Jason), everything is fine, except that one member of the mansion is missing.
And you know what the worst part is? Today is supposedly my birthday.
And I bet you anything that none of them remember.
The last photo they took was still next to the stairs, a photo big enough for all the Waynes to fit into it.
But since I'm not a Wayne, I didn't appear, I'm not, in any sense.
Because I would never "save" a child from the streets so that he would later receive the same treatment he once received there.
I would never allow the child to be insulted and denigrated for coming from the slums much less would I justify it by saying 'he's just a child'.
I would have taken that child directly to another family who could give him the attention that every child deserves. I wouldn't have taken him to a house where he would suffer.
Of course, they never touched him, they never hit me.
But words hurt worse than a sword.
Anyway, I doubt I'll be spending much more time than I should, I have to get back somehow.
But how?
[Name] stared at the photo for a few more moments before finally rushing down the stairs.
Her thoughts were a whirlwind out of control, so many questions hovered around her, stalking her, but there was only one that did not disappear.
Why? Why her? Of all the people who would long for this chance, why choose the one who would hate it the most?
"Lord, or whatever higher being is behind this, if you hear me... I hope you find your partner with another man, you damned wretch." She thought, completely ignoring her surroundings, until Alfred's voice called her.
"Miss" Alfred said, looking at her somewhat strangely. His expression didn't say it, but she noticed it. "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, don't worry, I'm still a little sleepy." She replied smiling a little. Alfred just raised an eyebrow but didn't reply further. "Alfred, do you know why the mansion feels so... empty?"
Alfred headed to the kitchen to finish preparing her breakfast before answering, "Today is Monday, Miss. It's normal for the mansion to be like this, even more so in the morning."
[Name] didn't say anything, she looked at him curiously. "I mean, yeah, it's normal, for now it's just Tim, Damian and I living in the mansion." She thought as she sat down in one of the chairs.
"There are two more years until I officially leave the mansion, but, I don't think I can handle two years of pretending to be the same girl who wants approval...I have to-" [Name] snapped out of her thoughts, again, as she watched Alfred place a plate of food in front of her, pancakes with cream and strawberries.
"Happy fifteenth birthday, miss." Alfred said with a small smile adorning his normally serious and expressionless expression.
"Alfred"
"Yes, miss?"
"Is there another important date today? You know, some event, gala, party?" [Name] looked at him curiously and attentively for his answer, Alfred on the other hand didn't say anything.
"No, miss, there is nothing planned for today."
Oh.
Oh.
"Alfred... Were you always this bad at lying or was I just really naive?" She thought with a smile, smiling trying to fake a hopeful look.
"That's great! That means I can spend today with my family!" She said with a smile, she seemed genuinely happy. She seemed.
Alfred fell silent.
"Of course, miss, today will be a special day for you." Those words distracted her a little, but she didn't show it, she had to keep up the role.
"YAY! Well, nevermind, I need to go find a dress and look nice! I want to show Dick the dress I bought, it's blue! I'm sure he'll love it! Bye Alfred, thanks!" [Name] stood up from the chair so quickly that it made a high pitched, annoying noise, Alfred simply tried to ignore it.
He just watched her run up the stairs with a smile, a smile that the butler could sense was strange.
[Name] on the other hand, barely left Alfred's sight, her smile disappeared, now being replaced by an expression of curiosity.
"Well, what happened today? Besides my birthday..." She muttered as she slowed her walk back to the squares in the hallway.
Observing each one of them one by one.
"What are you looking at?"
[Name] almost screamed when she heard the other voice, she turned around to see boy younger than her somewhat sleepy.
Black hair, Green eyes. Damian Wayne.
"Honestly, have I always had bad luck or is it just because I'm in the mansion? Damn it." [Name] thought as she looked at the boy who was looking at her in an angry and discontented manner.
"Good morning to you too Damian."
"Answer my question."
"I was just looking at family photos, I already had breakfast." [Name] said as she turned her gaze back to the photograph, with that she also turned her gaze to one in particular.
"Oh, you mean MY family?" Some won't notice it, but she will, that little silent mockery.
She knew what that boy was trying to do, ever since he arrived a year ago he always tried to do the same thing, to have everything in his favor.
Trying to provoke her.
He had done it with Tim before, a few months after his arrival, and it seemed that now his new target was her.
But this time [Name] couldn't care less about that comment.
She was no longer a Wayne, [Name] already took that for granted the moment she left this mansion.
So why should she be affected by a comment from someone she doesn't care about?
Comment coming from someone who doesn't care about her well-being either. Again, does she have to care?
Obviously not.
"Yes Damian, YOUR family, come down now, your breakfast will get cold." [Name] could feel Damian's normally serious and emotionless expression falter at her response.
A faltered that no one would notice except Bruce, Alfred, or an adult.
A faltering she noticed, technically, she is an adult only she is trapped in the body of a fifteen year old girl.
Damian wanted to say more, but he just closed his mouth, giving her a look of contempt and annoyance.
[Name] felt that gaze leave her and then return all her attention to the photograph that caught her attention.
It wasn't a photograph as such, it was a kind of family tree.
Below each small photo was the name and birthday. In the case of the adopted children without parents, their birthday was the day they came to the mansion.
[Name] looked for his photo and realized that it was very outdated compared to the others.
This was her when she was around ten or eleven years old. Birthday: July 19th.
"Wait..." [Name] began to check the birthday dates of the family members.
Until she got to Tim's.
July 19th. Damn.
"No wonder there was so much silence, now it makes sense because no one remembered mine..." She thought as she touched Tim's photo to frown a little. "But that doesn't justify them in the slightest."
[Name] walked away from the family tree to return to her room. She had already lamented before, what would change if she continued to lament now?
Nothing.
I spent the rest of the day in my room, the silence from before had disappeared over time, just as the morning turned to afternoon and afternoon to night.
"This doesn't affect me, no, it doesn't affect me one bit." That kept repeating in my head like a broken record. But that statement stopped working when I heard them sing.
Their voices were not annoying, on the contrary, those voices were soft and happy.
Even Bruce's voice sounded soft, Haha, it feels strange.
It's been a while since I spoke to him, no, rather, it's been a while since I heard his voice.
He always listened to my voice, my shrill voice demanding his attention and support. That little voice that always wanders through my mind, But will never wander through his.
I'm not complaining, I'm convincing myself.
Convincing that shrill voice that this is not an opportunity, that it should not have hope that anything will change this time.
I don't want it to change, I like my future, where I work and my life before this.
I don't want to hold on to a past that I know, I want to hold on to my future which is not more uncertain.
I want my life, MY life. Not her life. Not anymore.
I just want—
*TOCK TOCK TOCK*
Three continuous knocks managed to get me out of my mind, I'm grateful for that, if I continued like this I wouldn't be able to sleep.
I get up from my bed to go to that attic door and open it. There he was, Alfred looking at me with a small smile.
"I'm sorry if I woke you up, Miss."
"Don't worry, I couldn't sleep, did something happen?"
"Nothing you need to worry about, just a request from me." I raised my eyebrow curiously, it's not unusual for him to do this kind of thing, but I couldn't help but have a little deja vu.
"Could you accompany me to the kitchen?"
I stood still for a few moments, until I nodded in approval, Alfred moved to the side of the small staircase so I could pass.
Once done, we both began to walk side by side. my gaze wandered through the photographs again, and there was silence again, which was not surprising.
It was nighttime, but there was still a small light on in the kitchen when we finished going down the stairs.
With that light she was accompanied by a small cake along with a box wrapped in gift paper.
"Happy birthday, miss." Alfred said again as he approached the table where the cake was, the decorations from the old party (if there were any decorations) had disappeared.
I stared at the scene in front of me.
"This isn't the way I would have liked to celebrate your birthday, miss, but it's not an excuse not to celebrate it, don't you think?" Alfred looked at me, his smile never faltering even as I stood there staring at the scene, seemingly paralyzed.
"Thank you Alfred..." This time, his smile faltered for a few short seconds, perhaps it wasn't his smile, maybe it was his look or something else.
I didn't know what my expression was right now, but it must have been something new for him, maybe I'm wrong, but his gaze seemed slightly surprised and comprehension.
As if to say, "Since when could she make that expression?"
But that look changed as soon as I started to approach the box.
Being careful not to make any noise, I tore the paper open to open the box. I opened it, my look now one of slight surprise.
The box was not that big, but it was big enough to fit three items of clothing.
A long, wide skirt with cascading ruffles that give it a flowing and elegant effect.
Sheer fabric cape-like sleeves fasten to the arms with delicate flower-adorned bracelets, creating an ethereal and elegant effect that flows as you move.
Finally, A long white cloth that was soft to the touch. As I pulled out my things I looked at Alfred in confusion.
"This is a big thing for me, Alfred."
Alfred nodded "I know, miss." He carefully grabbed the white cloth, then folded it and put it back in the box, but not before looking for something else inside. "Some time ago you told me that you liked those dancers' dance outfits."
"That's why I decided to ask a friend for a favor and make these clothes." Alfred took out two fans from the same box, he opened one of them revealing that it was not an ordinary fan.
It was a fan that when extended was considerably large, in turn releasing a colorful silk fabric degrading in warm colors, like fire.
"Obviously, I couldn't forget about this." He handed them to me, I took them carefully, with precision and with a little difficulty I extended them both at the same time.
I stepped away from the table and Alfred to spin around a bit, admiring how the fabric circled around me as it spun, then stopped peacefully and elegantly when I did too.
Now I remember this Deja vu, the gift, the outfit and the fans, that outfit was the first one I wore for my first performance at eighteen, when I had just left the mansion.
"It's obviously not for your size because I don't think it's the right outfit for you yet, but once you grow up and still have dancing in mind, it will be perfect for you Miss [Name]." Alfred said as he approached me with the box in his arms.
"Does Dad know about this?"
Alfred shook his head. "No, miss, he doesn't know."
"Alfred..." I said in a scolding tone, which is ironic considering he's, technically, the adult here.
"I know what you're thinking, and let me tell you that money comes and goes, but this isn't going away for a long time." He placed the box in my arms, until now I had only seen his gaze falter once, but now it happened again.
Before I had thought it was a look of pity.
But now, I only see flashes of guilt. Why?
That guilt in his eyes did not reach his smile, which remained intact.
I let out a small sigh that was later accompanied by a smile.
Without warning he dropped the box along with the fans to hug him, I let my head settle under Alfred's chin, I could feel him smile.
Not that polite smile, a smile he formed because he wanted to.
"Thank you Alfred."
Alfred returned my hug shortly after by stroking my head.
"You're welcome, miss."
As he hugged me, I felt a strange sensation, a gaze that pierced my body and soul. A gaze that I decided to ignore, for now, I just wanted to feel like a part of my past, it was good.
NOTES: I'M REALLY SORRY FOR THE LATENESS, god, I think this is the first time I've had so much trouble with a character's age/timeline. But hey, here you go, eat and ask questions my children.
Because I will be more than happy to answer them💋💋.
And also, any ideas or advice to start the masterlist?
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TAGLIST:
@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864 @eyeless-kun @welpthisisboring @saiichai @leeiasure @shycreatorreview @bat1212 @vanessa-boo @midnightgrimoire @thereeallink @c4xcocoa @jsprien213 @stargirl404 @chericia @a-lurking-fae @kye-chen-r @alittletiredcry @lfiee @mishkapi @cxcilla @alittlelostmoonchild @ocean-mochi @randomlyappearingartist
#batfam x neglected reader#batfamily x neglected reader#negligent batfam#yandere batfam#yandere batfamily x reader#platonic batfam x reader#batfam dc#x reader
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closure
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Pairing: Carlos Sainz x ex!reader
Summary: you don't need Carlos' closure.
Word count: 2k+
Warnings: angst, based on the Taylor Swift song
A/N:
This my third fic for the folkmore series, and it is with none other than Carlos Sainz! This is my first time writing for him so I was quite nervous, please tell me what you think!
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
It arrives in your inbox at 2:17 AM, the timestamp almost mocking the stillness of the night. The world outside is quiet, the kind of silence that fills your room with its weight, pressing against your ribs as if the very air knows what’s coming.
The email subject line is simple.
Just wanted you to know.
For a moment, you just stare at it. The words are innocuous, almost casual, but your heart knows better. You’ve seen that phrase before—at least in the way it echoed in your mind, in the way you tried to convince yourself you’d be fine without any more explanations.
And for some reason, you already know what it’s about. You don’t need to open it to feel the heavy, familiar knot tightening in your stomach. The ache in your chest that had dulled over time, the one you had worked so hard to ignore, throbs with renewed intensity, as if it’s alive and remembering the shape of old wounds. It’s as though your body recognizes him before your mind even does, and it reacts accordingly—a reflex you can’t outrun.
Your hands tremble slightly, the familiar sensation of fear and longing mixing in your veins, but you can't bring yourself to look away. The old ache becomes a weight in your throat, too, and for a moment, you're almost paralyzed by the gravity of it. You know this isn’t just a message. This is a door opening, an invitation to face something you buried deep. But you click on it anyway, drawn in by something you can’t explain, a part of you still hoping that maybe—just maybe—this will be the thing that makes it all make sense.
I just wanted you to know I hope you're doing well. I know things ended messy between us, and I hate that. I really do. I never wanted to hurt you, and I know that I did.
I’m sorry for how I left. For not saying enough. For saying too much. For everything in between.
I hope you’re happy. I really do.
- Carlos.
The words stare back at you, flat on the screen, sterile and detached. They sit there like a sentence of finality, as if they’re not even meant for you, but for someone who doesn’t carry the weight of your history with him. It’s just an email—another digital scrap of text sent into the void of the night. But after everything, after all that’s passed, this is what he gives you? Does he think that you’re just a situation that needs to be handled? A string of hollow words with no breath behind them, no warmth, nothing that even remotely resembles the person you once knew. No, not even that. The person you thought you knew.
It was almost ironic how the shape of his name still spelled out pain. Every letter, every syllable, carried a weight that dug deep, as if each time you thought of him, the wound reopened. It was strange, how someone you once loved could still manage to hurt you, even in their absence. Everything about him—his words, his actions, even his silence—had caused so much damage that it was honestly a little concerning.
You hated him. No, despised him. The anger simmered under your skin like a constant burn, always just beneath the surface, ready to erupt. The audacity he had, the way he thought he could just walk away, leaving destruction in his wake—it was almost unbelievable. He was wrong in so many ways the day he broke up with you. The way it all went down, how he acted like it was the easiest thing in the world, how he twisted every word you’d said into something it wasn’t—it was wrong, all of it. And by the looks of it, he probably knew by now. He had to. The way time had passed, the way people talked, the way you’d changed—he had to know the damage he’d done.
Your mind replays the last time you saw him. You can still picture it so vividly—the way he had stood in the doorway of your apartment, arms crossed over his chest like a shield, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t read. He looked smaller somehow, the exhaustion wearing him down, hanging off of him like a second skin, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, yet he couldn't find it in himself to care about you anymore. The lines in his face were deeper, like time had been more unforgiving to him than you ever realized. The way his jaw clenched so tightly when you had begged him to just talk to you, that desperate plea falling from your lips like a prayer, but he wouldn’t listen. His silence had cut deeper than anything he could have said. The way he hadn’t looked back when he walked away. Not once. Not a single glance. Like you didn’t exist. That was when you realized he had put a distance between you two ages ago that you were finally seeing—a sea you were too tired to cross.
The door had clicked shut behind him with a finality that shattered you into pieces you weren’t sure you could ever put back together. That sound—the click of the lock—wasn’t just the end of a visit, but the end of everything. The end of any future you thought you’d have together. You didn’t just lose him in that moment. You lost the life you’d built around him. And you’ve been trying to rebuild ever since.
And now, months later, this. This email. A quiet, late-night message, sterile in its simplicity, like he was trying to offer a neat little bow to wrap up the wreckage he left behind. But there’s no ribbon to tie, no neatness to this. What he gave you wasn’t closure—it was a reminder that, for all his talk of wanting to make amends, he’s still incapable of meeting you where you need him.
You slam your laptop shut, too quickly, too harshly, as if the words might physically reach out and strangle you if you don’t. For a moment, your fingers linger on the lid, shaking, the intensity of your pulse drowning out the quiet hum of the city outside. The night has become suffocating, and you can’t tell if it’s because of the email, or because you’re finally confronting what you’ve been trying to ignore for so long. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere, and neither has the ache. It sits with you like an old friend, one you can’t seem to shake.
It’s almost laughable, really. You can’t help but chuckle bitterly to yourself as you stare at the screen. He thinks he’s giving you closure. That this carefully constructed email, this rehearsed apology, is supposed to fix something, to heal the rift that’s been eating away at you for months. That it will somehow mend the fractures in your heart as if it’s something that can be neatly patched up with a few well-chosen words. But the truth is, it doesn’t even come close. No, this isn’t closure. This isn’t even an attempt at healing—it’s just an afterthought, a last-ditch effort to clear his conscience without ever truly facing the damage he caused. And it’s almost insulting.
Closure isn’t an email at 2 AM, casually dropped into your life as though he’s just checking off a box. It isn’t a collection of words stripped of warmth, void of real feeling, written at a distance, with no regard for the time, or the place, or the person it’s supposed to reach. Closure would have been a conversation. A real one. A face-to-face moment where he would have stayed, where he would have stayed long enough to listen, to hear you, and not just walk away the moment it got hard. That would have been closure. But he didn’t stay. He left you behind with nothing but the echoes of your unanswered questions.
Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, you struggle to steady yourself. You take a deep breath, but it shudders on the way in, uneven and sharp. It feels like your lungs are betraying you, like they can’t hold the air in anymore, and you’re left gasping in the void between anger and heartache. Your throat is thick with unshed tears, but you refuse to let them fall. Not again. Not for him. You’ve cried enough tears for him already, enough for a lifetime. You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this anymore, that you wouldn’t let him be the reason you hurt.
You want to reply. You want to scream, to let him know how deeply he’s failed you, how his absence is still an open wound, festering in the corners of your mind. You want to tell him that, even now, you still wake up in the middle of the night, expecting to hear his voice, expecting to feel the weight of his arm around your waist. You still reach for him in the dark, your fingers grasping at air, and you realize too late that he’s not there. You want to tell him that every time you see red—Ferrari red, that damn red, the color of his car, of everything he used to be to you—you feel like you might break all over again, like all the pieces you’ve tried to pick up and put together have shattered into even smaller bits.
But he's not Ferrari red anymore. He's Williams blue now. You’d probably be a new wrinkle in his life, a person who wouldn’t fit. Heck, you didn’t even fit when he was in Ferrari. You could answer him back, tell him you forgave him, that you both could be friends again. Maybe that would iron everything out nicely.
But you won’t. You won’t give him that satisfaction. You won’t give him the power to pull you back into this mess, into this space where you lose yourself every time you think about him. He doesn’t deserve that. You don’t deserve to let him keep doing this to you.
The frustration, the hurt, the unanswered questions—they all feel like they're swirling in a storm that won't quiet. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets around yourself as if they could offer the protection your mind and heart desperately crave.
You are fine. Everything is fine. You had your beers, your occasional crying sessions, your candles. You were doing so much better without him. You had to.
It cut deep, knowing him, all the way to the bone. The breakup had been necessary. It had to be. You were healing, getting better, moving on. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.
But the ache in your chest and the rapid, shallow breaths you couldn't control told a different story. It was one you knew the ending to but didn’t want to face. His email was oh so unnecessary, cruel even. He had broken up with you months ago, and yet here he was again, trying to reach back into your life. He shouldn’t have contacted you. He should’ve left you alone.
And you definitely should’ve stayed in bed.
Hatred and regret twisted inside of you, each trying to take the lead, but you were too exhausted to figure out which was winning. Still, you knew you had to respond.
Your gaze lingered on the laptop screen for what felt like hours, your mind scrambling for the right words, something that could strike him, something that would hurt, something that would linger with him forever the way he had lingered in your life. But nothing came.
Instead, what you found was something deeper—something far more painful.
Acceptance.
Acceptance was the true winner in the battle between your emotions. It was the thing you’d been running from, the thing you’d fought so hard to avoid. You had accepted it.
It was over.
So, with a steady hand, you typed the final words you’d ever send him and blocked his email so he could never contact you again.
"I don’t need your closure."
#carlos sainz#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz x fem!reader#carlos sainz x yn#carlos sainz x ex!reader#carlos sainz angst#angst#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz f1#carlos sainz fanfiction#carlos sainz one shot#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz fic rec#f1 imagines#f1#f1 x reader#formula one#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 one shot#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula one fic#cs55#cs55 x reader
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LiuShen Omegaverse Scenario
Okay, a Scum Villain AU has been brewing in my head and I need to share it with the class.
So basically Shen Qingqiu is an Omega who has to disguise himself as an Alpha in order to fit in with the rest of the peak lords. In order to be eligible to become a peak lord, you have to be an Alpha, and thus all of the other peak lords are Alphas. When Shen Qingqiu transmigrated, he realized that the original goods had been hiding his status as an Omega the entire time, and just continued doing it for the sake of his image (and to avoid political drama of course)
So of course, this means that whenever Shen Qingqiu goes into heat, he secludes himself inside the Bamboo House to suffer through them on his own. Even though this is detrimental for his health, he would rather die (again) than out himself, and he would rather die TWICE than to leave the mountain and find an Alpha who would be willing to help him. Yeah. NO.
So basically, one time while Shen Qingqiu is going through his heat, Liu Qingge shows up unexpectedly for one reason or another. He senses something is off with Shen Qingqiu, but it doesn't click for him what's going on at first. That's when Shen Qingqiu realizes that Liu Qingge is not an Alpha.
He's a Beta.
As a Beta, Liu Qingge gets the faintest whiff of Shen Qingqiu's pheromones; because the scent is so light, it takes him a hot minute to realize that they're coming from SQQ. Shen Qingqiu is surprised to learn that Liu Qingge is also hiding his identity and pretending to front as an Alpha, but this also spawns a reluctant thought in his Heat-induced brain.
Maybe Liu Qingge could...help?
He dismisses it at first and is actively trying to get Liu Qingge to LEAVE, but the more adamant he acts, the more Liu Qingge gets suspicious/worried for his health. So finally, Shen Qingqiu makes the impulsive decision to awkwardly ask Liu Qingge for help.
It should be fine, since he's a Beta and not an Alpha. Shen Qingqiu would never ask an Alpha for help. Betas are more gentle and they have better control over their instincts. Liu Qingge is freaking out a little, of course, because he's never done anything intimate before, but also still wants to help Shen Qingqiu through his heat.
So he does, but of course things don't go as planned. In the deepest throes of their passionate love making, Liu Qingge accidentally marks Shen Qingqiu. Now, the mark of a Beta isn't as powerful as the mark of an Alpha, BUT STILL.
Shen Qingqiu is FUCKED. He's freaking out, because "Holy shit, you fucking marked me! This is what I was trying to avoid! Everyone is going to find out that I'm an Omega!" And Liu Qingge is freaking out because "Holy shit, I marked him. I fucked up. I fucked up really bad."
So their solution? They clumsily form the idea to fake a bonding ceremony and pretend to be fated mates. Two Alphas being fated mates is relatively rare, so the two of them can use this as an excuse for why it took so long for them to "notice the spark." One Beta and one Omega pretending to be two Alphas in a functioning relationship and totally not a marriage of convenience.
While all of this is happening, Luo Binghe is in the Endless Abyss, and his timeline is similar to that of the canon universe. Luo Binghe is an Alpha, and still has his heavenly demon heritage. Anyways, he comes back from the Endless Abyss to lay claim on his shizun, only to find out:
His shizun smells different. Luo Binghe has his shizun's scent memorized, and he would immediately be able to tell if another Alpha marked him
He realizes that not only does his shizun smell different, he's actually marked! Taken!
What do you think Luo Binghe will do when he not only realizes that his shizun is an Omega, but that his shizun was marked by a BETA? AND the two of them faked their bonding ceremony?
Oh, he's pissed. He's LIVID.
But Liu Qingge And Shen Qingqiu gradually start to acclimate to the other, and soon their feelings for each other become genuine amidst the broiling political turmoil they will soon be entrenched in.
That's as far as this idea reaches. But I'm having a lot of fun with it. Maybe I'll write something!
Let me know what you think!
#svsss#scum villian self saving system#mxtx svsss#mxtx#liushen#shen qingqiu#shen yuan#liu qingge#luo binghe#omegaverse#abo au#svsss au#svsss ideas
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P1HARMONY Reaction: You Falling Asleep on Their Shoulder
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Keeho
“Wait, are you—?” Keeho is the last person to be caught off guard by something, but when you fall asleep on his shoulder, he freezes up. He doesn’t want to move or disturb you, so he stays completely still, holding his breath like he’s trying to play a game of statue. The first few minutes, he’s unsure what to do—“Should I move? I don't want to wake them up… but I really need to stretch…” Eventually, he just sighs, softly smiles, and relaxes, feeling a weird mix of warmth and embarrassment. “This is kinda nice…” He secretly loves it, but he's not about to tell you that. When you wake up, he’ll act super casual, but he’s definitely a little extra protective now.
Theo
“...Wow.” Theo is surprisingly calm about the whole thing. He’s used to being the cool and composed type, but with you falling asleep on him, he softens almost immediately. He adjusts his posture so you’re more comfortable and starts gently playing with your hair without realizing it. Theo gets a little too comfortable, too. “I didn’t know this could feel so nice…” He whispers it to himself. When you wake up, he smiles softly, trying to act like it’s no big deal, but you can see the faint blush on his cheeks. “Good nap?”
Jiung
“Oh my god, you're so cute.” Jiung is definitely caught off guard, but he can’t help but think you’re adorable. The moment your head hits his shoulder, he lets out a soft laugh and adjusts his arm around you so you don’t slip off. He might even gently nudge you to see if you’re still asleep, just so he can admire how peaceful you look. He tries to act cool, but the boy is blushing like mad. Jiung will take pictures if he thinks you won’t notice, but only for memories (totally not to have a photo of his crush asleep on him). When you wake up, he’ll be all flustered, trying to play it off like it’s no big deal, but his smile gives him away.
Intak
“Uh… are you seriously asleep on me right now?” At first, Intak is like, “What in the world?!” He’s not expecting you to just knock out on his shoulder, and he panics a little at first, trying not to move too much. He does his best to stay still, but then he can’t help but gently smile, feeling that protective instinct kick in. He might start quietly singing or humming to keep you asleep longer, just because it’s such a soft moment. When you wake up, he’s acting like it’s no big deal, but his face is completely red. “Did you sleep well?” He’s secretly happy, though.
Soul
“…Tch.” Soul is chill as always, but when you fall asleep on his shoulder, he doesn’t know how to feel. His first instinct is to look at you for a long time—he’s not embarrassed, but he’s definitely a little more aware of you than usual. After a few minutes of thinking, he just lets it happen, wrapping an arm around you so you don’t fall off his shoulder. Soul is super protective, though, so expect him to keep an eye on everyone else around you, making sure no one disturbs your peaceful sleep. If you wake up to him looking at you, he’ll act aloof, but there’s no mistaking the softness in his eyes. “You’re fine. Go back to sleep.”
Jongseob
“…Did you just fall asleep on me? Seriously?” Jongseob is too sweet for his own good. The second your head hits his shoulder, he’s completely flustered, trying not to freak out but also wanting to make sure you’re comfortable. He keeps glancing at you, unsure whether he should move or let you sleep. He’ll probably be softly smiling the whole time, totally enjoying the moment, even though he’s too shy to show it. When you wake up, expect a mildly flustered Jongseob, scratching the back of his head and trying to act like everything is fine. “Did you sleep okay? I, uh, didn’t know what to do… so I just stayed still.”
#p1harmony#p1h#p1#piwon#p1harmony fake texts#p1harmony x reader#piwon x reader#p1harmony texts#piwon texts#p1 texts#p1h texts#p1harmony reactions#keeho#theo#intak#jiung#soul#haku shota#jongseob#keeho x reader#theo x reader#taeyang x reader#intak x reader#jiung x reader#soul x reader#haku shota x reader#jongseob x reader
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Okay okay okay i just found your blog, awesome by the way. And i kind you not i was thinking of an au where humans being born on Unicorn looked like transformers but are pretenders.
I don't know the full lore of you au yet but i like what I'm reading so far, where the pretenders are an uncanny valley to the Cybertronians. A real among us vibe.
If its okay i wanna share my idea (If your not interested you can ignore these part) Unicorn created humans to be a weapon against Cybertronians but he can't create life like Primus so he has to work with what he has. Which is the organic material growing on him, i was thinking from trail and error Unicorn blended metal and meat together until he got a human that looks like a Cybertronian but on the inside their not. The more Cybertronians looking humans would be his version of Primes that would lead his first iteration of humans. The first humans are like worker ants, they don't have a will if their own and just follows commands.
Their able to communicate to each other telepathically. I like to think the humans are able to open their chest like a Cybertronian revealing their fleshy inside, ribs that look like teeth and red squishy organs that pulse drool from the confines of their metal shell. I'm also thinking that being able to open their chest could serve a purpose where they have flesh feelers on the inside, basically tentacles. That can wrap and crush unexpected victims but their not just weapons, they act as feelers and their able to feel things more.
Aa for eating, i was thinking humans can eat vegetables and meat. And that when eating their disguise breaks as the metal mesh if their face breaks open. Lip slitting apart to sharp teeth build to rip and tear biting into their meal. Its probably like seeing a cat yawn for Cybertronians seeing their human friend eat. Since humans were made to fight Cybertronians originally, i was thinking humans are ironically attractive to Cybertronians. A siren if you will. Luring in prey in with beauty until it's too late. While that's my idea of it anyway. Ah sorry these is getting long, i hope you have a good day!
owwwwhhhhhh this is so awesome sauce!!! Your AU is so interesting!
Oh my goodness, lowkey Among Us or That's Not My Neighbor Transformers version?
I can imagine humans being Cybertron's equivalent of fae or doppelganger. Yes, love the horror combination of flesh and metal.
Would the bots start to develop some kind of security to detect humans among them like the medbay scanner in Amongus? Would there be a security bot specialized to sort out humans and cybertronians?
I'd like to add an idea of mine to this. While humans doesn't have a cog, they do have false alt-mode. Basically wheels, windows, ect uses to fool the cybs and blend in but can't transform.
For when humans start becoming friends and allow cybs to touch them. Their platings or protoform is noticeably softer than cyb's. Kinda like soft metal? Or the same texture as cat's paws, human skin in general. As for armor, is more like a protective shell, like a turtle's? Except they don't have nerve cells on their armor like cybs does. So when their armor is dented or scratches, as long as it doesn't reach their internals, they're fine.
Dw i actually really like reading long ask, have a good day to you too anon!!!!!!
#anon ask#ask#tf#maccadams#maccadam#transformers#transformers au#au idea#humans are strange#humans are space oddities#humans are space fae#tf unicron
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I don't really want to keep talking about this because I don't think it is productive to talk
Now I will contradict myself and talk at length
I'm gonna set the Pizza Hut thing aside and then also go abstract and point out that, theoretically, we have a representative government, and that means that theoretically the government, elected officials and yes, even career bureaucrats, are literally acting in their figurative capacity as representatives of the collective interest. A large piece of representative government is the notion that the representatives have discretion and are not pure vectors for the impulses of their constituents, but are thoughtful and rational actors who are equipped to act wisely to do what they believe is best for the whole. There have always been unelected officials in the constitutional government and there have always been parts of the government insulated from elections, but representation is the overall spirit of the scheme. As is I am sure familiar to all of us who have a passing knowledge of American political thought.
There is, since WWII, a large professionalized, bureaucratic machine added to this mix. These are the people Republicans hate and have wanted to get rid of ever since they were created. They are still theoretically representatives of the people. While they are not elected directly, their agencies were generally created or approved by elected officials, and Congress controls their budget. Congress, the most democratic branch, at least theoretically controls this part of the government.
Therefore, you can imagine, theoretically, that all of these things that USAID did, if you trace it back enough, is connected to someone who thought it would be in the general interest for USAID to do this.
But we see the problem, of course, which is that there are probably some people who are fine with the federal government funding those things and see them as an extension of the general interest, and a lot of people who aren't. In the grand scheme of federal spending and behavior, sometimes some incongruities can slip through in the vague hope that things will just kind of generally shake out. Whatever people personally feel, it has never been the conceit of even a pure democracy that you, personally, will get everything you want. But, even though this is not at pure democracy, it's not not a democracy, and you can only have one group doing things that a huge minority or even slim but comfortable majority fucking hate for so long.
Which is a long way of saying that the 20th century version of the constitutional government is built on the assumption that there is a broad enough consensus about "the good" that the government can be professionalized and we can take for granted that the professionals will, on balance, do "good."
This consensus no longer exists in even the barest form.
One of the things that people have consistently failed to internalize about Trump as a phenomenon is that all the things people hate are the things people love. That is the appeal.
When you complain about how everything he is doing is wrong, you are telling them that it's working. Every time you point out a hypocrisy or an abuse of power or decency, you are adding fuel to the fire.
As we careen through 2.0, it is important to bear in mind that collectively, this administration is about revenge. It is revenge for the pandemic, it's revenge for 2020, it's revenge for pronouns, etc. Take a brief sampling of the "cry harder" memes. Oh you think the corruption is bad? You think Trump's cronies have conflicts of interest? What about Anthony Fauci? What about the ATF? What about the 2020 election? What about, what about, what about? Cry harder.
Advertising that they are hurting people is advertising that they are doing the right thing and should continue doing it, because hurting people is the point. Complaining about the hurt, complaining about the stress, this tells them the process is working, and has to continue.
Because they want to hurt people who are not on their team.* It is not a byproduct, it is a positive feature. It is the purpose.
And sure, there are a few people who will say, oh, no, this is so dramatic, he is just joking, you are taking it too seriously, relax, relax.
The thing about that is, it's partly true. The media has always been committed to painting everything the administration does in the worst most lurid light possible. And we cannot pretend that the left-of-center, writ large, is innocent. And Trump, on balance, has been probably the funniest politician in American history. We know he has a sense of humor.
But when they tell you he's just joking and you need to relax and it's all an exaggeration, it is important to remember that what they are telling you is to trust him, as they trust him. Trust that he won't do the thing he said he would do, because when he said that, that part was a joke. Trust the scary parts are jokes. Trust that he and his team are doing the right thing. Believe, as they believe.
That is a tall ask.
Now you may ask, well, now what? Honestly, as far as I can tell the answer is nothing, it's too late. Every time anyone has had a chance to pause or walk back they've doubled down. We've played all our cards. Save what you can, and think about the kinds of values you want your children to have and how you will raise them because this generation is set on its trajectory.
*but what do you mean by hurt?
I honestly think this is a huge variable. I think many or even most Republicans for whom this is appealing genuinely think that they do something and there is some bluehaired undertcut she/they who is coping and seething sooo hard and crying about it and then just walks off the stage, having completed the performance of being "owned" in their imagination. That is to say I seriously doubt that they think there are any real world consequences to anything that they do. Cutting off foreign aid, firing millions of government employees, I think these are just fake numbers, all calculated to anger that she/they who they have pictured in their mind.
Generally speaking they regard emotional distress about things they don't value as temper tantrums that exist on a spectrum of amusing to annoying.
That is to say I do think a lot of them honestly think that everything about all this is fundamentally harmless. It's not really hurting anyone in a meaningful way, at least not anyone important.
I don't know how you'd break through that.
Some of them are definitely malevolent, but as always it's hard to know how many or to what degree.
#i don't know where it's going from here#but I do believe we are well past the point where we'll talk through it#as I said#we've played our cards
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gerard talked about collecting knives and killing people and some people on instagram are freaking out about it, but most of us are just like, "oh yeah that's normal, nothing crazy happened" and i find that both very humorous and very telling of how much mcr fans are just conditioned to the darkest, most depressing thoughts
#I've not actually seen the video but I've seen people quoting it and I'm like. yeah. sounds like gerard ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#i just love our ability to be like. yeah we've all been through dark times. collecting knives is weird but also we sorta get it#people do weird stuff when they're depressed and they think weird almost dangerous things#but i think it's fine as long as you don't act on it#hopefully someday you'll tell people about it and they'll see that you're so much better and they won't judge you for who you once were#anyway#love you guys#and i love gerard way and his ability to talk about the darkest things yet still shed so much light#mcr#my chemical romance#gerard way#mike hemical rome ants#gerald
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Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 3: Enveloping Feelings.
(Part 1, Part 2, Part 4)
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#lan wangji#Yungmeng Jiang training arc AU#I wanted to try out a different paneling style for this one - sorry I'm a day late! (there will still be a post tomorrow to keep on track)#The original 3 panel comic idea was fine but the point of this new schedule was to take time to push myself a bit more.#I was taking a look back through some comic artists I felt inspired by#and I really loved how Lynda Barry fills her gutters with patterns and doodles!#Obviously I'm not going as absolutely wild with it as she does but it was a great exercise!#I truly think the gutters are the most important and most overlooked part of any comic. There's lots going on in that space.#It's the same with timeskips. The implied movement between moments that we don't see changes depending on how wide that gap is#You're here for the funny tags so here's some that ties this time talk together:#I think LWJ was thinking about that second note from day 2 but it took him 7 days of hazing to commit it to paper.#I think he sends it a day later and immediately regrets it. Chasing down the messenger and everything.#You know if something actually happened to his brother he would never ever forgive himself for putting the bad vibes out there.#Third time skip was the hardest because there was so many possible flavours of jokes here. Day 8/9 was a personal favourite.#day 14 was also funny (week by week). I think the debate on 'how long does lwj take to catch feelings' is more or less:#'how long does it take for him to arrive at a particular stage of grief and yearning (and awareness of it all)#This is a symphony. There is an act by act structure. Every day he is fighting to keep his old sensibilities. He is losing so badly.#(I'll be returning to the main comic soon but there is more of this AU to come!)
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This is the only thing I'm going to say about the election until it's over:
Anyone who did not vote for Harris or who attempted to dissuade people from voting for Harris, you are indirectly responsible for whatever shit Donald Trump does if he gets elected. That blood is primarily on his hands, yes. But it is also on yours. I hope you can live with that because I sure as hell wouldn't be able to.
#'but gaza' trump wants TO OBLITERATE THEM. HE LITERALLY WANTS THERE TO BE NOTHING LEFT OF GAZA AT ALL. WHY DO YOU THINK#I DON'T WANT HIM IN POWER?????#yeah I said I wouldn't election post I lied sorry.#I know most of you don't actually care what happens to american citizens because we're all Violent Hypocrites who should kill ourselves#and somehow every single civilian is responsible for the actions of a military and government that comparatively few of us are actually par#of but FUCKING HELL. You don't care about THE PEOPLE OF GAZA??? Because that's what you're telling me if you're in favor of#doing anything OTHER than the most likely path to get trump out of politics. which is voting for the candidate DIRECTLY OPPOSING HIM.#the thing about america being an empire that needs to die. is that before it dies. it is still affecting the rest of the world.#I can't make you care about me and my loved ones. but I am IMPLORING you to have some fucking compassion for all the people#who are going to be DEEPLY negatively affected elsewhere if trump gets into power.#THEIR HARM. THEIR DEATHS. ARE ON /YOU/ IF YOU DID ANYTHING TO FACILITATE TRUMP'S VICTORY IF THAT'S WHAT HAPPENS.#I don't believe most of you actually have any amount of the sympathy and compassion for others you claim to have.#I don't think any of the causes you throw yourself behind are actually meaningful to you. I don't think any of this is based on a#genuine desire to build a better world. I think you just want your Internet friends to think you are a Good Person.#if I see anyone. ANYONE. acting like a trump presidency is what we 'deserve'. or that it's necessary to 'teach [xyz] a lesson'#I am NEVER speaking to you again I don't care how long I've known you.#us politics#I am a disabled queer woman. almost everybody I love is also disabled and queer. you think we're acceptable collateral damage fine.#but don't cry that I'm being a bitch if I say that that makes me not trust you and not want to have anything to do with you.
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what if I told you fifteen is actually suicidal? what if I told you his little speech about having felt everything and having experienced everything is the main source of his trauma? what it I told you he feels lost, aimless, thinks he has no purpose? what if I told you he's fucking bored with life? what it I told you he is almost definitely going to start engaging in impulsive thrill seeking behavior just to feel something? and what if I told you that, just like how rose was there to pull nine back from his anger, ruby is there to pull fifteen back from his apathy just by being so alive?
#doctor who#doctor who spoilers#our boy is struggling okay#he's riding that toxic positivity train#but it's not going to work for long#btw I don't think this means he didn't actually heal from all the trauma his previous regenerations had#he wasn't lying in the giggle when he said he was fine#it's just that y'know once you process all that trauma#it's kind of hard not to think ''without that what am i left with?''#you kind of have to build up an entire new worldview#and fifteen is trying so hard to do that by acting like he's fine#but eventually it'll catch up to him I promise you
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i unraveled half a dishcloth about 3 times because i was having a toxic man-refusing-to-ask-for-directions moment and kept telling myself "nah you've knit stacks of these and it's literally the easiest pattern" and ignoring the fact that i've been crocheting for 3-4 years and could really spare 5 seconds to google a pattern as a refresher
#pickle pontificates#i was overthinking it and doing like. stockinette stitch. like hm this is probably fine#and you know it is fine but not for the pattern i was trying to do#which is why it took me so long to realize anything was wrong#and the conclusion of the story was that yeah. it did take about five seconds to look at the pattern#and NOW i can go back to knitting without thinking about it#would have been nice if I'd done that in the first place#the other thing I should really be doing is manifesting beano... found some leftover fabric so I could totally start that now#also I started midnight burger this morning. i've listened to 4 episodes and it's really fun so far#seems up my alley!#some of the acting is a teeeny bit stilted but totally enjoyable still#definitely within quality podcast range#i'm also right at the beginning#and i'm also acknowledging that I'm coming off of improv to a scripted thing so it probably stands out more#although the last two before zyxx were scripted and i was raised on audio dramas with slightly awkward voice acting so#who knows how my calibration compares to other people's#those radio characters are freakin funny and probably the most instant favorites#''married couple who's super into it'' is one of my favorite bits that i don't see enough#hopefully that doesn't age poorly for any reason. we'll see in a few days#and i'm interested in finding out more about all the characters and exploring the world. promising start!
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Luffy vs. Zoro at Whiskey Peak
Unpopular opinion maybe, but the Luffy vs. Zoro clash in Whiskey Peak made sense for their characters. You could even argue that it was bound to happen, given their personalities.
Luffy likes the people who feed him. In the the face of their suffering, no matter who's responsible, he's too angry to concern himself with the reasons behind it. Zoro, on the other hand, prefers to handle things independently without saying much about it, especially if it means his crew gets to enjoy themselves a little longer
So it's not really surprising that Luffy would be blindsided by finding their hosts cut up by his swordsman, and that this would send him flying into a fit of rage. If he's never paused to listen to context or backstories before now, why would he start here? And of course, Zoro is not the type to back down from a challenge. He will match Luffy's energy and respond in kind
"But if Luffy were a good captain, he would have stopped to listen to Zoro's side of the story." Vivi tells him he's a bad captain two arcs later, precisely because of this kind of behavior. It clearly leaves an impression on Luffy, and we see he's grown into a better leader by the time he reaches Amazon Lily. (Almost as if Oda set all this development up on purpose with Whiskey Peak. HMM...)
"But Luffy refused to believe that Nami had killed Usopp in Arlong Park." This argument is like comparing apples to oranges. Nami did not actually do the murder that Johnny and Yosaku claim they saw, nor is she capable of killing people in cold blood. Of course Luffy isn't going to believe Nami killed Usopp based on hearsay. But in Whiskey Peak, Zoro did cut those bounty hunters. Luffy sees the evidence for himself, and he knows the carnage Zoro is capable of inflicting once he puts his mind to it. There is no denying what happened. Nothing other than Zoro saying "someone else did this" (or Nami knocking the soul out of him) was going to stop Luffy from going ballistic
"Why would Luffy fight so hard to recruit Zoro into his crew, firmly believing that he wasn't a bad person, only to later attack him because he believed Zoro was capable of harming 'innocent' people?" Because the fight was never about whether their hosts were "innocent" or not, not really. Their fight was about what Zoro did (assaulting the ones who fed them), and how those actions made Luffy feel (mad as hell, because these people FED THEM) For Luffy, context did not actually matter at that moment in time because, for him, "they fed me" unequivocally means "they're my friend", full stop This is even shown again in Mocktown! Both when Luffy unquestioningly eats an apple from Doc Q, and when Bellamy buys Luffy a drink in Mocktown. In the first case, Luffy only lived because he was lucky. And in the second case, he assumes Bellamy is a good person despite all evidence to the contrary, only to have his face brutally smashed into the bartop by Bellamy. Luffy is shockingly bad at reading people who try to feed him.
Luffy has interpersonal conflicts with all the core members from East Blue at different times. The fight with Zoro is the only one instigated by Luffy. But surprisingly, their fight highlights their similarities instead of their differences. They still fight equally and work together against BW agents who try to interfere with their fight.
I think that's what Oda wanted to showcase with this scene.
In short, Luffy's initial anger stemmed from his protectiveness towards those who have fed him, while Zoro's actions were driven by his dedication to the crew and subsequent refusal to back down from Luffy's challenge. It was a clash resulting from miscommunication and misunderstanding, something that is not typically a problem for them — until it suddenly becomes one When all is said and done, they're both quick to forgive and forget. This, too, is fitting for both their characters. From that point onward, Zoro continues to demonstrate that Luffy's trust is not misplaced. And Luffy never, ever doubts Zoro again after this
#I see a lot of ppl claim Luffy vs. Zoro was due to pressure from editors#but nobody can cite sources for this#I think it's much more likely that Oda genuinely wanted to show them fighting#to set up a gradual path of growth for Luffy in Act I#and also to highlight how Luffy and Zoro are on the same wavelength; even when they're trying to kill each other#plus that fight was funny as hell idc what anyone else says#also it's totally fine to dislike this scene b/c of the tonal whiplash#or b/c you don't like tropes based off of miscommunication#but anyone who says Luffy was ooc in this scene#or that this chapter only happened because luffy doesn't trust zoro#and that luffy would've been 100% fine if NAMI had killed the bounty hunters b/c he would've just ~trusted~ her#is wrong! lmao#one piece#monkey d. luffy#roronoa zoro#whiskey peak#meta#my meta#text posts#long post#zolu#kinda sorta
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talking to friends about The Horrors, specifically the Trumpian Horrors, and, like
the more I consider it, the more I think that the best thing we outside the US can do - for ourselves, for the world, and for America as well - is to just holler to the fucking rooftops that AMERICA IS NOT THE WORLD.
By which I mean:
we do not let politicians, media, and our own social circles convince us that American issues are the only issues worth discussing;
we challenge politicians, media, and our own social circles on the politics of appeasement;
we challenge ourselves on the assumption that laws passed in the US affect us directly, and we do not place ourselves in American shoes;
we focus on our own shit. Not because it's more important, but because we need to remember that it still exists. Our eyes cannot be on the USA while the legislative and political rights in our own countries are eroded from under us.
we look to the rest of the world. We get used to viewing people who don't look like us, talk like us, or even like us as an equal and crucial part of the political landscape.
WE ARE LOUD ABOUT THIS. In politics, in activism, in social contexts, in our own assessment of our own politics, we remember and hold up that America is NOT the centre of the world, and that American hegemony is NOT inevitable.
This is not because I'm trying to undermine American struggles. This is because the Trump administration is strengthened and bolstered by every other country that chooses to suck the cock of American supremacy in the desperate attempt to maintain the last remnants of the old imperial order.
It is up to everyone in the world to challenge that, and to say: yeah, this fucking sucks, and we want America to be better, but we don't need America.
There are other markets. There are other allies and potential allies. There are other global powers (Personally I think we should try to dismantle global powers entirely, but, you know, one battle at a time) and there are other political shifts.
So much of the current rightward swing in the UK, at least, is directly modelled on MAGA to the point that it's the same movement, to the point where the branches of that movement feed power and influence to one another. You know what has consistently been one of the more successful tactics? Fucking reminding people that they are not, in fact, offering solutions to the problems Britain faces, because these are American solutions and we are not America.
idk it feels stupid to say this. it feels stupid to have to point out that Not Everywhere Is America, and it feels even stupider to think that this is something that needs pointing out to the systems of power. But the more I think about it, the surer I am that one of the tentpoles of American power, and therefore of Trump's power (in the US as well as beyond it!) is just... the willingness of so much of the world to say: yeah, sure, everything is America.
WE ARE NOT AMERICA.
AMERICA DOES NOT HAVE TO CONTROL US.
idk. maybe it won't change shit. but maybe yelling that at international power structures loudly enough - making noise about issues that are not American, focusing our efforts outside America, challenging American supremacy on the global stage - is, in fact, the most useful thing we can do.
#and this is NOT a call to ignore the dangers of an expansionist right-wing autocracy#this is a call to note them. watch them. and then talk about other things.#not even “never talk about the usa” but... like. challenge yourself. ask WHY the usa is always the first country to come up.#it's a fine line to draw bc like... ignoring problems does not make them go away#but nor does lavishing 100% of your attention on things outside your sphere of control#trump and his government act with impunity in part because the WORLD political establishment so frequently treats them as gods#because we (uk specifically other global north countries generally) are SO LOCKED IN to the hierarchy#we don't even necessarily see it! it's just a fact of political discourse that America Is The Great World Power#but that can and should be challenged. because: why tho?#but as long as the gop know they can browbeat the eu and un and nato into literally fucking anything#they will continue to act with impunity#but tbqh it is sound and fury signifying nothing! what are you gonna do? invade every country in the world?#national power is a story. that's all it ever is. it's a narrative that grows and strengthens through belief.#and unfortunately we cannot just stop believing in it. but we can challenge that belief. and i think we have to.#we have to look american crises dead in the face and say “yeah ok that's shit. and what else?”#idk i'm open to debate/argument on this (to a point) but this has moved from a personal gripe to#i actually think this is the best thing we can do communally?#...also when we accept american supremacy we also take on the exhaustion of american subjects#and then we lose all ability to provide support and perspective for those who are directly in the firing line#important imo to focus on sympathising with not identifying with#solidarity does NOT mean homogeneity. being conscious of our place outside the regime is also an important thing.#accept the limitations on what we can do to change it#but also accept that we are not the subjects of legislation or policy.#and most of all that we are not MORE beholden to solidarity with americans than with palestinians or sudanese or congolese or anyone else#idk it's 4am i'm probably not making much sense#but i feel Very Strongly
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