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#not sure how i feel about these but i wanted to post them regardless
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It is totally possible to be a Buddie endgamer AND still support Buck/Tommy. It's possible to never be shaken from your stance as Buck and Eddie being soulmates while supporting every relationship they have been in, regardless of how dysfunctional it was.
Here's my take:
I want to see both Buck and Eddie explore life and find their true paths independently of each other, Christopher, and the 118. They are more than just each other's best friend/coparent, Christopher's fathers, and firefighters/part of the 118 family.
Since we know there is a season 8, and I would guess a season 9+ if these ratings keep up, it would be awesome to watch a full season, or more, of character evolution. We could watch Buck dating both men and women openly, learning his value, and discovering what he wants for his future.
Buck, as Bobby pointed out, doesn't enter into relationships of his own accord. He stumbles and falls into them without a clue how he got there. One day, he wakes up and he's someone's boyfriend or living with someone and isn't sure how it happened. Buck simply goes wherever someone will accept him. He misconstrues that acceptance and tolerance as genuine romance, feelings, and love.
Abby was bored and lonely and horny. I could say a lot about that relationship. If the motivation strikes, I may post about how that relationship was toxic and manipulative on Abby's part. If there are any Abby fans, you need to know your girl was showing some tendencies that were red flags.
Ali? Buck was single. She showed interest. That's it.
Taylor? Great sex and she kept coming back to Buck. She was there for all the wrong reasons and had questionable morals, but she was there. That was enough for Buck.
Natalia, again, was simply in front of Buck. She was obviously only interested in Buck's death, not Buck as a person, but Buck didn't care. He tried to make it work anyway because Natalia gave him time and attention.
So, we have an established pattern of Buck dating whoever will give him the time of day when he needs it most.
Enter Tommy. Buck is feeling left out. He's probably slipping into loneliness and spiraling because he feels the most important person in his life for the last six years is being taken away from him. (That's Eddie, for those in the back.)
Tommy shows up, sees Buck is spiraling, and kisses him. (Tommy fans, canon has established that Tommy has bad guy capabilities. Stop trying to gaslight the fans who are saying he may not be the good guy his sudden fandom claims he is. He isn't and Hen and Chimney forgiving him doesn't change that. People who are capable of consciously being a-holes are just a-holes. Mmkay?) He doesn't just hit on Buck. He physically initiates contact, giving Buck no doubt the man is open to other men. He showed Buck attention in a moment of crisis and he's a safe option after Buck openly admitted he was jealous and trying to get attention.
Buck stumbles into the next relationship. (Again, I could examine that situation, but if I do, it will be in a separate post.)
The show could give us Eddie admitting he let the expectations and influences of third parties control his destiny and he has no idea who Edmundo Diaz really is outside of what was expected of him, what he was taught, and what he did out of a sense of duty instead of doing what he wanted to.
He was with Shannon because she was pregnant and the right thing to do, per their parents and his faith, was marry her. I think he loves her for giving him his son, but nothing he has ever said or done indicates he was in love with her. I think he thinks he was. I think he wanted to be.
He was with Ana because Christopher needed a mother, per what he was told and taught, and she had an impressive resume and knew Christopher.
He is with Marisol because she fits the perfect mold of what his parents would like and she gets along with Christopher.
Should we talk about Eddie's relationships timing up perfectly with when Buck enters a relationship? No?
That man has never once in six seasons made a believable statement about genuine attraction to or sexual enjoyment with women. Ladies and gentlemen, if you have straight male friends who are in their 20s or 30s, you know you will be subjected to more details about their sexual history than you ever wanted to know. (Many of my close friends historically have been straight men. Conversations with them have been interesting and eye-opening. Sometimes traumatic, too, but I knew what I signed up for when I became their friend.)
Eddie canonically is in his early 30s and has been on the screen since his late 20s, but went without sex for years, never seemed to miss it, and now he's suddenly "pent up"? That is not the whole story and there is more going on there.
I'd love to see Eddie figure out he isn't into Marisol and hasn't been into anyone genuinely, except maybe Shannon. There could easily be a demisexuality arc for Eddie. Keep in mind, the term demisexuality was coined less than 20 years ago and is still not widely known. Eddie could spend a season, or more, working through the feelings he's ignored or been unable to put into words, dealing with overbearing parents, and how his faith has quietly, and unbeknownst to him, guided his choices. He could spend a long time wondering why he never feels an instant connection with anyone, except Buck and Tommy. (You seeing a pattern here?) This season has openly pointed out Eddie is in therapy.
The road to Buddie can be filled with satisfying detours, aka other relationships, leading to the realizations that open their eyes to each other. We don't have to negate the Buck and Eddie's experiences with others to support Buddie.
The part of me that wants instant gratification would love to see Eddie and Buck dancing at Madney's wedding and figuring out they are what they have been looking for all along. Cut to them in a room going at it.
But, the part of me that loves a great story, and doesn't mind waiting if the writing is great, is fine with a slow burn that gives us deep storylines and episodes that grip you from beginning to end. Let's say we have the rest of season 7, season 8, and maybe a season 9. There would be so much possible material.
Buck could go through a relationship with Tommy, a breakup, confusion, dating again, multiple amazing conversations with LGBTQ characters like Hen, Karen. This would also allow for giving other characters more depth, backstory, and more time on-screen. (This would be an amazing time to bring back Rockmond Dunbar as Michael and have him and Buck discuss figuring your sexuality out later in life!)
Eddie could spend that time working through his Catholic guilt and separating his actual needs and desires from what he was taught to need and desire. He could realize he makes excuses to stay with the women he dates then finds an excuse to escape when being with those women gives him anxiety. He could begin questioning if he is gay, bi, pan, or what. Then he could ask himself why he never really gets to know the women he dates. Who has he been close to? What was different? What gives him a feeling of safety and security and home? He needs to figure himself out.
So, yes, I do believe Buck/Tommy is acceptable and I support it, just not as endgame. I think, if written well, it could be integral to a great growth plot that takes us through Eddie and Buck diverging on their paths to self-discovery only to converge later on, a little more scarred but more in tune with themselves, to see their future in each other.
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five-and-dimes · 16 hours
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Begging for more of Dead Hearts I love what you've posted so muuuuuuuch.
Thank you!! Since this one has been popular, I went back and tagged the snippets I've done for it, so you can find them more easily here.
Now enjoy young Hob experiencing character growth:
When Eleanor answers the door, Hob expects her to see the bruise on his cheek and laugh at him, or slam the door in his face, or any number of cruel things that Hob thinks he himself might have done if their situations were reversed. When he thinks about it later, he will realize that that was why he went to her at all. Because he had felt certain he deserved some salt in his wounds and he thought for sure that she would give it to him. Instead, she merely leans against the doorframe and looks at him pityingly, “I take it the conversation with your friends didn’t go well?” Hob laughed wetly, “I mean, we’re not friends anymore, so…” At those words, Eleanor smiles. Not meanly, not even really happily. But it makes something warm spark in his chest. Like maybe he isn’t the irredeemable scum he thinks he is if she is willing to give him a smile, even one as small and sad as this one.  “Then there’s hope for you yet.” And then, to Hob’s surprise, she opens the door wider, nodding her head to invite him inside. He follows her meekly, standing in the entryway awkwardly while she rifles through her freezer. “Come on then,” she gestures to the couch in her living room, pushing at his back when he moves too slowly for her liking. Once he is seated, she unceremoniously presses a bag of frozen blueberries against his face, “Hold this, it’ll make you feel better.” Petulantly, Hob thinks that he doesn’t want to feel better, but he follows her orders regardless. She is being kind to him even after proving just how little he deserves it. For a few minutes, they sit in silence, Hob lost in his head and Eleanore patiently waiting for him to pull himself together. To his horror, when he finally speaks, it is with a watery sniffle, “I’m a terrible person, aren’t I.” Beside him, Eleanor shrugs, “Kind of.” It's so quick and nonchalant that it startles a laugh out of him, “What do you mean, ‘kind of’?” He had thought it was a yes or no question. Sighing, Eleanor looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “What I mean,” she explains firmly, “is that you’re 18-years-old and so far have done some terrible things. There’s nothing you can do about that. You’re just going to have to live with it.”  He can’t help but wince at her words. Because they’re true.  “But,” she continues, “you’ve still got your whole life ahead of you. So,” she looks at him pointedly, “What are you going to do now?” He opens his mouth, and then closes it, looking down at his lap as he really considers her question. Up until now everything had been easy. Before Eleanor, no one had challenged him, had asked him to really think about his words and his actions, to consider that maybe his ‘jokes’ and ‘games’ weren’t actually fun. He’s been coasting through life. It would be impossibly easy to slip back into that. To go back to making other people feel awful instead of feeling awful himself. He takes a deep breath. What is he going to do now? “Better,” He decides. “I’m going to do better.”
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moongothic · 3 months
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You know I wasn't going to post about this, but the more I think about it the more it drives me up the walls
So when Luffy and co release Crocodile from jail, it's specifically under the threat that if Crocodile tries anything funny, well, Iva-chan has a trick up their sleeve to put Crocodile back in-line.
So what the fuck was that actually about? What is Crocodile's secret weakness? I'm specifically looking at the way this is phrased in the manga, because the anime's added dialogue kinda messes with what's implied here. But what Iva specifically says is that Ivankov in particular holds the key to one of Crocodile's weaknesses, but they'll stay quiet about it as long as Crocodile behaves himself ("Vataashi wa koitsu no yowami wo hitotsu nigitteru", a very clunky but literal translation could be "One of his weaknesses is within my grasp". The way Viz translated the line is a bit different so I'm not bothering with getting a cap of the panel, you wouldn't be able to tell how these lines were phrased in Japanese based on Viz's translations anyways) (The dialogue Toei added was Crocodile furiously shouting at Iva-chan, telling them to not say anything and Iva-chan reminding Croc to watch his tone or else they'll reveal Croc's past to everyone. A lot of people don't remember this was in-fact added by Toei, hence I wanted to clarify/remind what happened in this scene originally)
And now. Obviously. When Oda went out of his way to introduce a brand new character whose entire personality is being queer and their power is giving people magic HRT. And then like five chapters later re-introduces Crocodile. And tells us that these two have Secret Beef. And never proceeds to fucking tell us what the hell that was about. Yes, the natural conclusion one would come to would be that Crocodile is stealth trans. That is basic, good storytelling. You (re)introduce two characters, tell us they have beef, one has a very specific ability; you're supposed to connect these dots in your mind. So that now, if Oda revealed to us tomorrow that Crocodile was canonically trans, it would not surprise anyone because it's already been set-up in the story, by this very scene. It's a logical conclusion.
But. I'm becoming more and more convinced that Iva-chan's blackmail might actually not be about Crocodile being trans.
Like the general fandom assumption for the past 15 years has been that Crocodile's stealth trans, but we actually don't know he's stealth. He could be openly trans, and between that being a borderline requirement for Crocodad to be real (since he would've been a Shichibukai for years before Luffy was even born) and the possibility that his earring could specifically be a gay earring, like. Yeah. Crocodile could be openly trans. If Crocodile's perfectly happy to let the whole world know he's gay, then him being trans shouldn't have to be a secret either. We the readers could just be unaware of it because it wasn't relevant information to us, and his transition would be old ass news in-universe and not worth bringing up.
And thus, if Crocodile isn't stealth, then Iva-chan can't blackmail him by threatening to out him, becaus he can't be outted.
Now for a while I did considder that Iva-chan could've been actually threatening to detransition Crocodile if he tried anything funny. Surely he would hate that, so much so that he might not have wanted to even hear Ivankov suggest it. But thinking about it. Unless Iva-chan can use Armanent Haki or get Crocodile moisturized, they shouldn't be able to hit Crocodile actually. Like Croc's Logia makes him impossible to hit unless he specifically allowed himself to be touched. So even if Iva-chan tried to surprise attack Crocodile with Estrogen, Croc should just turn to sand automatically, the attack should not land.
Meaning Iva-chan shouldn't be able to detransition Crocodile against his will, at least not without Haki and we don't know if they can use it, so that can't be Crocodile's weakness either.
And so we have to ask the question. What the fuck is that weakness then that Ivankov mentioned?
All we really know is that Crocodile doesn't want this weakness to be brought up, it's a secret. And for all we know Iva-chan might be the only person in the world who knows about it.
And I just. Like.
There is one weakness, kind of a universal one that many people could have, one that has been brought up time-and-time again post-timeskip, one that has become more and more relevant in the story, especially now at the begining of the Final Saga.
A secret weakness.
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If pregnancy is what cracked Crocodile's egg and he transitioned immidiately/soon after giving birth, then it's entirely plausible Iva-chan could know Crocodile had a secret child. And surely he'd want nothing more than for his child to be safe, not end up in trouble because of him. And Ivankov most certainly could put that child in danger, especially now that Crocodile was officially no longer on the World Government's side, there'd be no protection for the baby. All Ivankov had to do was leak the information out, that Sir Crocodile had a child, and anybody who had beef with him could get their revenge by attempting to find the child.
Like I'm just saying. This could line up nicely, actually
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annoyinglibra · 1 year
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They should invent medications that don’t make me believe my friends would be happy if I died as a side effect
#so far I don’t even know if these are going to help me with my physical pain#nor can I be sure that the emotional side effects will stabilize#but within an hour of taking my meds I’m convinced my friends would have better lives if they never met me or if I just ended it all#the secret third thing it makes me think is that I don’t mean enough to anyone for them to care that I’m in their life to begin and#to begin with and*#subsequently don’t care whether I’m dead or not#so I would simply like medications to not do this to me#because it makes me have a terrible night with terrible dreams and then my day starts terribly because of it#and I have to hope that I can turn my mood around at some point or else I’m just depressed all day too#I told myself I’d stop making vent posts after I was getting dangerously close to talking about certain things but I’ve come to terms#with how I can’t tell anyone for a myriad of reasons. not sure I’ll ever even tell my therapist. but regardless I’m not worried about that#now. so at the moment it’s literally just me needing to vent that these medications make me want to fucking die because I believe people#are either better off without me or that I’m meaningless enough for nobody to care to begin with#like the other day I literally dreamt that I got shot and was bleeding out but my friend didn’t give a shit#which is entirely unlike him he’s a good person even if I’m worthless he’d care that someone is like. dying.#ugh and even this! I genuinely believe I’m worthless rn#all sorts of stupid shit that I’ve mainly gotten through except at my worst times#has come back to just being a daily thing#and I don’t want to talk about it because it makes me feel pathetic and like a burden#and if I talked about these feelings to andrei it’d scare him so much that my guilt just won’t allow it#<- for the record if you know him please don’t tell him all of this he already knows and also even though I want to kms I won’t#it’s just that I can’t like.. get help for it as often as I feel it because nobody in the world is equipped to hearing the person they love#say they think the world would be better if they were dead literally every night because that’s how often I feel it#the funny part for me is literally nobody irl is aware of how bad this is because I’m 1) good at acting 2) don’t want to scare my mom or#brother because they already had to deal with years of me actively being suicidal 🤪#if you managed to read all of this you’re a fucking saint and I don’t deserve you in my life even if you’re just a follower who’s never#interacted with me before. I still appreciate you#delete later
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gotham-daydreams · 7 months
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Not Here
[Yandere! Platonic! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of neglect, Mild Yandere Behavior, Batfam being hella stupid.]
(Not really proofread. The birds and bats seeing that y'know- maybe not paying attention to people and neglecting them isn't a good thing. Chaos ensues. More of a development thing. Might be a little ooc?)
Tags: @bigcandlesmolbrain
Part 2 of this post.
๑۩۞۩๑—————————————————————๑۩۞۩๑
Bruce liked to think he was a good father, for anything that was worth. Or at the very least, a decent one.
He wasn't perfect by any means, but he felt like he raised his children the best he could, and had made them into responsible and diligent adults. Dick was a great example of this, and even if Damian was still growing up, Bruce had hope that he'd turn out to be good as well. The hardships his current Robin had to face would pay off in the end, Bruce was almost too sure of that.
Those he decided to take under his wing had their flaws, yes, but even if he didn't say it out loud or point it out often. He did believe that they were good at what they do, or at least were on the right path to becoming good vigilantes. Bruce couldn't help but be proud and prideful of where his children and sidekicks were, and could only look forward to how they would continue to develop as time went on. Despite their feelings towards him, and his own faults, mistakes, paranoia, and so on. Along with how he felt about them, and their flaws — he couldn't help but respect the people those in his little mess of a family where becoming, and turning out to be.
Or maybe he was both overestimating and underestimating himself, and the true effects he had on those he decided to look after.
Since, for a few days now, he felt like something was... off.
The Manor seemed quieter these days, and even if he couldn't remember a time where it was particularly loud, the detail felt misplaced to him. Sure, he hasn't hosted a gala or party in a while, but that didn't feel like it was the reason why the silence suddenly bothered him.
Bruce tried to think of all possible reasons, a little surprised himself that this feeling of his was bothering him so much, but the more he thought about it the more confused he became. There didn't seem to be a particular reason for this... and yet, just as he was about to put this feeling aside, he heard it.
["I, um, I was just wondering..."]
["Oh, uhh, that's quite alright! Oh, one moment please... oh! Second chorus... T'was brilling, and the slithy toves, did gyre and gimble in the wade..."]
It sounded like some sort of... play? Bruce wasn't too sure, but still decided to check it out regardless, wondering why something like that was playing in the first place.
So, allowing the sounds of the play to guide him, he continued on.
["Why- why you're a cat!"]
The voices grew louder as Bruce drew closer, interest peaked as he tried to recall and see of he knew this play. The lines sounding familiar, now that he was really listening to them.
["A Cheshire Cat. All mimsy were the borogoves..."]
Once Bruce rounded the corner he saw a... familiar face on the screen.
A student play was being filmed, and the play itself was Alice in Wonderland.
Whereas Bruce didn't recognize the actor for Alice, he did recognize the actor for the Cheshire Cat, but couldn't quite put his finger on it...
Was... was that...?
"Y/n?" He whispered your name, voice barely above a whisper.
No, it couldn't be. You didn't participate in any plays, and surely if you did he would've known about it. Even then, that didn't explain why he was seeing this now. The play itself had to have been a recording, since you looked so young...
How long ago did this take place?
["Oh, wait! Don't go, please!"]
["Very well. Third chorus..."]
["Oh no, no, no... thank you, but- but I just wanted to ask you which way I ought to go."]
["Well, that depends on where you want to get to."]
["Oh, it really doesn't matter... as long as I g-"]
["Then it really doesn't matter which way you go! Ah-hmm.... and the momeraths outgrabe..."]
Bruce was staring so intensely at the screen that he hardly noticed how the lines and voices faded into the background. His focus centered on you, disbelief gnawing at the back of his head.
He had never seen you smile like that before, not during all the times he's seen you anyway. Even if those moments themselves were small and short from what he could remember, the smile you wore during your performance felt... new in a way. Like something he hadn't seen before — not on your face anyway. Though that wasn't the only thing that made Bruce feel weird as he watched the play.
It wasn't anything to do with your acting skills. They were fine for the most part — and honestly considering the age you probably were during the time of the play, they might've been above average, or even a little higher than that. Not even the girl who played Alice, who also did relatively well, was the source of this odd feeling.
It wasn't the costumes or the set up, or even the lighting, and how he could faintly see the silhouette of other actors and such just behind the curtain, because of the camera angle. No, it hardly had anything to do with anything like that, but, how should he put this...
... How come he didn't know about this? How come he wasn't aware of this play before? Let alone that they had a recording of it, and that you were even a part of it... but Bruce still felt bothered by this whole realization because, well.
Why didn't you tell him about this?
"Master Bruce?"
The sudden voice snapped Bruce out of whatever trance he was stuck in, as he whipped his head around to face the source of it.
He huffed softly, "Oh, hey Alfred." Bruce greeted calmly, acting as if the butler hadn't caught him off guard.
Alred couldn't help but raise a brow at that.
Almost in a silent, embarrassed way, Bruce glanced off to the side only to notice that the recording was still playing, and so he decided to ask about it. Since, if someone knew anything about anyone in this Manor, it would be Alfred.
"Say... what's this playing on the TV?"
"It's a recording of one of Master Y/n's plays, Master Bruce." Alfred answered simply, almost as if it was common knowledge. "Apologies if it's too loud, I decided to play it while cleaning. I can change it or turn it down if you'd like."
"No, no it's fine... but since when has Y/n acted in plays? I don't remember hearing about this." Bruce stated, confusion growing as another emotion began to swell in his chest. One he was all too familiar with, but ignored for the moment.
"Since middle school, if I recall correctly, but it was only while they were younger. Having only been in three school plays in total, I believe." Alfred moved closer to Bruce as he looked at the screen, eyes softening for a moment as he watched you move along the stage. You had grown up so much since then, and the stage fright you used to have felt like nothing more but a faint memory now.
You wouldn't believe how incredibly proud of you he is.
"It's a shame they didn't do any more afterwards, since it would've been nice to have a few more recordings of their performances, but I suppose that's what happens when you find a new passion." He looked back at Bruce. That previous softness in his gaze nowhere to be found.
There was a certain way how his eyes looked at the billionaire, as if expecting something. As if expecting this.
Alfred had higher hopes, but you had left for a reason. Even if he knew what that reason was, it was only now did he see it more clearly. Especially as he witnessed Bruce's face shift into one of shock and surprise.
"They've always told you, Master Bruce, but you're schedule has just always been too full." Alfred handed Bruce a piece of paper, and Bruce took it wordlessly, looking it over.
It was a flyer promoting a play — the Alice in Wonderland play that was still going in the background — with the dates and times listed below, along with some of the cast members. Your name stuck out like a sour thumb compared to the rest.
Bruce did remember seeing this before, but one thing did still confuse him as he looked back at Alfred.
"I'm pretty sure you gave this to me at the time, not Y/n."
"That I did, sir, but that was only because Master Y/n was having some trouble with catching you attention, because they had wanted to give you the flyer themself. So I offered to give it to you for them." Alfred replied truthfully, cleaning up a little more while he was at it, and leaving Bruce to his thoughts for the moment.
He didn't remember you trying to catch his attention... but if what Alfred says is true then that makes sense, even if it made Bruce feel bad in a way. The feeling growing a little more when he realized something Alfred had said.
"And this happened all three times?"
"You sound surprised, Master Bruce."
Bruce ran a hand through his hair, eyes pinned on the flyer as he pressed his pursed into a thin line. Countless thoughts floated around in his head, all of them jumbled up and messy as he just didn't know what to make of this. Missing one was probably fine, and maybe two at a push, but all three? How could he have missed every single one?
Sure he was busy, but he didn't think it was this bad. Did he just forget? How did he not notice such a thing had slipped right past him?
All Bruce could do was sigh. There was nothing he could do about it now, and even if there was a way to make it up to you, he didn't know where to start, or if that would change anything to begin with. Besides, he didn't even know how long it's been since these performances had happened.
...
Wait a minute-
"Alfred, how long ago was this?"
Alfred just looked at Bruce, brows just barely creased before he took a breath of his own.
"A few years ago, sir."
What?
At the look of disbelief on Bruce's face, Alfred could only stand and straighten himself out as he calmly asked, "How old do you think Master Y/n is, sir?"
"Oh, well, they're..."
... Bruce couldn't even think of an answer.
Obviously you had to be in highschool since it had been years since you've performed in a play, with the Alice in Wonderland play being one of them, but how old were you exactly? What year were you in? Were you a sophomore? Junior? Surely you weren't a freshman, but even then — what high school did you even go to? Bruce didn't think you were home schooled, or else he'd definitely notice that... or would he?
Oh no.
What if you already graduated? What if you already had gone and done something that not even Alfred knew about? Did you have a job? Where would you even work? Were you already in college? What college would you even go to? Did you manage to get a scholarship? What would be you major? Where would you be studying? Would you even stay in Gotham? Were you even old enough to be out on your own? Could you even drink yet? Could you drive? Did you own a car? Or even a motor bike? When was your birthday? Did it already pass? What's the month? The day? The year?
How old are you?
"I... I think I'm going to go and just check up on them." Bruce couldn't answer, and while he had a vauge idea. That's all it was, an idea. So he moved the subject along, and made his way up the stairs, leaving Alfred behind. Just watching as the world's greatest detective left the room, all because he couldn't figure out the age of one of his own kids. One he had chosen to take in and watch over like all the rest, and yet left behind all the same in the process.
Alfred could only sigh to himself as he paused the recording of the play. Ejecting the disc and putting it in its respective case, and placing it in its usual spot.
This was the only way, he decided. This was the only way.
--------------
Bruce didn't feel much better by the time he reached your room. It took him mistakenly stumbling into two guest rooms before he finally reached it, and honestly he felt more regret over that alone.
Most of this time he hardly remembered that the room before him now was even occupied, let alone that you had claimed it as yours. What didn't help was that it was only now that he remembered introducing this space as your own, and yet he had forgotten that small detail so quickly.
Regardless, Bruce just pushed that all to the side as he knocked on the door, taking in a breath.
"Y/n?" He called out, only to get no respose. So he tried knocking again, but he still got nothing.
Sure, he was getting a little confused, but just pushed that to the side with everything else, as he stared down at the door knob.
... Should he?
He had to talk with you eventually, especially considering what he just figured out and how little he actually knew about you. He needed to talk with you. He couldn't just let this slide, not with what he knew now. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
So, be tried the knob, and was kind of surprised that it was unlocked. Though besides that little strange detail, he gently pushed the door open, and took a peak inside.
Oh. You weren't even here...
Bruce didn't know how to feel about that.
Regardless of that, however, he opened up the door a little wider, and stepped inside. What he saw only made him more confused, but also feel so much worse when he looked all over the room. How could this be...?
Various things were on your desk, shelves, and hung on the walls. Your room looked surprisingly clean, but honestly Bruce doesn't know what he was expecting. After all, he didn't even know your exact age or hardly anything about you, and even then — by the looks of things, he had missed out on so much more than he originally thought.
Trophies, awards, medals, and certificates were littered about your room. The very sight of them made the paper in Bruce's hands feel so much heavier, and yet he still held onto it as he further inspected the awards, and few pictures hung on your walls.
Every color was here, from bronze to silver to gold, and at some point it seemed you were able to get a consistent amount of silvers and gold. The awards themselves were from various events and activities that barely corresponded with each other. From fencing to swimming, and dance to pottery. From track and field to literacy, and gymnastics to cooking.
It was like you had tried to do so much of everything, and were trying to collect all of these awards from all of these different activities, rather than earn them because you deserved it for all your hard work and dedication to do that particular activity, but Bruce just couldn't understand why. Why go through all of the effort just to move on to the next thing? It... didn't make sense.
Right next to you black belt for martial arts, you had hung up the few medals you had gotten from track, and right below that were some awards you had for gymnastics. Beside your soccer trophies you had some kind of art award, and beside that was more awards and things you had received from playing and participating in other sports and activities. Bruce had no idea you were even into some of these things, but just from looking at your room, he could tell you weren't all that into or interested in some of the activities you did. Seeing as some activities and such had more awards when compared to others, but one thing in particular seemed to really catch your interest.
Music.
Not only did you have a whole wall and section of your room dedicated to it, but it felt more organized, and the placement of awards and such seemed more thought out in a way.
Countless awards littered the wall, and from the placement alone he knew you were proud of them. The pictures hung on the wall showed you shaking someone's hand as you either held up an award or album cover. You smiled, and Bruce could see how genuine it was as he felt like he could feel your happiness radiate off the photo itself. The people you were shaking hands with looked pretty happy themselves, and Bruce was a little surprised that he recognized them, but that made him feel more conflicted.
The people in those photos with you, were famous, and you had gotten those opportunities to meet them and shake their hand all by yourself.
All of these awards — they were only the finishing products of what you had spent all of your time doing. They were only small glimpses into the person you truly were, and as Bruce looked at the records you had hung on the wall, he could feel his own regret spilling out of his bleeding heart.
He wish he was there with you.
He wish that he had been there to see you even get half of these rewards that you undoubtedly deserved. He wish he got to hear the music you played, and what kind of songs you wrote. He wish he had been there to see you go on, and work your way up, with him being there as your support, and yet...
He had missed everything.
From the plays, to the matches you had, to the games you played in and competitions you participated in, and how could he forget your performances that even earned you such big, important awards. Awards that probably meant so much to you, because of how far it showed you had grown.
Bruce missed it all. Every little thing.
... He had to find you.
No if's or but's this time. No more excuses. He had to find you. Bruce needed to.
So he did a more thorough search of your room. Finally placing the flyer down on your desk as he looked around. He checked your closet, your bed, even under the picture frames, and moved some of the awards around, in order to better check and search for anything. Any hint that could point to where you had gone, and or where you might be. Any clue, any thing that could tell him about you.
He even made sure to take a mental note of the people in the photos, just in case he had to reach out to them and ask if they knew where you were by some off chance. Though that was only if Bruce was convinced that you weren't even in the Manor, and getting some extra information on you never hurt anyway. Seeing as he had a lot of catching up to do.
As he searched, he ran into various things. From equipment, art pieces — most of which were unfinished — and old notes, to other random items. Like an airsoft gun, some glass beakers, various ties, a pair of shades, a glasses frame, and a sewing kit next to a first-aid kit? Bruce didn't want to think about how the first-aid kit both looked used, and was empty.
Bruce even stumbled upon a fancy looking tuxedo he didn't remember buying you at all, but a small tag caught his eye and-
Oh, it was a gift from someone else, and with the note you left behind the tag — most likely with the intention of giving the tuxedo back — it was safe to assume that you and this person knew each other quite well...
Bruce just put the tux back. He would've gotten you a better one anyway if you had just asked, or if he even knew you needed one in the first place. Though regardless of that, he kept looking.
Eventually, he looked under your bed, and found a single box under there. Undisturbed... sitting innocently in the darkness.
Bruce didn't waste much time as he reached out and grabbed it, and placed it on your bed. There was a thin layer of dust on top of it, which Bruce found a little strange but kept in mind as he opened the box and looked inside. There, he saw a variety of notebooks and papers, and from the looks of things, the items in here had been collecting a bit of dust too...
When was the last time you touched these?
It seemed a little strange that these were tucked away from everything else, and clearly you didn't want other people going through it or even seeing them since you kept it so out of view. Were they diaries? Bruce would rather learn anything personal about you from yourself, he didn't want to go through your things like this, but considering the situation...
He sighed, and just picked up a random notebook. If this could help him find you, then so be it. He didn't want to do this but he couldn't leave you alone either. Not again.
Yet, he was so focused on looking through your things that he didn't even realize that someone had passed by, and noticed the odd room Bruce was in. A room that they themselves haven't seen before.
"Woah, what's this place? An old childhood room or something?" Dick asked as he invited himself into the room, mindlessly looking around, not really paying attention to anything in particular as he waltzed around.
"It's Y/n's room." Bruce stated bluntly, still looking over the dusty notebooks in the box. Some simply labeled 'Notes' or 'Practice', while one in particular was called 'Ideas/List & Progress' with little drawn sparkles around it. Another two weren't labeled with titles or words, and instead with small music notes doodled onto the cover in your favorite color. Though Bruce didn't know the color was your favorite.
Nevertheless, Bruce decided to look through one of the notebooks with music notes on it, completely missing how Dick had froze, and turned to look at him as if he was crazy.
"What? You've got to be kidding, right?" Bruce just gestured to one of the records on the wall, flipping through the notebook in his hand as he read through it quickly but carefully.
Dick, still not entirely convinced and honestly just really confused, looked at one of the records Bruce had gestured towards, and felt like he had just gotten ran over by a truck with how hard reality hit him. There your name was, signed and everything, with a well-known producer listened as well.
His eyes even darted to the other records, only to find the same thing, and for just one final check, he looked at one of the awards on the wall.
Your name was engraved on it.
"Holy-" He covered his mouth, more than shocked as he looked around the room again, hand falling from his face, "but that means-" Now Dick was paying more attention to the room, moving from one thing to another as he looked over everything now.
"How did they- there's no way they did all of this? And- what. They even did gymnastics?!" To say that Dick was in absolute disbelief and shock was an understatement. Yet he hardly had any time to recover or process anything as another person popped into the room, albeit only temporarily.
"I'm afraid it is quite possible, Master Dick." Alfred spoke up, catching the attention of the oldest sibling as he moved into the room, and set a stack of papers on your desk, right next to the flyer Bruce had set down.
Confused and curious, Dick looked at the stack once Alfred had pulled away from it, and picked up the first paper.
It was another flyer, but this time for some kind of solo event or concert you'd be doing. The date written down was a few days ago... a week or so having already passed since then, but how could this be?
Dick hesitated, but took another one as he looked it over. Again, it was for some kind of concert or performance, but the date and time was further away. Three weeks to a month having passed since, but how did they not notice? Didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell them?
"This doesn't make any sense... why didn't Y/n tell us about any of these things?" He asked, mostly to himself as he continued to look through the various flyers.
"Why don't you tell me, Master Dick?" Alfred quipped, looking at Dick in a knowing way before stepping out of the room, "Now, I'll be heading off, but I do trust that both of you make the right choice this time around." With that, he simply left. Leaving Dick confused but feeling worse at the same time as he looked back at the flyers, mind racing until he spotted something.
Carfully, Dick pulled out another flyer out of the pile as he placed the others to the side. He recognized this one, but where had he seen it before? Was it...
... Oh god.
Dick whipped out his phone and checked his messages. He had to scroll down a bit, but he quickly found your contact and tapped on it. He flipped through your messages, hundreds upon thousands of which he never responded to, and even if that alone made he feel bad. When he found what he was looking for, he felt even worse.
He found a message of you sending him a photo of the flyer, and said how you hoped you'd see him there. The message itself had been sent almost a year ago, and as he looked back at the flyer, he didn't know how to feel. Yet he kept looking, especially as he spotted another familiar poster.
Some of them he was able to connect back to another message you had sent, and the further back he went the more he responded... but it wasn't much, and he seemed to leave you on read more times than not. He had made an effort, but clearly it wasn't enough.
Dick couldn't imagine how that must've felt for you, and he almost didn't want to. Yet he still continued to search through the flyers, and came across one he had an odd memory of. He did remember seeing a text for it, but also remembered hearing about it somehow? He wasn't too sure, but just incase he did decide to look through his voicemail. He didn't know what he'd find, but he decided to just have a little look, even if he wasn't sure he'd even find anything.
So, he matched the date of the message and scrolled until he found it.
The voicemail innocently stared at him, and Dick couldn't help but hesitate before he tapped on it, and let it play. Heart already heavy as he stared down at the flyer. The kind of look someone gave when they already knew it was too late, and Dick didn't know what was worse. The fact that he basically missed out on your entire life at this point, or that he had nothing to say for it besides that he was sorry, and had just forgotten about these things one too many times.
["Hey, Dick! I, um, I hope everything is going well and that patrol hasn't been too bad." Your voice wavered as you spoke. You were clearly nervous but you tried to push on anyway, and cleared your throat before you tried again.]
["How are you, though? I heard that you had a rough night the other day- and I know I'm not really into all this crime-fighting stuff like everyone else but... I just hope you're okay, y'know?" You chuckled nervously before you cleared your throat again, "An-anyway, um, yeah. I just- hope you're okay." The sound of a paper being fiddled with could be heard, and you took in a small breath.]
["So... I have this performance I'll be doing next Saturday- it's more of a competition really, since other musicians and stuff will be there too. It's at 7 o'clock, and I know you guys mostly work at night and everything- but if you could drop by or even just quickly come around at 8:15 that would be great! Since, um, that's when I'll be performing..."]
Dick looked at awards you hung on the wall as the voicemall continued to play. Based on the date of the performance he was able to find the award. You had gotten second place.
["It's um, it's a piece I wrote that's a tribute to your family- the Flying Graysons, that is, since we're allowed to play songs we wrote if they were approved beforehand, and it was! So, um, I really hope you don't mind. Your family is cool! Not that Bruce and everyone else isn't or anything- um, I'm going to stop talking about that before I say something stupid. But! I couldn't help but feel inspired so I, y'know-" you cleared your throat again. Clearly nervous.]
["Sorry for my rambling- but, yeah. You can pass by if you want or have the time, and it's right by that one place Bruce had that whole charity announcement on Monday. You can't miss it, there will be lights and all this other stuff- not to mention that it'll probably be loud considering things, but uh, yeah."]
["So if you think you can make it or pass by, it's at 7! Next Saturday! And if you can't make it by then, I play at 8:15! So, yeah. Remember that! If- if you want to. Hope to see you there! And if I don't, that's okay. I just hope you enjoy the piece if you hear it. Have a good night! Or-! Or day! Whenever you listen this- um, bye!"]
What? You had wrote a song for him? For his parents? For them?
Dick's heart swelled. He didn't even get to hear it either, he wasn't able to. He didn't have time, and he forgot, but that didn't make things better, did it?
You had gone through all of that effort, and not only made a song for him but even played it during a competition and got second place. Yet he couldn't even put a few minutes to the side to listen to it. He didn't.
Now Dick definitely felt awful.
However, he did notice that there was another voicemail left by you just a few minutes after the last one. So, he decided to play that too before his guilt and regret could fully settle in, as if it'd make him feel better somehow.
["8:45! IT'S 8:45! THAT'S WHEN I PLAY! NOT- Not 8:15, sorry! I mixed up the times- that's when a friend of mine plays, not me! Sorry! Uh, but yeah. I play at 8:45- stop by if you can! I hope to see you then! Buh-bye!"]
Okay, well, Dick officially felt worse now. So much worse.
You had all this character and personality, and yet he was never able to fully see it — to hear it like he has now. Not like this, not while he was paying attention.
Your voice was so much different than what he remembered, and despite your nerves you really tried to tell him because you hoped he'd be there. You tried to tell him in hopes he'd actually show up, and he never did. Even as he listened to your other voice messages, he could hear how his own actions, or lack thereof, were affecting you.
The messages grew shorter, more to the point, and while you did still sound enthusiastic — it's like he could hear the hope dying in your voice. The hope that'd he show up. That any effort would be made, but that didn't happen, and it didn't help that Dick was listening to some of the voicemails he was going through right now, for the first time.
He could only imagine the pain he caused you, and Bruce was thinking the same thing.
Bruce was still looking through your notebooks as Dick was regretting everything he had done to you in the past.
The notebook Bruce was reading now was one where you had written down majority of your more recent song ideas, along with things you wanted to try and melodies you were trying to mix together. It was mostly full of lyrics and small notes to yourself about certain things you wanted to keep in mind, and though there was a lot of things crossed out, Bruce couldn't help but be... charmed in a strange way.
How you talked to yourself was adorable, and seeing your excitement for your own performances and such through each word you wrote, just made Bruce feel so happy for you. He could almost picture your smile and how giddy you felt when you were writing some of these things down, or how focused you were when trying to figure out how to continue the chorus of a song you were making — or if there should even be lyrics to begin with. Along with how you wanted the song itself to sound, and what emotions you wanted to capture in it.
With each page turned it's like he could see the entire process you went through when it came to your song composition. Like he was almost there with you in the moment, watching you do your thing, and honestly? Just by that alone he couldn't help but grow... softer.
Bruce loved seeing how your mind worked when it came to music, and your thought process behind each and every little thing. He just... he felt like through each line and little note he read and looked over, he was falling in love. The kind of love that he couldn't quite describe, besides just the love only a father could feel when they really see their child for who they are for the first time. The kind of love Bruce hadn't felt in a long while, nor this intensely.
You were so creative and passionate, so driven to achieve your dream and do what you loved. You were just so... you, and there was just something about the way you expressed that in the notebook that felt charming. The deeper Bruce got into the notebook, the harder it was to not love you, and each time he saw one of your little notes, he could feel himself smiling. You were so precious, how could he not see that before?
Though, besides all of that, he did notice a small pattern.
Every performance you had, you mentioned in the notebook and would express your feelings about it, and every time you did — you'd write something beneath it. Just a small paragraph about certain hopes you had. Hopes that made Bruce's heart squeeze tighter.
It was you hoping that they'd get to see you perform, that they'd show up, and suddenly Bruce was reminded of why he was doing this in the first place. So, he started to flip through your book, shaking out of whatever trance he was in.
With each performance that passed, the little paragraph got shorter, smaller, simpler. Like a quiet prayer that was dying down, as the believer slowly lost their hope and faith. It even came to a point where only one sentence was written for a while.
"I hope I see one of them."
Bruce's heart broke a little more each and every time he saw it, but the page that really got to him was when the sentence was smudged, small wrinkles and creases were on the page, and you couldn’t even finish writing the sentence as the end of the 'e' in 'them' dragged out.
What didn't help was when he flipped a few more pages, and found the last performance you had written about. It was a few months ago, but the date didn't immediately catch Bruce's eye. No, no, no, what caught his attention at first was the change of that single sentence.
"I hope the audience enjoys it."
His heart shattered at that, smile fading as he took in a breath. A moment passed, with Bruce just stating at the writing. Wishing for the impossible, and to change things that had already been done. It was too late, but he somehow refused to believe that now.
Finally, he noticed the date and paused.
That... couldn't be right. You used to write in this notebook all the time from what he could tell, why did you stop? Did something happen that day?
If months really have passed... then that would explain all the dust on the box and contents within it, but still, it didn't make sense. Weren't you still here in the Manor? Bruce honestly couldn't think of why'd you would stop writing unless you somehow couldn't reach the notebook, but you couldn’t have left, right? Surely, above everything else, he would've notice that, right?
...
Bruce finally looked at Dick, seeing the oldest just staring at old flyers from various events and such you had participated in throughout your life. A life they never got to see.
"When was Y/n's last performance?" He asked bluntly, getting straight to the point.
Dick glanced at Bruce for a moment before looking back down at your desk. He moved some of the papers around before he found the most recent one and looked over to his father with a raised brow.
"About a week ago, why?"
Bruce looked back down at the notebook in his hand, eyes scanning over the date again before he closed it. Looking back at Dick, he asked another question.
"Have you seen Y/n around?"
Dick grew quiet at that, and after a moment he just sighed and shook his head.
"No, I can't say I have." It was only then did he catch what Bruce may have been thinking, "You don't think they-"
"It's a possibility. We can't be too sure just yet," Bruce just wanted to hold onto his hope that you were still here, and even if the chance was small he was willing to take it. He didn't want to believe that they had pushed you so far away that you would not only consider leaving, but actually went ahead and did it. He wanted to be doubtful, but he couldn't rule out anything. Not yet.
"Just keep looking, I'll go ask the others." Bruce stated as he placed the notebook back in the box and headed out the room.
"Keep looking? For what?! Other events we missed? More ways we ignored them? Things they did without us?!"
To say Dick's guilt was eating away at him would be an understatement. It was practically devouring him at this point, and he could just barely take it.
Bruce paused at the doorframe, sighing as he looked back at Dick, "Any hints or clues to where they could be. Favorite spots they might frequent, places where their lessons were held, people they know, anything." He left him with that, causing Dick to just run a stressed hand through his hair as he took a breath.
Worry and regret heavily weighed down on him, but all he could do was carry it for now. He'd make it up to you somehow. He would, and he'd finally get to hear that song one way or another.
As Dick started his search, so did Bruce.
Bruce did a general search around the house, looking for anyone he came across while also trying to look for you. He thought that if he was lucky, he'd run into you. Even if the possibility was small, it could still happen — or he hoped so anyway.
Just this once, Bruce really hoped for the best.
Though, he did end up running into someone, even if it wasn't who he was looking for.
"Woah, someone looks serious. What's got your bat panties in a twist?" Jason asked, amused, "Actually, wait, don't tell me. I don't c-"
"Have you seen Y/n?" Bruce cut Jason off, getting straight to the point.
The sudden question confused Jason as he gave Bruce a weird look, some of his amusment still remaining but it began to die down a bit.
"No... why?"
Bruce took a breath, fingers twitching, "Do you know where they could be?"
"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Jason's own confusion began to take over, his amusement continuing to die down, "Seriously, did something happen? Why are you suddenly looking for them?"
Bruce took a moment, just looking at Jason before he sighed.
"When was the last time you saw them?"
"... A few days ago..." Jason glanced off to the side.
"Jason."
"Okay, okay! Fine. I don't fucking know! A few weeks ago? Maybe?!" He answered, getting agitated already. "I'm barely here enough as it is, how am I supposed to know where they are!"
Again, Bruce took in another breath, but there was something about it that Jason didn't like. Maybe he inhaled too sharply or deeply — Jason wasn't sure, but all he knew was that he wasn't going to like what Bruce was about to say.
"Dick hasn't seen them either."
"And that's supposed to be a surprise, how? He lives all the way in Bludhaven, of course he isn't going to see Y/n. 'Cause they live here-"
"I haven't seen them."
"..." That was a little more surprising, but just a little more. It still couldn’t mean anything... right?
"With all the shit you do, I would be surprised if you even saw them on a semi-regular basis." Jason crossed his arms, still not convinced — not entirely anyway. Yet Bruce could only exhale softly, the action bothering Jason even more.
"It's just a possibility. I'm trying to find them. Think you can help out?" Bruce clarified before asking. Additional help would definitely be great, especially because it meant that they could find you faster. He could find you faster.
"What makes you think I'm gonna do that?"
"Did know that Y/n wrote a song that's a tributed to you?"
"... What."
Bruce sighed, "You don't have to do it because I asked you to, or even because I want to find them. You can do it for yourself, Jason. But I'll leave that decision to you." Then, he just walked off to continue his search for you, and the other occupants of the Manor. Leaving Jason by himself, alone...
"That bitch-" Jason cursed under his breath as he walked off, deciding that he'll help look. Though only so he could ask you if Bruce was bullshiting him or not, and not for any other reason...
... Wait, you wrote songs? Like, actually?
Jason just shook his head, already upset enough as he shoved the thought to the side. When he found you he could ask, and how hard could that be? The Manor was only so big, and besides, you were just one person. He could probably find you before Bruce if he just looked in the right places, but the only thing now was finding those places...
Okay, so maybe he saw the problem, but still. This couldn't be too hard. You were the only one in the whole family who wasn't a vigilante, and so it was only about a matter of time.
Nevertheless, Jason began looking around as well, trying to figure out where he should look as he mindlessly checked every other room he came across. Where would you even go anyway? He'd probably check your room first but he figured that Bruce had already checked there, and it wasn't like Jason knew where your room even was. Though he just chalked that up to how infrequent his incredibly short visits were.
Still, he didn't even know where to start, and would rather avoid searching the entire Manor if he could. He tried to scratch his brain for anything but he just... had no idea.
Well, okay, he had one idea, but that was only because of one night. Even then he's still not sure it was you who he saw on the-
["Master Y/n? Are you alright?"]
Jason's thought process was cut off by a sudden voice. He immediately recognized it as Alfred's, and a realization hit him. Right! He should look for Alfred first, he'd know where you are. Alfred practically knew everything about everyone in the Manor, so he'd lnow something for sure.
So, he followed the sound until he stood in the doorway of one of the lounges. The television was on and playing some kind of recording, but Jason paid no mind to it.
Confused, Jason called out, "Alfred?"
When he didn't receive a response, he huffed as his eyes drifted to the television. What was playing, anyway?
You — a smaller, younger version of you — stood in a door way, looking out in the hall before turning back to the camera. Big, innocent eyes looking up. Looking at Jason.
You couldn't have been no older than eight or nine.
[You gave a little nod with a small hum, "I'm okay, Alfred. Just... waiting, like you said."]
A small, soft huff could be heard from the other end of the camera, and the camera moved to be placed down a counter of some kind. Which revealed Alfred to be the one having been recording everything so far.
["Yes, well. How about we do a little something while we wait, hm?" Alfred asked, moving a stool closer to the counter — moving the camera again to be placed on the kitchen isle this time.]
Ingredients and tools used for baking could be seem on the counter. The stool Alfred had place was next to where he was standing, and a good distance away from the stove.
[You looked at Alfred curiously, "What are we going to do?"]
["Oh, nothing too much, Master Y/n. But... I do require a bit of assistance baking this cake, that is if you'd like to help, of course." Alfred patted the top of the stool as he spoke, "Though you can always just watch, if you'd like."]
[You perked up at what Alfred said, climbing up onto the stool enthusiastically with a smile. "I wanna help!" You exclaimed, looking over the ingredients before looking back at Alfred, "But... what cake are we making?"]
[Alfred hummed, pretending to think before be looked back down at you, "Well, what kind of cake would you like, Master Y/n? It is your birthday after all."]
["Really?" When Alfred nodded, you gasped excitedly before suggesting your favorite flavor at the time.]
["Well then, let's get started, shall we?"]
From there, the rest of the recording was of you and Alfred baking. With Alfred helping you when he had to, and laughing lightly when you would inevitably make a mess.
Laughs and jokes were exchanged, and it was probably the happiest Jason has ever seen you... which made him feel weird in a way. He didn't like it, not one bit, and yet he continued to watch the old, wholesome memory play out before him.
Jason watched as you got a bit of flour on your nose and how Alfred wiped it off. He watched as while Alfred was deciding on the shape of the cake, you gathered all the different colors and types of sprinkles you could find, and was looking at a particular color of food coloring. How you nearly fell trying to grab the food coloring, and how Alfred just narrowly managed to catch you. How after that, Alfred visibly recovered from the near heart attack he had gotten from watching you fall, and just watched you add the food coloring to the frosting after you had thanked him for catching you, and apologized for falling.
... It got Jason thinking, if only a little bit.
He didn't know much about you, not really anyway. Even if his visits were few and far inbetween, not to mention incredibly short, someone would think that he'd catch onto a few things about you, or just generally have more interactions with you, but he didn't. All he really knew was that you knew how to play the violin really well, but that was assuming that who he saw that night really was you. Even if he doesn't know who else it'd be.
Jason still remembered that one occurrence despite how long it's been since then... but that was for a different time. He had to focus now, but he still couldn't help but watch the little version of you trying to frost the cake without being too messy, but failing miserably.
It did get him thinking about how many small moments he had missed with you, and just... how little time he had actually spent around you.
Obviously, you weren't a little kid anymore. After all, the last time he remembered seeing you — you were already a teenager. Though was that really a good thing? Jason did remember having some kind of interaction with you in the past... but it wasn't much of anything, and even then he probably forgot half of those moments. What definitely didn't help is that you both didn't have each other's phone numbers, and the only form of communication you had was seeing each other in person.
.... Okay, maybe this whole 'finding you' thing was definitely a lot harder than Jason had originally thought.
["... Are they going to come, Alfred?" You asked, sitting in front of the cake you and Alfred had just made together, looking up at the camera that Alfred was holding once again.]
[Alfred didn't respond right away, but did eventually say, "I'm afraid not, Master Y/n, but if you'd like we could wait a little longer."]
[You shook your head, looking at the cake before looking back at the camera, "It's okay. We can blow out the candles now, but..." you hesitated, looking down at the table, "could you... stay with me? Please?" You looked away, embrassed for asking but didn't take back what you said.]
[Again, a soft huff came from the other end of the camera. "Of course, Master Y/n."]
After a short happy birthday song, the camera was placed down on the table as Alfred cut the cake. It was only after Alfred had given both you and himself a slice did the footage cut out.
Nothing could describe the face you made when Alfred said that no one was coming. Just like how Jason couldn't even begin to describe what it made him feel.
Even when a new recording started, he could hardly pay attention to it as all he saw was your face staring up at the camera. Expression not necessarily sad or upset, but it was easily the most heartbreaking thing Jason had ever seen. A kid shouldn't have a face like that. You shouldn't have a face like that.
Jason was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Cassandra trying to get his attention, nor did he feel her even pull on his sleeve. All he could think of was you, sitting at that table all by yourself. Alone.
He just turned the other way, practically stomping down the hall as he looked straight ahead, glaring.
He had to find you. Now.
Cass, on the other hand, was just confused. Watching as Jason stormed off before looking back at the recording that was playing on the television. What about it had made Jason sp upset? She didn't know, but she was a bit curious.
Bruce had already confronted her and asked her where you were, and of course she didn't know either. He did mention something about how Damian was trying to help a little, which was a surprise in itself, and how Jason might be trying to search for you too, and had asked her if she could do the same. She agreed, of course, just wanting to help out, but having run into Jason just now? That was... odd. Especially when he suddenly stormed off like that, but that wasn't her main focus right now. She still had to-
["Are you still trying to record this, Alfred?"]
Wait... was that your voice?
Cassandra turned back to the television, only to see the camera pointed towards the floor.
["Of course, Master Y/n. Just give me one moment, I almost have the camera set up."]
Oh, Alfred was there too? What was going on?
[Light laughter was heard before you spoke again, "Here, let me help you."]
The camera began to move, and as it paned up, there you were. A soft smile on your face, shining colored hues looking at the camera as you made a few more adjustments before stepping away.
Now, you definitely looked like a teenager or young adult. Voice more matured and settled, almost calm in a way.
["There. That should be good, what do you think?" You asked Alfred, tilting your head to the side a bit, most likely looking at the butler.]
["I have to agree, Master Y/n. Everything should be working properly." Alfred then came into frame, moving towards the counter as you moved around the kitchen isle to follow him. "Now, what is it that you wanted to make this year?"]
["Oh! Right, well..." and you told him, already grabbing a few necessarily ingredients from around the kitchen.]
It wasn't long before the two of you started baking again, but this time around you were clearly more experienced than your younger self — not that Cass was aware of that anyway. You both did your own parts, working exceedingly well together as the conversation between the two of you was nothing but natural.
Cass never saw you talk so naturally, or even knew you could bake, but there were a lot of things she didn't know about you.
She could see that in the footage, you were really relaxed and happy. Almost at ease as you skillfully moved about, as if knowing the necessary steps to make what you were hoping to bake by heart, and how you navigated the kitchen made it look as if you almost knew it as well as Alfred did. It was almost refreshing to see you just be so... in tune with your surroundings, and Cass almost wished she had been there to see you bake for herself. Though she could settle watching footage of you bake for now.
Even if she didn't know why you were even baking in the first place until Alfred mentioned something about a gift for your Birthday, and how that led you to talking about some of the things your friends had given you.
This was... your birthday? Just you and Alfred?
That didn't feel right... but then again, she didn't even know when your birthday was to begin with — and now that she thinks about, had you ever celebrated Christmas with everyone? As a whole family?
... She wasn't sure.
["Are you certain that you don't want to wait, Master Y/n? You never know, someone could show up this time." Alfred asked, looking at you with slight concern.]
[You only smiled, "I'm sure. Besides, even if any of them did come, we both know that it'd be on accident." You laughed lightly to yourself, looking down at the pastry both you and Alfred had made together. "I doubt they even know when my birthday is, but that's okay." You looked back at Alfred, your smile still happy but... there was something off with it.]
["I've told you before, haven't I? You're all the company I need in this house. I'm happy just spending my birthdays like this with you." You took a piece of the pastry and ripped it off before holding it in the air, as if doing a toast, and held it toward Alfred. "So, happy birthday to me?"]
[Alfred sighed softly, but could only smile as he took his own piece of the pastry, copying your actions as he held the piece toward you, "Happy birthday, Master Y/n."]
The footage cut right after, and suddenly Cass found herself in a similar position that Jason had been in just a few moments ago. Just staring at the screen, unsure what to do with this new information, the weight on her chest growing.
Had you really spent every birthday like that? If so... then why didn't you tell anyone? Or had you tried, only for nothing to come of it?
The thought alone hurt, strangely enough, and all Cass wanted to do was... well. She wasn't sure.
She wanted to do so many things, and yet she didn't know if anything would work. Or if anything she could do would fix... well, anything at all.
She wanted to try your baking and... and celebrate a birthday with you. Or maybe she just felt obligated to do so after having seen the recording, but a big part of her did mean it. Especially because she didn't want you to feel alone or anything ever again, not after seeing the extent it went to. Though perhaps there was some irony in that thought that Cass failed to realize.
Regardless, Cass found herself walking off too. Completely missing the figure who turned off the television, and unplugged the camera from it that held all of the footage both her and Jason were shown.
Cass was practically speed walking as she checked the library — remembering have seen glimpses of you in there before — while Jason checked the music room, only for both to turn up equally empty. Yet they kept looking. Everyone did.
Dick tried calling and texting you while trying to see if there was anywhere you could be outside of the Manor. Tim ended up helping as he ran into Dick, and was basically locating and tracking down all the places you've been to with the help of your notebooks and awards in your room. All the while listening to some very earlier pieces you've wrote and played on the mp3 player he found in your box.
Bruce was still looking all over the Manor for you, each minute that passed making him more paranoid and worried. What started as a small possibility was growing into a certainty and he did not enjoy that at all. Damian had decided to search for Alfred, since it seemed like the smartest choice if they wanted to end this quickly. Yet when he did find Alfred and asked him where you were, it turned out that Alfred didn't know where you were either.
While yes, he did know some of the teachers and coaches you've had in the past, he didn't know where you were at this exact moment. How could that be? It was simple, really.
Alfred hadn't seen you in a while either, and once that little piece of information spread around the family... what followed after could only be described as chaos.
The Manor was practically flipped upside down as Bruce, Damian, Jason, and Cass searched for you. Not a single room went unchecked, and when they still came out empty handed, their own worries began to fuel each others.
Dick was the first one to suit up and head out, already calling Barbara as night fell on Gotham, with Tim beginning to suit up — yet Jason had beat him to the punch and was out the second the Manor was cleared. Cass was next to follow, with Bruce and Damian not following too far behind. Tim only left after informing Stephanie — and after downloading some of your songs — and telling Alfred to keep a look out just in case you came back home.
In just a few hours, what started as an unusually uneventful and calm, quiet day for the family, quickly turned into one of the most panicked induced searches and painful night of their lives.
All because of you.
---------
You were tuning your guitar calmly, tapping your foot to the melody playing in your head as you hummed. The silence surrounding you was peaceful for a chance, and didn't feel suffocating or as unnerving as the silence in the Manor did.
Honestly, it took a bit of getting used to but after a few weeks you had grown to love it. Waking up everyday and having someone there to not only greet you, but actually acknowledge you also took a bit of getting used to, but you managed much more easily with that.
Sure, there were other things as well, but you eased into it and had come to accept these small things as just parts of your new life. Yet, you still found yourself appreciating and noticing the smallest things, and almost crying over them too.
It had been a few months since you had left the Manor, and honestly you couldn't be happier.
You now shared an apartment with one of your closets friends, and your career helped you cover your half of the rent, as well as other expenses. You had truly found comfort with this new lifestyle, and even if you'd like to move out of Gotham one day — you could settle for this for now.
This, you believed, was what peace truly felt like.
Even when your phone started to go off like crazy — you just took one look at who it was and rolled your eyes, putting your phone on silent as you placed it face down on the table in front of you. You didn't know what Dick and Tim needed so badly, but you were sure they'd be able to figure it out themselves. After all, they were the sons of the world's greatest detective, right? They could handle themselves.
So you just leaned back into your couch, sighing softly as you mindlessly strummed away at your guitar, smiling a little to yourself when the tune was just right. Creating a melody came all too naturally to you, and all you did was carry it on — humming softly as countless ideas filled your head. A small song beginning to form, even if unintentionally.
A song that went on — with the suffering of Gotham going on in the background. The city being cleared out and searched by the vigilantes that dared to protect it, all of it being done just to look for one person. You.
The shouts and screams served as the base, with the shattering of glass and bones being the lower kick, perhaps. The heart beat serving as the tempo, and so on.
So, just as you had years ago, you played on. Calm and happy in your own little world, unaware of the horrors to come — and destruction being made in your name.
–––––
Well, that's long, isn't it?
Might be making a another post that kind of details what some of the others did before everything went to hell? We'll see. Maybe.
Sorry again for any mistakes, especially towards the halfway point/end there.
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Alr hear me out, the service top lucifer with a very insecure reading. (Fem or GN) like he has to coax the reader to like open up (God damn I'm blushing thinking abt it-). Maybe even having to like talk them into even taking thier clothes off. Just a little idea stuck in my head.
Thank you very muchly.
Ooooooohh you’re giving me IDEAS (tbh I’d be the same boat)
~~~~
✨Opening Up✨
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Lucifer x f!reader
Warnings: 18+, smut, nipple play, pet names, oral (m & f receiving), p in v, service top!Lucifer
It has become evident that I am unable to write anything concise 😅
I’M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I MEANT TO POST THIS DAYS AGO 😭😭
Tag list: @trashbin-nie
@yellowsubiesdance
@j-jinxee
@stevensdickrider
@airwolf92
@mrssabinecallas
@myhornybrainonlyknowsthis
@bee-sinner
@thesoccerenthusiast
@katshyperfixations
@logybearsblog
@bigfatbimbo
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You sat upright on Lucifer’s king sized bed, the King of Hell straddling your lap. You don't know how you even ended up in this position, not on this bed necessarily, but how you ended up as Lucifer's beloved. You believed in your heart that you did not deserve him, but time and time again Lucifer has showered you with praise and adoration like no one ever had before. He was perfect. And you were...you. It didn't make sense.
Regardless, that didn't stop him from holding your face tenderly in his hands while he kissed you with a fiery passion. You were self conscious about being so vocal around him during intimacy, but he made it his mission to elicit as many moans and whines from you as possible. Slowly, he reached down to the hem of your sleep shirt, grabbing a fistful of fabric. Your eyes popped open, your mind racing. You pulled away from his lips and went to grab his wrist that held your clothing.
"I-I'm sorry, love," he apologized, releasing your shirt immediately. You sighed and let go of the grip you had on his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you, I should have asked. Please forgive me."
"No, no," you breathed, "it's alright. I'm not upset, I just panicked. I'm sorry."
Lucifer pressed his lips to your forehead and planted a small kiss. "Please don't ever think you need to apologize to me for how you feel, sweetheart."
"O-Ok," you stuttered.
"Do you want to stop?," Lucifer asked. You could hear the genuine concern in his voice. Hard as it was to believe, he cared about you more than anything.
You shook your head. "No."
"You're sure?," Lucifer questioned further, "because if you're uncomfortable, we can-"
You cut him of mid-sentence with a quick peck to his lips. He smiled bashfully, a cute blush spreading across his face. "Believe me, Luci, I want this. I mean I really want this, but..." you found it difficult to articulate what you wanted to say.
"Well, if that's the case darling, what if I go first then?," Lucifer proposed. You cocked your head, unsure of what he was talking about. He reached up and began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top and working his way down. Oh...OH.
Your face instantly feels hotter and your breathing becomes staggered. You tried to say something, but the words caught in your throat. Your mouth had never felt drier. He finally reached the last button of his shirt and you finally see some of his chest. You could almost feel your brain short circuiting.
"Do you wanna do the honors, my dear?," he asked playfully. You gulped as your hands reached towards his shoulders. Gingerly, you slid his sleeves down each arm, slowly revealing more and more skin to you. Once his shirt was completely removed, you couldn’t help but stare. His chest was so smooth and toned, almost like it had been sculpted. “Like what you see?” Lucifer questioned coyly, noticing your unwavering expression of awe.
"W-Well that's hardly fair," you whispered, finally finding your voice, "you're an actual angel. Of course you're going to be gorgeous, I-" you slapped your hand over your mouth once you realized what you had said. "Please pretend you didn't hear that!," you begged through your hand.
Lucifer's face was flushed pink, he could help but smile. He chuckled as he went to remove your hand from your face. "Is that what you really think about me, sweetheart? I'm truly flattered to hear that coming from someone as exquisite as you."
"You...You really think..." you started to say but couldn't finish. Tears began to well up in your eyes, you tried to rub them away before Lucifer could see but it was too late. Lucifer cupped your face and ran his thumbs under your eyes to clear away the tears that had fallen. Your breath hitched, you tried to take in deep heavy breaths so you wouldn't start sobbing.
“Hey, hey, hey, shhhhh,” he spoke with a soothing tone. He removed himself from your lap and sat down next to you, embracing you in his arms. “It’s okay, angel, it’s ok. I upset you and I’m sorry, I never want to be the reason you cry.” He rested his head on top of yours while you clung to his chest. The scent of him hit your nostrils, it was like breathing in a warm spring day. Purely intoxicating. It calmed you down, you started to breathe normally again. You felt safe in his arms, you could have stayed there for the rest of your life.
You wrapped your arms around his torso, your tears finally drying. “Thank you, Lucifer,” you murmured. He gave you a tight squeeze before you lifted yourself back up, sitting at his hip and leaving your head on his shoulder. “You weren’t the reason I was sad, you know? You never have been.”
Lucifer turned his head to you, “Really? Then why-?”
“Because I’m afraid,” you quickly responded. “I’m afraid that I’m not good enough for you. That I never will be. You’re the all mighty Lucifer, King of Hell. You have so much strength and power and respect. And I’m…I’m just me.” You sighed and pulled your legs up to your chest to rest your head on your knees. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“Darling?,” Lucifer spoke at last. He brought himself in front of you on all fours and placed his hand under your chin, forcing you to look at him in his scarlet eyes. “ “Just you” is perfect. You don’t need to be anything but yourself! I understand what you’re feeling, and it’s okay to express that. But please know that I love you just the way you are. You are my true strength.”
You chuckled softly, leaning into his hand that was now pressed against your cheek. You took his words to heart; he loved you. He loved you so much. You had to show him that you felt the same way. You drew in a few quick and deep breaths before reaching for the hem of your sleep shirt.
“Wait, wait, what are you-” Lucifer tried to say, but you were too fast. Your shirt disappeared from your body and was tossed across the room. Silence filled the space, the only thing you could hear was your heart threatening to burst through your chest.
It was at that moment you noticed you couldn’t see Lucifer’s face. His hands had flown up to block his view of you.
“Lucifer?” you called to him.
“Y-You didn’t have to do that, love,” he stuttered. “I never wanted you to feel that you had to-”
“Please look at me, Luci,” you pleaded. “I love you. And I trust you. Let me show you. Please.”
You saw Lucifer’s hands slowly fall away from his hands, his eyes still screwed shut. “Are you sure?” he asked softly.
You leaned in to plant a kiss on his soft lip. Lucifer’s eyes shot open in surprise, you pulled away before he had a chance to react. Blood rushed to your cheeks when you saw him staring at you. Your first instinct was to cover yourself and shy away, but you pushed those feelings deep down. You were going to be vulnerable, you needed to be brave. Not just for him, but for yourself. You gripped the bed sheets so hard that you felt your nails digging into your skin through the silk.
After what seemed like an eternity, Lucifer had snapped out of his trance. He started to crawl towards you on his hands and knees, only stopping when his lips were inches away from your own. You felt his hot breath on you, you were finding it more and more difficult to keep your composure.
“You…are breathtaking,” he cooed, crashing his lips into yours hungrily. His tongue begged for entrance to your mouth, and you happily allowed it. You felt yourself slowly drifting down onto your back as you and Lucifer desperately devoured each other. He pulled away from your lips, trying to catch his breath, but you noticed he wasn’t looking into your eyes. His attention had drifted a little further down. He swallowed hard.
“May I?,” Lucifer asked breathlessly. Your face felt extremely hot and you couldn’t find the power to speak, so instead you nodded your head vigorously. He gave you a cheeky grin before lowering his mouth down onto one of your nipples. The noise you made sounded more high pitched than you meant it, but God, did it feel amazing! His tongue worked one nipple as his hand played with the other. You loved the sensation of him sucking and licking at your sensitive skin, the tiny bites from his teeth driving you insane. He rolled your other nipple between his two fingers, the pinches he gave sent your brain into overdrive. You never knew how sensitive you were, but Lucifer was more than happy to service you.
All of a sudden you noticed a different sensation, you felt something press against your inner thigh, dangerously close to your clothed pussy. It took your brain a few seconds to realize what was happening.
“Uhh, Lucifer, a-are you…”, you mumbled. Lucifer looked up from your chest with a puzzled face. “I can feel umm, I-I can feel your uhh…”, you didn’t know why you couldn’t say it. Maybe you were too embarrassed, which seemed silly considering what position you found yourself in. You pointed down towards your pants where Lucifer was wedged.
“Oh…OH,” Lucifer exclaimed pushing himself from you and onto his knees. “Oh my gosh, I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you could uhh, feel that…please forgive me!”
Seeing him so flustered somehow calmed some of the nerves you had before. It was cute, really. Demon overlord Lucifer getting embarrassed about unintentionally pushing his hard on against your thigh. You let out a small giggle.
"It's alright, Luci," you chuckled. "I'm flattered, really!"
Lucifer smiled, placing his hand behind him to rub the back of his neck. "I'm still sorry about that, love. I'm a little embarrassed."
“Well,” you breathed, “I guess it’s only fair that I embarrass myself too then, right?” Without warning, you grabbed the waistband of your pants and ripped them off along with your panties in one fell swoop. You laid naked in front of Lucifer, whose whole face had turned a shade of red you’ve never seen before.
“Ffffuck,” was all Lucifer could muster. You watched his Adam’s apple rise and fall, attempting to regain his thoughts. Looking at you, it was plain to see how soaked you were.
“Like what you see?,” you teased. Lucifer nodded his head eagerly, still at a loss for words. You lifted your hand and curled your finger, beckoning him to you. Obediently, Lucifer crawled on the bed towards you with no reservations. “You’re not the only one that’s worked up here. Now we’re even.”
“My love, please…” Lucifer whined, “please let me taste you.”
"Don't you...wanna get more comfortable first?," you asked him, knowing the problem in his pants had probably only gotten worse for him.
"Not until I've had my fill of you, sweetheart," he smiled before forcing his head between your legs. The moan you let out was guttural, almost feral, he lapped your folds like a starving man. He took long, drawn out licks up your slit before focusing on your clit. His lips kissed and sucked on your sensitive nub, sending waves of pleasure throughout you entire body. You couldn't pull away if you tried, he had wrapped his arms under your legs so you couldn't escape his assault on your cunt.
"Sh-shit, oh-oh my God Lucifer, FUCK," you moaned. You could feel a smile form on his face as this seemed to have made him pick up the pace. You screamed from his tongue darting in and out of you, feeling so close to snapping. Your thighs started to fold in on his head and you grabbed a fistful of his hair trying to regain some assemblance of control. “Fuckfuckfuck, mmmm…gonna c-cum, aaggghh, gonnacumgonnacum!” Lucifer’s tongue relentlessly circling your clit finally caused your body to spasm, your orgasm causing you to scream out in pleasure. Lucifer didn’t stop though, he let you ride out your orgasm and hungrily devoured your release. Once you finally came down from your high, Lucifer lifted his face from between your legs and flashed you a toothy grin, seemingly quite proud of his work.
“You alright, darling?,” he asked innocently, almost pretending like he wasn’t the cause of what you had just experienced.
“Y-yeah, I’m…I’m fine,” you breathed. “Just…Jesus, that was intense! Give me a little warning before you go all in on me like that again!”
Lucifer laughed. “I’m sorry, love, I couldn’t help myself.”
You rolled your eyes at him playfully. “Oh, I’m sure you couldn’t. Now, let’s get these off you, hmm?,” you said tugging at his pants.
Lucifer stood up from the bed quickly. He undid his belt and let his pants drop to the floor. From the outlines of his briefs, you were surprised that they could contain him at all. Before he could pull at the hem, you jumped off the bed to stop him.
“Allow me,” you offered, getting on your knees in front of him. You reached up and grabbed onto his briefs, snaking them down his legs. His cock sprang free of its cage and hung in front of your face, its tip already leaking. Without thinking, your wrapped your lips around the head of his cock. Lucifer let out a moan that you’ve never heard before, filled with absolute lust and need. You took one of your hands and grabbed the base of his shaft, slowly stroking up and down while your mouth continued to work on his head. You ran small licks against the slit, tasting and lapping all of the precum that was forming. You loved the taste of him.
“Love…f-fuck,” Lucifer panted, trying to fight through his moans, “if you don’t s-stop now, I-I’m gonna cum. I wanna…wanna feel you. P-Please…”
Reluctantly, you pulled your mouth away from his cock with a *pop*, pouting slightly. Lucifer leaned down to grab your torso and tossed you onto the bed like you were made of paper mache. That angelic strength of his always caught you off guard. Lucifer crept between your legs, planting a tender kiss on your lips.
“I promise,” he whispered against your lips, “next time you can finish what you started, but right now I need you. Need to feel you.” Lucifer brought his fingers to your needy cunt, feeling the slickness of your folds. Your breath caught in your throat at the sensation. He took his other hand and lined up the tip of his cock to your entrance. “Are you ready, my angel?,” he asked softly.
You grinned and nodded your head. With that, Lucifer closed the space between you once more with a fiery kiss as his cock entered you inch by inch. Your cries mixed with his as he finally entered you completely.
“You feel…amazing, darling, fuck…” Lucifer choked out. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” you murmured, “I-I’m okay. You can move.”
“Anything for you,” he smiled. Lucifer slowly began to rock his hips into you, his cock filling you up completely with each thrust. You could feel every inch of him ruining your pussy, hitting just the right spot every time. It didn’t take long for his pace to become erratic and uneven. He buried his cock deep inside you, both of your moans filling the room.
“Lu-Lucifer, o-oh shit, Lucifer, I-I’m so close,” you pleaded. “Please don’t stop, p-please don’t.”
“Cum for me, darling. Wanna feel you cum.” Lucifer groaned. He bit down on your should as he continued to pound into you, biting and sucking your tender skin. You were shaking, he was going too fast, you were coming undone.
“Cuminme…FUCKCUMINME,” you screamed and wrapped your legs around him as your orgasm flooded over you. You felt your walls pulsating around his cock, it was too much for Lucifer to handle. You heard him cry out and felt him twitch inside you, filling you up with his hot cum.
Coming down from your highs, you both laid there for a moment trying to catch your breath. You played with Lucifer’s hair as he laid across your chest, completely worn out. A minute or two passed before Lucifer sat up and pulled himself out of you. He laid down next to you, staring at your flushed face.
“Are you alright?,” he asked. “Did I hurt you at all?”
“No, you didn’t hurt me,” you smiled. “That felt…really good. Thank you, for everything.”
Lucifer hummed and leaned up to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “No, thank you, love.”
You chuckled returning the kiss. “Would…you mind if I held you, Luci?”
Lucifer’s eyes widened, but he smiled wide. “Of course not, I’d love nothing more.”
Lucifer rolled on his side, giving you the chance to push your body against his back and wrap your arms around him. You both didn’t move until the morning.
~~~~
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Hope you enjoyed my second attempt at NSFW content lmaooooo
AND YEAH I MADE HIM THE LITTLE SPOON, IT’S WHAT HE WOULD WANT
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moondragon618 · 1 year
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I kind of regret panic-deleting 90% of my blog L
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radiance1 · 7 months
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Gimmie a Danny and Damian twins au, but not one where they're all gushy gushy and huggy huggy about the fact that they're reunited.
I want one, where they HATE and try to KILL EACH OTHER. Where they're extremely fucked up in their relationship with one another, but can't kill the other because Taila hoped that they could get along.
They spew poison at each other, inflict pain on each other as easy as BREATHING and would leave the other while heavily injured while saying that they could take care of themselves.
I want them to be near mortal-enemies wrapped up in the bodies of two highly-competent and powerful 14 year olds who cannot give a fuck about each other, has a fleeting thought of killing the other on the best of days but doesn't because of their dear mommy Taila.
Then force them to interact with each other after a long period of separation. I don't give a flying FUCK how you manage to do it, perhaps Danny has to run because his parents vivisected him, perhaps the Nasty Burger explosion couldn't be reversed because Clockwork said no and Danny is torn or perhaps Vlad brings him to Gotham for a gala (either redeemed or not redeemed Vlad), etc, etc.
Force these two children who fucking HATE each other under the same roof, make them interact, make them watch each other interact and make comments about it. Maybe even make an unstable Danny try and KILL Damian, but is stopped by the batfam, or maybe make it that Danny can't even bring himself to kill Damian because he's (discounting Talia) the only family he has left.
Maybe even (if you go the Nasty Burger/Dead Fenton fam au) make Danny hate Bruce Wayne's fucking GUTS because this man is trying to replace his dead father (even though Bruce IS his biological father) and hates him even MORE because he looks so similar to Jack's face that he's literally torn whenever he sees him. Make it that he never stays in the same room as Bruce whenever he's not in mask, make it that he tells Bruce TO HIS FACE that he hates the man for trying to replace his dead FUCKING dad and that he will NEVER accept him as one, biologically related or not.
Maybe even make him not like the batfam either just for the fact that they associate with both Bruce and Damian.
(I just remembered about that one post I saw, but BOY is this ramble gonna get even WORSE for dear old Danny. Though this part isn't really necessary could just read the on top bit lol)
Maybe they even find a way to take away his ghost side, and Bruce (With or without Talia) say that it's for the best for him, and Danny? Danny just fucking BREAKS. DOWN. He's full-on crying and screaming at Bruce and maybe has to be held back by the other batkids or not, or maybe he's just fulling on trying to hit Bruce and Bruce either dodges or just takes it.
Saying how fucking DARE he take away his ghost side, that was apart of him and he had NO FUCKING RIGHT to take away something so precious from him. Then Bruce could say that he doesn't need powers, he could be fully if not even more capable as a human.
And Danny just goes "You don't even get it, do you?" And Danny just cries harder because technically that was one the LAST things linking him to his parents. His DEAD parents. Sure, the accident was his fault, but phantom was created because of their portal, in their lab, in their basement.
Even worse if the reveal went RIGHT and they starting accepting how he was half ghost and trying to change their views on ghosts as a whole, only to die. Then, for some guy to just, take away something like that from him?
Maybe Danny would even say that, rip into him about how that was one of the only things linking him to his parents and even if it wasn't he didn't have the fucking right to decide what to do with HIS body.
"You never had to fucking worry about your parents not accepting you, I did. They still loved me regardless, they tried to change for me. But you wouldn't even know what that feels like, would you, you stupid fucking rich boy."
[idk why I typed that part out but just role with it.]
Maybe Bruce tries to sympathize with Danny about his parents, but Danny just doesn't have any fucks left to give about Bruce's life, or anyone else life in Bruce's life at all and just shuts it down or steamrolls over it. At the end of it all Danny is just a crying, shivering wreck and stares down Bruce with eyes full of HATE that tells Bruce one step closer, and he would KILL him.
Maybe then Damian (Either walks in or was there the entire time.) insults Danny over his weakness and depending on his ghost form or something, and Danny just sees fucking RED and jumps on him. No care that he's no longer half ghost, so that he means he could die more easily, no care to anyone else in that room, no care that Talia wanted both of them to get along and not kill each other.
He tries to kill Damian.
He fails miserably, of course, but he still tries. Then tries again and a fucking gain.
Then after all that he just, doesn't come out of his room, or tries to escape and leave Gotham every chance he gets. He never gets far, but he keeps trying, and he never opens up to anyone in the batfam, not even Alfred.
He's just a kid who lost everything he worked so hard for, everything he tried to hide from his biological mother and her assassin league who tried to keep whatever he had left. Now that kid is fueled by nothing but pure, revolting hatred for the people who took even that from him.
Basically like Dark Danny, but way more powerless and fully human.
[Okay that's enough of me rambling.]
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a-hazbin-reader · 2 months
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I know I already said this in the comments but I would like to officially request a spinoff oneshot (hc works too) of that pregnant reader post where Lucifer is just trying to talk to his unborn Godchild and then Alastor comes in and is like "fuck off"
If you got other stuffs going on feel free to ignore this, just shooting my shot
Welp-
Alastor X Reader Headcanons
✅️Romantic
❌️Platonic
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TW: None I think??
Description: ☝️⬆️
Your pregnancy wouldn't be possible without Lucifer. Sure, you and Alastor had to do a lot of the work, but Lucifer... made it happen
So you were grateful to him and tried your best to show it, though Alastor was much less kind
Lucifer was also an experienced parent so you would come to him for advice sometimes
Which Alastor always hated, but he never stopped you
When he wasn't fighting with Alastor, then he was genuinely nice to be around, though you know Alastor did start it
When Lucifer names himself the godfather of your child, you don't see any reason to deny him that title
Alastor does though-
"All I'm saying is, we could pick someone better to be the godfather-"
"Alastor! We wouldn't have this chance without him!"
"Uh, you two know I can hear you, right?"
Regardless, you like the guy and don't mind when he starts talking to your baby bump
"Hewwo, widdle baby! Aren't you gonna be a big one~ Yes, you are~"
It is rather big for how far along you are...
You can't help but laugh and be amused at Lucifer's childish antics as he talks to your unborn child
You do gasp in surprise when your baby suddenly kicks at the sound of his voice, apparently taking a liking to the king of hell
Which of course makes Lucifer want to feel the baby kick and who are you to tell him no? Especially when he's giving you those puppy eyes
"Aren't you a strong one~? You gotta be gentle or you'll hurt your mama~"
His words DO NOT help and the kicks only get stronger, almost in warning of something-
Of course, that's when Alastor walks in, and you can practically see the vicious thoughts swirling in his head
He tuts as he comes around to rest by your side, giving your forehead a quick kiss before glaring down at Lucifer
"And just what is going on in here, my dear?"
You've got to calm your husband before he does anything crazy-
"Lucifer was talking to the baby when they suddenly started kicking, so he's trying to calm them down.."
Lucifer is still just cooing and feeling the bump, completely oblivious to the conversation around him
"Ah, I see..."
Lucifer doesn't see the piano that drops on him, Alastor suddenly standing in his place and rubbing your baby bump
"There there~ Papa is here to save you from that little nuisance~"
He starts singing a little song to the baby too, gazing at you with warm eyes as he rests his cheek on you
You'd be upset with him if him rubbing your stomach wasn't so damn soothing...actually managing to calm the baby..
You could almost fall asleep like this...
What were you so worried about again?
"YOU TACKY PIECE OF SHIT!"
...and this is where you take your leave, waddling out of the room to go find some snacks
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For you 🤌
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kpop · 15 days
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K-Pop Spotlight: DAY6
Come one, come all to a K-Pop Spotlight that is sure to dazzle and delight ’til the final curtain. This week, all eyes are on DAY6 following the release of their eighth mini-album, Fourever, and brand new title track, "Welcome to the Show." We caught up with the band to discuss their goals as they approach their 10th anniversary and their ever-growing connection to their fans through their music. Check out our full interview below!
Tracks like “Welcome to the Show,” “The Power of Love,” and “Get The Hell Out” seem to have very different themes. Can you tell us a little about how these songs relate to each other and what aspects make this album cohesive?
SUNGJIN: As we pursue the idea of being a 'band that sings every moment,' it seems like our albums, including the recent one, prioritize diversity in songs and situations rather than unity. Consequently, our albums contain various genres and narratives. However, there seems to be a commonality in most songs, depicting situations that everyone has either gone through or might experience.
Young K: First and foremost, I would say this album is a compilation of the best songs we could create. There's definitely a theme of love running through it. "Welcome to the Show," "The Power of Love," and "Get The Hell Out" all talk about the concept of love.
What goes into creating titles for DAY6 songs and albums, especially those that don’t come directly from your lyrics? Do you find it hard to condense the intentions and themes of a song into a title?
Young K: While there have been cases like that, all the songs on this album came from the lyrics. Sometimes, when choosing a title, we select the one that best describes the song—other times, we choose to give it a twist or make it more intriguing.
WONPIL: Naming songs involves a lot of deliberation. We often contemplate which title will catch the eye and capture the song's essence. Usually, we try to take it from a verse in the chorus. This can be a challenging part of the songwriting process.
Is there a creative project you’ve always wanted to work on but haven’t gotten the chance/found the time?
SUNGJIN: I'm very curious, and have a principle of "trying to experience as much as possible." There are so many things I want to try musically and personally, especially among the things I know but haven't tried yet.
DOWOON: I hope we can have a song that we can collaborate on with My Day, like a choir.
What does your work/studio setup look like? Where do you feel the most creatively inspired?
DOWOON: We try to keep the studio as tidy as possible and make it comfortable for practice sessions.
WONPIL: When working on songs, we talk a lot. We get inspiration from little conversations, joking around, sharing stories, and listening to music from various eras regardless of genre while giving opinions. We also try to build emotional connections with the songs. There’s a lot of communication going on. The songwriting process takes place in the studio of our long-time collaborator, composer Hong Jisang, with whom we've been working together since our debut.
How do you want to evolve as a musician/producer?
Young K: I want to be eagerly anticipated and awaited as an artist. Without those who wait for us, we wouldn't release or even step onto the stage. So I’m always thankful for My Day.
WONPIL: My biggest goal is to make good music for My Day and the public, so I think I'll continue to ponder. When working on songs, I pour my sincerity into them. I constantly strive to express this sincerity musically, fully capturing the emotions I want to convey. I hope to create songs that can still be listened to even after 10 or 20 years.
Design your own Tumblr blog: choose an aesthetic, a blog name, and would you be a frequent poster or lurker?
SUNGJIN: I think I’ll use it to catch up on friends' updates. For the blog name, THUMB BLUR sounds good to me. I might end up being a lurker who never posts.
DOWOON: Maybe a blog for plants? I think I'll post it like a diary.
Want more DAY6? Check out their new mini album Fourever and the music video for the title track “Welcome to the Show,” both out now!
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sabertoothwalrus · 14 days
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I’ve seen you post some labru stuff and I’m curious what your thoughts on it are. personally I don’t see it? I can buy Kabru having feelings for Laios, but I think Laios wouldn’t be interested in Kabru, so it makes me wonder why so many people ship them. (Tbh I feel like Kabru has more chemistry with Mithrun anyway)
Sorry if this ask sounds rude, I just genuinely don’t understand the appeal of the ship, but I want to understand and I trust your analysis of characters very much :] maybe there’s something I’m missing
I really like both ships, actually!
For labru, there’s sooooo much I could talk about. The inherent homoeroticism of being narrative foils. The inherent homoeroticism of being the king’s advisor. All of chapter 76. The fact that Kabru has mask upon mask upon mask, and Laios is the first person that made his facade absolutely crumble.
Kabru struggles with being genuine!!! Everything he says and does is so perfectly calculated, even when he sort of means it. But since Laios doesn’t get social cues, Kabru gets thrown for a loop.
I get so frustrated when people act like Kabru still hates Laios by the end of the manga!!!!! He killed those corpse retrievers for being corrupt, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to kill Laios. He has such a strong sense of justice, and knew that killing Laios would be a mistake. Because, after meeting him, he could tell he wasn’t actually evil. He’s strange, sure, but not evil.
Kabru DEFINITELY wants to be friends with Laios!! He was not lying about this!!!
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But this last comic shows how much Laios wants to be friends with Kabru, too. He’s so nervous after calling Kabru his friend 😭 he doesn’t want to be presumptuous and fuck it up again.
Laios does show an interest in Kabru, at least when Laios thinks he’s interested in eating monsters too. Like,, what was up with THIS
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Laios’s gaze is LINGERING. Plus, (this is before that bit at Thistle’s house when he forgets his name) he brings up Kabru when they first form their plan to eat Falin.
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And maybe this is just because of my own personal experiences, but Laios reminds me a lot of my own girlfriend. I think they have a similar flavor of gay/aspec & autism combo where, had I not asked her out first, she probably never would have considered being interested in me. But she was very down when I did.
The tricky part about labru is more the political aspect. Regardless of whether you see Laios as aroace or not, he’s in a situation where he will probably get married. He had a fiancée before he was age 13, likely betrothed since he was a baby. He’s already comfortable with the idea of getting married because He’s Supposed To.
However, Laios is king, and could make gay marriage legal if he wanted to (He would probably do this for his sister and Marcille before considering it for himself ). But at the same time, I think Kabru would object to Laios making whatever policies he wants without considering the repercussions of how other kingdoms might react, especially when they’re just getting Melini off the ground and need lots of support from other countries. Laios and Kabru getting gay married anyway and dealing with the aftermath could make for a really compelling story.
I do think Kabru would be a good ruler. He’s already fit for it. He speaks a dozen languages, he knows people and their motivations, and likes politics. The manga already joked about Chilchuck’s daughters trying to marry a king, so it seems like noble blood isn’t too important, but Kabru’s foster family IS nobility. When it comes to heirs, I do like trans Kabru headcanons, but at the same time, I think it’d be cute if they adopt anyway. Kabru seems like he’d have strong feelings about adoption given,,, yknow.
The alternative version of labru to this is Laios gets straight married out of obligation, and Kabru is his mistress hdhdhshsj. I don’t know if I could see Laios doing that? or if Kabru would risk the scandal of being outed as Royal Advisor and Regent trying to seduce the king. It could go SO downhill. but maybe that would be fun.
NOW FOR KABUMISU.
I knew people shipped them, and I could see the basis for it while reading, but I wasn’t really sold on it until the very end. There’s something about “I had no desires left. I decided to create new desires, and one of them is you” that’s really charming.
There’s also something funny about “the demon ate my heterosexuality so I’m gay now”
I think it’s interesting that Kabru hates elves. He was raised by them, and he hates them. He hates feeling patronized by them. He made absolutely sure that elves wouldn’t take control over Melini, not just for his sake, but for Rin’s.
But Mithrun’s interactions with Kabru are founded on more mutual respect. Though, that’s not to say that Mithrun doesn’t still have his biases towards short lived races..
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Where Laios doesn’t understand social cues, Mithrun does but just doesn’t care. For that reason, I think Kabru would enjoy spending time with Mithrun. It’d give him a break from his compulsion to calculate all of his social interactions. But at the same time, Kabru is the KING at bottling his emotions. Mithrun is blunt, but also doesn’t care enough to pry. If Kabru had anything bothering him, I could imagine him seeking Mithrun’s company to avoid thinking about it. Could make for a fun dynamic.
I do think it’s funny that Milsiril 1) took care of Mithrun for potentially 20 years and 2) is only four years older than him. I imagine this could lead to funny situations.
I don’t ship things for no reason! I think both of these could work platonically, romantically, one-sided, or even “requited but they don’t do anything about it.” Their relationships compel me and I think it’s sort of bad faith to brush off either like they’re nothing more than baseless yaoi pair-the-spares. To me, I see just as much of a foundation in the source material as farcille.
After all, dungeon meshi isn’t a story about romance, but it IS a story about love. It’s a story about life and death and grief and the love that comes with it. Regardless of shipping, these characters love each other!!! And I love talking about it!!
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elbiotipo · 7 days
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So, to get serious for a moment. If you've been following me for a while you're surely aware of how bad Javier Milei's government is for our country and in particular for science and education. This has affected me very personally, as the recent funding cuts mean I'm basically unemployed right now. This is an undesirable situation to say the least, and because of the general crisis we're going through that affects virtually all institutions in the country, my job search is not easy.
This means I might have to move away soon, perhaps to another province or country, if I cannot find a job here, which is a huge expense I must consider and save for. And also, my family is going through legal expenses (nothing bad, but still a money sink) and I am unable to help them right now. Along with many other expenses that get worse every week (not an exaggeration) given our current economic crisis. So right now, I'm looking for any kind of income until hopefully I can get a stable job.
I would really appreciate if you could consider supporting me on Ko-Fi, even a little bit means a lot here on Argentina. And I want you to get something out of it! If there's something my years of study have been useful for, is to learn about how the world works, and if you know my passion for worldbuilding and love the things I write about it, please, do feel free to ask me questions, suggest me things to write about, or DM me to talk about your writing. I often take my time to answer, but if there's anything I have now, it's unfortunately time. So I hope you consider supporting me, and regardless, you can look forward to more worldbuilding, science and history posts. And Argentina shitposting of course.
In a more professional note, I am also a certified and experienced English-Spanish translator. If you're seriously looking for someone with that skill, you can DM me.
So, that's it. Thank you for reading.
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housethemd · 8 months
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Can’t stop thinking about House pre-infarction.
Like Stacy says he was the same before as he is after but that is so obviously not completely true.
Sure House has always had a disregard for social niceties, always been a genius, always bucked against authorities, but think about the little things we learn about him pre-infarction, and how he behaves while the ketamine treatment is effective.
He played lacrosse in High School. He was a cheerleader in college. He met Wilson at a medical conference. He met Stacy at a Doctors vs Lawyers paintball game. The infarction happened during a game of golf. After the temporarily successful ketamine treatment House goes for miles long runs, skateboards, wears nice suits.
Pre-infarction House was athletic. He cared about his appearance. He was social. He went out and did things and had relationships. Yeah he’s always been a bit of an ass, but he was an ass with a life.
It’s only post-infarction that all of that stops. His relationship ends, he only goes to conferences when forced, he can’t be athletic, he doesn’t want to be social. He can’t be bothered to do more than throw a sport coat on over jeans and a t-shirt.
His addiction aside, all of the above things showcase what a hard time he has coping with having a disability. He doesn’t find new ways to be social, find activities he can do. Instead he isolates himself. He tries to make himself unappealing. He goes to work, and he goes home alone.
The only relationship he manages to maintain is with Wilson, and he even acknowledges that House has changed when he confronts him about his Vicodin addiction. (Yes I know he has brief relationships over the course of the series but none of them can really be compared to his 5 year long, live in relationship with Stacey prior to the infarction, regardless of how one feels about her as a person.)
It just breaks my heart to know that House’s disability took so much from him, and that the resulting depression stops him from trying to seek any type of happiness, and when he does find some he’s convinced it will end.
TLDR: I have a lot of feelings about Gregory House and how his disability changed his life.
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faux-ecrivain · 5 months
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Yan babysitter
(Fourth official post)
(This one is a bit shorter than my other posts)
“Don’t worry I’ll take good care of them!” He placates your parents as they leave, waving them off and slamming the door shut when your parents have gone far enough.
He turns to you, with a rather fierce glare and shoos you off to your room. 
Yan babysitter that wants nothing to do with you, that only took the job because he needs the money. 
Yan babysitter who thinks you’re too old for a babysitter, but he doesn’t care, your parents are rich and that’s all he needs to know.
Yan babysitter who did not anticipate you to be such an irresponsible nuisance. (What’s with the weird cultists that keep knocking on the door and where’s that strange whispering coming from??)
Yan babysitter who quickly discovers that maybe this job was more than he bargained for, maybe he shouldn’t have been so dismissive of his job.
Yan babysitter who, somehow, ended up trapped in another dimension and is trying to escape. (Turns out cultists don’t take too kindly to the door being slammed in their face)
Yan babysitter who is sure he’s going to die here in this strange dimension.
Yan Babysitter who regrets ever taking this job and swears that if he ever gets out he’s never coming to this house again.
Yan babysitter who faces the horrors of this other dimension, each monster warping his mind and easing him into insanity.
Yan babysitter who’s so close to escaping, but then he gets trapped by some weird otherworldly creature.
Yan babysitter whose life flashes before his eyes as the creature nears.
He closes his eyes and can only hope that this won’t be dragged out, he can feel the creature approach, and he can do nothing but curl up into a ball and beg for mercy.
However, death doesn’t come, no, just when the creature unhinged its jaw and prepares to (quite literally) devour Yan babysitter, he’s saved.
Yan babysitter who’s stunned whenever you rescue him and when he tries to express his gratitude you dismiss his gratitude. (This happened a lot, you tell him, you even suggest that it was your parents intention to sacrifice him.)
Yan babysitter, who from then on, is absolutely obsessed with you (he treats you like a deity, swearing that he’ll serve you forever.)
You brush him off, as you are used to saving irresponsible babysitters from the jaws of doom, then your try to ignore his constant rambling about you being a deity. (Because you aren’t, you’re just a normal person with magic powers) Yet, no matter how much you ignore him his ramblings don’t (Maybe you should’ve left him in that other dimension)
He takes your indifference as a sign of shyness, his mind warped by the brief time he spent in that other dimension. (Seriously, he’s going to need major therapy when he leaves this house) He decides to dedicate his life to protecting you or at the very least repay you for saving his life.
Which then leads to him following you around, intervening in everything you do and then isolating you from those he deems a threat. (Mostly your friends)
Somehow, in less than two weeks, he has threatened half of your neighborhood and caused almost all your friends to go missing. 
At this point, it occurs to you that maybe Yan babysitter is a danger to your lifestyle and you should probably get rid of him. Which marks the beginning of your attempts to erase him from existence, however this doesn’t sway him, and he somehow believes that the person targeting him is actually aiming for you.
So, now, you’ve got an overprotective babysitter watching your every move and probably hiding in your walls. (Maybe you should have let him rot in the other dimension, less trouble and you wouldn’t have had to explain to your parents why the demon in your basement is still hungry)
Yan babysitter who promises to always protect you and to be by your side forever. (He’s such a nuisance)
(Sorry for the short post, I was somewhat distracted by the tv when I was writing this.)
(Regardless, enjoy this post and feel free to comment)
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roseykat · 6 months
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TITLE: Venom Biter
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PAIRING: Minho x reader
SUMMARY: The end of a relationship between you and Minho turns as sour as it could ever get. A lovers to enemies trope.
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work or page whatsoever.
TAGS: breakups, hate sex, post-breakup sex, unprotected sex, swearing, angst, manhandling, push and shove, spitting, choking, oral sex (f!reader receiving), angst, strong hints of degradation, use of degrading names such as 'slut' and 'whore'.
A/N: this was originally meant to be for one of the days I had planned for Kinktober but I was up to my neck in work and I didn't want to post something sort of half-assed so I had to hone down on most of the work for this piece.
MASTERLIST
“Broke up?” Chan’s eyes refuse to blink. “You two broke up!?”
His confused filled stare shoots for the direction of his best friend, Minho, who quietly sits opposite him across the table. He looks slightly withdrawn or…off colour. It can’t have been the gruelling two hour lecture they finished before heading out to lunch. If it were that, Minho would be complaining his head off saying how boring it was or cursing himself for not changing his minor earlier. 
He’s just not his usual self. In other social settings, he could talk until the cows came home. But the entire hour that they’ve spent together at lunch, Chan has been doing all the conversing and only receiving vague one-word answers. It wasn’t until he asked what was up with Minho that his friend dished out the news that he and his girlfriend - you, had split up.
“Why?” Chan proceeds, still swimming in shock.
A sigh leaves Minho’s mouth. He truly doesn’t feel like revisiting this subject. When he even thinks about the answer, all he can recall is the firey shouting match you both had the day things crumbled. 
“It’s messy,” he replies with a cloudy and ambiguous answer. 
“If you talk about it, then it might help you make sense of it all.”
He groans this time, “I really, really don’t want to do that. What’s done is done.” 
“Done?” Chan questions, still not letting up on an interrogation. “You were in a relationship with Y/N, for years. You guys talked about a whole future together. That’s not something you just sweep under the rug and forget about.”
If there’s one thing he almost did forget about, it’s that you were friends with him - not just Chan, but the seven others as well. After all, it was Minho who introduced you to those select people whom he calls his brothers. They would’ve found out eventually if Minho refrained from telling them who you were dating all those years ago.
Though naturally, you became very close with them. 
“We’ve both chosen to do that so there’s nothing really much left to dispute.”
Chan’s eyebrows furrow, realising he left out a crucial question to the situation, “why did you guys break up in the first place?”
Minho feels like he’s going to run out of sighs, “she doesn’t love me anymore and I don’t love her anymore. That’s literally all there is to it.” 
“You’re telling me you both fell out of love - at the same time,” Chan responds, still having a difficult time trying to comprehend his friend's situation.
“Pretty much,” Minho confirms with a nod. 
Chan finds that extremely hard to believe from his friend - the very person who would enter a different realm whenever he was in a five centimetre radius of you. His eyes would glaze over as if he were possessed; always fixated on you, he’d smile more than he usually would, and was comfortable in the space around you. 
There had to be another reason, surely. 
But it had almost been three weeks since Chan dissected the news out of Minho, and it was almost like pulling teeth trying to dive for the details. Each attempt was as fruitless as the next and in the end, Chan just plucked the same answers.
Regardless, it seemed to play out better than expected. Minho saved himself from having to dish out explanations as to why you wouldn’t be around anymore. As a result, telling Chan was the best option and since the others didn’t know, Minho was okay with him telling them so that he didn’t have to. 
In saying that, Minho left out very central details of what happened leading up to the breakup. He never mentioned the constant fighting, the lying, the false accusations, the shouting matches, up until the point where you were both swimming in the toxicity the pair of you created. 
He also absconded from the fact to Chan that not only did you both separate, but you’ve also both come to view the other differently and not through a good lens. Minho shouted it in your face the other day to which you did the same; “I hate you.” And that was that.
But his friends probably didn’t need to know all of that. 
Since that day, you’ve been in the process of trying to find an apartment for yourself which isn’t easy. You want to remain in town and not too far out so that you don’t have a long commute to work, and at the same time, you don't want to break the bank trying to find a nice place to rent in the city. All in all, it was tough, but you were ready to just leave. 
Having packed up the majority of your stuff in boxes, all you had to do was wait for landlords to contact you back about possible vacant apartments. Thankfully Minho was lenient in allowing you to stay until you found a place. 
You slept in the spare room, mainly keeping to yourself and the boxes of things surrounding the space. Occasionally you would have to lock yourself in there and throw on some noise-cancelling headphones whenever Minho brought around another woman to sleep with.
It was his house, you knew that and now that you have no ties to him and he’s letting you stay, it was never your place to question his actions. 
Still, that could never lessen the hurt. It was painful which is why you hated him so much. You don’t know how a person could move on so quickly after so many years of being told how much you’re loved. It was like he never meant it. With that being said, when you eventually managed to find a decent place, you were free from Minho. 
All of your items were ready to be moved out, taking a couple of days to actually get them to your new place. In the tiring process, you also had to factor in your work schedule which meant it would take longer to continue moving your stuff. Nonetheless, you had the majority of your boxes out of Minho's house with only a few remaining that you needed to swing by and pick up.
"Something wrong?" he wears a blank look on his face when you arrive on the doorstep to his house.
"Some of my stuff is still here, can I come in to grab it please?" You ask politely. He gives a silent answer in return by opening his door wider for you to walk in before he goes back to whatever it was he was doing.
You make your way into the spare room where the last of your things remain, but there is one odd detail you notice as you approach the items. What was supposed to be taped down lids to the boxes had in fact been opened; not in the state you had originally left it in. 
"Minho," you call out, hoping he heard you.
Sure enough, he did. Minho walks into the spare room with a puzzled expression, wondering why he's been summoned, "what?"
“Why are these open?” You ask, lifting one box off of the other to check if the rest were open as well. “Half of my stuff isn’t in here.”  
“You were coming back for those?” he replies with a question. 
“What the hell else would I be coming back here for?” 
“That's what I thought when you got here,” he says. “I thought it was for other things that you left behind, not ones in these boxes."
Your eyes never leave his face, tracking any sudden shifts in his muscles to try to figure out if he’s actually telling the truth or not. Even though you and Minho aren’t together, you're sure he wouldn't do anything malicious out of spite.
“So why is half my stuff missing?” 
Minho pinches the bridge of his nose, “I thought you didn’t need any of it and that you left it here on purpose for me to deal with or throw out.” 
“So what…” you trail off, expecting his answer. Minho hesitates for a few moments, sitting on the fence about whether he should actually tell you or not. But the least he can do right now is be honest. 
“I told the…girl I bought around the other day that if she wanted anything-“ 
“No you fucking didn’t.” 
“-she could have whatever was left in the boxes,” Minho finishes the rest of his sentence which would’ve been better for you not to hear. 
“What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“What the fuck is wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you for leaving them behind in the first place!” Minho argues back, trying to defend himself here even though he knows he’s in the wrong. “You were gone for a few days Y/N, I thought you just left!” 
“I never left them behind! I told you how long it was going to take my things to move!” You shout at him, tears brimming your eyes. “Now my stuff…”
The hurt genuinely sets in. Minho feels a sharp stab of pain in his chest when he sees how visibly upset you are. He knows that he’s been nothing short of a dickhead within the past month and now he’s gone and made things worse. It’s no point in him now to say that it was an honest mistake.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, truly.”
You shove him backwards into the dresser, knocking down some of the empty photo frames that were once homes for pictures of you and Minho, “you’re not sorry. You’re the fucking worst.”
Taken aback by your actions, Minho turns behind him to see the frames flat on the surface then looks back at you, “seriously Y/N, I would not have done that out of spite.”
“But it’s the fact that you still did it!” You raise your voice at him and shove him back again. “You didn’t bother calling or texting me about it when you should’ve!” 
Minho predicts your next move and catches your arms to stop you from pushing him back impossibly further into the dresser. He shoves you back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed which causes you to land on it behind you.
Before the surprise kicks in, Minho is kneeling on top of you, nearly straddling your lower half as he starts pinning your arms to the side of your head. Yet with a split second of momentum to break free, you struggle but manage to flip the tables and pin Minho on his back. 
You mount his hips before your mouth comes down to kiss Minho so aggressively that it takes him a moment to react. With any other woman that he’s slept with so far, he would allow them to be on top. But because it’s you, and supposedly hates your guts, not to mention his untapped pride, it’s not going to happen. So Minho fights back, kissing and biting nearly every part of your upper body in the process until you’re under him. 
He sucks large, deep, red hickies into the skin of your neck, in places where everyone would be able to see them. Minho would want people to know that you’re just a whore he uses. Especially for the next guy you sleep with who would go down on you and see the myriad of hickies that Minho would eventually put between your thighs when he rips your pants down. 
“Wanna play this fucking game with me,” he rasps before yanking down your off. 
Despite being a dickhead Minho will still eat you out for prep. But it’s not soft and teasing when he does go down on you. It’s tongue and finger fucking you until you’re dizzy from how hard you’re about to cum. It gives you the opportunity to pull and tug on his hair until his scalp starts burning, forcing you to be as vocal as you’ve ever been. 
His fingers curl up into that sensitive spot while his tongue and mouth work simultaneously. He’s always been good at giving head, but unusually better now that he’s relatively angry. In the back of your mind, you supposed it helped having not slept with anyone for a month, making it easier to reach that peak of delicious, eye-rolling ecstasy. 
“Fuck!” you scream out, voice projecting throughout the room as Minho sucks on your clit. “Fuck you…you’re gonna make me cum.” 
Those words are something Minho could never get tired of hearing you say. Even in the headspace that he’s in now, he wants nothing more than to hear how good he’s making your body feel. However, he doesn’t need verbal confirmation from you to know that you’re about to cum. When your walls seize and clamp around his fingers, when you’re trembling around his head, Minho knows what that means. 
The quick drag of his fingers is only light work for him, pumping at a pace that has you panting to try and keep up with it. As a result, it’s not long before Minho brings you to your sweet release; a toe-curling burst of euphoria that has you silently creaming around his fingers. 
He has no patience for you to descend from your orgasm, sucking his fingers clean as he pulls away from your pussy. He gets to unbuckling his belt faster than he can even comprehend that this is still happening. 
“H-Hurry,” you whine, trying to quell the hunger for Minho’s cock while you wait.
His eyes squeeze shut, hissing as he coats his length with your slick, “shut the fuck up.”
Despite being in a haze post-orgasm, you manage to sit up quickly to turn and push Minho down by his shoulders. You find yourself straddling his hips once more, reaching down and behind for his cock, aligning it with your hole. Minho allows you to work for it yourself, watching his cock vanish by the second as you sink down. 
“Mmm…f-fuck,,” you whine, unable to come to grips with how much you miss him filling you out. 
Taking a couple of slow strokes up and down allows you to realise that never in your wildest dreams could you ever imagine hate sex with Minho would be this…rough. Both of you pushing, shoving, and manhandling each other around, speaking to each other with such disregard for the other person's feelings – beyond the point of degradation.
“Come on,” Minho grunts, fingernails embedding themselves into your hips so that the indents remaining become as equally as vibrant as the hickies blooming on your neck. 
You look down at him with disgust before your hand lowers to his throat, choking him out by the sides of his neck. That familiar feeling of restriction to Minho forces him to repress his sick enjoyment of it, even more so when you start really riding him. 
“Fuck you,” you strain out, trying to assert some degree of control even though you’re battling with oversensitivity from your previous orgasm. 
You slam your hips down repeatedly, building up a good pace and rhythm that’s enough for small moans to force their way out of your mouth. With a cock like Minho’s, it’s impossible to keep quiet no matter how much you try. However, as you work for your own orgasm, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction by making him think that he’s the one doing it; yet in reality, he is. 
Nonetheless, you continue to use him just as much as he’s using you until the luxury of pleasure accelerates in the pit of your stomach. In saying that, it doesn’t take long for Minho to find that information out as you continue to ride him. The observation is clear-cut;
“Nobody’s fucked you since me haven’t they?” He asks you breathlessly, watching you roll your hips deliciously over his cock. “Know how I can tell? Because you keep fucking clenching around my dick.”
Your eyebrows furrow, struggling to find an answer for him because he is right and that’s not your fault, “s-so what? Want me to stop?” 
“Didn’t say that, did I?” He argues back, too proud to say ‘no’. “Just…just keep moving.”
A firm hand of yours catches his taut jaw, and while his mouth is open, you lean down and spit right in it. 
You curse right at him, “fuck you.” 
His eyes lock with yours and for a moment, Minho is shocked, but not in a bad way. In that moment you despised him so much that he made you do something a normal person would find disgusting. Although it’s not long before a sick smirk spreads across his face, failing to pretend as if he didn’t just enjoy that, swallowing it back. 
“Course you’d be into that you fucking whore,” he rasps, his body jolting every time your hips slam down. 
“I’m not the whore who’s taking it,” you snipe back at him. 
Your comment riles Minho, resulting in him nearly bucking you off his body before flipping you onto your stomach. He yanks both of your hands behind your back as something for him to latch onto when he pushes his cock back into you, and starts fucking hard and fast. 
“Yes, yes, yes, fuck…” you whimper, eyes fluttering shut. 
The new angle makes his dick slip in just that extra bit deeper, achieving a sensation which you miss all too much. With the amount of relentlessness that Minho puts behind his thrusts is nothing but a fast, brutal, and unforgiving type of fucking. He’s not holding back with you, no matter how much you hate him and he hates you, he will fuck you to tears.
“Such a fucking slut,” he drives forward nastily. “Needy, loud, slut.” 
Your choked moans and whimpers are typical responses to hearing him call you that name again. In bed, if you weren’t his lover, you were his slut. Minho wouldn’t care less if the bed broke beneath him trying to fuck you like the whore you always wanted him to treat you as. But it was phenomenal.  
Now, that’s only a distant memory clawing to come back. 
“Make me cum…make me fucking cum,” you demand, acknowledging how close you are to the cliff of ecstasy.
Minho's breathing picks up from hearing the pure desperation in your voice, and so does his pace. His only release is not but a minute away, respecting that and also his motive to continue rearranging your guts. 
Yet the possibility of keeping up any longer draws to a short term. Minho’s hold on your wrists behind your back becomes a solid death grip with no chance of escape until the wet heat from your pussy has his hips jumping out of rhythm. 
His head tilts to the sky, the pleasure screaming at him from the base of his cock, “y-yes, fuck I'm cumming.”
At that very instant, Minho’s release rocks him over. His hands let go of yours in lieu of grabbing onto your ass instead. The pain and sting of his fingernails scraping deep into your flash forces strained whimpers and mewls from your throat, helping to push you over the verge of your second orgasm. 
“Y-Yes, cumming, oh fuck-” you cry out with a shaky voice, stiffening while your hole seizes rhythmically around Minho’s length. 
The pleasure is throat-gripping, making you forget the words to express how good you feel. Except, in the vapour of your orgasmic haze, you still don't want to accept the fact that it's Minho who makes you feel that way.
He pauses for a moment then thrusts hard back into you, making you keep the warm load that you were so undeservingly given, regardless if your walls are spasming and contracting it out. Then just as he was fast to try to get inside you, he's just as fast when he pulls out and flops beside you.
The air in the room becomes breathable again now that your heart rate isn't racing to the heavens, but picks back up quickly when you decide to hop off the bed and get dressed. You couldn't care less if you were sore and unbalanced. The thought of staying in the room with Minho any longer was suffocating.
“About your stuff,” he starts, filling the silent void with an exasperated voice. “I’ll try to get it back.” 
You zip your jeans up, “don’t bother. I know you did give it away for whatever reason, but for what reason is something I’m betting you’ll take to the grave with you.” 
Minho is up and now following suit by putting his clothes on. If now is the time to get one thing off of his chest, it’s now. Since the day you both separated, there has been no proper conversation. Both of you are too stubborn to admit wrongs and fix rights, but in your eyes, it's too far gone. There’s no going back to a good thing that was once more. 
"I won't if we can just talk it out," he offers the opportunity to you.
“Minho, the nights that I had to listen to you fuck someone else in the next room right after we just broke up was a clear sign that we did not need to talk it out. All it made me do is realise that you didn't actually love me."
“That’s not true,” he shakes his head as you hear a twinge of desperation in his voice like he's pleading his case. "That's not true at all."
"It is though," you correct him. "You were free to sleep with whoever you wanted to because we had broken up at that point, but not a day after that did you wait."
Minho follows through with his explanation, “I was trying to get you out of my head. Spending too long just thinking about you makes me want to lose it. It didn't mean that I never loved you before."
“So you’re just going to continue being delusional? To fuck your way through trying to forget me?” You question, nearly laughing. "I honestly think you're just being pathetic."
He shrugs, “if it means that I don’t have to feel heartbreak, then yes.”
Part of you gets it. Minho’s found a vice and is using it as a tool to deal with his pain. But you’re in pain too, and you haven’t done anything to upset him ever since you split. Maybe it is as bad for him as he says it is. Maybe he doesn’t truly know how to navigate himself out of this like you’re attempting to.
It’s almost a rebuttal to your statement about whether he truly loved you or not; if he’s using other people to drive the thought of you out of his brain because it’s too painful to deal with, then maybe you were more than just a lover to him. 
"I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I cannot stand being around you anymore because of how much it hurts to know that you're not actually with me. I'd rather try to forget your existence in order to not feel that type of heartbreak," Minho explains, his words coming from a place inside him that must've just opened up.
But he continues, "the second we split, I needed every last memory of you out of this house. But I know that this hurts you too and that this past month I’ve hurt you and that’s no justification to say that my reason is because you mean more than my entire life.”
There’s an ache in your chest that you’ve never felt before, a blend of all the emotional pain that could’ve been prevented had the two of you just talked. But that ache is fuelled by the fact that you can hear the waiver in Minho’s voice, and even though his back is still turned to you while he sits on the edge of the bed, you’re sure he’s crying.
-
A/N: Dare I say that I want to make a part 2 to this where Minho and reader try to rekindle, things are pretty tender but they sort of want to make it work...
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icanseethefuture333 · 3 months
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PAC: What your pretty self needs to hear for Valentine's Day ♡
Your heart's message to you + a message from your secret admirer 💌
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They say the truth ain't pretty, but coming from that pretty mouth
The truth is fitting, cause you ain't ever talkin' loud
And you know plenty
Yeah, you know what I'm talkin' about
Cause you just get me
Yeah, you so pretty... ♡
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Pile 1:
Your heart's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Girl by Destiny's Child
Far by SZA
I MISS YOU SO BAD by iKON
The Lovers, Seven of Cups, & Three of Cups
So what your heart wishes to tell to you is that there is still love out there. You may have previously gotten over an ex, a past crush, or you are in the process of recovering from a break up. In the song "Far" SZA asks Sadhguru how to deal with rejection, in which he responds, "That's great! If nobody wants you then you're free." You have to look on the bright side of things. You also have to know what your worth is. No one else can define your worth but you. You have to be secure with who you are as a person. No one can love the parts you need to heal from. Once you feel fulfilled with who you are as a person. That is when you can form healthy connection with others. I believe you still are hoping for you and this person to get back together but you are hurting yourself even more by obsessing over this person (was going to say focus but instead I heard obsess). Reflect on your current situation and ask yourself, "What wound is this person triggering in me?". What do you need to move on from? To take care of your heart you should do some self reflection. Journaling and shadow work would help provide some clarity. Your heart asks you to not fall back into old habits. Self love is important for your growth, pile 1!
Your secret admirer's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Time To Love by Red Velvet
Changes by Jeff Bernat
I Think I'm Falling by KOHH
Wallflower, New Love, & Union
There is a new love coming in for you! This person could be shy and likes to admire you from afar. They could be self conscious about some things about themselves as well. The feelings seem to be mutual here. There could be a new crush that you like and wish to speak to, but are to nervous to ask them out of fear of rejection. Don't fret! Confessing your feelings helps build courage. If the person rejects you, then that just means there isnsomeone else better out there for you. It is not the end of the world just because you got rejected. Have a little more confidence in yourself, you are great, pile 1! Regardless, I see you and this secret admirer actually being intimate. Things could develop into something more serious with this union card. So make sure to be open to this energy and give them a chance at love ♡
Pile 2:
Your heart's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Mine by Slayyyter
ANTIFRAGILE by LE SSERAFIM
Post To Be by Omarion ft. Chris Brown & Jhené Aiko
Four of Cups, Eight of Wands, & The Fool
Your heart does not want to be tied down at the moment! I believe it has plenty of love to give lol. You also have no problem with turning people down or vice versa. You are looking for a fling and just wish to have a casual relationship! You could have a lot of options in love and would like to explore things romantically, maybe even sexually. Your heart suggests that you focus on your happiness and learn what pleases you. Love does not always have to be serious. Sometimes short lived romances have the best stories to tell! You will be feeling very confident and sexy in your romantic endeavors.
Your secret admirer's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Boys Wanna Be Her by Peaches
No Flex Zone by Rae Sremmurd
STUCK IN MY HEAD by Twice
Open Relationship, Mature Woman, & Fun Times
This secret admirer of yours is honestly hilarious 😭. I kept getting meme songs and I hs to shuffle again to get a proper message. This could be my queer pile as well 🏳️‍🌈. I'm getting Renee Rapp vibes from your secret admirer, Pile 2 😋. They could suit the 'girl crush' aesthetic or if it is someone who identifies as masculine, they have a very pretty face. They are open minded, flirtatious, and exciting to be around. This person wishes to tell you that you are stuck in their head! They find you to be "so fine" 😜! They would like take you out soon. I'm getting it will be a bar date or they will take you dancing at a night club.
Pile 3:
Your heart's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
More Than Enough by Alina Baraz
Bluffin by Brent Faiyaz
Mona Lisa by Naji ft. Monter Booker
Death, Six of Swords, & Six of Pentacles
Oh, pile 3, bless your heart 🥹. You are someone who has such a kind, gentle heart. You have the purest intentions and for that people can tell how geniune you are as a person. You could be selfless and caring towards others. You have so much love to give that it is obvious to others. I don't see any bitterness in your heart and I feel like your heart wishes to tell you how proud it is of you for being able to find forgiveness. You are leaning to let go of the people who have hurt you in the past. The essence of your spirit is so soft and it's very beautiful to witness. Your heart's message to you is that anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. So don't ever feel like you are not enough because you're more than that. You are this cup that is overflowing with love and sincerity.
Your secret admirer's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
At Your Best (You Are Loved) by Aaliyah
Freaky Deaky by Tyga ft. Doja Cat
LOVE by Kendrick Lamar ft. Zacari
Dating, True Love, & True Gem
Your secret admirer absolutely adores you, pile 3. They see your value as a person and they know that there is no one else like you in this world. You have so much love to give and they do as well. I am getting that they want to literally treat you like a princess/princess - just overall royalty. Their have geniune intentions as well and they would like to spoil you this Valentine's day ❤. (Channeled song: Kiss It Better by Rihanna 💋) for a few of you, you and your specific person could be separated. I see that things will turn out for the better soon. So have faith in yourself and in this person for things to work out. They could offer you some sort of proposal, love offer, or a token of their gratitude to show how much they love you. I see things would be passionate, flirty, and romantic for you and your secret admirer 🎆.
Pile 4:
Your heart's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Green Light by Beyoncé
Standing Next To You by Jungkook
God of Music by SEVENTEEN
Two of Pentacles, Page of Wands, & The Magician
You are such an optimistic person, pile 4! You could be someone who often gives advice to others and help others look on the bright side of things. You radiate such positive energy and it makes you a joy to be around. You could be someone who knows what they want and goes after it. You know how to balance your heart with your brain. Intuitive but also logical. People wonder how you are able to turn your ideas into reality. Your heart's message to you is to keep going after your goals and not let anyone distract you from your dreams. As long as you are happy that is all that matters. Your heart also wishes to tell you that whatever makes you light up inside is meant for you. Whatever your heart is set on whether that's a new job, house, etc. You have the ability to manifest whatever you desire.
Your secret admirer's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Phone Me by Che Ecru
Novacane by Frank Ocean
Own It by Drake
Passion, Friendship, & Communication
For some of you, you could be currently in a "situationship" or have a FWB with someone. While for others, your secret admirer is possibly a friend of yours. This person is conflicted on how to approach you. You may receive a text or phone call from them soon where they ask you about your relationship with another. They could ask you how you feel about them or drop hints that they are attracted to you. The ball is in your park, pile 4, if you decide to be more than just friends with this person.
Pile 5:
Your heart's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Girl Like Me by Alexa Demie
Fulfillment? By Kilo Kish
Baddie by IVE
Eight of Cups, Two of Cups, & Seven of Swords
I am getting like "manic pixie dream girl" vibes from you, Pile 2. Something about you is hard to pin point to others. Mysterious but also so enchanting. You know you are someone who is complex but also so beautiful. You have these interesting quirks that makes you stand out and memorable to others. You are comfortable with who you as a person and it could have took you a long time to get to a place of being this self assured. You could have a child like wonder as well and it is admirable to others. You could be questioning what direction to take in life and could find "adulting" very hard but don't give up, pile 5! Everything will be okay in the end. Your heart's message to you is to learn what gives you emotional fulfillment in life. Also to not take shit from no one. What's interesting is your face could look quite sweet but you are actually feisty and have a firey spirit. There is a duality to your personality and its attractive. I am getting like Song Jia, Alexa Demie, Wonyoung, & Taylor Russell vibes from you, pile 5. Your heart wants you to embrace your confidence and focus on the abundance in your future. Do not let people drag you down and dim your light. Your heart believes it is time for some self pampering. Set your standards high in love and know that you are deserving of everything you desire. I also believe it is time to burn bridges with people who no longer serve you. How can you live the life of your dreams if other people only acknowledge the version of yourself that no longer resonates with you? If you wish to be the girl of your dreams, you have to learn to put yourself first.
Your secret admirer's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Lilith by Halsey
Ditto by NewJeans
High Fashion by Roddy Rich ft. Mustard
Triangle, Travel, & Spiritual Growth
What is this Single's Inferno?! You have options, pile 5. You could have more than one secret admirer. You could be observing your current options in love and feeling "Well! Let the best person win☺️!" I see people wanting to fly you out and pay for your trips, oh my🫠. One of the people you will date could be popular or have a well known social status. You give people butterflies and some of you may know what affect you have on people, while some of you are innocent to the fact. You could receive love confessions or you may even already have. I feel like you are the type of person who receives love letters, jewelry, candies, and box of chocolates, if not you are going to be spoiled for this Valentine's day! You could meet your secret admirer(s) while traveling or when going on vacation. Your secret admirer's message to you is that they "like you" and hoping you feel the same 💕. They want to understand your love language and words of affirmations / gift giving could be one of their love languages in particular.
Pile 6:
Your heart's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Rose by Miyeon
Honey Dew by Lion Babe
Chanel by TiaCorine
King of Pentacles, Five of Wands, & Queen of Cups
I feel like you are at odds with your heart and brain right now, pile 6. You seem to feel confused about a decision you have to make. I believe you could think things are "sweeter" in other people's lives but that is not necessarily true. I know sometimes we can want what other people have but if it gets to the point of comparing yourselves to others then its not healthy. You have to remember to be grateful for what you have in life. It's okay to want the finer things, but what are you overlooking when you are doing that? Your heart's message to you is to not worry about what other people are doing in life and instead focus on what makes you great of a person. You are just as lovable, sweet, and beautiful.
Your secret admirer's message to you:
Shufflemancy -
Congratulations by Mac Miller ft. Bilal
Little Things by Sunni Colón
Aura by Mariah The Scientist
Work, Money, & Long Distance
I believe you and this person are already in a relationship. If not, your secret admirer will be the next person you end up in a romantic relationship with. This person could live further away from you and has a high paying job. They prefer to take on a traditional role of a provider. This person could have a hard time discussing their feelings though and shows their love through acts of services. While you, I feel you are more of an emotional person. You both could have a hard time expressing your feelings and thoughts properly to each other, which would cause conflict. Things might be tense for Valentine's Day. You and your secret admirer could have strong feelings for each other, but there needs to be an important conversation had in order for this relationship to progress. Both of you could be disheartened by this but there's hope! Try to appreciate the little things in your relationship and not focus on being the "perfect couple", for that does not exist. Every relationship has its flaws and all that matters is that you and you partner love each other very much. If it's meant to be, it will be, it won't be something you have to force, it'll come naturally.
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