#this cup is a symbol of our love

[moonbeamnights]

Ok but the chipped tea cup is actually so great as The Rumbelle Symbol (tm) because of how scared Belle was of what Rumple was going to do to her for breaking it and how it got played off as endearing and romantic and "oh he's so kind" when he didn't do anything. This cup is literally the physical representation of "Rumple gets to act like he treats Belle well because he could be worse but he isn't" and that is the perfect summary of their relationship.

[ahqkas]

Hey so how do you think the bat boys would deal with having a s/o who doesn’t know they have hero identities yet and they find out s/o has some merch of their hero side at their house? S/o just thinks that heroes neat and uses one of the figures as a door stopper so the door does not slam when it’s windy and the windows open or paper weight for important paperwork so it doesn’t go flying everywhere?

♯SECRETS WE KEEP CLOSE TO OUR HEARTS

— gn!reader, kinda based it of the stuff i own !!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

. . . BRUCE WAYNE !

IT STARTED OUT LIKE ANY OTHER MORNING AT WAYNE MANOR. the first rays of sunshine peeked through the heavy curtains of bruce’s grand bedroom, the golden light pooling across the floor. you shuffled out of bed, your feet cold against the hardwood, and grabbed the nearest hoodie to ward off the chill. you’ve never been a morning bird. but what would change it now?

unbeknownst to you, bruce was already awake, freshly showered and shaved, nursing a steaming cup of coffee alfred made for him in the kitchen. he was going over the morning’s headlines of the gotham gazette when he heard your light footsteps approaching. a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. mornings like this—quiet, unhurried—were rare but cherished.

“morning,” you greeted, still groggy as you walked into the kitchen.

“morning,” he replied, glancing up from the paper. the casual warmth in his voice faltered the moment his eyes landed on your figure.

you were wearing that hoodie. black, oversized, and emblazoned with a bright yellow bat-symbol on the front. he recognized it immediately—he’d seen it on display in some tacky downtown gotham shop months ago. he’d even scoffed at the inaccuracies back then, not expecting you to own one, let alone wear it. and now you were draped in his merch.

bruce blinked, caught off guard, but quickly schooled his expression back into neutrality. “what are you wearing?” ( curiosity on the outside , panic on the inside ) . what if you knew of his nighttime activities?

glancing down at yourself and your choice of clothing, you tugged at the hem absentmindedly. “oh, this? yeah, i love it. it’s super comfy. got it on sale a while back.”

“you’re a fan of batman?”

you gave him a curious look. “who isn’t? he’s gotham’s hero. besides, the bat-symbol looks pretty cool.” you shrugged, heading to the coffee maker. “though i guess it’s a little weird wearing merch of someone who’s technically, like, a crime boss for good.”

bruce choked on his coffee, barely masking it with a cough. “crime boss?”

“well, think about it,” you teased, pouring yourself a mug of the dark liquid. “he’s got henchmen—like robin and nightwing—and a lair filled with gadgets. he’s just . . . on the good side.”

the batman fought the urge to laugh. he leaned back in his chair, observing you with a mix of affection and amusement. who knew he had such a lovie around his finger? “that’s one way to look at it,” he replied smoothly, though he couldn’t help but feel a small swell of pride.

you turned, leaning against the counter, and sipped your coffee. “why? you don’t like him?”

his brows arched, genuinely curious. “what makes you say that?”

“you’re awfully neutral about the guy for someone who lives in gotham. most people either think he’s amazing or a total menace. you’re, like, switzerland on batman,” you said, narrowing your eyes playfully.

“let’s just say . . . i have a unique perspective.”

. . . DICK GRAYSON !

IT WAS ONE OF THOSE LAZY AFTERNOONS WHERE THE TWO OF YOU HAD DECIDED TO STAY IN. the sun filtered through the curtains of your cozy apartment, casting warm, golden light across the room as you lay curled on the couch, scrolling through your phone, while dick was sprawled in an armchair across from you, pretending to do his own stuff at his phone but mostly watching you with a soft smile tugging at his lips.

everything was perfectly normal—until he noticed what you were wearing.

it was a t-shirt, oversized and clearly one of your go-to comfy options. but not just any shirt. emblazoned across the chest was the bold, angular symbol of nightwing, printed in that unmistakable electric blue. now that got his attention.

dick blinked, lowering the glowing screen slightly to get a better look at you. for a moment, he felt a mix of pride, amusement, and sheer panic wash over him. you had nightwing merch? did you know? were you teasing him? or had you just picked it up as a casual fan of blüdhaven’s vigilante? there were so many questions but so little answers.

“nice shirt,” he commented casually, though his voice had an edge of curiosity, asking you with saying the question out loud.

you glanced up, oblivious to his sudden attention. “oh, this?” you plucked at the hem and grinned. “yeah, i thought it was cool. i found it at this little street market the other day. plus, the guy’s kinda awesome, you know?”

he quirked a brow, trying not to look too amused. “kinda awesome?”

“okay, really awesome,” you gave in with a laugh. “i mean, he’s out there keeping blüdhaven from going completely off the rails. and unlike some other heroes, he doesn’t have a million-dollar budget or fancy gadgets. he just . . . handles it.”

your boyfriend leaned back in the plush chair, a smirk tugging at his lips. “sounds like you’re a pretty big fan.” talk about narcissism.

“well, yeah, who wouldn’t be? he’s smart, agile, and has a heart. plus, have you seen his—” you caught yourself, suddenly looking flustered and with a good reason. you were caught ranting to your boyfriend about nightwing.

“seen his what?” dick was intrigued even more now after your little slip up, leaning forward with his smirk deepening. oh, he was just starting.

you waved a hand dismissively, your cheeks flushing under his gaze. “nothing. forget i said anything.”

“uh-huh. sure. so, did you pick that shirt just because you’re a fan, or . . . ?”

you tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at his suspiciously amused tone. “what’s with the third degree, grayson? are you jealous or something?”

“me? jealous of a guy in spandex? never,” he replied with mock indignation. but the way his lips twitched betrayed his amusement—and the fact that he was having way too much fun with this.

“good,” you teased, leaning back into the pillows. “because if i ever run into him, i’ll totally make sure to tell him my boyfriend is completely secure and not at all threatened by a superhero.”

dick laughed, shaking his head a little. “oh, i’m sure he’d be very flattered to hear that.”

seeing you in his symbol was both endearing and a little surreal. part of him wanted to come clean right then and there, to tell you that the guy you admired so much was sitting right across from you, teasing you about your t-shirt. but for now, he decided to keep his secret.

still, as he watched you lounge in that nightwing tee, a soft warmth bloomed in his chest. if you only knew the truth, he had a feeling you’d still think he was kind of awesome—though he wasn’t sure you’d ever let him live down the spandex comments.

. . . JASON TODD !

IT WAS A BREEZY SATURDAY AFTERNOON, and the windows of your small apartment were wide open, letting the crisp, cool air in. papers were strewn across your desk as you worked on sorting through bills and notes. to keep the occasional gust from scattering everything, you’d grabbed the closest thing you could find—an action figure.

( not just any action figure, though. )

sitting proudly on top a stack of papers was a small, highly detailed replica of gotham’s infamous red hood, complete with his signature leather jacket, red helmet, and pistols. even the little red bat on his chest matched the original.

your boyfriend walked in, carrying takeout bags in both hands as he kicked the front door shut behind him, his boots making soft thuds against the floor. “babe, i got—” he froze mid-sentence when he spotted the figure perched on your desk. his eyes narrowed as he tilted his head, trying to process the absurdity of the situation.

no fucking way.

“is that . . . ?”

you glanced up briefly, barely registering his confusion. “huh?”

he set the bags down on the counter, crossed the room in a few strides, and picked up the small figurine. jason held it up, examining it with an almost comical mix of horror and amusement on his face.

“this,” he said, gesturing to the action figure like it had personally offended him, “is red hood merch.”

“yeah, and?” you replied nonchalantly, not looking up from your stack of papers.

“and?” he repeated, incredulous. “why do you even have this? do you collect vigilante merch or something?”

“no, i just saw it at some random shop a while ago. i thought it looked cool, so i bought it. plus, he’s kind of a badass.”

jason blinked, caught between pride and disbelief. “you think he’s a badass?”

“yeah, don’t you?” you finally looked up at him. lips curving into a teasing smile. “what, are you jealous of a figurine now?”

his jaw ticked, his expression unreadable as he turned the figure over in his hands. “jealous? no,” he muttered, though the tightness in his voice suggested otherwise. “i just think it’s funny that you’re using this to keep your papers from flying out the window. kind of disrespectful to the guy, don’t you think?”

you laughed. “oh, please. i’m sure gotham’s notorious anti-hero doesn’t care if his likeness is helping me with my paperwork. honestly, he should feel honored.”

“honored?” jason echoed, his lips twitching into a smirk despite himself. “yeah, i’m sure that’s exactly what he’d feel.”

you leaned back in your chair, watching him with a curious glint in your eyes. “what’s with the attitude? are you secretly a red hood fanboy or something?”

he rolled his eyes, setting the figure back down on your desk—albeit more carefully than he’d picked it up. “oh, yeah, totally. i’ve got a whole shrine dedicated to him at home.”

“hm, i bet you do,” you teased, grinning as you watched him retreat to unpack the takeout.

jason shook his head, his smirk lingering as he pulled out the food. internally, he was debating how to feel about the whole situation. on one hand, the fact that you admired red hood (even if you didn’t know it was him) was oddly flattering. on the other, the sight of his miniature self keeping your papers in line was downright hilarious.

as he set the table, he couldn’t resist throwing a final jab over his shoulder. “just saying, if you’re such a big fan, you should probably treat him with more respect. maybe let him do something cooler than babysit your bills.”

“oh, relax,” you shot back, laughing. “if he has a problem, he can come tell me himself.”

jason snorted, shaking his head as he brought the plates over. “careful what you wish for, babe.”

don’t be surprised when red hood comes knocking on your door, sweetheart!

. . . TIM DRAKE !

THE NIGHT WAS CLOSING IN and tim was stretched out on your couch in your apartment, his phone resting on his lap as we tiredly watched the tv. the soft hum of the crime documentary filled the background as you dug through your bag by the door, fishing around for your keys.

“found them!” you declared, holding them up triumphantly.

tim glanced over with a small smile tugging at his lips. you were adorable like this, excited over the smallest things. “that’s a lot of enthusiasm for finding keys.”

you walked over, jingling the keyring in the process. “it’s not about the keys, it’s about this little guy.”

you held up the ring, pointing specifically at a tiny lego figure hanging off of it. the miniature figure wore a domino mask and a red-and-black suit with a yellow “R” emblazoned on the chest—a miniature red robin.

your boyfriend froze on the spot. his brain seemed to hit a wall as he stared at the tiny version of himself dangling from your keys. the little figure swayed slightly, as though mocking him.

“ . . . where did you get that?”

“oh, isn’t it cute?” you beamed, completely unaware of his internal crisis. “i found it in one of those comic stores a while back. thought it’d make a perfect keychain. and it has! look at him, so heroic, guarding my keys.”

tim blinked, unsure whether to laugh or groan. heroic? lego him? guarding your keys?

“you’re a fan of red robin?” he asked carefully, tilting his head.

you shrugged, plopping down onto the spot on the couch beside him, immediately leaning into his warmth. “i mean, yeah. who isn’t? he’s kind of underrated, though, don’t you think?”

“underrated?”

“yeah!” you set the keys on the coffee table and turned to him. “i mean, everyone talks about batman and nightwing—and robin, obviously—but red robin? he’s like . . . the smart one. the strategic one. he deserves more credit, you know?”

tim raised an eyebrow, trying not to look too smug. “so, he’s your favorite, then?”

“mmm,” you pretended to consider. “he’s up there. though nightwing’s a close second. sorry, but the guy’s got moves.”

he snorted, leaning back against the couch. “can’t argue with that.”

“but red robin’s, like, the total package,” you continued, gesturing animatedly. “he’s clever, he’s got that whole detective thing going on, and he doesn’t get as much attention, so he’s probably not as cocky as some of the others.”

your hero boyfriend choked on his laugh. “not as cocky?”

“yeah, he strikes me as humble, you know?” you leaned forward, picking up the keychain again and holding it up like it was a sacred artifact. “plus, he’s got great taste in suits. red and black? iconic.”

tim bit the inside of his cheek, struggling to keep a straight face. “so you carry him around everywhere?”

“of course,” you said, grinning. “he’s like my little sidekick. protects my keys from danger. well, mostly from me losing them, but still.”

he shook his head, unable to hide his smile anymore. “you’re something else, you know that?”

part of him wanted to tell you right then and there that the figure you adored so much was literally him—but there was something too sweet, too hilarious about the situation to ruin it just yet. besides, you looked genuinely happy talking about red robin, and he kind of liked seeing himself through your eyes, even if you didn’t know it. he made a silent vow to tell you the truth soon. but for now, he let you keep your little lego protector, amused and endeared by the fact that you unknowingly carried a tiny version of him wherever you went.

[blackpearlblast]

[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]

@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.

This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.

The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.

I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚☀️・₊✧ 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗶'𝘀 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 & 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗶𝗱𝗻'𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 ♡₊˚☀️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 he's obsessed to the max 𖥔 ceo x baker 𖥔 grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 she talks a lot x he listens a lot 𖥔 spoils the literal shit out of you 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content in vague details 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 super soft nanami 𖥔 close proximity 𖥔 he loves kissing the fuck out of you

: ̗̀➛ words: 7.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: you guys are so sweet for supporting my toji fanfic which is why i wanted to write another and this time its about my husband, the father of our children, the man who deserves every beautiful thing in this world. if you enjoy my work, please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy!

Nanami Kento entered your bakery at exactly six o' clock.  

You carefully observed the moments he dedicated to perusing the array of pastries, the vibrant mountain of macaroons, and the freshly baked, warm casse-croûte that you unfailingly prepared for him when he clocked out. There was a tender quality to his countenance, noticeable in the slight release of tension between his brows as the soft, buttery flakes dissolved on his tongue in your presence. Without fail, he consistently left a generous tip in your travel jar, dedicated to a solo trip to Malaysia.

"Did you know they've got this thing about not wearing yellow in Malaysia?" you mentioned during your initial meeting, eyeing the distinctive black-dotted tie worn by the stoic salaryman. "Well, not that your tie would get you in trouble; it's not entirely yellow. In fact, I think it's perfect as it is, just like your hair, which also has a touch of yellow.” 

Please cut your tongue off. 

Anticipating a polite nod and perhaps a slightly regretful five-dollar tip left in the jar, you were taken aback when he queried, “Why is that?” 

“Oh, uh . . . a bunch of protesters wore the color during a demand for their prime minister to step down," you stumbled, feeling a twinge of embarrassment for veering off into an unintentional crash course. Dropping trivia about Malaysia wasn't exactly the same as flirting. "So, it's kind of become a symbolism for protest and, well, threat. I read it in a book once. I don't know if it's a legitimate law, though."

“Do you like reading?” he asked, still interested in conversing with you. “Most people would Google information.” 

“I like reading. It’s easier to retain information that way.” 

Nanami acknowledged your gesture with a nod of gratitude as he accepted the casse-croûte and exited your bakery. Anticipating that he might not return due to his reserved nature and your awkward attempts at compliment-flirting, you were surprised to find that he was, in fact, full of surprises.

Nanami became a regular visitor. Day after day, for the past year, he arrived at precisely six o' clock. He continued his routine, whether he purchased a box of pastries, a pair of bagged bread loaves, or simply a casse-croûte and a small cup of milk coffee. You always prepared his order five minutes ahead of time, just in case you were occupied with other customers.

"Enjoy!" you chirped, casting a warm smile at the customer you just served as the bakery slowly emptied, leaving only Nanami browsing the delightful array of small cakes. "Good evening, Mr. Nanami!"

Nanami raised his head in your direction. "Good evening." He finally settled on the black forest cake from the open freezer and brought it to the counter.

"Special occasion?" you inquired as you rang him out, sneakily not charging him for the casse-croûte and coffee. There was a special occasion of your own that you were eager to share, hanging from the tip of your tongue.

"An intern's birthday."

"Sounds fun!" You had been saving up for your birthday present since summer, and Nanami had played a significant role. "When's your birthday?"

"July third."

Your eyes widened with surprise. "No way! Mine is July sixth. We’re summer babies."

“Happy belated birthday,” he said, fishing for his wallet, gaze barely meeting yours. 

"Same to you." Offering the sandwich and coffee, you extended them towards him. "Consider it a belated birthday treat."

Nanami’s brows crinkled. “I cannot accept.” 

"Why not? It's a gift." You slid the items closer with a subtle nudge, leaving him little room to refuse. "And you've given me a priceless gift, Mr. Nanami." Your eyes hinted at the tip jar's location, which now lay empty. 

“Were you robbed?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. 

“What—? No! Oh my god. You’re so funny.” A chuckle escaped behind your fist, and he observed you momentarily before glancing away. "I'm heading to Malaysia next week!"

Nanami gave a subtle nod. Although his lack of a more animated response disappointed you, you understood that shortness was his nature. "Congratulations.”

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami. Your generous tips really made a difference. They covered half of our trip.”

“Our? It’s not a solo trip?”  

You let out a little nervous laugh. Should you really be telling Nanami about your crippling love life? Would he even be interested? Well, he seemed to listen carefully when you talk. Maybe he wouldn’t care, but you really needed someone to talk to about this. Unfortunately, all your friends were too busy with their marriages to care.

“Well?” Nanami prompted. 

"Right, sorry. It's just—I've actually been seeing someone. Funny enough, we met in a Facebook group for solo travelers. He lives in a nearby town.”

Unexpectedly, Nanami's first question caught you off guard. "Can you trust him?" His concern surfaced, causing you to pause. "I'm only asking because you met this man online. You can't trust strangers on the internet."

"Thank you, Mr. Nanami, but I’m capable enough to know about stranger danger," you said with a funny smile, dismissing his parental concern. "Besides, we’ve gone on a few dates over the past month."

Nanami's frown remained intact. "Correct me if I’m wrong, but are you paying for him, too?"

"Yes."

“Why?” Nanami asked, firmly placing his palms on the counter, making it clear he wasn't leaving until he was convinced you wouldn't get in trouble during your Malaysian adventure.

"What do you mean 'why'?"

His mouth opened but then closed into a thin line, his forehead lines deepening. "It’s not my place to tell you what’s right and what isn’t—"

"Yes, you’re right about that," you interrupted.

"—but this is bordering on recklessness. You cannot use your trip’s money to pay for a man you’ve known for a mere month. Why is he even in the traveler’s group if he cannot afford to pay for himself?"

"Mr. Nan—"

"You are being scammed." 

Your teeth clenched together. You rarely got impatient. Years in the hospitality industry and dealing with misogynistic tenants didn't break you. Even setting up your bakery and almost draining your savings didn't dim your optimism. 

But getting scolded by someone who barely spoke more than five sentences to you in a whole year of being a regular? That's pushing it.

He didn't know you or Toji, the guy you're seeing. He didn’t understand how much you appreciated him accompanying you. So what if you covered his share of the trip expenses? Toji promised to pay you back, and he's been paying the bills for your dates. They might not be fancy, but it's the gesture that matters.

Sure, Nanami chipped in some money, and you're thankful for that. But he has no right to question you. Other people also contributed to your travel fund; it's not like he single-handedly financed the whole trip. You appreciated his support, but he was not in a position to lecture you.

With a sigh, you managed to contain your frustration and said, "Have a great rest of your night, Mr. Nanami.”

Nanami's frustration was palpable as he stood firm, his gaze piercing through the windows of your soul. “I suggest you take my advice into serious consideration. It would greatly upset me if you had the chance to visit one of your favorite countries taken from you.” 

You didn't bother watching him go. Instead, your discovery awaited you at the counter—the money for the coffee and casse-croûte lay there, accompanied by a crumpled yellow note that had slipped to the floor. Moving around the counter, you picked it up and smoothed out its wrinkles.

What greeted you was your own name scrawled across the sticky note, repeated around fifty times, the letters overlapping in a chaotic dance. Some were hastily scratched out, while others were executed with perfect cursive precision. You didn’t know what to make of it.

During your confusion, a new customer walked in. Quickly, you pocketed the note, focused on carrying on with your day despite the lingering frustration that Nanami's cryptic message had left in its wake.

Toji never showed up.

You waited for him for two agonizing hours, extending the torture even more after your flight had taken off. It dawned on you that he likely didn't bother getting a ticket. He probably pocketed the money you sent him and vanished into thin air. Every attempt to reach him failed miserably—your calls were forwarded, and the fifth one hammered the heartbreaking truth that he had blocked your number. To compound your misery, you sent him a string of text messages that refused to deliver your pain. You didn't even know where he lived, as your encounters were always in the obscure locations of your budgeted dates.

The thought of reporting him to the police crossed your mind, accusing him of theft, but the lack of photographic evidence left you helpless. To make matters worse, he hated taking pictures, and you were uncertain if the name he provided was even real. All that remained was a flicker of hope that you might cross paths with the bastard and unleash your pent-up rage with a hard kick to his dick. 

With a heavy heart, you gathered your strength, brushed away the tears until not a single trace remained on your lashes, and lugged your suitcase and carry-on outside the airport, hoping to hail a cab.

The idea of facing the upcoming days at work felt agonizing, goading you to spend them in the isolation of your shabby apartment. You were engrossed in a depressing routine—microwaved dinners, aimless hours on the couch, and a marathon of old cable TV shows.

As hunger struck again, you contemplated your options. Baking seemed like a possibility, but motivation had abandoned you. Pasta could be an option, but the lack of noodles and tomato sauce made it impractical. So, you settled for the one thing that required no ingredients: crying.

At least that was free. 

Despite the inner turmoil, you mustered the strength to shoulder your overcoat, sporting your fleece pajamas printed with candy canes and well-worn second-hand boots. 

The short walk to the corner store felt longer than usual, the biting cold making you clutch your threadbare coat tighter. Your teeth chattered in protest as you entered, and the rush of warm air was a momentary relief against the chill. Fingers numb, you mindlessly reached for familiar comfort snacks—chips, chocolate milk, anything to dull the ache.

A hand much larger than yours beat you to the last packet of croissants.

���Ah, sorry.” You let it go. “All yours—” You choked as you looked up, and up, at Nanami staring at you wide-eyed, his hazel eyes flickering at a rapid speed as if he were hallucinating your presence. Your face flushed with embarrassment, and the weight of the past five days crammed upon you—his uncanny prediction, your own naivety, and the sting of being swindled. “Mr. Nanami . . . ”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in—”

“Good night.”

With a dismissive shake of your head, you left the basket on the counter, mumbled a quick apology, and retreated back into the biting cold. 

You’ve faced tons of humiliating moments—slipping in front of customers, your purse strap getting snagged in a door and dragging you back, and that one unforgettable instance when a little boy labeled your eyebrows as caterpillars in front of a line of onlookers. Yet, none of those incidents could hold a candle to the awkwardness of bumping into the very man who had warned you about the ill-fated choice of paying for a stranger's trip—stranger now—when it was supposed to be your trip. 

You felt a firm grip on your wrist, making your restless pacing suddenly stop.

Startled, you turned around to find a pair of expressionless hazel eyes and a slightly out-of-breath figure. Now is not the time to ogle Mr. Nanami’s broad shoulders, you idiot!

Releasing your wrist, he handed over a white, plastic bag. With a raised eyebrow, you peered inside to inspect its contents. It held everything from your shopping basket, including the last packet of croissants. Even more unexpected, he had paid for it all. 

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” you assured, your eyes already scanning for the nearest ATM, just in case you forgot. "But for now." You pulled out the packaged croissants and extended them toward him. Your body was shaking, not because of November but because of how you were scammed after being forewarned by Nanami. “Please. Take it.” 

He took your small hand in both of his, the warmth immediately melting the tension in your body. “So cold.” 

A soft giggle escaped you at the obvious observation, and you placed your free hand on top of his. "So warm." Sniffling, tears welled up in your eyes. "You know what else is warm? The sun. And it's yellow. It's so yellow."

“Factually speaking, it is white.” 

You wiped an arm across your nose. “What?” 

“The sun. It’s white. It’s only yellow in children's books.” 

You weren't about to argue with the guy who vindicated your slip-ups. Still, given the circumstances, you wished he'd soften the bluntness and let you bask in the illusion that the sun was a simple shade of yellow.

"I've always loved the color yellow," you mumbled. "Maybe getting scammed was a blessing. I'd probably get fined for wearing yellow otherwise. I couldn't afford to mess up on my trip. Besides, it all depends on the shade, right? Imagine how many fines I'd rack up just testing which shade of yellow suits me—"

Nanami tugged you close, capturing your lips with his.

A sharp intake of breath filled your lungs, eyes widening in surprise. Instinctively, your hands pushed him away, fingers grazing your tingling lips.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Fuck. I’m so sorry.” 

“No, it’s okay. Don’t—Don’t worry. About it.” You tucked your lips in and tasted chocolate and mint—two of your favorite combinations. Nanami always seemed like the kind of man who would hate both flavors independently and dependently. “You’re okay. I mean—You’re okay in general. You’re not okay with kissing. You’re probably great, I’m sure.” Your tongue traced the curve of your lower lip, and Nanami’s eyes followed the motion. “Oh, God. I’m so sorry.” 

You walked up to him, grabbed the lapels of his coat, and tugged him down a notch, your lips colliding with his. 

Nanami's touch was calculated, his hand sailing onto your cheek, feeding warmth to your cold ear before vanishing into the labyrinth of your hair. Simultaneously, the other serpentined to the small of your back, his magnetic energy drawing you snugly against his chest. His warm tongue delicately swept across your lower lip, an unspoken cue that encouraged you to part your lips in response.

Nanami deepened the kiss, your tongues stroking against one another feverishly as if it were your last kiss. Who knows? Maybe it could’ve been. But the way he kissed with such desperation, releasing soft moans, not allowing you a moment to catch your breath, made you think that maybe this was just the start.

And you kissed him back just as needy.

If your hands slightly released their hold on his lapels, you'd gently cup the sides of his neck, rising on your tiptoes. And if your calves protested, you'd draw him down, wrapping your arms around his neck, your fingers entwining in his pale, golden locks. The taste of mint chocolate lingered on your lips, and a smile curved on your mouth as he stole a quick peck, pulling back just to gaze into your eyes for a moment before kissing you again.

You’re not sure how long you two stood and kissed there. Nanami was the one who always took the lead, savoring the taste of your pink, tender tongue, kissing your chilly cheeks and dewy eyes. The desire for each other made it hard to break away, yet the need for a breath of air was undeniable.

Finally, you decided to be the one to step back, signalling the end of your first kiss with him.

Your bottom lip tingled as you pulled it in, jaw aching from the infectious smile that had taken over your face. You couldn't help stealing glances at the tall man before you, who returned your gaze with a soft, almost imperceptible grin. Yet, in his eyes, under the gentle glow of the streetlight, you could see the excitement and joy of kissing you, twinkling brightly.

“I'm gonna—”

“I should—”

Both of you sighed; you with a soft chuckle, and him with a discreet throat-clearing.

“I've already missed quite a few workdays,” you said. “Gotta earn that dough if I want to make next month’s rent.” Nanami didn’t quite catch your bakery pun, but he nodded in agreement.

“Right,” you murmured, subtly veering to the side, putting on a little show as you started to walk away. You admitted it—you were a hopeless romantic. You secretly hoped for him to steal a kiss on your cheek and watch until you safely disappeared around the corner. “I’m off now.”

“Goodnight,” Nanami replied, subtly licking his lips for the sixteenth time. Yes, you were keeping count. 

“Night-night.” 

Nanami strolled down his end of the sidewalk. You followed suit, turning down your street. 

Luck had only sometimes been on your side when it came to men and their romantic gestures. Oh well. At least you experienced a passionate kiss from one of your favorite customers. Asking for more seemed a bit too much—

A hand gently pressed against your back, and as you turned, it gracefully curved around your waist, drawing you in. Nanami caught your gasp and kissed you with an urgency that doubled, holding onto you as if his life depended on it, lifting you off your toes. Three sweet pecks later, he released you, both of your faces flushed.

"Get home safely," he whispered, walking away without a second glance.

That night, you couldn't help but giggle into your mascara-stained pillow.

The morning after, you were a whirlwind of joy and light, twirling through the bakery with trays of freshly baked pastries, replenishing boxes and take-out essentials. You greeted customers with an extra dose of sweetness, and to top it off, you even handed out a tray of delectable chocolate jam cookies. And you wore a yellow bow in your hair. 

The oven beeped as the casse-croûtes finished baking, signaling their readiness for Nanami's arrival in just five minutes. You took special care in preparing his milk coffee, indulging in a quiet chuckle at your undeniable favoritism. Though the neighborhood bakery wasn't bustling with a large customer base, your attention was solely dedicated to him—your only regular as everyone else buzzed in the distant city an hour away.

With his coffee prepared and two casse-croûtes packed, you added a chocolate-mint cookie to the bag. Then, you decided to rearrange the shelves of gift baskets to pass the time. 

Setting up the ladder, you ascended the shaky steps until you were eye to eye with the fifth shelf. Heights were never your forte, which, in hindsight, was another reason why flying to Malaysia was out of the question. The more you thought about being scammed, the more your heart wrenched from your lost trip. You’d again brought out your tip jar and prayed the odds were in your favor. Hell, maybe you’d ask Nanami to join you if you decided to take your relationship to the next level. 

As you secured the bow on the basket, your gaze landed on the clock—6:30 p.m., and Nanami was a no-show. 

Anxiety surged through you in an instant.

Did he leave you hanging? Maybe that kiss was a turnoff, and he chose to disappear rather than be upfront about finding you too overwhelming. Did your breath smell bad? Were you a terrible kisser? Or, worse, did something happen to him?

A torrent of worries flooded your mind, breaking through like a burst dam. Each imagined scenario seemed more nightmarish than the last, causing your head to spin. Recent events, like Toji's betrayal, fueled this self-doubt, made you question your intuition. While Nanami was clearly wealthy, consistently tipping a twenty each day, you found yourself questioning whether he had plans to use you for something else. As if that weren't enough, doubts crept in about your appearance and your optimistic, extroverted personality.

It started to make sense, didn't it? Nanami led a tranquil life, sticking to a routine of work and home, while you were a whirlwind of spontaneity—constantly buzzing with new ideas and discussions, unable to sit still or resist laughter at the silliest jokes. Everything seemed to fascinate you, yet nothing appeared to faze him. How could you have been so naive to entertain the thought—

“Good evening.” 

“Ah!” you yelped at the sudden baritone intruding into your thoughts. Your foot, betrayed by the unexpected intrusion, lost its balance on the step. Your arms flailed in a desperate attempt to find stability as you teetered backward, the impending hazard of a severe concussion and potential spinal cord injury looming.

But just as you were prepared to shake hands with God, Nanami's powerful arms swooped in at the last possible moment. With a secure hold, he cradled you in a bridal style, and you clung to him like a shaking puppy, arms looped around his neck.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his breath slightly labored.

You gingerly peeled one eye open to peek at him. His expression was one of calm disorientation; eyebrows knit together while his lips maintained a straight, tight line.

"Yes," you whispered, soothed by his timely intervention.

Nanami steadied you back onto your feet but maintained a firm grip on your elbows. “Look at me.” As you did, he inspected each eye closely while keeping his hand steady on your left cheek. He checked below your jaw, down to your dusty palms, which he cleaned with his silk handkerchief. He also patted down your tousled hair. "Are you sure you're okay?"

“Mm-hmm.” You could cry from how gentle he was with you. “A-Are you okay?” 

“I am now.” He took a composed breath and effortlessly retrieved his suitcase from the floor, brushing off invisible dust. “I apologize for being late. My . . . car broke down.” 

"What? Oh my god! Do you need me to give you my mechanic's number? I promise he's not as bad as the Google reviews say. He's actually quite a sweet man. And he gives me a friends and family discount because my father was close with him." You beamed, and Nanami squinted his eyes as if the brightness of your smile momentarily blinded him, but he tried his best to reciprocate.

“Do your parents live here?” 

You shook your head. “They passed away a while ago.” 

“I apologize.” 

"Don't be." You quickly switched subjects by fluttering towards the counter to pick up his items. “Tell me how your coffee tastes.” You turned around, adding, “I switched to a new brand of milk—”

Nanami pressed his lips against yours, momentarily freezing you. His seamless transition afterward could have fooled an onlooker into thinking you'd been married for years. "Thank you.” He took a sip and nodded thoughtfully. “It’s great. Everything you make is great.” 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, sudden shyness enveloping you. From the kiss? The compliment? Him? You didn’t know at all. “Do you still need me to give you the mechanic’s number?” 

“It’s all right. I had it fixed. Minor battery issue, that’s all.” 

“Ah, okay. See, that’s why I prefer to walk.” 

Nanami glanced elsewhere, nodding. “Then, would you like to walk with me after you’ve closed?” 

“Oh.” A subtle flicker of surprise crossed your features. Nonchalantly, you brushed a strand of hair behind your ear before smiling warmly. “Of course, yes. I’d love to go on a walk with you. Where are we going? There are lots of cafés in a nearby shopping district. I know all the best places to take you to.” A grave thought struck you just then. “Oh, actually. Hmm.” 

Curious, he tilted his head down, meeting your worried gaze. "What is it?"

"Well," you began, your thoughts taking a cautious turn, "you probably have a set time to be home unless you live nearby. In that case, we could spend the entire evening strolling around. Only if you're interested, of course."

Nanami’s lips twitched. “I live nearby.” 

“Where?” You weren’t ashamed to have been so upfront. It was more of a precautionary measure. 

And he didn't seem bothered, quickly revealing the familiar neighborhood you instantly recognized. It was a fifteen-minute walk from your own place.

"May I step out momentarily to make a call?" Nanami asked, pulling out his phone. It was the latest model you noticed—one that came out last week and mocked your own that was five versions older. “It will be quick.” 

“By all means.” You had to fix your hair and make-up anyway. 

Nanami nodded and exited the shop, leaving you to flee behind the counter. As you crouched down to check yourself in the small mirror tucked away in the lower drawer, you couldn't help but feel a warmth on your face from the unexpected collapse, the sweet, brief kiss, and his impeccable navy blue suit decorated with yellow cufflinks. Maybe a café was too casual for him; a restaurant might have been a more suitable choice. An expensive choice. However, you were adamant about not letting Nanami cover the entire cost.

Upon his return, five minutes later, you both settled at one of the three round tables in your bakery (he even pulled out your chair for you). Sipping on your coffees and enjoying the casse-croûtes and chocolate pastries, the conversation seemed somewhat one-sided. Yet, Nanami's aloof demeanor never made you feel inferior for dominating the dialogue. He listened to every word and vowel with his undivided attention, nodding alongside and adding in short sentences when he could relate to your childhood shenanigans. 

"Wait," he interrupted, causing you to halt in your tracks. The sun cast a warm glow on his face, making his eyes narrow into slits, but God did he look handsome. He extended his hand and brushed a thumb near your lips, discovering a small chocolate smudge. Swiftly, he licked it clean and tidied up the area around your lips with a napkin. "Beautiful."

“What?” 

Nanami was a deer in headlights. He sunk his head, beating himself up from murmuring his thoughts aloud—at least, that’s what you concluded. "You look beautiful," he declared with more assurance, his gaze on your face. "You are beautiful, Y/N."

Oh, my. 

Your heart was going to claw itself out of your chest. You could cook an egg on your face from how heated it had gotten. In fact, you were burning hotter than the sun, which continuously made him squint and blink. “Thank you.” 

He nodded twice, finishing the remnants of his coffee. Rising, he disposed of the cups and wrappers in the garbage bin, then extended a hand to help you stand. "I'll wait outside while you close up."

At a lightning pace, you ensured that everything in the bakery was safely unplugged and shut off. Grabbing your purse, you gave yourself a quick once-over in the mirror, adjusting your face and hair. Stepping outside, you meticulously locked the door and gates.

Without a word, Nanami entwined his fingers with yours, causing you to smile like an idiot at him. He maintained a straight, vigilant gaze, seemingly unresponsive as you wrapped yourself around his arm. A subtle smirk tugged at your lips when you felt his muscles flex.

You walked for hours, café-hopping and trying pastries, baked goods, and sweet drinks. Every time Nanami attempted to cover the expenses with his cash, you scolded him, insisting that since you had suggested the place, you should be the one to pay. It was a rule you had read about online, and all your friends stuck to it religiously. The thought of Nanami spending his hard-earned money on your interests made you feel incredibly guilty.

As a matter of fact, you were feeling guilty about tons of things. He told you he worked at an investment firm, which meant it was a nine-to-five, likely sporting a migraine he kept hidden, and now he was being dragged around the shopping district by you, forced to listen to you because he was a man who didn’t complain, wouldn’t complain, and long, story short, you wanted to die. 

“Kento,” you muttered, removing your hand from his, goosebumps rippling on your skin. 

“Yes, darling?” 

Your chest felt like it was being clenched in a fist. “I'm . . . I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” 

“For making you do all this. For making you pay for everything. For dragging you around when you're probably on the verge of exhaustion." Avoiding his gaze, you fixed your eyes on the concrete beneath you. “I know I can be too much sometimes—well, all the time.” A self-deprecating chuckle escaped your lips. "Exes in my past relationships have made it clear. I get overly excited easily, crave attention like one needs oxygen, trust people too easily to the point of getting scammed, and, well, I don't bring anything particularly special to the table. I'm sorry, Kento. Maybe it's best if we just stay friends?”

Nanami’s soft fingers lifted your chin up. Your words absolutely shattered his face, leaving you to feel worse than before. His lips were parted into a frown, his brows were scrunched up, brown irises flickering like he couldn’t believe you said that. This was the most reaction he had given you in the year that you’ve known him. 

“No,” he said. 

You blinked the tears gathered at your waterline. “No?” 

“No.” Nanami took a calming breath, closing his eyes. His forehead gently pressed against yours. “Please, let me be selfish for this once. For you. I can’t let you go—I won’t let you go."

"Kento—"

"I want to do this, Y/N. I want to pay for everything. I want you to drag me around because I’ll never be too tired for you.” Nanami drew back and cradled your sobbing face in his large hands. “I know I fail to show it, darling, but I love your excitement. I love paying attention to every detail of you because you’ve become my oxygen source. You’re a good, kindhearted woman, and anyone would be lucky to be seen by you. And you don’t have to bring anything to the table because there isn’t one dividing us, keeping us lengths apart.” His lips brushed your forehead, imprinting his words into your mind. "I want us to be more than just friends. I want us to be best friends. Lovers. In this life and the ones that follow."

You could explode. 

Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, seeking support as if the ground beneath you was about to crumble. Yet, you knew he would catch you, just as before. He was so real, embracing you wholly, both of you breathing in each other's scents to confirm a human like this could exist. How grateful you were he stumbled into your bakery that one rainy night, and how grateful he was that you offered him free coffee and a casse-croûte while he was freezing and trembling. His presence brought life to your bakery, gave you something to look forward to when you were at your lowest, and you gave him . . . everything. You were his everything since the first day. 

As the shared silence lingered, Nanami's phone shattered the moment, its noisy ring cutting through the haze. You instinctively stepped back, but he clung to your hand as if afraid you might slip away.

Never, Nanami Kento. You’re stuck with me. 

When he took out his phone, you caught a glimpse of the contact name: Satoru (assistant). 

Before you could process the fact Nanami had an assistant, he swiped right. “Yeah?” 

The voice on the other end resonated with loud cheerfulness in the quiet alleyway. Nanami half-rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Very well. Leave it there. I’ll be there when I want to.” 

The assistant chuckled and sang his goodbye, the cheerful tone abruptly cutting off as Nanami ended the call and slid his phone back into his pocket.

“Do all stockbrokers have assistants?” 

He tilted his head. “I’m not a stockbroker.” 

“Oh? I’m sorry. I assumed because you worked at an investment firm.” 

“Yes, I was a stockbroker.” He nodded, warming your hand in his, then casually added, “But I own a firm now.” 

Your brows hit your hairline. “That’s amazing!” 

“Thank you. We have several locations around the country. Kento Investments. Have you heard of it?” 

Heard of it? You were a client some time ago when you were starting your bakery. All you encountered were glowing reviews about their ethical practices, a refreshing leave from the scheming ways of most investment firms that had previously taken advantage of you. It stood out as the industry leader in your research, and the team was lovely in guiding you through the process, so much so that you even invited them to your grand opening.

"Ah, you have." Nanami grinned, gently tilting your chin upward and closing your gaping mouth. "Therefore, my darling, don't feel guilty about me covering the expenses. I'm quite secure in my position to support both of us for centuries."

All you could manage was a disbelieving chuckle as you rested your forehead against his chest. Taking it as an invitation, he embraced you, crowning you with kisses. 

Lifting your head, you said, "There's something I want to get for you."

"What is it?"

Hand-in-hand, you pulled him back toward the bustling district, the sound of his deep laughter echoing in the air. Your own laughter naturally joined in.

As you strolled past a vendor selling accessories, your attention was drawn to an item you had briefly noticed earlier in your walk. Although you planned to purchase it the following day and surprise him in the afternoon, tonight felt like the perfect moment.

Politely approaching the elderly vendor, you asked, "Could I please try those on?" He handed you a pair of round sunglasses with a green tint to the lenses. Standing on your toes, you carefully placed the glasses on Nanami's nose, adjusting them to sit perfectly on the bridge. The sides of the spectacles featured a stylish steampunk design that complemented his narrow, sharp features. "Handsome.”

"I'll take it.” Nanami reached for his wallet. However, you were one step ahead, swiftly bringing out the spare change you had set aside in your coat pocket. You had already calculated the price, ready to outsmart him in this little game of charity.

“Y/N.” 

“Thank you,” you said to the shop vendor, ignoring Nanami’s stare. 

“Y/N.” 

“Yes, darling?" You looped around his arm and began your stroll down the sidewalk. “Oh, come on. Let me be selfish and treat you once in a while.” You cut off his protests with a kiss. 

He surrendered instantly. 

Over the next four weeks, you didn’t realize how quickly you’d become comfortable with Nanami. Like clockwork, he would arrive at your bakery, patiently occupying a table until your duties with customers or decorating displays finished. Now resembling a vibrant florist shop, the bakery owed its transformation to Nanami's thoughtful gestures—bouquets of flowers in every shade of yellow, orange, and white became an amusing routine. As you arranged them in vases, you would burst into fits of giggles like a maniac. 

You and him were like a Venn diagram, overlapping in unexpected places. He enjoyed non-fiction, classics, and history books; you immersed yourself in the world of romance and mystery novels. TV nights were a compromise between his love for documentaries and your penchant for anything sappy on Netflix, occasionally spicing things up with a true-crime documentary. His fascination with astronomy met your fixation with astrology, and surprisingly, he didn't scoff when you read the lines on his palms. Instead, he appreciated it just as much as you cherished his nightly photos of the moon and his ability to name the stars above.

At least, you were both Team Cats.

Nanami introduced you to his friends, including his quirky assistant Gojo, who had a habit of shamelessly flirting with you, seemingly just to get under Nanami's skin. However, your boyfriend was secure enough not to let it bother him. Yet, a trace of possessiveness would emerge during sex—when the two of you were entwined in bed, bodies bared and bathed in the aftermath of shared sweat.

Exiting the restaurant after a delightful dinner date, Nanami turned to you and suggested, "I'd like to invite you to my home tonight."

Finally, you thought, resisting the urge to dip your toes into the topic of visiting his home, especially considering he had been a frequent guest at yours.

The fact that he lived nearby had always puzzled you; he mentioned it casually yet never extended an invitation for a simple coffee or a chat on his welcome mat. Weekends saw him working from your living room, staying overnight, but on weekdays, he'd only spend a brief hour or two with you before heading home, a practice that seemed counterintuitive given his closeness. Despite the confusion, you hesitated to jeopardize your relationship by fishing too deeply.

So far, Nanami hadn't given you any reason to doubt him.

"Are you sure?" you asked cautiously.

"Absolutely, darling.” Nanami took your hand and planted a small kiss on the back of it. "I apologize for the delay. I've been having it . . ." He casually flicked up his sunglasses that had slipped. ". . . renovated."

“Oh, I see. Well, in that case, I’d love to!” 

Nanami nodded and leaned down to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being so patient. I know it was eating you alive. You're not exactly the master of hiding your emotions.” He gave you a small smile and kissed your cheek again. 

You responded with a smile that crinkled your nose. "Just a bit anxious, that's all."

"Understandable.” He guided you toward his neighbourhood, exchanging a warm smile as you nestled against his arm. Observing the goosebumps on your skin and the faint shivers, he realized you had forgotten your cardigan. Without hesitation, he removed his blazer and draped it around your shoulders, helping you slip your arms through the sleeves and buttoning it up.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the pleasant scent from the collars. "You always smell so good."

Nanami bent down, kissing the side of your neck right above your racing pulse. "As do you," he murmured against your skin. "Always."

“Gosh, you're so flirty,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his midsection and burying your face in his chest.

“Come on now.” 

You walked for another ten minutes, taking a five-minute pit stop to pet a stray cat before stopping in front of a towering residence building. It was one of those extravagant ones boasting a fountain in the lobby and a vigilant security guard who greeted Nanami with a two-finger salute.

Hand on your back, Nanami guided you toward the elevator with mirrors on all sides.

He exuded an air of sophistication in his neatly rolled-up black dress shirt, complemented by beige pants. His pale, blond hair was slicked back, a Rolex clasped his wrist, and veins corded his well-defined forearms. The sunglasses you had given him rested atop his head. 

As Nanami caught your eyes on the reflective surfaces, a sudden blush warmed your cheeks. “What is it?” 

“Nothing,” you whispered, fingers idly playing with the golden butterfly bracelet he had given you on the night he asked you to be his girlfriend. “I was just . . . God, you’re so beautiful. Sometimes, I think I’m dreaming of you. And I don’t want to wake up from it.” 

Nanami released his grip on your hand, wrapping his arm around your waist. He tilted your chin upward and planted a lecherous kiss on your lips. As you stumbled backward, your back met the cool surface of a mirror, and you clung to his biceps. He continued kissing your jaw and nibbling at your neck.

“Ken—Wait, there’s a camera!” 

“I own the building.” 

Without allowing you to react, he kissed you fervently, his hands framing your face and his knee pressing between your legs. Your hips ground against the muscled surface, creating a heated friction that drew a moan from him.

The elevator dinged, signaling its arrival, but Nanami was undeterred. He refused to break the kiss. Lifting you effortlessly, he cradled you with a single forearm beneath your backside and your arms encircling his neck. Laughter echoed as you entered directly into the main corridor of his penthouse.

“Your front door is an elevator?” You marveled with an open jaw. 

“Yes, it seems so.”

Oh, how you loved his monotonous replies. 

Nanami gently placed you onto the expansive white surface of his couch, smoothly moving over your body to continue. 

“I knew you were a clean freak,” you said between his kisses, “but your penthouse looks like it was bought this morning.” 

“Two weeks ago.” He kisses down your neck, sideways toward your left shoulder. “That’s why I waited to invite you. Gojo was having the place decorated. I've installed a library for you, too. We can go book-shopping this weekend.” 

"Wait, what?" You pushed him back by his chest, incredulous. "Hold on, hold on, hold on. You mean to tell me you moved in just two weeks ago?"

"Yes," he answered, tilting his head slightly perplexedly. "When you asked about my residence, I panicked and couldn't come up with a proper answer, fearing you might decline my invitation for a walk. So, I bought this building from the previous owner on the spot. There are also commercial benefits. Quite a strategic move, if you ask me." With that, Nanami resumed his attention, focusing on kissing your collarbones and skillfully lowering your dress, exposing your chest to him.

But you were still stuck on the subject like a pesky fruit fly. “But you don’t live here?” 

“I don’t.” His mouth brushed over the mound of your left breast. “I live in Shibuya.” 

“Shibuya? Kento, that’s an hour and a half away!"

"Hmm." He glanced up, mouth sucking at your nipple.

"You've been faithfully coming to my city every single day, all the way from Shibuya, for a whole year? You've been burning all that gas just to be with me?"

He broke away to say, "Gojo drives me occasionally," and switched to your right breast.

"Nanami Kento, are you out of your mind?"

Finally, he released you and sighed. "I fail to see the issue here." He appeared so innocent, with his moist lips, tousled hair, and a crumpled dress shirt. 

You hurriedly sat up, readjusting your dress, which seemed to displease him. "I'm at a loss for words." Your gaze caught the weariness etched on his face, the bags under his eyes, the slow, heavy blinks signaling his desperate need for sleep. "You haven't actually been living here, have you?"

Upon hearing that, Nanami let out a weary sigh. "I do it when I'm too drained to make the drive back on weekdays."

As the details of his schedule fell into place, you flinched inwardly. He would rise at the crack of dawn, dedicate endless hours to handling clients at the office, and then endure a lengthy drive to your city, only to spend his evenings with you before leaving around midnight to return to Shibuya. The only time he would stay overnight at your place was on Saturdays, and he would depart early on Sundays for work. And all this time, you had believed he had an office in your city.

Oh, God. 

You loved him. 

You loved him so much.

Tears welled up in your eyes at the realization of just how much he loved you. The man had gone so far as to purchase an entire building in your city just to be closer to you. He showered you with affection at every opportunity, devoted his alone time to you with undivided attention and mind-blowing orgasms, and his bank transactions were probably dedicated to you. 

“I don’t deserve your kindness,” you whispered. 

“Neither did I the night when we met.” Nanami’s words always had a comforting effect on you. He gently pulled you onto his lap, and you curled up like a fetus, planting a kiss on his cheekbone. “I’ve loved you for a very long time, Y/N. I love . . . God, I love you so much. I didn't realize I was capable of feeling this much love for another human until I met you. It was all locked up inside me, and you held the key all along, darling." Leaning forward, he smoothly swept his blazer and delved into the pocket, revealing a small yellow box. With trembling hands, you accepted it and opened it to find a petite, golden key inside. “Our front door is an elevator.” 

Your breath hitched. “What?” 

“Move in with me.” 

“Kento—”

“I know. I know it's quite early to discuss this, and I want to give you the space and time to consider it. As you mentioned, your lease ends next month, and I'll officially be transitioning to remote work with a few business trips every other week. It would mean a lot to me if you decided to join me on those trips." He gently placed the key in your hand, kissing your fist. "I'm scheduled to travel to Malaysia next month."

Overpowered with emotion, you choked out a sob and immediately lunged at him with a hug, causing both of you to stumble backward as he wrapped his arms around your waist. He loved you. He wanted you to move in with him. He wanted to travel with you, starting with Malaysia. Suddenly, the tips he left in your jar took on a deeper significance, backing the idea that you weren't meant to journey alone, why you weren’t meant to go with that swindling bastard. As Nanami's gestures of kindness and service became increasingly evident, your tears welled up, choking him in a tight embrace that eventually had him laughing.

Last November, Nanami Kento had stepped into your small bakery, raindrops clinging to him, unknowingly marking his permanent presence in your life.

[punkshort]

Home

Pairing: (Hallmark) Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You finally move in with Joel and Sarah.

Warnings: language, fluff (the cheesy hallmark kind), established relationship, reader has a previously explained nickname, smut (18+ MDNI), oral (f!receiving), unprotected piv sex

WC: 4.8K

Series Masterlist

Dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics

Joel was nervous. He never really got nervous, but that particular day, he was nervous.

Sure, it was a big step in your relationship. Or maybe it was because months ago when he asked your father's permission to marry you, he promised he would wait until you moved in together.

And now, that day had arrived.

Where did the time go? He swore it just flew right on by, time that was filled with memories of dinners, parties, dates and holidays together. He hadn't planned what he would say and he felt woefully unprepared. He hadn't even talked to Sarah about it yet.

Just because today is the day you're moving in doesn't mean today is the day I need to ask, he thought to himself. Still, it was a big step. A big, symbolic gesture on both your ends. One that screamed, I'm in this for the long haul.

"Mornin', babygirl," Joel said sleepily as he entered the kitchen, Sarah already sitting at the table in front of an empty bowl and scrolling quietly on her phone.

"Hey," she responded distractedly. He poured himself a cup of coffee and looked around the room. It would be the last morning in his kitchen that didn't include you, and the thought made warmth bloom in his chest and excitement flicker under his skin.

"Big day," he said, but Sarah only nodded. "Y'know, been meanin' to talk to you 'bout somethin'."

She pulled her gaze up from her phone and cocked her head to the side. "Yeah?"

He nodded and took a deep breath before sitting across the table from her. He told her it was about you and she sat back in her chair.

"Bucky?"

He nodded, the silly nickname coming from his daughter's lips that only previously came from your immediate family making him smile.

"You know I'm cool with her moving in, we talked about it months ago. I think it's great. She's amazing and we have so much fun-"

"It's not that," he said, cutting her off before he lost his nerve. "One day - and I ain't sayin' today - but one day, I wanna ask her to marry me."

Sarah just continued to stare blankly at him, so he continued.

"I love her so much, babygirl. She means so much to me, 'n so does her family. I can't imagine my life, our life, without her."

"Yeah, duh," she replied, giving him an incredulous look. "Obviously if she's moving in I figured that would be the next step."

He frowned. "You did?"

"Dad," she whined, rolling her eyes. "I'm seventeen now. Soon, I'll be in college. I want you to be happy. I don't want to worry about you being sad and alone when I'm gone."

"Gee, thanks," he scoffed over his mug, and she giggled.

"What I'm saying is, I think it's great. Go for it. She'll totally say yes."

He scratched the back of his neck nervously. "Yeah?"

Sarah gave him a deadpan look. "Yes, Dad. She's moving in with you. She's not expecting friendship bracelets."

He smirked and looked down at his coffee. One thing was checked off the list, now he had to think about when and how he would ask you.

It was a long day.

You hadn't even lived in Texas for a full year yet but you managed to accumulate a lot more shit than you thought. Fortunately, between Joel, Tommy, your dad and Josh, your brother in law, all the furniture was quickly unloaded. The time consuming part was working out the angles in hallways and stairs. Since Joel and Sarah already had more than enough furniture, the two of you decided to put your old couch and television in the basement, an idea which Sarah excitedly jumped on board with.

You could hear the men grunting and talking through different ideas on how to get your couch into the basement all the way from Joel's - your - bedroom upstairs with Sarah.

"I am obsessed with this purse," Sarah sighed, tossing a red leather Michael Kors tote over her shoulder. Prior to living in Texas, you lived in New York City and had created quite the collection of designer clothes and accessories thanks mostly to your ex-fiancé. Since moving, you found very little use for most of it and your style evolved to one that was much more relaxed and comfortable. More you.

"Keep it," you told her as you opened up a box of your bathroom things. She gawked at you while you began to drag the box towards the bathroom, already smiling to yourself as you thought about Joel seeing all the girly face masks and perfumes cluttering his once rather masculine space.

"Are you serious?"

You glanced up at her and shrugged. "Sure. I haven't used it in a year and I have plenty more. It's all yours."

"Oh, my god," she murmured, holding the bag close to her chest. "Thank you!"

You grinned and pulled out bottles of shampoo and conditioner. "Don't mention it."

There was a loud thud that came from the basement and you both froze, waiting to hear panicked calls for help, but after a moment laughter erupted amongst the men and you both exchanged looks of relief.

"I bet Dad that Uncle Tommy would be the one to hurt himself," she told you, crouching to help unpack more of your toiletries.

You laughed and shook your head. "You're probably right."

Glancing at the time, you stood up and weaved your way through the boxes littering the floor to grab your wallet laying on the bed.

"Would you mind calling in a couple pizzas for delivery?" you asked Sarah, handing her your credit card. She nodded and patted down her pants.

"Shoot. I think I left my phone in my room," she said as she headed towards the door. "Ronny's Pizza, right?"

"Yeah, that's good," you called after her before stubbing your toe on a half empty cardboard box. "Shit," you muttered angrily, then squat down to scoop up what was left in the box and get it out of your way.

Wrestling with an armful of socks and bras, you carefully made your way to the dresser and yanked open a drawer. You mistakenly had opened Joel's underwear drawer instead of the one he had emptied for you, but right as you were about to close it, something caught your eye. Was that...? Slowly, you reached forward and nudged a pair of boxers out of the way so you could get a better look.

Your eyes went wide and your heart jumped into your throat when you saw the small, black velvet box nestled between his things. The fingers holding up the pair of underwear began to shake and you nervously swallowed the lump in your throat.

Maybe it was a class ring.

Maybe it was a piece of his mom's jewelry he saved for Sarah.

Or maybe it was a fucking engagement ring.

You heard creaking on the stairs and you quickly dropped the boxers back over the box and slammed the drawer shut. By the time Joel entered the room, you had successfully found your drawer and were halfway done putting your clothes away.

"Hey, darlin'," he murmured, sidling up behind you. He buried his nose in your shoulder and slowly circled his arms around your waist.

"Hey, yourself," you replied, hoping your voice sounded normal and he couldn't feel your heart slamming in your chest. Already got the ring he had said to you drunkenly the night before your sister gave birth. "How are things going down there?" you asked, trying to refocus and get your mind off what you just saw.

Joel breathed in deep and began to sway you both back and forth. "Good. Everythin's all set. Got a nice man cave set up now."

You giggled and closed your drawer before turning around in his arms. "Man cave, huh?"

"That's right," he said softly with a grin. "Gonna be great in 'nother month when football season starts."

"I don't know, I think Sarah was already making plans to have her girlfriends over down there. Might cramp your man cave style," you told him, arms draping loosely around his neck.

"'S'alright, I just give her a hundred bucks and let her borrow the car and then it's all mine," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against your throat. "Be nice to have some privacy down there, too," he added, tilting his head in the other direction so he could give the other side of your neck the same attention.

"Yeah? Privacy for what?" you teased, chin lifting up to give him better access. You felt him chuckle against your skin.

"For anythin' we want," he replied, tearing his mouth away from your shoulder so he could brush his lips gently over yours.

"Mmm, like board games?" you asked, giggling when his lips froze and his face pulled away, giving you a look of disbelief.

"Is that what we're callin' it?"

You nodded and stretched onto your tiptoes so you could kiss him again.

"Okay, the pizza'll be here - oh. Gross," Sarah said when she appeared in the doorway. You pulled away and grinned while Joel looked over his shoulder with a frown.

"Gross?" he repeated, voice laced with disgust. "Seein' me happy is gross?"

Sarah rolled her eyes as she navigated the minefield of boxes in the room to hand you back your credit card. "Is this what it's gonna be like now? You guys sucking face in every room?"

"Hate to tell you, kiddo, but it's always been that way," you told her as you dropped your arms from around Joel's neck to take your card back.

"Pizza?" he questioned excitedly as if he just processed what Sarah said, and you nodded.

"Figured you guys would be hungry."

Joel groaned in delight and wrapped his arms around you once again, making you laugh.

"Alright, gimme a second to leave at least," Sarah said, turning towards the door as quickly as possible, but not before you caught the smile on her face.

"Hey, can I give you a hand?" Tommy asked as he entered your kitchen. You could hear Josh, your father, Sarah and Joel laughing in the living room with the television on in the background.

"Oh, Tommy, that's so sweet but I got it. You've done so much already today, thank you for your help," you said with a smile as you continued to clean up the pizza. Tommy leaned against the counter and watched you move around his brother's kitchen like you had been there your whole life, and he couldn't help but smile.

"You look right at home already," he told you, making your cheeks warm. You pulled out some foil and shrugged.

"I've stayed over a couple times, what can I say?"

He chuckled and continued to watch you work quietly for a moment.

"Say, what'dya think 'bout you and Joel goin' on a double date with me and Maria?"

"Oh, I would love that!" you exclaimed, meeting his gaze briefly as you moved towards the fridge. "Must be getting serious if you're ready to introduce her to family, huh?"

"Yeah, I think so," Tommy said, shyly looking down at the tile floor. "She's so pretty. Smart, too. And funny. We have such a great time together. I'll tell you, I ain't ever remember feelin' this way 'bout a girl before."

Your jaw hung open in shock after you turned away from the closed fridge. "Tommy! This is... amazing!"

He scratched the back of his neck and grinned. "Yeah, it is," he agreed warmly.

"He botherin' you, baby?" Joel asked as he strolled into the kitchen with a beer in his hand. He shot you a wink right after Tommy gave him the finger.

"I was just telling Tommy we should go on a double date with him and Maria," you said, leaning into the hug he gave you. Tommy gave you a thumbs up behind Joel's back and you smiled over his shoulder, knowing intuitively that his brother would tease him mercilessly if he knew Tommy was the one with the idea instead of you.

"Oh, yeah?" Joel asked, pulling back to look at Tommy. He nodded.

"Yeah, sounds like fun. Maybe grab some drinks down at Mike's. Play some pool."

"Alright. Set it up, can't wait to meet her," Joel told him before squeezing past you to get another beer from the refrigerator.

The men spent another hour or so relaxing in the living room while you and Sarah did the best you could to clear up the remaining boxes in your bedroom. You did rather well, too. By the time everyone was ready to say good night, you only had two boxes left, both of which you stacked and shoved into a corner to deal with the next day.

You were looking forward to collapsing into bed after a long, eventful day when Sarah asked if she could go to the movies with a few of her friends.

"Please, Dad? School starts up in a couple weeks," she begged, and Joel didn't have the heart to tell her she didn't need to bother to beg. He handed her some money from his wallet and she rushed up to her bedroom to get ready, announcing her friend Katy would pick her up in twenty minutes.

"Strange how Katy knew to pick her up before I said it was alright," Joel told you with a fake look of confusion. You laughed and plopped next to him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulder while he flipped through the channels on the television.

You wrapped your hand around his bicep and snuggled in closer as he wavered back and forth between two different action movies. When you really thought about it, it was funny. Your life was so different just a year ago. You were engaged to someone else, living in New York City, wearing expensive clothes and dining at restaurants you didn't really care for but your fiancé did, so you pretended to like them, too. Now you were living a completely different life. One of comfort and love and joy and you had never felt happier.

As if he could read your mind, Joel lifted his arm and tugged you closer by the shoulders, then planted a kiss on the top of your head, further emphasizing how perfect your life seemed now.

"I'm coming downstairs now! Stop making out!" Sarah warned as she stomped down the steps. You stifled your laughter and Joel shot her a scowl.

"We're just watchin' TV."

"And I'm just covering my bases," she said with a grin, holding her hands up in surrender. A faint beep came from the road and she grabbed the purse you had given her earlier that day and said, "don't wait up!" over her shoulder before the door clicked shut.

"Don't wait up?" Joel repeated with a snort. "She's seventeen goin' on thirty."

You giggled and gazed up at him from your place against his side. "You wanna play some board games?"

He looked confused for a moment before the realization dawned on him.

"Hell, yes."

The basement looked nicer than you expected. It wasn't completely finished but there was an area Joel had built a wall around and painted years ago. He had installed a drop ceiling and some laminate flooring but he never got around to actually doing much else with it until you moved in and had extra furniture. An area rug from your old apartment was in the center of the room, your old couch resting on top and your television was placed on your entertainment center across from the sofa. You had some floor lamps and end tables you could arrange in the space later on but for now, it was nice.

But all that didn't really matter that particular day. Not when your shorts dangled around one ankle, which was slung over the back of the couch, your legs spread wide as Joel kneeled on the area rug, his fingers gripping your hips as his tongue feverishly lapped at your pussy.

"Fuck, Joel... I'm close," you whined, hand clawing at his hair, your hips grinding shamelessly against his face. He just groaned, eyes fluttering closed as he drank you in, your scent engulfing him, absolutely loving the way you fell apart under his tongue.

"Joel," you gasped, mouth hung open as your gaze fixed on the top of his head. "Joel, d-do t-that thing-" you moaned loudly, cutting yourself off when he repeatedly grazed his teeth over your clit while working two fingers into your cunt, curling them so they pressed against that one spot he knew drove you crazy each time he dragged them in and out.

A moment later, your body went rigid and tears sprung to your eyes as you came, ragged groans melting into quiet little whimpers until he finally pulled away from the center of your thighs. His eyes were dark and wild as he panted for air, watching you with a cocky smirk as you struggled to come to your senses.

"Gonna let me fuck you now, baby?" he murmured, his pants already pushed halfway down his legs. You nodded in a daze, thighs trembling still when he stepped out of his jeans and kneeled onto the couch. He hovered over you, pressing his thick length against your pussy while he bent forward to bite and suck at your throat.

You gasped sharply and grabbed his shoulders when he first entered you. The initial stretch always took your breath away, regardless if he made you come first or not. You came to crave that feeling, those first few seconds of intrusion that made your mind go blank and your heart stutter before your body made room for him and relaxed. And because you knew he loved to hear it, your mouth found his ear and you whimpered, "so big," and you smiled when you heard his responding growl.

A few days before you moved in with Joel, you laid awake at night in your apartment, thinking back to your relationship before him. When you moved in with Will, it seemed like something shifted almost immediately, and not in a good way. The spark fizzled out as you adjusted to living with one another, putting up with each other's quirks and bad habits. Logically, you knew that spark was dying before you moved in together but at the time, you didn't want to admit it. But anxiety still crept up and you wondered if the same thing would happen with Joel.

What a stupid thing to worry about.

What you had with Joel was so different, it was hard to describe. But it was a feeling, something deep inside that couldn't be denied. This was special. This was unlike anything you ever experienced before and it was foolish to try to compare it to anything else.

As if you needed further proof, Joel sensed your mind had drifted elsewhere and he nipped at your lower lip to draw your attention back to him.

"What's wrong?" he whispered when you met his gaze. His hips had slowed down, worried you were uncomfortable and didn't want to say it. You slowly smiled and draped your arms around his neck, looking up at him with such love and adoration that he couldn't stop himself from smiling in return.

"Nothing's wrong. Everything's perfect," you told him. You tugged him down so you could give him a kiss, then mumbled, "you're perfect," against his mouth.

Joel flushed and shook his head gently, resuming his steady pace. Sometimes he had a hard time believing you were real. He spent a good chunk of his adult life thinking he would never find true love and after a few years of loneliness, he grew to accept that. He threw himself into his work and focused on raising Sarah but when he met you, it was like everything changed. He couldn't stop thinking about you to the point where he would have been content with just getting to know you better, but the moment he first felt your lips against his, he knew he didn't stand a chance. But when he first made love to you, it was all over. He knew within seconds he could never let you go, and he never did.

"You're the one who's perfect. God, so fuckin' tight," he groaned, flexing his hips with a little more force. You rewarded him with a sweet little moan and tipped your head back into the couch. "That feel good, baby?" he breathed, watching with pride as you writhed underneath him.

"Yeah," you whispered before sinking your teeth into your lower lip, skin already red and sensitive from where his own teeth had laid claim. "Again. Harder, Joel," you pleaded, and his eyelids fluttered as he tried to slow down his own orgasm that was already growing all too quickly.

He gave you what you wanted, hips snapping into yours roughly. Your whole body rocked beneath him, breasts bouncing free under your thin T-shirt, jaw slack and back arched so beautifully he had to look away before he came too soon.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whined, face pinching as he forced another orgasm to the surface with each powerful thrust.

"You like that?" he murmured, his dark eyes raking over your body greedily. "Tell me, baby. C'mon, wanna hear it."

"Yes," you whimpered, eyes still screwed shut, "feel so fucking good, Joel, fuck... so... so deep, I want more." You took in a deep breath, your release so close you could taste it. "More... don't stop, please... I-I need..." you were rambling now, unable to form a full sentence, barely aware you were saying anything at all and fuck, did he love being the one to make you do that. Make you lose control and give in, putting all your faith and trust in him to give you what you want. To make you feel good.

"I know what you need," he said through gritted teeth, then grabbed ahold of your hip and ground himself roughly against your cunt. Your eyes flew open and he smiled when you cried out, clenching around him after only two or three passes over your clit.

You were whispering his name mixed with something else incoherent as you came down and he couldn't hold himself back any longer. He slammed into you over and over, eyes fixed on the way your pussy strained around his girth, his cock all shiny and slick with your arousal and he came with a loud groan, thrusting into you deep and slow until he was spent.

His arms began to tremble so he slowly lowered himself down to rest the side of his head against your chest and instantly, your hands came up to card through his hair. He sighed and closed his eyes, soaking in your gentle touch as his heart began to slow.

"Do you think it will always be like this?" you asked softly, fingers still threading through his curls.

"Yeah, I do," Joel replied, eyes still shut as he nuzzled into your chest.

"Good. Me, too."

Maria was fun.

You knew immediately you would get along. Her sense of humor and her carefree attitude completely contradicted her profession as a newly appointed Assistant District Attorney, and you absolutely loved how full of surprises she was, especially how good she was at pool.

"Y'know, we just let you girls win," Joel teased when he put his pool cue down.

"Oh, yeah? Is that why I heard you and Tommy talking strategy on my way back from the bathroom?" you shot back. He grinned and tugged you into his chest, kissing the crown of your head before releasing you.

"C'mon, Tommy. Losers buy the next round," he said, giving his younger brother a playful shove. Tommy squeezed Maria's hand and gave her a warm smile before following Joel to the bar, leaving just you two to find an empty table. Maria spotted one right when a group of four were standing up to leave and she grabbed your arm, practically dragging you across the crowded floor to snag it before someone else did.

"Good eye!" you told her when you slid into the booth, the green, plastic cushion underneath you essentially useless after years of being flattened and never replaced. The table was sticky from spilled beer and droplets of hot sauce, so you each got to work yanking handfuls of napkins out of the dispenser at the end of the table and squirting hand sanitizer over the tabletop to clean the area as best you could.

"I don't think Tommy told me how long you two've been together," Maria said, her eyes lifting to search the bar for your dates.

"Uh, eight months or so," you told her, "we met right before Christmas."

She raised her eyebrows and smiled. "I would have guessed much longer. It feels like you know each other so well."

You could feel your cheeks warm from the compliment. It was clear to you what you had with Joel was special but it was always nice to hear others could see it, too.

"What about you and Tommy? He's been keeping you a secret but I want to guess... two months?"

"Three, actually," she corrected you. "We both agreed to take things slow. I had just gotten this job and I knew I would be putting in long hours, I wasn't really sure if I had the time to devote to a relationship but he stuck it out. I really thought he was going to bail when I kept having to call it early so many nights and cancel dates last minute but he's a trooper."

You leaned across the table and wiggled your eyebrows at her. "That's 'cause he really likes you."

She giggled and waved you off but you could see the delight in her eyes.

"I'm serious! I've only known him for as long as I've known Joel but from what I was told, Tommy didn't bring girls around often. Especially lately. You must be special," you teased, making her smile widen.

Unbeknownst to you, across the bar, Tommy and Joel were having a similar conversation.

Now that Tommy had a few beers in him, he was more open to telling his brother about Maria and how happy he was with her.

"I'm tellin' you, Joel, I think she's the one," he was saying, slamming down an empty shot glass next to Joel's on the messy bar top.

"I like her, she keeps you in line," Joel quipped, taking a sip from his beer to chase the shot of whiskey. "Girls are gettin' along real good, too."

Tommy nodded and looked across the bar. "And how's things goin' with you two? She wanna move out yet?"

Joel laughed and shook his head. "Nah, it's only been two weeks. It'll probably take at least a month 'fore she realizes she made a mistake," he joked.

Tommy chuckled but caught the fond look in Joel's eye when he thought about you.

"So, you think this is it for us?" he asked, and Joel glanced up from his beer. "We finally found the ones?"

The corner of his mouth pulled up into a smirk and he nodded.

"Hope so." Then maybe he was feeling a little braver, or maybe it was the alcohol, but he added, "got the ring already, be a little tough tryin' to take it back."

Tommy's eyes bugged out of his head. "You - what?"

Joel sucked in a deep breath and nodded. "Yep. Had it for a while now. Asked Paul 'n everythin'."

Tommy's mouth opened and closed like a fish, completely stunned.

"And Sarah?"

He nodded and took a nervous sip from his bottle. "Talked to her, too. She's thrilled."

Tommy broke out into a huge grin and tugged Joel into a quick hug before pulling away and giving him a playful shoulder shove. "So when are you gonna do it?"

Joel sighed and looked around. "I don't know. When it feels right, I suppose."

"Shit," Tommy replied, rubbing his chin. "Gonna be a hell of a year."

Joel nodded and looked down at your drinks sitting on the bar. "We oughta go find the girls."

"Yeah," Tommy agreed, shaking his head like he was snapping out of a trance. He reached for Maria's drink while Joel grabbed yours but before they began to weave their way through the bar, Tommy stopped him.

"Congrats, brother. I'm happy for you."

"She didn't say yes yet," Joel reminded him with a raised eyebrow, but Tommy just shrugged.

"She will."

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[hanniebaeee]

The Wedding Night

Hyunjin x fem!reader

Warnings: psychotic family rituals, use of weapons (guns, knives, crossbows), threats, some blood, chasing MDNI

Genre: established relationship, thriller/romance

Summary: You and Hyunjin get married, and on your wedding night, you play a deadly game with his eccentric family - his seven brothers.

a/n: Written after watching 'Ready or not'. The plot is not exactly the same, but very similar. I absolutely love horror thriller movies and this one has such a strange gothic vibe to it that I love hehe! Please feel free to skip if any of the warnings bother you. But also remember this is just a story! Thank you!

The storm outside the sprawling mansion mirrored the turbulence Hyunjin felt in his chest as he watched you adjust your dress. Hyunjin’s arms snaked around your waist from behind, his touch gentle. He pressed a lingering kiss to your neck, his lips warm against your skin.

“What's wrong Jinnie? You look nervous.” You said, you hand cupping his cheek as his eyes met yours in the mirror.

“No, I'm good…just don't feel like sharing you tonight,” he murmured, his voice low, sultry.

“It's tradition, right?” you asked, turning to face him.

His long, dark hair fell in soft waves, framing his face like he was a gothic prince from a fairy tale.

“Right. Tradition.” His gaze flicked to the clock above the fireplace. Just about half an hour to midnight.

“Hyunjin… what’s going on?” You were worried now. Hyunjin has been on the edge the whole day, and you'd thought that he was just nervous - it was his wedding after all.

But now? It was starting to get to you.

His hesitation sent a ripple of unease through you. His family had been off from the moment you met them. Apart from his mother and twin sister, Yeji, they were all men. His brothers - Jisung, Felix and Jeongin. His cousins - Chan, Minho, Chanbin and Seungmin.

They moved like shadows through the halls, their smiles never reaching their eyes. But none of that mattered because you loved Hyunjin. You married him knowing that he came with this… oddness.

And now, on the night of your wedding, they’d insisted on a "family tradition" - a game to welcome you into the fold.

Hyunjin’s hand cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek.

“I need you to trust me,” he said, his tone urgent. “No matter what happens tonight, I will keep you safe.”

Before you could ask what that meant, there was a knock on the door.

“It’s time.” Minho's voice came from the other side of the door, and Hyunjin’s grip on you tightened.

---

The family was gathered in the dimly lit dining room around a massive oak table, all still dressed in their elaborate, somewhat gothic outfits from the wedding. Hyunjin’s father sat at the head.

“Tradition binds us,” he said, his voice echoing through the room. “Tonight, the newest member of our family will prove their worth.”

Jeongin, Hyunjin's youngest sibling, placed an antique box before you, its surface etched with intricate symbols. Hyunjin's mother opened the box and inside, you found cards.

Are you playing cards?

Hyunjin’s hand found yours beneath the table, squeezing tightly. His expression was unreadable, but the tremor in his fingers betrayed his fear.

“Draw a card,” his father commanded.

You hesitated, your heart pounding as you glanced at Hyunjin before reaching into the box, and pulling out a card.

It bore a single word: Run.

Gasps rippled through the room. Yeji gave you a look that was borderline smothered with pity, and she looked away quickly. So did his mother.

“Oh, this will be fun,” Minho purred, his grin sharp.

Hyunjin shot to his feet, as he said “No. We’re not doing this.”

“Sit down, son,” his father growled, his tone laced with authority.

“She’s my wife!” Hyunjin said, his voice way too loud to be friendly, and you glanced around the room to find all eyes on you.

“And now, she’s the game,” Chan said, his smile chilling.

You didn’t have time to process what was happening before Hyunjin pulled you to your feet.

“Run,” he whispered urgently.

“What?”

“Run!”

He had pushed you out the door so hard that you nearly collided with the wall on the other side. But you did as you were told. You ran.

The manor was a labyrinth of dark twisted corridors and hallways as you fled. You could hear them behind you - their laughter, and the clang of metal.

What the hell was happening? What was this game?

You almost screamed as Hyunjin burst out through a door in front of you, his breathing ragged.

“We need to get you out-” he said, pulling you into a dimly lit hallway, but you yanked your hand back, making him stop on his tracks.

“Hyunjin, what the hell is going on?” you demanded, your voice shaking.

“Baby there's no time-”

“HYUNJIN, STOP FUCKING WITH ME!”

“My family… this tradition, it's been in my family for ages. Only the strongest gets to be part of it. To carry the bloodline forward. It's sick, I know. Baby you picked the wrong card. You picked the worst, oh God. ”

“Hyunjin, what the actual fuck are you saying right now?! What is this game?!”

“It's not a game…it's a hunt. And if you're caught before sunrise-”

You stared at him like he was actually insane. Like you couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth.

“Babe, you -”

“I know!” He cupped your face, his dark eyes shining with desperation. “But I swear, I’ll get you out of this. I’ll die before I let them hurt you.”

Your heart pounded as you ran, your shoes kicked off long ago because it made way too much noise on the wooden floor. The distant, mocking laughter of Hyunjin’s brothers echoed through the halls, growing closer.

“I can hear you, sweetheart!” Jisung’s sing-song voice reverberated somewhere behind you, unsettlingly cheerful.

Hyunjin’s grip on your hand was iron-tight as he led you down a narrow, hidden staircase.

“They’ll split up soon,” he hissed. “It’s how they always do this - divide and conquer.”

“You've been part of this?” you asked, horrified.

Hyunjin hesitated, but said, “It doesn’t matter. What matters is keeping you alive.”

---

The first time you truly noticed Seungmin was at the wedding dinner. Quiet and poised, he seemed like the least likely person in the room to partake in the family’s macabre rituals. He had sipped his wine with a detached air, his sharp eyes watching everyone with an almost clinical curiosity.

So when you found yourself face-to-face with him during the game, it was… unsettling. Especially so, with Hyunjin not at your side - he'd taken a different route to take Chan off your path.

You were sprinting through the east wing’s library when his voice floated out from the shadows.

“You know,” he began, his tone casual like this was a normal conversation, “I root for you.”

Your heart stopped. He was there, perched casually in one of the high-backed chairs, legs crossed, holding a long rifle. And looking totally chill.

“Seungmin,” you breathed, backing away slowly. “I don’t want to hurt you-”

“Oh, I’m sure you don’t,” he interrupted, standing smoothly and taking a few steps towards you. “But I have a job to do, Y/N. Family obligations and all that.”

He raised the rifle, aiming it directly at you.

“Let’s make this quick. No hard feelings?”

You ducked just as the shot rang out, the bullet whizzing past your head and shattering the glass of an antique vase. You scrambled for cover behind a massive oak desk, your heart pounding so loudly it literally masked any other sounds in the room.

“Do you know why I like this game?” Seungmin’s voice floated closer as his footsteps echoed against the hardwood floor. “Strategy. Planning. Timing.”

You peeked around the desk just in time to see him reloading his rifle like a pro. Desperate, you scanned the room. Your eyes landed on a shelf of heavy leather-bound books.

“Seungmin!” you said, trying not to let the fear in you bleed into your voice as you carefully moved behind the shelf. “Can't we talk about this?”

“What's there to talk about?” he replied, circling toward you. “It's just survival of the fittest.”

Just as he turned the corner, you book one of the heavy books and threw it right at him. It hit him right in the chest and he looked surprised even though he pointed his rifle right at you. Ok, maybe a book at a time wont help.

Mustering all your strength, you shoved the entire bookcase toward him. It was quite the task but thankfully it toppled with a deafening crash - a cascade of books and wood slamming down where he stood.

For a moment, you thought you’d won. Just for a moment. But then, from beneath the wreckage, came his low laughter.

The rubble shifted as Seungmin emerged, his pristine shirt now streaked with dust and a thin cut tainting the flawless skin of his cheek. And he looked eerily calm.

“Well played,” he admitted, brushing himself off. “Very resourceful.”

Then, he lifted the rifle again. And just like that another shot rang out as you bolted for the door. You ducked into a side hallway, your bare feet slipping on the polished floors.

“Ah, sister-in-law, cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once.” Oh damn him and his damn calm voice that had the skin on the back of your neck prickling.

“Seriously?!” you yelled, running as fast as you could in your dress. “You’re quoting Julius Caesar right now?”

“Context is everything, don’t you think?” he called back, the sound of his footsteps growing louder.

He was close, really close and you glance around frantically for something you could use. And your eyes fell on a spear embedded on the wall.

Who used spears as wall decorations? Oh, rich people, apparently. Your hands fumbled as you yanked it off the clips holding it up.

You gripped it tightly, moving carefully until you found a little space in the wall. You waited, Seungmin's footsteps now way too close.

“Peek-a-boo,” he whispered, stepping in front of you, and before you could swing the spear at him, someone grabbed him.

You screamed, until you came face-to-face with your husband, who was now tackling Seungmin onto the ground.

“Oh my God,” You groaned, breathing heavily as another shot was fired, this time creating a hole on the ceiling.

“Run!! GO!” Hyunjin was shooing you away, and you did, straight for the window that was partially open, and not thinking twice before slipping right out.

It was so silent. The storm had reduced to a drizzle, and the moon was out. And there was no one around. Or so you thought.

You stumbled into the mansion’s greenhouse, hoping you could hide here till Hyunjin found his way to you. Your lungs burned, and your legs felt like they might give out.

The greenhouse was eerie with the moonlight streaming through the stained panes. The air smelled of damp earth and flowers.

You were catching your breath when you heard it: the unmistakable twang of a crossbow. A bolt shot past your head, embedding itself into a wooden post.

“Oh, damn, I missed,” came Felix’s deep voice, the sound somehow both casual and unhinged all at once.

“For fucks sake,” You muttered under your breath, turning around slowly.

Felix and Jeongin stood near the greenhouse entrance, their crossbows glinting menacingly in the moonlight.

“Hyung said to keep it clean,” Jeongin muttered, ready to fire.

Felix chuckled, stretching dramatically. You took a step back.

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in clean? Besides…” His sharp gaze landed on you as you pressed yourself further into the shadows. “She looks ready for some fun.”

Before you could even think about running, Felix raised his crossbow and fired. You dropped to the ground, the bolt whizzing past and snapping through a pot behind you.

“Nice move!” Felix called out, as if this were some casual game of tag.

“She’s scared,” Jeongin said, stepping closer. He was aiming at you now too, his aim steady. “They all panic eventually.”

Your heart raced as they moved closer, their steps slow and deliberate, like predators circling prey.

“Hyunjin did really well, finding you,” Felix mused, his tone flirty. “But I don’t think he told you everything, did he? Like how the odds of surviving this game are… slim.”

You gritted your teeth, your eyes darting around the greenhouse.

“Oh, she’s thinking,” Jeongin said with a grin. “What’s the plan, sister-in-law? Gonna throw a cactus at us?”

You didn’t wait for them to make the next move. Instead, you bolted deeper into the greenhouse, weaving through the labyrinth of plants and tables.

Another bolt zipped past your ear, shattering the glass on one of the panes.

“Stop running!” Jeongin called, his voice echoing through the space. “You’re just making it harder on yourself.”

“Let her run, Innie,” Felix drawled, his voice teasing. “We’ll still find you, love. We always win.”

You ducked behind a massive planter, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. You could hear their footsteps closing in.

“You take left,” Felix said, his tone annoyingly confident.

“Got it,” Jeongin replied.

As they split up, you spotted your opportunity - a shelf lined with gardening supplies. Biting back your fear, you grabbed a metal rake.

Just then Jeongin appeared in front of you, grinning. And you've had just about enough of it, as you used the back of the rake, running it straight into his abdomen.

Jeongin looked thoroughly shocked as he lost his balance as fell back, the impact sending everything crashing down - pots, a bag of fertilizer - all of it raining down on Jeongin.

“Shit!” he yelled, his crossbow clattering to the floor as he tried to fend off the avalanche of gardening supplies.

Felix whipped around, his smirk vanishing as he realized what had happened. “Jeongin!”

Before he could react further, you grabbed the nearest object - a heavy watering can - and swung it at him. The impact caught him off guard, and he stumbled.

You didn’t wait for them to recover. Grabbing Jeongin’s fallen crossbow, you sprinted toward the greenhouse exit, your pulse pounding in your ears.

Behind you, Felix’s voice rang out, furious now, “Oh, you’re dead, Y/N! Do you hear me? Dead!”

“Can you help me, hyung?”Jeongin groaned, still half-buried under the pile of tools.

“You’re useless!” Felix snapped, though his irritation seemed directed more at himself than his younger brother.

As you burst out of the greenhouse and into the cool night air, you noticed that you'd ripped your beautiful dress. Now it hung awkwardly, and you felt a pang deep inside you. But you couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh.

Somewhere in the distance, you heard Hyunjin calling your name.

“Hold on my love,” you whispered to yourself, gripping the stolen crossbow tighter. “I'm gonna fucking kill you.”

You were starting to think you might actually make it. You were trying to follow Hyunjin’s voice, but you knew stepping back into the house was a poor move. Because as you moved into the billiards room - you felt something was terribly off. Well, more off than the current situation.

The soft glow of a fireplace lit the room, casting shadows that danced across the green pool table. You leaned against it, catching your breath, but your grip on the crossbow was still tight.

And then, from behind you, came the sound of slow, deliberate clapping.

“Well, well, well. Look who’s made it this far,” a voice drawled, smooth and dripping with amusement.

You spun around, raising the crossbow instinctively, only to come face-to-face with Chan. He leaned casually against the doorframe, a sleek black pistol twirling lazily in his fingers. His shirt was slightly unbuttoned, and his dark eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Put that thing down, sweetheart,” he said, smirking. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Stay back,” you warned, keeping the crossbow aimed at him despite the tremble in your hands.

He raised his free hand in mock surrender, the pistol still balanced in his other.

“Whoa, easy there. I’m just here to chat. Family tradition and all, you know how it is.”

“Chat?” you scoffed. “You’re holding a gun.”

“And you’re holding a crossbow. We’re even.” Chan tilted his head, his grin widening.

He took a step closer, his gaze locked on yours.

“I have to admit, Y/N, you’ve done better than most. Usually, they don’t make it past Felix.”

You stepped back, your back hitting the pool table.

“But you…” he continued, his tone low, “…you’re different. Smart. Quick.”

Your grip on the crossbow tightened as you said, “If you think flirting is going to stop me from shooting you, you’re out of your mind.”

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m not trying to stop you.” Chan chuckled.

With a flick of his wrist, he aimed the pistol directly at your chest, his playful demeanor not faltering for a second.

“Let’s play a little game, hmm? I’ll put mine down if you put yours down.”

“Why would I trust you?” You swallowed hard.

“Because you don’t have much of a choice,” he replied smoothly, stepping closer. “And because I like you, Y/N. I almost want you to win.”

“Almost?”

“Well…” He shrugged, his smirk growing darker. “It’s nothing personal. Family is… family.”

Before he could get another word out, you grabbed the nearest billiard ball from the table and hurled it at him.

“Whoa!” Chan ducked, laughing as the ball narrowly missed his head and cracked against the wall behind him. “Feisty! I like that!”

You didn’t wait for him to recover. Grabbing a cue stick, you swung it at him, forcing him to stumble back.

Chan, ever the showman (or show off), twirled his pistol and aimed again. But you jabbed stick towards him and the shot went off, shattering a whiskey decanter on the bar.

“Damn it,” he muttered, sidestepping as you swung again. “That was expensive!”

“You’re insane!” you yelled, as he grabbed the stick mid swing and tossed it aside. But you moved again, using the crossbow to slap the pistol off his hand. It fell to the floor with a clatter, and skidded away from Chan's reach.

“You’re incredible my love,” he said, and now mere inches apart.

Chan grinned at you, unapologetically, his chest rising and falling with exertion, his eyes flicking to your lips before meeting your gaze again.

“You know,” he murmured, voice soft and teasing, “if things were different, I’d marry you myself.”

You glared at him aiming the crossbow at him, “Too bad you’re a lunatic.”

“Guilty as charged.” he said, raising his hands as you got ready to take a shot. “Not bad, Y/N. Not bad at all.”

He watched as you backed toward the door, keeping the crossbow trained on him.

“Tell your family I’m not dying tonight.” you said, and he just smiled, and it looked way too genuine for someone who was trying to kill you.

“Oh, they’ll figure it out,” he replied in an infuriatingly calm tone. “Don't miss me too much, ok?”

You snorted. “Not in a million years.”

“We’ll see about that, sweetheart. We’ll see.” Chan’s laugh followed you as you slipped out of the room, your heart pounding in your chest.

You hadn’t seen anyone for a while now. You sat hidden behind the kitchen counter, the crossbow still in your hands. You wondered where Hyunjin was. And even though you were so mad at him, you worried if he was safe.

Then you heard it.

The rhythmic tap-tap-tap of a blade dragging along the steel counters.

“Y/N…” Minho’s voice sang out, eerily calm and lilting.

Your stomach dropped as you froze in place, listening. It was such a shame really, when Hyunjin had first introduced you to his cousins, you'd thought Minho was absolutely gorgeous. His soft voice and his smile. Huh what a waste.

Tap-tap-tap.

“Come on, Y/N,” he called, his tone laced with mock sweetness. “Let’s not make this harder than it needs to be. You know how this ends.”

The blade scraped again, sending a metallic screech through the air.

Keep moving, you told yourself. Don’t freeze. You crept along the counter, your bare feet barely making a sound against the tiled floor.

Your breath hitched as you caught sight of him through the narrow gap between the counters. Minho was toying with a massive butcher’s knife, the blade glinting under the yellow lights. His dark hair fell into his eyes as he smiled, the kind of smile that sent shivers down your spine.

You stayed low, gripping the crossbow in your hand, though your palms were slick with sweat.

“I know you’re in here, Y/N,” Minho continued, his voice teasing.

He stopped suddenly, tilting his head like a predator sniffing the air. Then, with a flick of his wrist, he plunged the knife into the nearest wall, the sound of it sinking into wood reverberating through the room.

Your heart nearly stopped. He was close. Too close.

“You know what’s funny?” he mused, pulling the knife free and resuming his casual walk. “Hyunjin thinks he can save you. He really believes that. But I’m not so sure. You've got him wrapped around your finger haven't you? Making him fight us for you?”

You clenched your teeth, anger flaring in your chest. How dare he!

“He’s twice the man you’ll ever be,” you whispered under your breath, more to steady yourself than anything else.

Unfortunately, Minho heard. His steps halted abruptly.

“Oh?” he said softly. “You do have a mouth on you. Let’s see if you can back that up.”

You didn’t wait for him to find you. Taking a deep breath, you leapt out from your hiding spot, aiming the crossbow directly at him.

“Tsk, tsk,” Minho chided, lunging toward you with the knife. “Is that Innie's?”

You barely ducked in time, his blade slicing through the air where your neck had been moments before. Scrambling backward, you grabbed a cast-iron skillet from the counter and swung it at him.

The clang of metal meeting metal rang out as he deflected your attack with his knife, his grin widening. “Oh, this is fun!”

“Glad you’re enjoying yourself,” you snapped, dodging as he lunged again.

The two of you danced around the kitchen in a deadly game of cat and mouse. Minho was relentless, his movements fluid like that of a dancer, while you were running purely on adrenaline. And you hissed in pain as he managed to slice the knife over your arm, drawing blood.

Minho backed you into a corner as you lost focus on seeing blood, the knife glinting dangerously as he raised it.

“Any last words?” he asked, tilting his head with a mock pout.

You were almost ready to accept your fate when a head popped in through the door, and you nearly wanted to cry when you saw Hyunjin stepping in quietly, grabbing a pan from the counter.

“Yes actually,” you said, your voice shaking but defiant.

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Let’s hear it.”

“Watch out.”

Before he could react, Hyunjin had swung the pan right at him, catching the side of his head in a dull clang. The impact sent Minho staggering back and dropping his knife, looking absolutely pissed.

Hyunjin jumped at the opportunity to grab the knife from and used his other hand to grab you before pulling you out the door.

“See you later, butcher boy,” you taunted, hearing Minho’s laughter loud and clear as you two fled.

You both slowed down as you reached a dark quiet corridor, and Hyunjin dropped the knife, and cupped your face with his hands.

You froze, torn between throwing yourself into his arms and wanting to use that knife on him.

“Don’t you dare -” you started, but Hyunjin ignored your warning, pulling you into his chest so tightly you could barely breathe.

“Thank God,” he whispered against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re okay. I was so scared -”

You shoved him back with enough force to make him stumble, glaring at him with all the fury you could muster.

“Okay? Are you insane? Your family is trying to kill me, Hyunjin! You’re all insane! If I survive this, I’m going to kill you myself!”

He winced, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I know, baby, I know. I’m trying to fix it, I swear.” he said, his voice as soft as ever. Fuck, this man won't let you hate him.

“You better fix it faster,” you hissed, jabbing a finger into his chest. “Because if someone kills me tonight, I'm gonna haunt your sorry ass forever!”

Hyunjin’s lips quirked into a faint smile despite everything

“You’re terrifying when you’re angry. It’s… kind of hot.”

“Shut up!” Before you could say more, a low whistle interrupted you.

“Well, isn’t this touching,” Felix’s smooth voice cut through the hallway.

You and Hyunjin turned to see him casually strolling toward you, crossbow slung over one shoulder. His hair was wild, streaks of blood on his cheek, and yet he somehow still managed to look annoyingly composed.

Behind him, Jisung followed, twirling a machete in one hand and his grin? Unsettlingly cheerful.

“What do you think, Lix?” Jisung asked, glancing between you and Hyunjin. “Do we give them a few more minutes, or do we get this over with?”

Felix tilted his head, as if considering it.

“Hmm… I think we’ve waited long enough.” he said, his eyes fixed on you.

Hyunjin immediately stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body.

“Don’t even think about it.” he bit out.

“Hyunie,” Felix said, his voice taking on a wheedling tone. “You’ll let me have her won't you? I’m your favorite brother!”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened, his tone dangerously low. “Felix, I swear to God-”

“That’s hurtful,” Jisung interjected, his grin faltering as he clutched his chest dramatically. “What about me? I’m your brother too, you know.”

This was getting absolutely crazy, when the loud, unmistakable click of a shotgun echoed through the hallway.

“Looks like we’re just in time,” Yeji’s voice rang out, dripping with sarcasm. “Are we talking about favorites?”

All four of you turned to see her standing at the end of the hall, her ponytail swaying as she cocked the shotgun. Behind her, Changbin appeared, hefting an axe with ease.

“Oh, come on.” Felix groaned audibly.

“Go away Yeji!” Jisung whined. “This was just getting good!”

Yeji smirked, aiming her gun right at Felix.

“Lixie, I told you if you tried to go after them, I’d take you out myself.” she scolded, as if Felix was a toddler.

Changbin grinned, resting the axe on Jisung’s shoulder. “And I’ll help.”

“Fine. Whatever. Is this a twin thing? Is that what this is?” Felix sighed dramatically, lowering his crossbow.

“Call it whatever you want.” Yeji said, her gun pressing against his chest. “Walk away, Lixie. I'd hate to choose between my brothers. And I'm sure you'd hate it more.”

“I doubt it,” Hyunjin muttered under his breath.

“You’re all such buzzkills,” Jisung complained, dragging his machete as he followed Felix, though he paused briefly to glance at Hyunjin. “And I am a good brother, you jerk.”

“Jisung!” Hyunjin barked, exasperated.

---

As Felix and Jisung disappeared down the corridor, Yeji and Changbin walked up to you.

Yeji reached out to take a look at the wound on your arm, but smiled and said, “You’re tougher than you look.”

“Yeah, she’s cool. Let’s keep her alive.” Changbin nodded, grinning.

“Uh… thanks?” You blinked at them, still trying to process the whirlwind of events.

Hyunjin sighed, pulling you close again. “I told you I’d keep you safe.”

You shot him a glare and said, “I still want to kill you.”

His lips twitched into a small smile, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I love you, baby.”

“I'm not saying it back.”

Yeji cleared her throat.

“Alright, lovebirds, let’s keep moving. I haven't seen Channie or Minho, so -” Yeji fell silent as you rounded a corner, and walked right into them.

Minho and Chan.

Both of them stood with smug grins plastered on their faces, completely relaxed, as though they hadn’t just spent the last few hours hunting you down.

“She really made it this far,” Chan said, his voice dripping with a playful menace, his beloved pistol back in his hand.

Minho’s eyes narrowed in amusement as he approached you. “Not bad, but I'm afraid this is where it ends, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and teasing.

You bristled, hating how amused they seemed.

“Are you seriously enjoying this?” you snapped, stepping toward Minho, as Hyunjin grabbed you back into his chest.

Minho cocked his head, his lips curving up into a smile.

“Oh, darling. I don’t know about the killing part. But yes I am enjoying watching you fight for your life.” His eyes flicked over to Hyunjin. “Both of you, really. It’s a beautiful thing to witness.”

Hyunjin held you tight so that you didn't do anything stupid.

Chan, on the other hand, was casually strolling toward you, eyes full of mischief.

“You know, Hyunjin,” he said with a chuckle. “You’ve got the perfect wife. She’s tough, strong-willed, and just as deadly as you are. But…”

Yeji had her gun aimed at Chan, and Changbin was ready to attack, when the first rays of sunlight broke through the grand windows, casting golden light over the hall.

It was dawn. The game was over.

Chan and Minho’s expressions shifted instantly. The tension drained from their faces, and their smiles, previously so sinister, softening.

“Well, shit,” Minho muttered, tossing the knife aside.

Chan let out a long breath, also dropping his weapon.

“Congratulations love, it's finally over.” he said with a smile so genuine, you were thoroughly confused. “You won.”

Hyunjin let out a sigh (or a sob) of relief, before he hugged you tighter and almost tackled you into a kiss. He couldn't speak at all, like he was processing it all. It was over.

Before you could say anything, the sound of more footsteps echoed through the corridor. You turned to see Seungmin, Jeongin, Felix and Jisung approaching, looking equally exhausted but with visible relief in their eyes.

“Oh thank god,” Jisung breathed, a grin breaking out across his face. “I know what we discussed, but I couldn't help but feel like one of you would break-”

“Well, everyone's still breathing. That’s a win.” Felix clapped his hands, clearly relieved.

Hyunjin stood there, quietly surveying the group around him. His brothers - his family - had all stepped back, looking less like the men who had been hunting you down for hours, and more like… well, like they’d just wrapped up an intense game of tag.

Felix gave him a quick wink, his ever-present cocky grin on his face as he nodded toward you and Hyunjin. But there was something in his eyes, something that only Hyunjin knew - they’d all been sparing you two.

Minho, standing just behind Felix, let out a soft laugh and patting him on the back.

“Welcome to the family, sister-in-law,” he said in his trademark deadpan voice.

“What the fuck is going on here?!” you blurted, the realization hitting you real hard. “You…you didn’t want to kill me? This whole time?”

Hyunjin’s eyes flicked over to Yeji, who was watching the exchange with a bemused expression.

She knew. She had to have known.

“They didn’t,” Yeji confirmed, her voice a soft whisper. “None of them did. This was all for show.”

Her eyes locked onto Hyunjin’s for a moment, giving him a smile. She stepped forward, taking your hand in hers.

“We had to make it look real. The elders would have interfered if they thought we weren't doing it right.” She said. "They have cameras everywhere."

You blinked, your head spinning as everything began to make sense.

“But… but why? You could've given us a hint-”

“We couldn't,” Minho interjected smoothly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If we hadn’t done this right, the old man would’ve figured something was up. They don’t exactly trust Hyunjin, he's been the softie since day one. Or Yeji for that matter. But if we wanted to give you a chance, it had to be like this.”

You just looked at him with a blank look on your face and his eyes fell on your bleeding hand.

"And I'm sorry about that. Someone had to do it, and none of these pussies would-"

"MINHO!" Yeji hissed.

“And that's cos we wouldn't do it to Hyun...” Seungmin said, giving you a smile. “Besides, I was actually glad to finally have someone who had good taste in books, I wasn't gonna let you die-”

“Oh wow Seungmin, that was heart touching-” Hyunjin scoffed.

“Family…” You echoed, your voice shaky.

“Baby, I'm so sorry I dragged you into this. I knew the minute I told you the truth, you'd run for your life and I'd lose you forever. I… I never wanted you to go through this, baby. I will do anything it takes to win your trust again.”

You nodded, still not sure how you felt about all this.

“But you’re lucky, Hyunie.” Felix said, grinning at Hyunjin. “She’s a keeper. We'll be here for you both, always. No ones gonna do anything.”

“You're finally free, Hyunjin, take your girl and go live your life. You passed their fucking test. They won't come after you.” Yeji said, giving him a nod.

Hyunjin’s hand tightened on your shoulder, and he leaned in and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You can walk out right now if you want, baby. I won't stop you. But if you decide to give me a chance, I need you to know that no matter what, I’ll always keep you safe.”

You nodded slowly, a knot in your chest loosening as you processed his words. The night had been a mess, yes, and you will probably never forget everything that has happened. But you also know Hyunjin was genuine.

“Let me sleep on it, maybe I'll give you a chance after all. If one of your siblings don't kill me in my sleep.”

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun

[misseverandever]

I CAN READ THIS, AND I WILL! LET’S GOOOOOOO!

omg was not on my 2024 bingo that I’m actually gonna read Melinda’s set for Anya

FRIST CARD: FOUR OF CUPS (the past)

that’s symbolizes Anya past implicating on her present, the cart indicates a need to experiences something new that brings joy and fills this empty space, something we see in our little girl eyes and i’m happy to see she’s doing good cuz in the past she certainly was a person that spends their days with their head down.

SECOND CARD: DEATH (the present)

The upright Death tarot card symbolizes transformation and the beginning of something new. It represents closing a chapter, leaving past experiences behind, we can think about Anya maturing and liberating from the trauma! Well in relationship (anya question) suggests the relationship may be stuck in a stagnant or unproductive dynamic, what we definitely can see, she tell his mother that he bullies her

THIRD CARD: THREE OF SWORDS (hidden influences)

The unseen problem huh? There’s a lot of them, well Donovan, Twilight, Operation Stixs… etc etc….

Whenever this card appears in a reading, it indicates conflict, disappointment, and misunderstanding (Well that’s definitely is the case), maybe Damian is definitely gonna be sad about why her approach to him, we know this is real cuz Damian already say before about people approaching him just because he is a Desmond and we know Anya have the same goal, but no worries is gonna be difficult but it can be resolved (they need to talk about this) !!!!

FORTH CARD: THE STAR (ANYA)

The Star in the upright position symbolizes hope, inspiration, and peace for the future. BUT is in the reversed position, so Anya reflects the feelings of hopelessness, confusion, and doubt as her navigate life's challenges and question circumstances. We see Melinda like that, and surprisingly Anya feel empty for her!

(So cute Anya being the star)

FIFTY CARD: TEN OF PENTACLES (the influence of others)

What kinds of external influences are dominating the situation? Well all of them! This card is important because it influences how others close to the Querent feel about the situation. AND GUESS ITS ALL RIGHT! This is a very positive card, and its positivity indicates that the path of challenges and difficulties has already been traveled, and now is the time to reap what is deserved. INNN THE RELATION WAAAAY (remember Anyas question not just because you know… i’m a shipper) is gonna be an harmony between them, whit a lot of happiness, cuties!

SIXTH CARD: ACE OF CUPS (what Anya have to do)

We see he is receiving, It’s often represents sadness, loss, and frustration, signaling difficulty in connecting. We know Damian is a difficult person, Anya have to deal with his feelings, is an important thing to do cuz if she don’t, they will not be together.

SEVENTH CARD: THREE OF WANDS (final results)

This last card is important because it takes into account all the six previous cards in its response. Here, we have an indicator of what the final resolution to the problem will be.

In this spread, the energy here is one of movement, so Anya cannot (and will not) stay still and she cannot try to handle everything alone.

The card indicates complicity, true love, and a strong connection. Sooo don't worry, as the frendship is real, and they will overcome it together.

SHE KNOWS!

SORRY MY ENGLISH IS KINDA BAD SO CAN YOU GUYS PLEASE FORGIVE ANY ERRORS IN THE TEXT? I was so exited to reed this, if you need tarot read dm me 🫶

[greengoblinswifey]

Symbol of Love— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— based off sofia and rafe’s cute moment in s4 ep 9 so slight spoilers. rafe is on mission to catch groff and he gives you something to treasure before he leaves.

warnings— spoilers, fluff, mentions of death.

a/n— saw the scene and immediately decided to write this, my heart is melting omg ugh that should be me and him. these new batch of episodes have been such a roller coaster, can’t wait to finish and see how everything plays out <3

Rafe’s hands were tense as walked around the sand, jaw tight as he tried to process what he’d just learned. Chandler Groff had stolen his money, and he boated off the island. You leaned against the tree, eyes wide as you tried to absorb the news. Hollis’ death had hit you harder than you let on, and whispers were circulating that JJ Maybank might have been involved. Nothing felt certain anymore, but what you did know was that Rafe had always been the one constant—until now.

“Okay, but listen,” Rafe said, his voice sharp and urgent. “Unless I catch up with Groff now, that money is long gone.”

“Where is he, Rafe?” you asked, your heart pounding. You didn’t want him to go, especially not alone, but you knew you couldn’t stop him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, his gaze fixed somewhere past you. “I’ll track him down. I’ll get it all back.” There was a steely resolve in his voice, a familiar determination that reminded you of just how far he would go to keep what was his.

But before he could take off, he turned to you, his eyes softening just and took a deep breath. “I want to say something first.”

You opened your mouth, the confession about Hollis and everything that happened burning on your tongue. “Rafe, I- I need to tell you something too.”

Before you could finish, he startled you by dropping to one knee, pulling out a beautiful ring from his pocket. Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly you felt like the world was spinning.

He held it up to you, his gaze never leaving yours. “It was my mom’s,” he said softly, his voice breaking just slightly. “Been in my family forever. I know it’s some kook bullshit, but I just- I wanted you to have it before I left. So you’d know this, us- we’re real.”

“Rafe, wait,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I- I did something. It’s about Hollis. There’s more I didn’t tell you—”

He cut you off, shaking his head and cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “Don’t. There’s things about me you don’t know. And trust me, they’re way worse than anything you could say. I don’t care what you did, and I don’t care to know.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed intense. “I want you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You could barely breathe, tears leaving your eyes and he slipped the ring on your finger, his eyes pleading.

You were crying now, overwhelmed by the depth of his acceptance. You could feel his hands tremble as he slid the ring onto your finger. “Say yes,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “There’s no more pogue bullshit, okay? No more of that. I want you to quit that job and move in with me.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a promise, and you nodded, barely able to find your voice. “Yes, Rafe.”

He smiled, relief flooding his face as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands cradling your face as if you were something fragile he had to hold onto. You kissed him back, fingers curling into his jacket, your tears mixing with his warmth.

When you pulled away, he pressed a key into your palm, closing your fingers over it. “It’s to the house. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Stay there for me, okay? At my—no, our place.”

He brushed a kiss across your forehead, and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with one last look, he turned, walking toward his boat as you watched him go.

The salty breeze whipped around you, and you looked down at the ring, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. It was beautiful and strange, the symbol of a life you were about to share with him, a life you’d always dreamed of. You traced the ring with your thumb, marveling at its age, its history, a part of him that would stay with you even as he left.

Tears blurred your vision as he boarded the boat, but you stood there, rooted, until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, clutching the key and the promise he’d left behind.

As you watched Rafe disappear over the horizon, a wave of fear washed over you, heavier than the ocean air around you. You knew how dangerous Groff could be, how far he was willing to go to keep what he’d stolen. And now, Rafe was chasing him down. Your heart twisted, the thought of something happening to him tugging at every corner of your mind. But then you shook yourself, forcing the doubt back. Rafe was tough, stronger than anyone you knew. He could handle himself. He’d be okay.

He’d come back.

You took a deep breath, letting the thought settle over you like a warm blanket. He’d come back, and when he did, you’d spend the rest of your lives together. There would be reward, there would be sunshine after the storm. Your love, this wild, all-consuming love, could survive anything. It had to. Everything was going to be okay.

You glanced down at the ring he’d placed on your finger, feeling its weight, its history pressing against your skin like a quiet promise. Your fingers tightened around the key in your other hand, holding onto it as if it could anchor you to this moment, to him. This key was a piece of him, a piece of your future together, the home you’d share, the life you’d build once he returned.

With one last look out at the horizon, you whispered a silent promise of your own. Then you turned back holding the ring and the key close to your heart, holding onto the hope that soon, he’d be back in your arms.

[gloomglimmer]

𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐓  𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃  𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒  .  .  .  (𝐭𝐡𝐞  𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭  𝐨𝐟  𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐬  —  𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬  𝐨𝐟  𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞)         These  prompts  draw  from  the  emotional  depth  and  symbolism  of  the  Page,  Knight,  Queen,  and  King  of  Cups.         Each  prompt  captures  a  moment  where  the  sender  confesses  their  love  to  the  receiver.          →  ∗  ⁽  ¹  ⁾  Find  the  collection  of  tarot-based  scene  starters  here!

⁽  *  ⁾   𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒   →  soft  &  gentle

"I’ve  cared  for  you  far  longer  than  I  should  have,  but  I  couldn’t  hold  it  in  anymore.”

“Every  time  I  look  at  you,  it  feels  like  the  world  quiets  down.  And  if  that’s  not  love,  I  don’t  know  what  is.”

“I’ve  held  these  feelings  for  so  long,  afraid  of  what  might  happen  if  I  spoke  them.”

“I  would  do  it  all  for  us.”

“You  deserve  to  be  held  with  love  and  not  such  content.” 

“Please  do  not  treat  our  love  as  a  forbidden  fruit.”

⁽  *  ⁾   𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓  𝐎𝐅  𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒  →  protective  &  reassuring 

“This  is  for  you.  I’ve  crossed  lands,  braved  storms,  and  risked  everything  because  I  love  you.”

“I  have  risked  everything  and  it  was  all  worth  it.” 

“Do  you  think  I  regret  the  way  I  feel?  Because  I  don’t.  I  can’t.  Even  if  this  is  the  last  time  I  can  hold  you  like  this.”

“You  cannot  dare  say  you  are  blind  in  the  way  you  have  bewitched  me.” 

“I’m  not  asking  for  forgiveness.  I’m  simply  telling  you  that  no  one  has  ever  touched  me  like  you  do,  and  no  one  ever  will.  You’ve  bound  my  soul  to  yours,  willingly  or  not.”

“I  killed  for  you  and  I  dare  say  I  would  do  it  again.” 

“Our  love  is  by  our  own  undoing.” 

“Nothing  will  ever  happen  to  you.” 

⁽  *  ⁾   𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍  𝐎𝐅  𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒  →  forbidden  &  passionate

“I  know  we  shouldn’t,  but  I  can’t  keep  pretending  that  I  don’t  want  this.  My  heart  has  been  yours,  even  if  I  had  to  hide  it  away.”

“There  are  things  in  this  world  I’m  willing  to  risk...  and  you  are  the  biggest  of  them.  I’ve  never  been  more  certain  of  anything  in  my  life.”

“Release  me  if  you  truly  do  not  love  me.”

“I  love  you  so  dearly  so”

“I  can’t  hide  it  anymore.  The  fire  I  feel  when  I’m  near  you,  the  longing  in  every  touch—it's  all  too  much,  but  it's  always  been  real.”

“Do  you  think  I  chose  this?  I  didn't.  But  here  I  am,  loving  you  in  the  way  that  feels  like  i'm  on  fire  and  yet,  I  can’t  seem  to  care.”

“I’ve  wanted  you  for  so  long,  even  when  I  knew  I  shouldn’t"

⁽  *  ⁾   𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆  𝐎𝐅  𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐒  →  passionate  &  soul  bounding

“My  soul  cannot  be  free  of  you.”

“Look  me  in  the  eyes  and  dare  tell  me  you  don't  love  me  back.”

“I’ve  spent  so  long  fighting  this,  pretending  I  could  live  without  you..”

“My  heart  doesn’t  belong  to  me  anymore.  It  belongs  to  you.”

“You  think  I’m  afraid  of  what’s  between  us,  but  I’m  not.  I’m  terrified  of  what  life  would  be  without  you.  I’ve  never  felt  more  alive,  more  connected,  more  me  than  when  I’m  with  you.”

“Love?  You're  not  the  love  of  my  life.  You  are  my  life.”

[multific]

A Wedding Beneath The Moonlight

Count Orlok x Reader

Summary: Every girl's dream is to find a man and have the perfect wedding. But everyone has different meanings of perfection.

The night was still, and the air was cold, carrying the soft scent of pine from the nearby forest.

Above you, the full moon cast its glow across the darkened grounds of the ancient castle.

Tonight was the night of your wedding.

You stood alone in one of the upper chambers, looking at yourself in your reflection in a tarnished mirror.

The dress you wore was unlike anything mortal hands could create.

Crafted by Nosferatu himself, he insisted on making your dress.

The dress shimmered faintly in the moonlight, a fabric of deep midnight blue that flowed like a shadow around you.

Tiny silver threads were sewn into the material, resembling stars scattered across a night sky.

The bodice was fitted, embroidered with delicate patterns of ancient symbols, his symbols, while the long sleeves clung to your arms before flaring out at the wrists.

A faint breeze moved through the open window, causing the veil resting on your head to move gently.

It was sheer, as thin as mist, and it framed your face perfectly.

You ran your hands down the length of the dress, your fingers trembling slightly with anticipation.

This was the moment you had dreamed of, literally.

The moment you would bind yourself forever to him, the creature who had once been a shadow in the night but had now become the very centre of your world.

There was no priest, no audience. It would be just the two of you and the moon, as it had always been meant to be.

A soft knock echoed through the heavy wooden door, and you turned, your heart quickening.

When the door creaked open, there he stood, your beloved.

His pale skin seemed even more pale beneath the moonlight, his crimson eyes glowing softly as they locked with yours.

He was dressed in a long, dark cloak of velvet, the collar high and stiff, giving him an air of regal elegance. Around his neck hung an ancient pendant, a symbol of his lineage. His heavy breathing filled the room as your heart hammered against your ribs.

“You look…” He paused, his voice low and careful. “You look like the night itself, beautiful and eternal.”

“And you look like my forever.” you offered him a shy smile.

He extended his hand to you, and you took it, his cool fingers wrapping around yours. Together, you descended the winding stone staircase, your footsteps echoing softly in the silence.

The air grew colder as you stepped outside into the courtyard, you shivered slightly under the cold air.

There, beneath the open sky, the ceremony would take place. Just as you wished.

No torches or lanterns, the moon provided all the light you required.

Count Orlok turned to face you, his eyes locking with yours.

He held both your hands in his, and though his touch was cold, it brought you comfort. You could feel the strength in him, the ancient power that moved through his veins, yet there was something else.

A small humanity, only for you, remaining in him alive.

“I have lived for centuries. Through endless nights, I have wandered alone, never imagining that I would find something to make eternity enjoyable. But then I found you. You, who brought light into my darkness. You, who showed me that even a creature of the dark can love. I vow to you, to protect you, to cherish you, to honour you. You are my light, and I will spend eternity by your side.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you gave his hands a gentle squeeze. “And I vow to you, My Count, to stand by your side, through darkness and light. You are my heart, my soul, my love. I choose you, Count Orlok, for all eternity."

Slowly, he lifted your hand to his lips, brushing a kiss on your knuckles. His eyes gleamed with something more than love.

“There is only one thing left. A kiss to seal our vows,” he said, his voice a whisper.

With a gentle touch, he cupped your face in his hands. As he leaned in, you closed your eyes, you fully gave yourself to him.

When his lips met yours, it was as if the entire world disappeared, leaving only the two of you, bound together beneath the watchful eyes of the moon.

The kiss was long and lingering, filled with the promise of forever.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes still closed, you smiled up at him, heart full.

“You are my wife now,” he said, his voice soft but filled with possessive pride. “My empress of the night.” He slipped a beautiful gold ring on your finger.

“And you are my husband. My eternal love.” A ring for him too.

As the wind howled with fear. People living close by felt the coldness of the night. The dread. The world was scared.

And while others trembled with fear, under the same moon, Count Orlok and his bride began theirs forever.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

Wattpad

/DO NOT TRANSLATE, STEAL OR REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[lovelicht]

PAC: Wishes from your past self

Hello to everyone! I hope December treats you well, and if not, that the holidays shall bring you the light you need! ✨

My name is Licht and this is my second PAC on this account, and I hope it shall prove helpful. In a way or another it’s meant to become a gift from our past for the future, depending on what we choose to hear in the present. I am in no way a professional, and I’m yet to acquire the experience needed, so make sure to proceed mindfully. Have fun and make sure to share your thoughts if you feel like it! 💕

Disclaimer: As I am not a professional reader, all of the posts are to be taken with a grain of salt. This is a general reading, so some things might not resonate. Regardless of the situation, please remember that tarot portrays only one of the multiple scenarios of your life and you choose whether to follow it or not.

(1->2, 3->4)

Group 1

Cards: The Star, Seven of Wands, Five of Coins Rx, Ace of Coins (bottom of the deck: Page of Coins)

Who is your past self?

A dreamer was the first thing that came to my mind - the Star is a symbol of hope, resolve in the darkness of our lives, as well as life’s brightest days. In your past you might have struggled financially or might have had a defective relationship with your family, friends, which had left you wishing for more, to receive what you unfairly didn’t get just because life dealt you an unfair hand. The young girl looks at the sky praying that things will get better, and the one who wishes shall be rewarded: the toys, the friends, the love you felt you lacked played in the back of your mind, in your daydreams, till they could one day become the steps you build your better future on

Your current situation:

The Seven of Wands shows that you’re currently working hard on achieving what you believe in, to ensure your future, possibly even driven by the feeling of lacking that got imprinted into your memory as a result of your life growing up. Though we didn’t quite get to the wishes part, I feel like you need to be reminded to listen to your body and take occasional breaks, as you might be prone to overworking yourself to a nearly unhealthy extent. Your body needs to be rested in order to offer you the energy and strength you need, otherwise you won’t be fighting but windmills

What do they wish you these holidays?

Generally I felt a truly pleasant energy coming through, as if your past self is truly happy you are achieving so much for both of you. Nonetheless, they wish you to feel less lonely and powerless these holidays. Release the fears of your past and embrace acceptance, the future you are creating for yourself one step after another. They are clearly hinting you should get out of your walls slowly but surely and embrace the warmth of relationships that could come if you are to accept them into your life

How can you make it come true?

Nourish your dreams and even the wildest wish shall come true. Page of Coins signifies a new beginning and so does te Ace of Coins. Your work is seen and it will be rewarded, you just need to continue for it to flourish. If by any chance you had any new business idea, no matter how grand or insignificant, the cards are confirming it could aid you into bringing financial abundance into your life. Don’t give up! Your manifestation, whether mental or physical will come into being - nothing lasting is built in a day

Group 2

Cards: Four of Cups Rx, Strength Rx, Two of Swords, Queen of Swords (bottom of the deck: Five of Swords)

Who is your past self?

At first when the card felt I thought your past self had a somewhat privileged upbringing, diving more into it however, I believe this person was more of a gifted individual than a spoiled one, perhaps too gifted for their own preference - “ignorance is bliss”. The more you see and understand the easier it becomes a curse, does it not? You seem to have been quite the achiever, someone who managed quite a lot at their young age, be it actual contests or a general showcase of intellect and talent, yet you didn’t seem to derive too much joy from it as to you it might have been something normal “just the usual” (INTX vibes) even though to others it could be unthinkable

Your current situation

Combined with the previous card, I’m inclined to believe you identify yourself as a “burnt out gifted child” with a well-defined impostor syndrome. You overthink a lot, and it is just as much your downfall. The more you go down the rabbit hole, the less you believe in yourself and the potential you hold within. You are your own jailer and saviour, you merely ought to choose which side to pick depending on what you prefer: the familiarity of wailing in your own darkness or opening your eyes to what you can do with the gifts presented to you on a silver plate - nobody else will do this for you, trust me, some problems can be only solved by ourselves, though it doesn’t mean we cannot ask for guidance in the process

What do they wish you?

Your past self wants you to choose what to do next. The Two of Swords is blind thus asks for introspection before walking any of the paths presented. Truth is, there’s always fear in the unknown, but is the destruction that the known brings worth not taking a leap of faith? You can continue denying the lifestyle you have, continue living with the fear of failing in the real life, but in the end what use of a life you cannot truly say you live?

How can you make it come true?

Find the balance between being rational and destructive - quite frequently even dearest mind can become our greatest enemy, your duty is to figure out the line at which freedom and self-imprisonment separate. You are undoubtedly a bright individual, all you need is to discern fairly between what serves you and what does not - cutting off bad habits, influences is hard, but in the end some threads are meant to be severed so you can see the actual one you shall follow to the end of the labyrinth

Group 3

Cards: Four of Swords Rx, Knight of Coins, Five of Swords, The Wheel of Fortune Rx, Seven of Cups Rx (bottom of the deck: Four of Wands)

Who is your past self?

Your past self most likely had to undergo serious transformations on an innate level, in a reality where they felt chained by circumstance. The card depicts being restrained for worldly good, as such, the painful events you once had to navigate served as a basis for becoming the one you needed the most and perhaps the one universe needed you to become the most. Suffering, while constraining on a mental level, drove you further to work on your actual soul and possibly even material goals, regardless of how hard it might have seemed. Your past self knew they had to get out, somewhere else mapped in their mind, and they did, or at least they came so much closer to it than they have ever been before

Your current situation

It seems that life has yet again brought you another unpleasant lesson. Five of Swords describes the energy of betrayal, disappointment and apparent defeat, though the victim of one battle doesn’t necessarily remain the one to surrender in the war. You have most likely been treated unfairly, despite everything you have done to this moment, and it tears your heart once more, possibly reopening wounds which you have been mending for the past few years I have mentioned in the previous paragraph

What do they wish you?

They want you to believe in the Universe and it’s infinitely variable essence - the wheel is always spinning and those who have once taken from you against your will shall be given the same treatment, but this time on divine terms. All the good karma shall be rewarded, all you need is to trust in it. These battles will be over eventually and you shall find respite and happiness, together with those you hold close, the allies you met along the way

How can you make it come true?

Focus on what you feel calls to you the most and do not share you energy and time left and right for what does not serve you. You are undoubtedly strong, but you need to also be wise about where is your strength needed - we are not meant to be endless wells, for the beauty of the energy we hold is what we choose to do with it. Your past self doesn’t want you to think about all the buts and ifs and look ahead instead and face the reality, escaping from the dreamscape of possibilities, possibly shaped inclusively by your own fears or lack of satisfaction with the hand you’ve been dealt

Group 4

Cards: The Moon Rx, Three of Cups, Two of Wands Rx, Knight of Coins (bottom of the deck: Ace of Cups)

Who is your past self?

The reversed Moon is a symbol of looking behind the magical veil of illusion, meaning to break the rose coloured sunglasses and realise that delusion, while sweet, remains exactly that - nothing but an empty hope clashing with a reality we don’t always dare to accept. Most likely, your past self had managed to learn that earlier than most, sensing things that most of your peers couldn’t even care to understand, and that, while a blessing made you also stand out a lot, to those who could see it - “you’re so mature for your age” is possibly something you have once heard being said in your address quite a lot and not for no reason. 

Your current situation

You seem to have a clear reason to celebrate given the Three of Cups, but they seemed to want to stay covered, thus it’s probable you cannot fully accept your success for some reason. With the bottom of the deck being the Ace of Cups, I am inclined to believe it could be related to a new emotional beginning in your life, perhaps even a romantic relationship that you are yet to fully process and accept. I feel as if you harbour a certain fear related to how good these events actually are and whether they will be there with you for longer. Life taught you that everything is ephemeral, even more the happy moments, and that a once happy moment can become the nightmare of another night, but you are yet to convince yourself that it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t let yourself enjoy it while you can.

What do they wish you?

Do not let fears overcome you and live the moment, embrace the future and accept the past, allowing yourself to be open to new horizons waiting for you. They want you to be more decisive about the opportunities you are presented, without falling into doubt - you have everything you need to navigate forward, no need to fear the unknown, because frequently it is in the unknown we discover true meanings

How can you make it come true?

Working and trusting the process is the key - being a little stubborn about what you dream of is by no means childish, nor egoistical, it is a demonstration of how much you matter to yourself. While you might be right that every banquet has an end, it doesn’t always mean the end will be bad, or that the end won’t bring a private party instead - you are allowed to want good things to happen without having to always be “objective” “realistic” about it, and who knows, maybe the banquet shall continue

Credits for the divider to @/cafekitsune

None of the pictures are mine. All of the pictures are from Pinterest

[reborn-readings]

What does your voice need from you at this moment?

Tip Jar | Masterlist | Personal Readings

Hello hello! Back with a new Pick a Pile, the second one in my 'needs from you' series, this time focused on steps you can take to heal your voice 💙

This is a group reading, so take what resonates and leave the rest. Don't force anything if it does not fit. Remember that the future is not set in stone and that other potential paths exist depending on your movement through the course of time.

Pile 1 (Left)

King of Pentacles | The Lovers | Eight of Coins – Ganesha | Rx Nine of Pentacles | Ace of Autumn | Citrine – Abundance | Power | Wisdom – Asking Questions 

This is an odd pile to start out with in the context of this being a spread about your voice. In this spread, I see you doing more than telling or saying. I see you as someone with a mastery over money, a willingness to train and grow, maybe to the point of your own detriment, and someone with a lot of impact and opportunity. But what I don’t see is recognition. 

In traditional Ride-Waite-Smith tarot, the journey of the pentacles is not complete until we recognize and enjoy the fruits of our labor and pass them on to the people we love. I see some blocked energy when it comes to this. The cycle is not complete without play and recognition. You are a very hard worker, but you are not being recognized for it. 

Is there a person in your life who’s driving you away from your due reward? If so, you should look deeply at your relationship with this person. They may not be doing this on purpose, but it is starting to wear you out. You are a powerful person, and they know it, so maybe it’s difficult to be frank and honest with them when it comes across as intimidating to them. But your voice wants you to know that you are sacrificing it to keep the peace. It wants you to ask earnest questions, to seek to connect, to understand and be understood at an even pace. You will not have the answer to every question, and you will learn to live with that, but right now, questions and answers are the bridges that you build using your voice to access a better life. 

Other messages - New opportunities abound, though you may not see them yet. Take a break. Gather your inner strength. If there’s someone you trust to mediate, pull them in. You are guarded. You are secure. Trust me. 

Symbols - The four elements. White dragon. Lemons. Spiting your face for others. Sitting on a couch at night. Overextended favors.

Pile 2 (Middle)

Nine of Wands | Rx Strength | Five of Coins – Lucifer | Ten of Cups | Six of Summer | Clear Quartz – Peace | Friendship | Grief – Accepting Loss 

My friend, Pile 2, I could feel the lump in your throat from the moment I drew the first card. Life is heavy right now. Not just heavy with grief or sorrow, but also heavy with joy. Does that make sense? There is so…much...going on right now. There are areas of your life where you feel exuberant, euphoric, absolutely bursting with joy, as if you’re a child frolicking through a field of flowers, barreling through the woods in full summer foliage. There are other parts of you that are choked with grief, areas of your life that perhaps you miss, what feels like holes in you from past events. You don’t feel like you’re strong enough to contain all of this, am I right? 

I ask you this: why do humans have strength? Why can we hold only so much? Why can we lift some burdens and not others? Why, after carrying what was easy for a long time, does it suddenly become difficult? Whatever the answer may be, burdens are meant to eventually be set aside, though it may feel heartbreaking to let go. And your voice is a wonderful conduit to take what you carry inside you and set it down in the outside world, whether that be in the ears of others or muffled into your pillow at night. 

Your voice wants you to let the waters loose. It may feel overwhelming, like a flood, at first, but soon, with proper care given to your voice, it will feel like a babbling brook snaking its way through you, carrying out what no longer helps you. The only way to get rid of the dirty water is to let the faucet go for a bit. This will help you feel better, let you think more clearly, and ease the burdens in your heart. 

Don’t be afraid to be still for a while. Don’t get so caught up in life that you miss what it feels like to become relieved and at peace. Those are experiences just like everything else. Strive for balance, but don’t strive too hard. Pay attention to your emotions and your expression and, over time, they will lead you along the right way. 

Other messages - Keep friends who care for you close and let other relationships go. In stillness the answer will be revealed. Major FOMO vibes – enjoy what you can in the moment. 

Symbols - Pale snow. Watercolor. A basket full of something that you’d carry in a grocery store? Going out with your friends. Magic show.

Pile 3 (Right)

Nine of Cups | Queen of Wands | Nurturer of Coins – Khem/Min/Khemnu | King of Swords | Four of Autumn | Red Aventurine – Journey | Faith | The General of Knowledge 

I have to say, Pile 3, in all my years of tarot, I’ve never pulled a spread and so quickly went ‘Wow. This person really has their life together!’ I get ‘cool’ vibes from you. The kind of person always showing up in daring but trendsetting outfits, never afraid to speak their minds, someone who people naturally gravitate toward even if they’re too cool to be seen hanging out with any old Joe off the street. 

Yet I can tell that you feel like something is missing, and I can tell you what it is. You’re smart as a whip and about as gentle as one too, someone who knows how to make their way through life in a calm and clean manner, and someone who knows how to be hot and passionate when it’s called for, but there’s a distinct lack of fulfillment in the emotional department. You are a fortress standing tall on a hill, but when you look down and see the trees bunched up together to make a forest, you wonder if maybe you’re doing something wrong by being solitary. If you already have it made, are you missing out on the pleasure of making? 

Of course, it might feel awful to think about showing this to anyone. It would tarnish your shine. And you don’t know if you could ever work your way back from that. But there is a transformative power in you. You can take any shape you please and guide others to be the best that they can be as well. You just have to have faith in yourself. 

Your voice is the tool you can use to help others. And when you help others, you earn their respect and they will help you in turn. Everybody loves a role model, a helper, but they also love to be useful in return. If you open yourself up to the people knocking on the door of your soul, you will find a menagerie of polite houseguests who can help you find that missing piece. 

Telling the truth doesn’t always mean sitting down and making a big show of it. Sometimes it can be something quiet and intimate, a true, one=on-one connection that fulfills you. I see you forging some genuine and mutually beneficial contacts with others. You, despite and because of your talent, are a part of the world. Come live in it! 

Other messages - Find a balance. Spirit is guiding you. Look for the most obvious solution.  

Symbols - Hands in the mud. A distinctive stud earring. Gentleness. Cherry. A thick coat. Many, many animals showing up—swan, butterfly, seabirds, big and small cats, farm animals. Something having to do with heat and hoarding.

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Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[marithempressz]

Pick a card - Messages from The Divine

Choose the pile that resonates with you the most, be smart and take only the messages that serves you. Have a nice reading!

Deck used: Tarot of The Divine

Choose your pile!

Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3

Pile 1

Eight of Wands. End of the deck: Four of Swords.

All over the place. While shuffling the cards, there were about two moments where a lot of them fell at the same time, a lot of energy, probably mental confusion. Four of Swords confirms that. 548 might be a significant number. A lot of anger for things not going the way you would like to, impatience, there’s something uncomfortable here. It feels like you want freedom from a situation, what you’ll have eventually, but it’s required stability from you. It’s tough to be waiting like that, unable to move or to know what to do for the next step. The obvious answer is to cultivate patience within this situation, but it seems like you’re tired of having this answer and still nothing really happens, it’s because there’s more to it, not just patience, maybe you don’t know how to deal with it in a balanced way. 

I don’t know what’s happening, but if there’s someone in a dangerous situation, of course patience it’s not really the answer if you need help as soon as possible. I hope you can count on someone or on a community for that. Ask for The Divine to help you. 

Back to the reading. There’s something about understanding how dealing with frustration is a process for your development. The Ego can be really demanding for its wants if it’s not well educated. 08:08 on the clock. By well educated I mean purified, question yourself: does what you want right now is what you really want? Is what you want a real necessity for your moment? How are your desires connected to The Divine? Fire, the element that rules the card picked, is a purifier in Alchemy, it’s also a symbol for the Spirit, it’s the Spirit who purifies the Ego, because the goal for this journey is to be in resonance with the Source. Ask for your desires to be connected with God’s will and then you’ll be led to your unique path.

Pile 2

Nine of Wands. End of the deck: Queen of Cups.

There’s something about recognizing the power of Feminine energy. God is a Woman. Trust your intuition. Step into your power, you’re a boss bitch, recognize that. You have survived all the way through, right now is not the best moment to give up. Don’t give attention to those fears, be smart and feed only the thoughts which are enriching for your journey. The Feminine Realm is not about fighting strongly with your fists, it’s more about being smart, knowing how to use your mind and intuition, watching the situation from afar. The element fire is shown in this reading, it’s a symbol for guidance, the light that illuminates the way. The tale being represented in the Nine of Wands card is Vasilisa The Beautiful, this moment of the story captured in the card is when she’s being guided through the forest by many fiery skulls, they represent the eternal light that exists inside of us and which will give us guidance at many moments. Remember that you’re free to ask for guidance, don’t ignore your power of connecting with the Source, don’t be afraid of it, it’s a gift and practice leads to its betterment.

At the beginning of the reading I felt this urge of being proud to be a woman, if you’re one, cis or trans, be proud of it, shower yourself with love for being born with this gift. In our history and culture it’s still considered a curse to be one, heal that part of you that feels like it’s dangerous to be one. There’s a bunch of shadows about being a woman in the collective unconscious, heal the part in you that agrees with that. With this New Moon in Aquarius, it’s time to be revolutionary and step into your feminine power. To be a woman is already revolutionary. Use frequency audios so you can connect with the Source. 

If you’re not a woman, this reading asks for you to connect with your feelings and be proud of it, be proud of your intuition. To ignore that is to disrespect an important aspect of being who you are. 

Pile 3

The Moon. End of the deck: Page of Coins.

Being closed off. Giving space so germination can happen. Something about stagnancy. While The Moon can represent a more abstract energy, the Page of Coins represents stability, matter and fruition. Something about you needing to have more information so something can be produced by that. The Moon also represents the unconscious mind; this part of our psyche does not use time like our Ego, time does not exist for it. It works in a different way, organic and pressure does not work with it. Something new is to be born from this state of “stagnancy”, respect that. Sometimes the only job you have to do is to just do nothing, your psyche is already working on that, there are many powerful forces acting upon you in this moment, do not doubt it. It’s hard to see right now, but the message is to trust. You’re in a moment of transition, at the other side of the bridge there’s a great reward, there’s victory. Maybe it’s some test's result that you’re waiting for? Or something that feels like it. There’s this feeling of being clueless about the results of a situation, the thing is that when your mind is in that state of cluelessness, you’re not supposed to engage with thoughts of fear, pray for the best, everything works out in your favor.

Thank you for reading!! :))

[lunamoonbby]

Cult!141 x Fem!Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT MDNI

⚠️Warnings⚠️: Dark Content, Manipulation, allusions to past abuse very brief not in depth, female reader, swearing, pregnancy, birth, poly relationships, smut, Cult AU, the use of lord in terms to worship, Price being referred to as Father

If you or a loved one is experiencing abuse, know that there is help, and please help anyone that you know to help them escape from that abuse.

⭐️Author's Note: The religion that the villagers follow is not defined, but it is NOT associated with Christianity, Judaism, Islam, or any other type of religion there is⭐️

CHAPTER 1: New Beginnings

Running, you couldn't stop running until you were sure that it was safe to stop. There was an opportunity for you to escape from your ex-boyfriend, and you took it, only taking with you whatever cash you had left, and to be honest, it wasn't that much, $100 can't do much in today's time but you'll figure it out, but it was better than nothing. So here you are running for what felt like days but had only been hours, it was rainy and cold, your soaking wet, the ground muddy and mud covering the ankles of your jeans, your shirt a bit torn a result from snagging on a couple of branches, and hair a mess with leaves sticking to your wet hair. You spot a distant light that looks to be 1-2 miles away. You decide to rest until you catch your breath, and then you'll start running again. After you caught your breath, you started running towards the light, and as the light got closer you saw that it was village and slowed to a walk.

As you approached the village, the inhabitants were giving you strange looks from shock to disgust, but you paid no mind, as you noticed a church, and you were only focused on heading to the church that was on top of the hill. As you reached the top of the hill, you noticed a large willow tree, and the church looked rundown but gave it that slight gothic touch. You walked towards the church and opened the door, "hello is anybody in here?" You walked in the church looking around. "Who goes there?" An unknown voice resonates through the inside of the church. "My name is y/n and I'm in need of assistance, I was hoping that the church would help me, I don't have much, I ran away from my abusive ex-boyfriend I just need a place to stay and then I'll leave to another village please I need your help" Price steps out and greets y/n, "hello y/n I'm Father Price, I'm the preacher of this village. I'm sorry to hear about your troubles, I know some people who are willing to help you. You are also in need of some clothing. I'll see what I can do with that. Now follow me. I'm sure you can use a meal, a warm shower, and a cozy bed."

You breathed a sigh of relief "thank you so much but before we go, I'd like to make a prayer, on how thankful I am that I found refuge and that I am now safe, if that's ok with you." Price smile at what y/n said, "a devoted follower. Of course, we can pray. Let's go to the altar so we can pray." Price leads y/n to the alter. When approaching the alter y/n sees a symbol there's a skull but the lower jaw is missing, and there's a sword with wings coming out of the sword, and on each side, there is a viny plant and to the back of it all there was a black spade, 'must be the religious symbol' y/n thought to herself. "Give me your hands so that our lord can hear your prayers better." Y/n held out her hands for Father Price to hold. Price then starts the prayer for y/n. After the prayer, Father Price asks, "Do you have any offerings for our lord?" Shocked y/n replies with defeat, "I only have $100, and I can't use it all. I need it to help me get back on my feet." Price gently cups y/n face with one hand and swipes his thumb left and right on y/n's lower lip, "my child you seem to be a very devoted follower of our lord, if you give him that offering, he will definitely bless you, your $100 would turn into $100,000 and you would definitely get back on your feet. My 2 friends they had nothing but $50 combined, and they offered their money, and now they both have their own tavern here in this very village."

Y/n contemplated it's the least she could do after all. Father Price did help her out in her time of need, "where can I put my offering?" She said while taking out her $100. "You can place it in the black obsidian bowl." She places her money in the bowl and says a thank you, "thank you, my child. I'm sure our Lord is thankful for that generous offer. Come let me take you to a nice spot that I know so we can get some food in you and a warm bed." Price then takes y/n's hand then leads her into the town and takes her to the tavern, when they both enter the tavern, the place goes quiet cause the people rarely see Father Price outside of the church and that he also has an outsider with him. "Well, well, well, who do you have there, Father Price?"

Taglist: let me know if you want to be added by commenting

@yourloverslost @tabbslouuformer @angelrissa

@freefallingup13

I hope you enjoyed it💖

[crssvjb]

Unforgettable Triumph - Jude Bellingham

Jude Bellingham x fem!reader

Summary: First Champions League.

The sun was already setting when Real Madrid entered the field illuminated by the vibrant lights of the Santiago Bernabéu Stadium. The stands shook with the screams of the fans and the atmosphere was electrically charged with expectation and hope. Among the thousands of faces in the crowd, four stood out especially to Jude Bellingham: your mother, Denise, your father, Mark, your brother Jobe, and you.

You found yourself there, holding hands with Jude's mother, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. The game against Borussia Dortmund was more than just a final; It was a historic moment for everyone. When the opening whistle sounded, the tension was almost palpable and every movement on the pitch was accompanied by collective gasps or fervent applause.

The minutes dragged by, the game unfolding like a mesmerizing dance of tactics and skill. Jude was at his best, running, passing, intercepting, his talent shining like never before. Every time he touched the ball, you felt a rush of pride and admiration, aware of how hard he had worked to get there.

When the clock finally struck 95 minutes, the 2-0 score in favor of Real Madrid seemed almost surreal. The final whistle sounded and the explosion of joy was instantaneous. The stadium seemed to vibrate with the screams and cheers of the fans, and you saw Jude raise his arms in a gesture of victory, the wide and bright smile on his face illuminated by the stadium lights.

He ran to his companions, hugging each one, sharing the individual and collective triumph. But you knew he was looking for something more, or rather, someone. His eyes quickly scanned the stands until they met yours.

- "They did it!" – Denise shouted at her side, hugging Mark and Jobe. You felt happy tears forming in your eyes as you watched Jude approach.

Jude nimbly climbed into the stands, ignoring the security barriers, until he was right in front of his family. He hugged first his mother, then his father, and then his brother. Finally, his eyes met yours and he stepped forward, enveloping you in a tight hug.

– "Congratulations, Jude!" – You whispered, your voice choked with emotion. – "You deserve this more than anyone. Your first Champions League!"

He smiled, his eyes shining with a mixture of joy and relief. Before you could say anything else, Jude leaned in and his lips met yours in a kiss that was soft but full of meaning and emotion. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you in that moment of pure happiness.

After the initial celebrations, the family was invited to join Jude in the field. You walked down the stands with Denise, Mark and Jobe, crossing the green lawn under the now dark sky, lit only by the stadium lights and the glow of victory. Jude was waiting for you next to the cup he just won, his smile showing no signs of fading.

– "Let's take a picture!" – He exclaimed, his voice still hoarse from shouting and celebrating.

Denise, Mark and Jobe positioned themselves around Jude as the photographer adjusted the camera. You watched, feeling filled with pride and love. After the family photo, Jude turned to you.

– "Now it's our turn." – He said, with his eyes fixed on yours. He took the champion's medal from around his neck and, with a solemn and affectionate gesture, placed it on himself.

– "Jude, this is yours, you deserve it." – You started, but he shook his head, interrupting you.

– "We deserve this." – he corrected. – "You were with me from the beginning, darling."

Holding the trophy you felt the physical and symbolic weight of that moment. Jude hugged you from the side, and you both smiled at the camera, the light from the flashes capturing an instant that would be immortalized not only in the photos, but also in your hearts.

As you walked away from the trophy, a journalist approached you, with a microphone in his hand and a curious smile.

– "Sorry to interrupt, but can I ask a quick question?" – He asked and you nodded.

– "Of course."

– "What are you feeling now? Having followed his career from a very early age because you've been together for so long, what are you feeling with his first Champions League victory?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the emotions bubble up inside you.

– "I'm extremely proud of him." – You began, with a firm voice, but full of emotion. You squeezed Jude's waist and he smiled at you. – “I saw how hard he worked, the sacrifices he made and how much he loves this sport. Seeing him fulfill this dream, winning the Champions League, is an indescribable feeling. I'm very, very happy for him."

The journalist smiled, thanking you and moving away so you could celebrate more. Jude pulled you closer, his hand squeezing yours. When night finally fell, the celebrations showed no signs of slowing down, you and Jude found yourself holding hands in the middle of the field, watching the last fans leave the stadium.

- "I love you." – He said softly, squeezing your hand.

– "I love you too, Jude. And I'm very proud of you." – You replied, knowing that this was just the beginning of many incredible moments that you would share together.

And so, with a heart full of joy and love, you knew that Judas's victory was also your victory. Not just for winning the Champions League, but for having shared every step of the journey with him.

⎊𝙘𝙧𝙨𝙨𝙫𝙟𝙗 - ²⁰²⁴

[sgiandubh]

From East...

It will soon be Christmas, for many of us. And for all of us who celebrate, this is about a renewed sense of Hope, Peace, Joy and, above all, Love. Every single one of them symbolizes the Advent candles we lit, all along this reflection and preparation time.

It's been a hell of a year, outside this particular bubble. So mixed up and fraught, that it wasn't always easy to keep the pace with this secret garden saga (itself mixed up to oblivion). But it is with a smile that I choose to welcome whatever is next in store for us.

It will soon be Christmas, and this very old Romanian carol immediately takes us to Bethlehem, where a very young woman is overwhelmed with worry for her newborn Child. She has nothing, we are being told, not even swaddling clothes. But the Star has already risen above the Manger, and so the humble Shepherds find her and tell her to stop crying: they will bring whatever they can to comfort this unusual Family. And so, this day's meaning is perhaps also about Kindness.

Be happy, be merry and be safe, dear friends, wherever you are. But above everything else, be kind. To yourself and to others. See you on the other side, a hot chocolate cup in hand, for even more hugs!

Because Christmas is about being together and here for each other, near and faraway alike. And about feeling this togetherness in our hearts: