#I didnt think the process for making this would go so smoothly. I am once again thanking darkness in movies | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

teacupfulofstarshine · 6 years ago

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but for just one day let’s only think about love

(a gift for my darling wife @notveryglittery!!! you mentioned wanting more fluff, and i have delivered! i hope you enjoy it, princess!)

summary: it's the eve of their big day, and roman and patton want everything to be perfect. luckily, they've got their best friends in the world helping make sure everything goes smoothly - and who could ask for better friends? (OR: an absurdly fluffy royality wedding fic written for my lovely wife dani!)

pairings: romantic royality, background romantic analogical

word count: ~5759

(cw: the briefest anxiety in the beginning, tooth-rotting fluff)

read it on ao3!

“Why did I let you talk me into wearing a white tuxedo?!”

Roman drapes himself over Logan’s couch, knocking his best friend’s newspaper out of his hands as he flops into his lap. Logan stares at him, unimpressed.

“I did not talk you into anything. On the contrary, I attempted to tell you that wearing a white tuxedo was a terrible idea.”

“Why didn’t I listen to you?!” “I have been asking myself that question since you met me. However, the reason you gave me for your current misstep was, and I quote.” Logan presses the back of his hand to his forehead and drapes himself against the back of the couch. “I have to wear a white tuxedo!” he gasps, imitating Roman’s voice and mannerisms to a truly creepy degree. “Only a white tuxedo will offset my perfect golden tan and make me appear to glow when the sunlight strikes me just so! And since Patton always calls me his sunbeam, it seems only fitting that I should be truly radiant for our wedding day! Though not as radiant as Patton of course - ah, my lovely fiancé! How have I gone more than six whole seconds without mentioning -”

“Alright, alright, I get it!” Roman grouses, shoving at Logan’s chest to make him stop. Logan sits up, adjusts his tie, and leans over Roman to get his newspaper off the ground. Rather than reading it, however, he folds it neatly.

“What is this really about, Roman?” “I’m regretting my fashion choices, Logan! Obviously, I -”

“Roman, be honest with me. It is not the suit which troubles you, is it?”

Roman sits up, clasping his hands together and leaning forward. He looks at Logan, dark chocolate eyes hidden behind his bangs. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“Not to the average eye, perhaps. But we have known each other since we were approximately fourteen months old, Roman. There is very little that you can hide from me.”

“Geez, Lo, don’t I have any secrets?” Roman jokes. Logan rests a hand on his knee.

“Of course you do, Roman. But your insecurities, your . . . your fears should not be something that you attempt to hide, from yourself or from me. Please do not misunderstand me - I am not attempting to pry into your life.”

Roman quirks a half-smile. “I know, Lo. I know you’re just worried.”

“Tell me, then. What is troubling you? You . . . you are not getting the proverbial ‘cold feet’ about your impending nuptials, are you?”

“No! No, no, I absolutely don’t regret accepting Pat’s proposal! I - I love him, Logan. I love him so much, he . . .” Roman twists his engagement ring around his finger. “Patton is the best and brightest thing in my life. He genuinely loves everyone and everything so much, and he’s so kind and - and -”

“I understand,” Logan says. “I did not think that was the case, but it was necessary to eliminate it from the realm of -”

“What if it’s fucked up?”

Logan blinks. “I . . . I do not understand. Could you please expand on that statement?”

“I love Patton so much, Logan. You don’t even understand, I - I could live without food, without water, without oxygen, without anything as long as I had Patton with me. He’s so important to me and - and I just - what if something goes wrong tomorrow? What if there’s a hurricane? What if Emile loses his voice? What if someone drops my suit in a vat of grape juice, what if Virgil’s shop catches on fire and Patton’s dress is destroyed, what if Virgil ends up in the hospital, what if Patton doesn’t want to marry me, what if he stands me up at the altar, what if -”

“Roman!” Logan says. He shifts his hand from Roman’s knee to holding Roman’s hands, which have begun to grip painfully at his hair. “You are engaging in cognitive distortions which are sending you into a spiralling panic attack. Look at me, Ro - it will be alright. I am going to count for you.”

Logan’s voice is quiet and measured, breaths even and steady as he counts. He looks at Roman, who does his best to maintain eye contact. “That’s it, Roman. Take deep breaths. We are optimizing your oxygen circulation in an attempt to engage your parasympathetic nervous system. The process of counting out your breaths will -”

“Thanks, nerd,” Roman rasps softly. Logan smiles, squeezing his hands.

“Of course, prep.”

“I’m not - it’s not that I don’t want to marry him, Logan. It’s the exact opposite - I want to marry him so much that I’m terrified by the prospect of the wedding being anything less than perfect.”

“Realistically, nothing can truly be perfect,” Logan says. “Much of what exists in this world is inherently flawed -”

“Thanks, Lo, that makes me feel worlds better.”

“I was not finished. Much of what exists in this world is inherently flawed, and therefore striving for perfection is unrealistic. However, this does not mean that we cannot strive for excellence. I may not be able to guarantee a perfect wedding, but I can guarantee that I will do everything in my power to make sure that it goes as smoothly as possible. You are my best friend, Roman, and I will be here to support you in every capacity that I can.”

Roman laughs, once, before lurching forward and throwing his arms around Logan’s neck. Logan, knowing Roman better than perhaps Roman himself, has already braced himself for impact, catching Roman and holding him. One hand slides up to scratch the curls at the nape of Roman’s neck while the other rubs Roman’s back in broad, firm strokes. These are the motions that have been proven to be the most soothing when Roman gets like this.

“Thank you, Lo,” Roman whispers, and his voice is so choked that if he were speaking to anyone other than Logan, he would be completely unintelligible. “This - I - you - you’re my best friend, you know that, right?”

“Yes, Roman,” Logan teases. “I had assumed that was why you asked me to be your best man.”

Roman makes an indignant squawking noise. “You are my best friend, too, you know.” He feels Roman nuzzle just a little into his neck.

“Love you, Lo.”

“I love you, too, Roman. If it will make you feel better . . . I have made an Excel spreadsheet to deal with potential outcomes.”

Roman pulls away from him, snorting in laughter. “Of course you did.”

“If you do not want it -”

Roman wipes his eyes, giggling. “Don’t be stupid, I know how many hours you must have poured into that. Let’s see it, then.”

Logan can’t help grinning as he picks up his laptop. “It’s color-coded.”

“Of course it is. I’d expect nothing less from you.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Patton, I swear to whatever deity exists out there in the great unending cosmos of the universe, if you stand up from that chair one more time, I am going to yeet my fucking pincushion under your ass.”

Patton, who’d been halfway out of his chair, promptly drops back down into it, giggling nervously. “Sorry, Virge, I just -”

“You’re nervous about this dress because it needs to go well. I know.” Virgil pokes their head out from behind the folding screen where they’re working on Patton’s wedding dress. “You do trust me to know what I’m doing, right?”

“Of course I do, Virgil! There’s a reason we’re partners in Fabricadabra!”

“I still regret letting you name it that.” Virgil ducks back behind the screen, muttering to themself. Patton can only see the vaguest shadowy outline of them moving around the mannequin on which his secret wedding dress rests.

“You’re just as good a seamster as I am, Virge, I trust you to work on all of our orders! It’s just that - that you’ve never hidden something you’ve made from me before.” Patton looks at the floor, wringing his fingers together. “I know you want it to be a surprise and all that, but I get married tomorrow!”

“I know, Pats. I’m not, like, working on the seams or anything! I’m just doing finishing touches! I don’t want you to see it before it’s completely done because I want you to have the experience, tm.”

“Did - did you just say the letters ‘TM’ out loud?” Patton giggles.

“Absolutely I did, it was for the fucking -”

“Language!”

“ - freaking emphasis. This dress is the most gorgeous thing I have ever created in my life. This dress has been labored over - SLAVED over - for months. This dress contains my blood! My sweat! My tears! My -”

“Virgil!”

“Sorry, Pat, but you get my point! This dress is the most important thing I’ve ever created. It’s my best friend’s wedding dress. I want it to be perfect when you see it for the first time. I want you to see it in all its glory - I want you to see it perfect.”

“Virge, honey, you know I’m gonna love it no matter what! It doesn’t have to be a Dior gown, it’s going to be special to me because you made it! My best friend, my partner in business and in crime, my best - human!”

Virgil pokes their head back out, arching a perfectly done eyebrow. “Did you just call me your best human?”

“Well, yeah! I didn’t wanna call you my best man, cause you’re not a man, I -”

“Bold of you to assume I’m human, Patton.”

Patton laughs. “Does ‘best enby’ work, then?”

“You are too much sometimes,” Virgil chuckles, shaking their head as they duck back behind the folding screen. “You can call me whatever your gay little heart desires as long as it’s not ‘maid of honor’, Pat. I’m really not that picky.”

Virgil falls silent for a few more minutes. Their shadow moves more rapidly around the mannequin, and they alternate between muttering to themself and humming to themself. Patton recognizes about half of the songs they’re humming, and tries to sing along where he can.

“Patton, I love you, but you are so far off key you might actually be in another one.” Patton rubs the back of his head in embarrassment, fiddling with the fraying lace hemming his skirt. “Shouldn’t be much longer, just finishing up a little bit on the sleeves and the neckline.”

“How much overtime did you pull to finish this, Virgil? Have you been sleeping properly? Eating enough? Drinking enough water?”

“I have consumed the life liquid, yes.”

“Virgil!”

Virgil’s head pokes out again. Patton squints, leaning forward to see how much makeup is covering the dark circles that normally reside beneath their eyes. “Pat, I’m not gonna lie to you. I’ve pulled a couple all-nighters. But I’ve done my best to avoid them, and I have timers set on my phone to make sure I eat and drink water on a regular basis. I’m practicing self-care.”

“I’m proud of you, kiddo,” Patton says softly.

“I know, Pat. I just hope you’re proud of my work, too.”

“Virgil, whatever this dress looks like, I promise it’s going to be wonderful. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you made it for me! And I know how hard you work and how detail-oriented you are and how super good at your job you are! I know you worry a lot about how good your stuff is, but I know it’s amazing!”

“Pat, stop, you’re gonna make me blush too hard for my foundation to cover.” “Why would you wanna cover up your blush, Virge?”

“I have an image to maintain! I am a cold and emotionless void!”

“You’re the cutest little gender-non-conforming void spawn I’ve ever seen!”

Virgil sticks their face out, cheeks and ears a bright rosy pink. “Patton, you are ruining my image right now.” Patton smiles unapologetically. “Come see your damn wedding dress already.”

“Language, kiddo, I - you’re serious?! It’s done, I can come see it now?!”

“Well, it’s as good as I’m gonna get it, so you might as well come look. Plus, I need you to try it on before the wedding to make sure you’re completely happy with it.” Patton almost trips over his own feet in his rush to get out of the chair as Virgil pushes the folding screen aside. All the air in Patton’s lungs leaves it in a single rush of breath.

“Well? You gotta tell me if you like it or not, Patty, I - Patton?” Patton’s eyes are brimming with tears, hands pressed over his mouth as he stares at the dress. The bodice is gold, with flowy, see-through sleeves of thin, delicate lace. There’s intricate needlepoint along the neckline and the waistline, with delicate floral embroidery on the bodice itself. The skirt is full and flowing, a gradation of blues. It’s so light it’s almost white at the waist, flowing into dark midnight blue at the hem, and the train is embroidered with stars and flowers. The layers of the skirt are varying colors of blue and white, and Patton is starstruck.

“You . . . th-this . . . Virgil, I . . . I . . .”

“Do you not like it? It’s too late to make, like, major changes, but I could theoretically change the - whoa!”

Patton throws himself at Virgil, sobbing openly and pressing soft kisses to their hair and cheek. “Oh, Virgil, it’s perfect!”

“You - r-really? You - you don’t think there’s anything wr-wrong with it?”

“The only thing wrong with it is that you think there’s something wrong with it! Virgil, it’s perfect, it’s everything I could ever want in a wedding dress! I couldn’t have done a better job if I’d designed it myself!”

“Yeah, there was no way in hell I was letting you design and make your own wedding dress, Pat. That would just be cruel.”

Patton hugs Virgil’s skinny little frame close to him, shaking with happy tears and soaking the sleeve of their hoodie. “Virgil, I could not have asked for a better wedding dress. Or a better wedding dress designer. I love it so much, I love you so much, I -”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I love you, too,” Virgil grumbles. They still kiss the top of his head before pushing Patton away. “Come on, Pats, you gotta try on this thing so I can make last minute alterations. With any luck, you’re only gonna get married once, so let’s go!”

*~*~*~*~*

“Where did you learn to tie a tie, the sandbox?”

Roman looks helplessly at Logan, red silk tie tangled around his hands and fingers. “That - Lo, what does that even mean?” Logan laughs, leaning against the doorframe. He’s already dressed in a tailored black suit, dark blue tie knotted snugly beneath his throat, hair neatly slicked back.

“It means that you are attempting to knot your tie with the skill and grace of a five year old in a sandbox. Was that not clear?”

“No, it wasn’t, Lo,” Roman grouses, standing up. Logan takes in his appearance - half-tucked-in shirt, unbuttoned vest, tie loosely slung around his shoulders. “But I appreciate it.”

“Roman, come here. Let me help you, alright? You’re going to look great.”

Roman tucks his shirt in and buttons his vest, letting Logan straighten and smooth his suit before taking the tie in his hands and beginning to tie it. “It still amuses me that you cannot tie one of these properly, Roman.”

“Hey! For all you know, I am the god of tie knots. I just pretend I don’t know what I’m doing so that you’ll keep tying them for me because I know how happy it makes you.” Logan smirks as he knots the tie, carefully adjusting Roman’s collar to make sure it lays flat over his tie.

“I would be inclined to believe you, but I know for a fact that you spent fifteen minutes prior to my arrival here standing in front of the mirror flailing that tie around pretending to be Amethyst.”

“Rude!” Roman screeches.

“Why? I am correct, am I not?”

“You’re right, but you shouldn’t say it!”

“On the contrary,” Logan says, “I am correct, and therefore I absolutely should say it.” He pulls his hands away from Roman’s neck, smoothing the lapels of his tuxedo jacket down neatly. “You may inspect my handiwork now, although I daresay you will find no fault with my knot. And even if you do, I can rest secure in the knowledge that it is infinitely better than anything you could manage.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re the most intelligent being that has ever lived, we get it,” Roman says breathlessly, staring at himself in the mirror. “I . . . th-this is really happening, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Roman. It really is. You are going to marry Patton today, and it is all going to be perfect.”

Roman’s hair is curled, falling neatly around his face in soft waves and ringlets that perfectly frame his eyes. Despite his penchant for dramatics, his makeup today is remarkably subtle. His eyelashes are darker and slightly curled, with minimal glitter on his eyes and cheeks. The boldest thing about his face is his bright red lipstick, perfectly matching his red silk tie.

“You look amazing,” Logan says. “I am proud to stand at your side as your best man.”

“Thanks, Lo,” Roman says, tipping his head back to knock gently against Logan’s shoulder. “But you can’t do that - not yet, anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re not wearing any makeup.”

“Roman. There is a lifetime ban on you putting any sort of products on my face. You know this. Need I bring up -”

“Lo, please? I promise I won’t do anything too dramatic, and it’s not that I think you look ugly without it I just think it would complete the look! Please, please let me do this? For my big day?”

He bats his definitely-mascara’d eyelashes, and Logan sighs. “I reserve the right to veto the look if I think it is too ‘out there’, Roman.”

“Oh, thank you thank you thank you! You won’t regret it, I promise!”

Twenty minutes later, Logan is blinking at his reflection in the mirror to clear the phosphenes from Roman furiously blotting foundation against his face. True to his word, Roman has not done anything too dramatic - Logan recognizes minimal contouring on his cheeks, shimmery silver eyeshadow, the barest trace of eyeliner. He looks . . . he looks good.

“Do you like it?” Roman worries. “I can take it off if it’s too much, I -”

“Roman, I - it is - satisfactory,” Logan cuts him off, trying not to sound choked up.

“Damn it, Lo! You’re gonna make me cry with all your compliments, and if my mascara runs I’ll kill you I swear to God.”

“With your penchant for crying at emotional situations, I’m impressed that you think you’re getting through this wedding without wearing waterproof mascara.”

*~*~*~*~*

“Patton, if you don’t stop moving I’m gonna take your eye out with the mascara wand!”

“It’s rude to threaten someone on their wedding day,” Patton giggles. “It’s not a threat!” Virgil snaps. “You’re so damn ticklish and fidgety that I’m gonna end up accidentally stabbing your eye out! And then Roman’s gonna kill me to defend your honor and Logan’s gonna help because he’s been Roman’s friend longer than he’s been my boyfriend and -”

“Virgil! Calm down!” Patton says. He gently takes their hands, careful not to let the mascara smudge on his gloves. “I’m sorry, I’ll sit stiller. More still? I’ll fidget less, I promise.”

“Do you not trust me to make you look good?” Virgil asks, in a small voice.

“Oh, sweetheart, of course I do! Just look at you!” Patton gestures to the beauty-guru level makeup on Virgil’s face, from their silvery-purple-black eyeshadow to their dark purple lipstick to the way their cheekbones shine just a little more than the rest of their face. “You’re the best makeup person I know! But don’t tell Ro I said that, okay?”

“Don’t worry, Pat, I know better than to injure Princey’s precious ego. The last time I did that he pouted around for a whole week until I apologized. Not that I meant it - I was right the first time.”

“Hey, be nice,” Patton warns. Virgil shrugs, quirking a smile.

“Sorry, Pat. I know how much Princey means to you. If it makes you feel better, I don’t hate him like I did when we first met. Him not being a dick about my pronouns helped.”

“I told you he wouldn’t have a problem.”

“I know you did, Pat. Now hold still. Emile’s gonna be here to pick us up at any minute, and you need to be ready.”

Patton lets go of Virgil’s hands and obeys, letting them work their magic on his face. He doesn’t see the point in wearing excessive makeup every day the way Virgil does; he likes having his freckles on full display, and he doesn’t mind showing the occasional acne scar or blemish. But Roman had mentioned wearing makeup on their wedding day, and he hadn’t said that Patton had to but he thinks he would feel weird if Roman had makeup on and he didn’t.

Plus, Virgil really likes doing makeup, and they’ve apparently been planning what they’d do for his wedding for years now. Patton would hate to let all that work go to waste.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be done soon,” Virgil says, gently dabbing at Patton’s face. “If Emile gets here before I’m done, he can just wait.”

“I don’t want to make him wait too long!” Patton argues. “He’s doing us a huge favor by agreeing to officiate the wedding!”

“Please, Pat, you didn’t even have to pay Emi. He just loves weddings. He’s a loser like that.”

“Don’t you like them too, Virge?”

“I will admit that over my dead body, and I am denying any candor in your statements,” Virgil says, smooth and practiced. “Now blink onto my finger, I’m almost done.”

Emile shows up right as Virgil is preparing to put Patton’s lip gloss on. “Virgie! How’s my favorite twin?”

“I am your only twin, Emile, and I hate that nickname,” they grouse.

“Oh, look at you! You look so pretty!” Emile coos. Patton is inclined to agree; Virgil is wearing a silver button-down with a black vest, and a tie the same rich purple as their flowing knee-length skirt. Tall black boots lace up to just beneath their knees, and they have flowers matching the ones in Patton’s bouquet woven into their French-braided hair.

“Thanks, Emi. You look . . . adequate.”

“Oh, Virgil! That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me!” Emile squeals, twirling around to show off the flaring of their pleated pink dress. “You’re doing such a good job with Patton’s face! Did you paint his nails, too?”

“Well, someone had to do it,” Virgil grouses, but based on their tone Patton knows that they’re pleased with their twin’s praises, smiling shyly as they focus on carefully applying his lipgloss. “Pat, smack your lips together, and then you’re just about ready to look in the mirror.”

Patton does as he’s told, looking down at his feet. His toenails are painted a bright, cheerful yellow, and he wiggles his toes where they poke out of his sandals. Virgil’s intricate wedding dress fits him perfectly, and beneath his gloves his fingernails are painted sky blue with swirling red-and-gold designs. Finally, he looks up into the mirror propped on the nearby table and sees Virgil’s makeup.

“Oh, Virgil,” he whispers, putting his glasses on and seeing his face in sharp, striking clarity. “I don’t care what you said about the dress, I’m paying you extra for this.”

“Pat, you don’t have to -”

“It’s happening, Virgil, whether you like it or not,” Patton sniffles, and then he’s hugging Virgil tightly.

“Hey - careful, Pat, your makeup hasn’t set yet! And you’re gonna wrinkle our clothes, and -”

“Shut up and take my love, Virgil.”

“Y-yeah, okay . . .”

It takes Emile another seven minutes to shepherd them out the door and into the car, but Patton catches the secret proud smile gleaming on Virgil’s face as they help him get his train into the car.

*~*~*~*~*

The church where they’re getting married is small. The wooden beams bracing the ceiling arc like the beams in the hull of a ship; when they’d first inspected the venue, Logan had gone on some sort of tangent about the historical and symbolic significance of the beams. Roman hadn’t bothered listening, too busy whispering and giggling with Patton and looking at all of the mosaics and stained glass and gilded paintings.

Now, standing at the altar, Emile at his side and Logan at his back, he tilts his head up, up, up to look at the ceiling. Dimly, he remembers Logan’s voice saying, “It is meant to represent the hull of the ark, the ship that supposedly carried two of every animal to safety during the Great Flood of the Christian mythos. The thought in designing the church to mimic this boat is that it will carry the members of its congregation safely to heaven.”

Privately, Roman hopes that this marriage will carry his and Patton’s relationship through the rest of their lives. He knows the divorce rate in America, he knows how likely it is that the average marriage won’t work out. But he refuses to let himself go down that road. He loves Patton, and Patton loves him. They’ve discussed their future a million and one times - he knows how committed he is to making this work. This is going to be the start of the rest of their lives.

His cousin Thomas is up in the choir loft, gently cracking his fingers and running them lightly over the gleaming keys of the organ. Roman can see Virgil waiting in the first pew, gazes out across the sea of faces belonging to his and Patton’s friends and families. Thomas looks down at him from the choir loft and cocks his head to the side, asking if it’s time. Roman looks down the aisle and sees two silhouettes waiting behind the opaque glass doors, glances up to Thomas, and nods. Thomas begins to play, letting a few instrumental bars pass by before he starts singing, voice rich and strong.

The door opens, and Roman loses all the breath in his lungs in one swift, silent rush.

Patton walks down the aisle slowly, timing his footfalls perfectly with the beats of the song. There’s a shimmery veil over his face, held in place by a glimmering silver tiara with sparkling gemstone flowers. Roman hasn’t even seen his face yet, and already he knows Patton is gorgeous.

The dress is stunning; he can see Virgil beaming, and he makes a mental note to slip a hundred dollars into their pocket before the night is over. He knows exactly how hard they’ve been working on this secret project, and how long they’ve been working on it, too. He’s seen Virgil’s handiwork, of course, wears their neat, precise stitches in a lot of his clothing. But that’s mostly minor tweaks - hemming pants here, fixing a torn sleeve there. This is the first time he’s seen one of Virgil’s original creations.

If this dress doesn’t get them catapulted to center stage of New York fashion week, Roman is going to sue the entire fashion industry.

The top is all delicate lace and intricate embroidery, clever flower patterns and flowy sleeves. But it’s the lower half that’s drawing gasps and exclamations from the wedding guests. There’s a pure white ribbon wrapped around Patton’s waist, tied neatly in a bow behind him. The skirt starts off pure white, but as it descends it becomes pale blue, growing deeper and darker and fuller and richer as it heads toward the floor. The train is a midnight blue, so dark it’s almost black, with shimmering stars and flowers sewn in. It’s only because Roman knows Patton asked for one that he knows what he’s looking for, but he finds it quickly - the train is detachable. Patton hadn’t wanted to change into a separate outfit for the reception, but he couldn’t very well dance with a full train behind him.

Virgil really is the cleverest designer that Roman’s ever met.

Patton reaches the altar right as the song crescendos to its climax, and Virgil carefully slips up to stand behind him. His beloved’s face is obscured by the veil, but Roman can tell that Patton’s wearing makeup. Virgil probably did that, too.

Roman owes them so much money.

“Dearly beloved,” Emile starts, practically bouncing in place, “do you how do?” His characteristic greeting draws confused murmurs and whispers from the gathered crowd. Roman can hear Virgil’s palm smack against their face without even looking at them.

The ceremony flies by like lightning, but it feels like forever until Emile is stepping back and they’re putting the rings on each other’s hands, saying their vows. Roman pulls Patton’s glove off, smiling softly to himself when he sees the designs on his nails. He takes the ring Logan offers him and carefully slides it onto Patton’s ring finger.

“Patton,” he says. “I - I wrote this whole big speech, and I even had Logan proofread it for me to make sure it was grammatically correct, but . . . but standing here now, looking you in the eyes - well, as best as I can, anyway -” Patton laughs softly, and some of Roman’s nerves dissipate.

“I agonized over the right way to do these vows for so long, and now that we’re here, now that we’re doing this I - I don’t think it matters as much. I’ll let you read the sappy speech later, but - but right now, all that matters is that we’re here, that we’re together. I love you, Patton, and I don’t care who knows it, but I also really want everyone here to know it.”

More laughter, from everyone else this time. “You are the sun in my sky, the light of my life, the reason I want to keep being the best version of myself. I don’t know if I believe in the concept of people who are fated to be together, but if I did, I know for a fact that I would be fated to be with you. And even if I wasn’t, I would choose to be with you. I - I would always choose you.”

Patton squeezes his hand, and then he’s taking a ring from Virgil’s hands and carefully sliding it onto Roman’s finger. “Roman, my sunbeam, the day that I met you used to be the best day of my life. Whenever I was feeling sad or alone, I would think back to that day and I would remember that you were out there, somewhere, even if you weren’t with me at that exact second. And I would think about the light in your eyes when you look at me, and the way you smile right before you kiss me, and the way you take those few extra seconds to make sure our fingers are perfectly laced together. Those memories always made me feel warm and happy, like I was standing in the summer sunshine. But that’s not the best day of my life anymore.”

Roman blinks in confusion, but Patton keeps talking. “The best day of my life will always be this day, when I look you in the eyes. And I’ll choose you, and you’ll choose me, and we’ll keep choosing each other for the rest of our lives. Sorry I kinda stole the last bit of your vows, honey, but what can I say? You’ve always been the creative one between us.”

There are mixed smatterings of laughter echoing in Roman’s ears, but all he can focus on is the fire in his cheeks and ears and the water in his eyes. “Pat, my makeup is gonna run,” he whispers.

“Logan didn’t make you wear waterproof mascara?” Patton asks, but Roman can tell he’s smirking beneath the veil. “Virgil made me.”

“I told him to,” Logan whispers. Roman considers kicking him, but he gets distracted by Emile’s voice. The ceremony continues on, with Roman and Patton holding each other’s hands tightly. Roman tilts their hands slightly, marvelling at the way the multicolored sunlight streaming through the stained glass glints off their wedding bands.

“You may lift the veil now,” Emile says gently. Roman squeezes Patton’s hands once before letting go and tenderly taking the lacy edges of the veil. He rubs the soft material between his thumb and index finger before carefully lifting the veil and flipping it over Patton’s head to reveal his face.

If he still had breath in his lungs, Patton’s face would steal it from him. His cheeks are glowing and rosy, and his eyes are perfectly framed with dark lashes and subtle eyeliner that brings out his irises. He has golden-red eyeshadow artfully painted on his upper lids, and his lips are a beautiful soft shiny pink. His mouth is slightly open, and Roman just wants to lean in and press kisses against it over and over and over again.

“By the power vested in me by the state of Pennsylvania, I now declare you husband and husband! You may now kiss the groom!”

Roman gently cups Patton’s face, careful not to smudge or smear Virgil’s beautiful makeup job. He gently swipes his thumbs over Patton’s cheeks, right beneath eyes that shimmer with tears. “Hello, husband,” he murmurs, leaning down to brush their noses together. Patton pushes himself up on his tip-toes and presses their mouths together, cupping Roman’s face in return. On one cheek, he feels the softness of Patton’s glove, and on the other he feels the cool metal of Patton’s wedding ring.

His arms slide down to wrap around Patton’s waist and brace his back as he dips him, keeping their lips pressed together as wedding bells begin to ring and the congregation erupts into thunderous applause. He’s kissed Patton a hundred, a thousand, a million times, but this is the first time he’s kissed his husband, and the searing fire in his lips and butterflies in his stomach are fresh as the very first time he’d ever kissed Patton.

Somehow, he prefers this kiss to the time Logan had slapped him a high-five while they kissed.

(Later, at the wedding reception, Patton turns his back to the crowd and throws his bouquet of flowers. When he and Roman turn around, Virgil is holding the bouquet, and Logan is fidgeting awkwardly.

“Would now be an inopportune time to propose?” he asks.

“YES, because this is MY WEDDING DAY!” Roman screeches, even as Virgil shakes their head and furiously pulls Logan in for a kiss.)

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#starshinewrites #royality #analogical #nonbinary virgil #notveryglittery #wife squad!#platonic moxiety #platonic logince #wedding fluff

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pretendcnco · 5 years ago

Text

unexpected - christopher veléz (part 5)

At the club, Valentina sat at the table, drink in hand, trying to relax. She watched as people moved on the dance floor, the way couples swayed together and friends twirl eachother around. She tries to enjoy her time there, but it is quickly turned sour as she notices Chris at the bar, extremely close to some girl. Valentina watches as he smoothly leans in and meets their lips together, his hands gripping her waist as hers mingle in his hair. The sight made her angry. But even more than that, sad. Chris would never feel for her what she felt for him, and she was angry at herself for ruining the simple relationship they had by catching feelings. She bites down on her straw, evidently upset by the view in front of her.

Joel seemed to have followed her gaze to where Chris was almost eating this girl alive. He leans in close to Val.

“Hey, you wanna get out of here?” She turns to him.

“You’re tired?” She asks. She notices his small glance towards Chris’s direction and could tell that he knew that it bothered her. Although she was good friends with the entire band, Joel was probably the one she was closest with.

“Yeah, clubbing constantly gets a little boring doesn’t it?” She shakes her head, she didn’t want to ruin his night with her stupid feelings.

“It’s fine, Joel. We don’t have to go.”

“Nah, come on. Really, I am a little bored.”

“You sure?” She questions. He spares one final glance in Chris’s direction and nods.

“Yeah, lets go.” He says as he slides out of the booth. He extends his hand to help her out and the two walk out of the club. Joel calls an Uber and after a couple minutes they were on your way back to the hotel. Joel asks the Uber driver to stop at a convenience store real quick. He jogs into the store and returns with a bag moments later. She wasn’t too worried with what he bought, just eager to get back to the hotel. When she arrives back to her room, she quickly heads to the bathroom to wash off her makeup and change into her pajamas. When she leaves the bathroom, she sees Joel sat on her bed, her laptop open in front of him, junk food scattered around him, and two cartons of vanilla ice cream in his hands.

“Movie and Ice-Cream?” He asks. She smiles, he knew exactly how to make her feel better. She sits next to him and grabs the carton of ice-cream he hands her. She picks the movie and presses play. After a moment, Joel speaks up.

“You love him don’t you?”

“Leonardo DiCaprio? Hell yeah.” She says with a laugh, as she continues watching the film.

“No. Chris.” He says, turning to look at her.

“Joel-” she begins to say, her hand tightening around the spoon she was holding.

“Valentina you can talk to me.” He states.

“I don’t want to talk about this, Joel.” She murmurs, continuing to watch the movie. He reaches out to pause the movie.

“You have to. You can’t keep this bottled up inside. I can see that it’s hurting you.”

She keeps quiet.

“At least answer the question. Do you love him?” She looks at him.

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think he loves you?” He asks. Valentina nervously grabs onto the duvet cover.

“Of course he doesn’t. He only sees me as two things, one of the Bros, or his fuckbuddy. Nothing else.” She mutters. She definitely did not want to be having this conversation. Joel looks away, his mind seemed preoccupied.

“You need to talk to him.” He tells her. Val sighed, he didn’t understand that it was easier said than done.

“No, that’ll just finish ruining everything.” She says. Joel shakes his head, he looked insistent.

“You don’t know that.”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” She says, feeling the tears forming. Joel notices this and drapes an arm around her shoulders.

“Okay.” He says softly, hugging her and pressing play on the movie. They watch the rest in silence as Valentina quietly sobs, and Joel rubs her shoulder reassuringly.

When the movie ends Joel looks over to see Valentina fast asleep. He carefully removes his arm from around her and lays her down comfortably on her bed. He closes the computer and throws away all the trash from the junk food. He tucks Valentina in and heads to leave. As he shuts her door, a voice is behind him.

“Joel?” It was Christopher. Zabdiel, Richard, and Erick trailing behind him. Joel turns and he knew how this looked. “Que haces? Where is Valentina?” Joel raises his hands up in surrender.

“She’s inside, she’s asleep.”

“Why were-” Joel doesn’t let him finish.

“We just watched a movie, alright. She was upset.”

“Why?” Christopher asks. Joel looked up to the sky, how oblivious could this boy be?

“Talk to her.” Was all he says. As Christopher moves to her door, Joel stops him.

“Not now, idiota. She’s asleep.” Richard calls out. Chris nods.

“Right. Yeah.” They all knew what he was feeling. They all knew what she was feeling. It seemed like the only people who didn’t know anything were Valentina and Christopher themselves.

The next morning Valentina wakes up and lays in bed for a while, Joel’s words replaying in her head.

You don’t know that.

She didn’t know anything at this point. She sighs and rubs the sleep out of her eyes. She rolls over to grab her phone. The message that caught her eye was one from Chris.

chris: i need to talk to you

Her heart stops. It was a simple message, but full of so many possibilities. It was from hours ago, presumably when they got back from the club. Valentina swallows hard, she texts back ‘okay’ knowing he wasn’t awake yet so she had some time to mentally prepare herself. She knew it was time to talk.

Instantly she gets a response. She eyed the message warily, Christopher was never up this early, especially not after going clubbing. She nervously bit the inside of her mouth, rereading the message.

chris: i’ll be at your room in 10 min

“Fuck.” She mutters, rubbing her forehead. She quickly freshens herself up, and changes out of her pajamas. She sits on her bed, her leg nervously bouncing up and down. Then she hears the knock at her door. She takes a deep breathe before walking to it. She hesitates before opening it and when she does she sees Chris on the other side, his eyes looked tired.

“Hi.” Was all she said.

“Hi.” He says back. It was awkward as fuck. “May I?” He asks, looking into her room.

“Yeah, yeah.” She says, moving to let him in. She watches his back as he faces away from her, looking out window. “What did you need to talk about?” She tries to act like nothing was wrong, but they both knew that wasn’t true.

“I just-“ He finally turns to look at her. “I just want to know what’s going, Tina. You’ve been acting weird lately.” She nods and quietly clears her throat, preparing herself for what she was about to say.

“I know. And I’m sorry I haven’t told you why-“

“Why haven’t you told me? I don’t know, I just.... I thought we could trust eachother. Like, we’ve talked to eachother about some deep shit before, why not now?”

“It’s different.” She states.

“How?” She could see the confusion in his eyes. She hated seeing him like that. She stares him dead in the eyes, tears slowing filling her own.

“Because I love you.” His eyes widen. “I’m in love you with, Christopher.” He doesn’t speak, and she feels a tear fall down her cheek. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same, I just needed you to know that, okay?” His gaze had moved to the floor but at this his eyes snap back to hers.

“Valentina-“ he begins.

“You don’t need to say anything.” The tears were streaming down her face at this point. She knew he didn’t feel the same, it was obvious by his speechless response. “I think I always have been a little in love with you, but now is when I finally realized it. And I’m sorry I just sprang this on you and that you don’t feel the same and that this will change everything-“

“Valentina!” This stops her. His eyes were soft as he steps forward to lay a hand on her face, wiping her tears away. She closes her eyes, feeling his touch caused for even more tears to slide down her face. “I love you, too.” He says quietly. This causes her to open her eyes, she’s immediately met with his beautiful brown eyes staring into hers. They were sincere, full of emotion. She couldn’t believe this.

“What?” Was all she could say, and it came out as a little more than a whisper.

“I love you.” Her eyes widen just like his had earlier. He takes a step away from her as she processes this.

She was still stunned. “Why- Why didnt you tell me?” She says, her voice rising a little, but her mouth felt dry, her stomach felt hollow. He turns to her, his eyes sad.

“Because I didn’t think I was enough for you.” He says, his voice sad, honest. “You’re so beautiful, and talented, and intelligent. And I’m just-I’m just me.” Valentina stays quiet, unsure of what to say, too many things happening at once. During the silence, Chris moves to sit on her bed. He places his head in his hands. “I tried to keep distant, to not catch feelings. But- But, it’s you. No pude evitar enamorarme de ti. ” She slowly walks towards him until she’s standing in front of him. “But i knew you deserved someone better. Someone more mature, someone more like you.” She kneels down in front of him so that they’re eyes were level. She places a hand on his face and guides it to meet her gaze.

“But I don’t want anyone except you.” She tells him. Their eyes meet, the conection unwavering. He quickly pulls her into a hug, holding her tight as tears fall from both their eyes.

After a moment in each others embrace, Christopher slowly pulls away. He places a gentle hand on her face and glances down at her lips, a smile on his face.

“Te amo.” He whispered, testing out the words. She couldn’t stop her own smile then.

“Te amo.” She whispers back. He looks her in the eyes for a moment and she could almost melt knowing that the look he was giving, was for her, and her only. He slowly leans in and places his lips on hers. It felt like the kiss from their ‘date’ all those nights ago. It felt less rushed, full of love, gentle. A kiss that made her forget everything around her. She loved Christopher Veléz, and he loved her. That was all that mattered.

—

the end :) i hope you guys enjoy!!

#unexpected #cnco #christopher velez #cnco chris #cnco christopher #cnco fanfic #cnco imagine

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loki-laufeyson-writes · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 7 unedited. TGaD

After 45 minutes of pure music and water relaxation, I step from the tub while it drains and wrap my baby blue towel around me. I open the door and see a man sitting on my bed, staring my direction. Panicking, I slam the door shut without seeing who it was. I dress while speaking to Tony's program.

"FRIDAY! I thought I said no visitors!!" I scold her.

" I couldn't stop him Miss. Wanez. " FRIDAY responds. I exit the bathroom wearing the emerald bra and black shorts. Once I see the man, I recognize him. Loki. Shit. Loki watches me for the second time, looking my frame up and down.

"You weren't lying when you said you sleep in that." He whispers and makes the contact before realizing what he said and averting his gaze. His cheeks become red the more the silence rolls on.

"Sorry. I didnt.... Silent realize you going occupied." He apologized without looking at me, and I sigh softly.

"No. I wasn't lying, clearly. Yes, I was occupied. That's why I asked for no visitors. Hey, I'm covered." I walk to him and sit on the bed. Loki looks at me slowly.

" How long have you been here? " My gaze slips to his lips for a second before going back to his eyes.

"A few minutes. I waited for you." Loki speaks quietly, completely different from his normal character.

"For what?" Why would you wait, when you could hear my music playing?

"The sunset. You didn't come to the roof like every night before. Until tonight that is." Loki stares into my eye. I think for a few seconds, my emotions for him spiking at his words. He waited.

"I'm so sorry. I saw it from here, I had a few things on my mind. Loki?" I speak his name as his gaze tries to look out my small window. Loki slowly connects with my green hazel eyes.

"What is it, Nikole?" His voice comes out smoothly and gently.

"Steve invited me to my first mission tomorrow." I watch Loki for his reaction. He smiled slowly, and when he speaks, his voice is lighthearted with joking.

"Guess he took your words to heart." I laugh softly, forgetting that I never said that to Steve in front of Loki.

"Of course he did. Why wouldn't you?" I joke back.

"Well. Due to the fact that you to be up early tomorrow, I should leave so you can rest." Loki stands to leave.

" Wait! Please. Can you stay? To make sure... The nightmares, Loki... " He looks as though he's thinking about my words. I wait silently. Please stay. Don't leave me. Please....

After a few long seconds, Loki cups my cheek, a little unsure if he should.

"Let me get dressed." I smile softly, and Loki walks into my bathroom. Once he shuts the door, I pull the covers back and slide under them, my eyes already becoming heavy.

Loki comes out from the bathroom wearing silk, emerald pants. I blush lightly as I realize that we are matching and his pants hung a little loose on his hips. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks at me, still a little unsure.

"How'd you get dressed without having any PJ's down here?" I question as he pulls the blankets back and slides in next to me.

"Magic." Loki chuckles softly, and I pull myself in next to him. My head rests on his chest and my left arm drapes over his chest and my left arm drapes over his stomach.

"Thank you, Loki." I whisper and shut the lights off after allowing myself to create a small but if telekinesis.

"Anytime." He whispers. Loki starts to him to a song I'm not familiar with; my body relaxing completely before I slip into sleep.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Eric was standing right there. Or, he was when my eyes were closed.

When I open them, the trees were beaten and dead as the winter bore on.

The slight squeaking of a wheelchair approaches from behind me. Xavier probably has a new mission.

"Nikole. You haven't been the same since we lost Eric two months ago. We're worried about your health, so I took the liberty of calling Nick Fury. He currently had a place being prepared for your arrival. You can't mourn Eric forever. Maybe the Avengers can help you in a way I never could." I never turned around, never responded to Xavier, just accepted the fact that my family didn't need me anymore. Didn't want me.

I'm officially being pushed out of the Mansion.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

I wake up shaking softly and on the verge of hyperventilating. I had rolled over at some point in my sleep, and Loki must have followed as a constant warmth radiates on my back and around my waist. He snores softly into my ear and his right leg is pulled over my two. My breathing stays rapid and I find his hand on my stomach. I trace the words I love you over and over, in attempt to help myself without waking Loki.

After a few minutes, my breathing slows and the writing continues. I stop suddenly, realizing Loki's snores had stopped, but our position hasn't changed. I feel his chest rising and falling at a steady awake pace.

"How long have you been awake?" I whisper.

"Enough to feel you trace the same thing twice. How about yourself?" He asks gently and pushes his nose into my now dry hair, breathing in the tropical fruit scent.

"A few minutes. Just had a small relapse back to my last week at Xavier's, feeling as useless as shit." I suddenly want to pull my words back.

"Why was that?" I shake my head.

"Nikole, you can trust me." I smile softly, remembering what he is the god of.

"Me? I can trust the God of lies and mischief." I speak a little lighthearted. Loki pulls his head back from my hair. From Nick offense or not, I couldn't tell.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I trust you with my life. I felt useless because I lost my partner to death and mourned for two months." I speak quickly and sigh at the end. Loki stiffen next to me, and despite wanting to stay in our comfortable position, I roll over to face him. He looks at me, shock filling his gaze.

"What? You've seen death before." I watch him.

"But I've never had anyone, other than my brother, say that they trust me." I smile at him.

"Well, why wouldn't I? I'm with you everyday." A burst of courage shoots through me, and I gently cup his cheek. Look I tenses, making me think about my action, before leaning into the touch and closing his eyes. His breathing slows a bit and a smile forms on his lips.

"Why wouldn't you?" He whispers my words. I chuckle softly. Loki opens his eyes and looks into my green hazel. Slowly, almost agonizingly, he lifts his hand and returns my gesture.

"Thank you, Nikole." He smiles at me.

"For what? I didn't do anything." I watch his brain process the question, many answers clearly conflicting within him the longer the silence stretches out. After many seconds, Loki speaks.

"For trusting me." I smile again and return my hand to myself.

"Anytime, for my best friend." My eyelids get heavy again, and Loki kisses my forehead.

"Go to sleep, Nikole. You've got a big day ahead of you." I nod slowly as he starts to him the song from before. My eyes close, and I fall asleep again.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Eric grabbed my hand.

"Nikole. Stay. Here. I can't worry about you during this job." He spoke firmly.

"Eric-"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

I woke quickly, suddenly feeling cold. I roll over and don't see Loki.

"Loki?" My voice echoes around my room. I shake my head to clear it if the sleeper's fog; once it clears a bit more, I hear a low baritone voice singing softly and my shower running. His voice is beautiful, hitting each note smoothly.

"What would I do without your smart mouth? Drawing me in and you kicking me out." I smile softly at his song choice. All of Me, John Legend.

"Got my head spinning, no kidding. I can't pin you down. What's going on in that beautiful mind? I'm on your magical mystery ride." I keep smiling before I catch the green glow of my alarm clock. 6:46. Loki still singing in the background.

"And I'm so dizzy, don't know what hit me, but I'll be alright. My head's underwater, but I'm breathing fine. You're crazy and I'm out of my mind." I shift in the bed a little and pull the blanket off of me.

"Cause all of me loves all of you. Loves your curves and all your edges. All your perfect imperfections." A wave of curiosity rolls through me as his voice changes a bit in pitch, as though he's thinking of something, making it genuine. I told my head to the side as Loki finishes the song.

Once it's done, I hear the shower turn off. I sit on my bed to wait for him like he did the previous night.

Loki comes out a few minutes later to see me sitting cross-legged on my bed. I smile at him, the towel hugging tightly against his hips. My gaze adverts quickly as soon as I realize that I am staring.

"Sorry." My cheeks color lightly.

"Its alright, kitten. Like what you saw?" Loki asks and walks across the room to sit next to me. I nod slowly, slightly confused about the nickname.

"I love your singing voice, Loki." I look back into his startling green eyes. He smiles softly.

"So, why are you awake so early?" I ask him gently.

" I couldn't sleep. " His face creeps closer to mine.

"Do you need to freshen up before Steve comes and gets you?" He comes closer and his right hand slides over my right. Is he...? His gaze flickers down a little, causing me to pick them bite my lips. Loki bites his gently and makes a soft humming noise before looking back into my eyes.

"No. I'll freshen after it..." I whisper softly. A slow smile crosses his lips and he brings his left hand to the back of my neck. My heart rate rises as his gaze flickers down again. Loki leans in again and presses his thin and cool lips against mine. He closes his eyes and I follow shortly after.

Loki moves his lips against my pair, kissing me multiple times. I respond and kiss him, moving my lips on sync with his. My right hand finds its way into his wet raven hair. My left stays under his. Loki's grip on my neck tightens a little. His lips vanish as he pulls back to breathe, his eyes still closed. I breathe slightly heavily through my lips, the sensation of his lips against mine staying with me like a ghost. I watch as his eyes slowly flutter open.

A smile crawls onto Loki's face.

"Meet me tonight for the sunset?" He asks slowly, and a little breathless, as though staying in the moment. I nod.

"This won't change our friendship, will it?" Loki whispers.

"Only if you want it to." I release his hair and cup his cheek. He seemed to like the answer as he smiles before leaning against my hand. I smile back before it fades once I think on the upcoming mission.

"Nikole? What's wrong?" He traces my jaw, pausing at my lips.

" I'm just nervous for the mission. " My gaze flickers to Loki's lips before returning to his eyes. His thumb runs along my bottom lip, barely touching the skin. I close my eyes as an involuntary shiver runs through me.

"What can I do to help rid you of them?" Loki's voice becomes gentle and soft; I open my eyes again to see him staring at my lips.

"Come with me on the mission." I smile softly knowing Steve would never allow it.

"I can't do that, kitten." I blush lightly at the nickname.

"Meet me when I get back?" Loki leans in again.

" That I can do. " I lean forward and connect my lips to his. Loki responds quickly, placing both of his hands on the side I my neck to pull me closer. Both sets of our eyes close simultaneously. His lips occasionally part against mine as he kisses me more and a touch deeper than the first one. Loki pulls back, both of us panting lightly as we look at each other.

"I hope this changes our friendship." He whispers and rubs the side of my neck.

"Me too, Loki." I gently pull his left hand off my neck so I can hold it again. Loki smiles at my response and laces his fingers in mine.

I look at the clock; it now reading 7:03. Loki looks with me.

"Nikole, you need to dress. Steve will be on his way in a few minutes or so." Loki turns my head back to him. I nod slowly.

"You should as well." My eyes trace his torso to the towel tightly hugging his waist; Loki mimicking the action over me. I stand slowly once we make eye contact, our hands still twine together. My mouth cracks into a grin, and I grab my clothes to change in my bathroom.

After a few minutes, I walk out of the bathroom wearing my black skin tight outfit for missions. I don't notice Steve as I walk towards my nightstand to grab my emerald gloves Tony bought me on my first day here. Loki clears his throat and I turn around to see Steve staring at me.

"Nikole. What the hell did I wall into? What am I seeing." I release a deep breath.

"Oh shit. It's not... We're not... I have nightmares, Steve. And I went to someone for help. Someone who wouldn't tell the whole team." I speak slowly.

"You could have always come to me." I walk towards him, my muscles moving clearly in my leather suit.

" I never felt like it. Steve, you're the Captain, the leader of this team. But Loki... He's... He's different. He made it a point in my first day to become my friend. And we have been everyday since. Bucky and Natasha trains me. They're a little close. Tony and Banner teach me a little, they're mainly in their work. Tony listens when he's around. All you do is yell and lecture me. " I stare at Steve as he processes the information, clearly having some difficulties.

"We're leaving in ten." He whispers and leaves my room.

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mybodyliberation · 5 years ago

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Mooncup Review Part 1

There are some people who are not impacted by their periods. They are able to go about their business being their wonderful selves.

I am not one of those people. A multitude of things happens when I am due on. One of these things being the "Grumps" and phew child, do I get them bad.

I'm not a natural frowner or grimacer, (yes these aren't words but they are for the purpose of today), so when I catch myself grumbling over something sometimes rational, mostly irrational, I know the Grumps have arrived do too will my period.

If you'll follow me on instagram you'll I now last month I was all about period talk on my stories. We wanted the tea and we wanted it now!

What was everyone predominately using, what were our cycles like, were we using any birth control and did we have anything that made our periods harder to deal with?

The census was that mensutral cups were extremely popular, moreson than I anticipated and I want to take a moment to stan all the environmentally aware babes out there having super ethical periods.

I love that we have so many options for what to use during our periods now and it says a lot about where we are heading as a society, though it will be cute when periods are no longer taxed...ahem. *stares directly at camera with utter sass*

Anyway the point is I was tired of using the same old methods of tampons and sanitary towels. As a performer it's often such a pain in the neck having to run to sort yourself during a show and I wanted to banish having to stuff multiple tampons in my backpack just to survive the day. I also know how damaging tampons and pads are environmentally because with the use of plastic it takes years to break down. Yall not to mention its actually not great for our vaginas and that is just the grown up tea.

So with all of that I have been waiting to transition to something new and since I turned 29 this year I realised it was time to suck it up and make the changes I know are right for me.

Enter, the Mooncup!

Truthfully the only reason it's taken me this long to try and mensutral cup is because I am a big baby and overthink. So as you can imagine I'd fashioned several horror movie type scenarios in my hear about what the experience would look like.

Truth be told...it was nothing like I anticipated (no Quentin Tarantino scenes happening during my cycle).

Now background information on a brand is important and so I will link their "About" page because o feel like they articulate their story perfectly themselves. https://www.mooncup.co.uk/who-we-are/our-story/

Now when we got in touch with each other the folks over at Mooncup suggested that the best way to trial the Mooncup was to use it over a period of three months. So you guys will follow me over the next few periods as I give this a go!

It's amazing to see a brand lead by women make something for women. It feels empowering and important and I truly feel like extra care is taken.

Before I get into my experience I think it's good to tell you that Mooncup has a dedicated helpline via email and telephone that connects you to a nurse that can give you proper medical advice and is truly the best asset when it comes to approaching using the cup for the first time. ([email protected] Tel +44(0) 1273 673 845)

When you open up your box you'll find your cup in a sweet little pouch and an awesomely specific instruction manual on how to start with your cup.

First things first was to make sure I'd sertilized it and so straight into the put of boiling water it went for 5 minutes.

After I left it to cool I headed into the bathroom with my instructions to figure out how to insert.

My cycles can be investing in terms of my moods and symptoms. I feel like I experience every symptom possible on the spectrum and so having a stress free period is important.

I was nervous trying the cup for the first time because honestly it took me ages to even hype myself to try tampons all those years ago. So though the nerves were normal they definitely gave me more stress than necessary when it came to the cup.

So the first thing is, relax. I was rigid and clenched and the anticipation was very heightening to making the experience more painful as I tried to insert.

The first two days of using the cup had me feeling like a gymnast because it was like nothing I did was allowing the cup to insert without pain or super flexibility.

So getting accustomed to breathing and relaxing as it came time to insert the cup was paramount. The more you stress the less likely it will go smoothly and I know that sounds like a given but trust me if this is your first foray to this sort of thing, you're going to be wary.

There are two different fold techniques that the instructions suggest for helping for smooth insertion and I found that the best option for me was folding the cup in half. The cup ends up making sort of a smiling face and depending on the day of my period and if I was light or heavy inserting the cup as a smile or a frown made things slightly easier.

It also helps to make sure that the cup itself is a little bit of water on it because moisture is key for a smoother glide!

At first I was super aware of the cup after insertion, but I suppose the same would be the case when you first try tampons. It's a weird sensation to feel the suction holding onto the walls of the vagina but I promise that after a while you don't even feel it let alone think about it.

You should also know that the first days the cup itself feels very firm and stiff but it does start to give and become more flexible after a fee days.

For the first month this has been trial and error. They first few days I felt like I had conquered a mountain and very bad ass, but on the heaviest days of my period it was a little trickier and I found myself getting frustrated because I do have very heavy days and so making sure the cup was sitting properly for zero leaks took time. I also had to make sure I was clearing out the cup every 3 hours rather than every 4 to 8 because there were some accidents but listen, with tampons and pads the same sort of thing can happen, so I wore a pad on my heavy days as precaution and at the end of the day its learning to monitor your body and figure out what works for you.

Next month for the second cup trial I want to try coupling some period pants with the cup on my heaviest days because I've realised that just for my own peace of mind its better to have extra coverage in case of accidents!

Honestly for the first round it was a success! I thought I would be petrified and irritated and frustrated the whole time but I was much more relaxed and calm and its been really interesting process in getting to know my own body because lets face it, as a plus size woman there is a lot more to navigate.

So for my bigger boos, don't be afraid of your own body! If you need to do gymnastics, DO IT! Your body is capable of more than you think. So get your squat in or lift those legs or spread them!

I went to the gym twice with my mooncup in and I went HARD because we need to know what we can do with it. I didn't feel as if my movement was restricted and I didnt feel as if it would be moving or holding me back in anyway!

Going out in public with the cup in felt scary because truthfully I felt that as soon as I walked out the door I would bleed everywhere but that just didnt happen. I was able to go around my business. One of my worries was when I would wee that it would leak or move but that never happened once. And after the 4th day of my cycle I felt comfortable to take it out and empty and reinsert. Thankfully I was in bathroom after bathroom with sinks but in the future I do know its important to carry a wee bottle of water with me to be able to clean out the cup if I need to but I'm in an isolated cubicle.

Now for those who are differently abled please don't hesitate to use the service of contacting the nurse via the mooncup website so that you can get some safe and comfortable suggestions on how to insert the cup without worrying about hurting or disconcerting yourself.

I was shocked with how quickly my hands adapted to insertion and how quickly I became comfortable with having to do it. We are capable of change and adapting and I often forget that when I get stuck in a routine.

So right now the pros are without a doubt outwieghing the cons and honestly what are the cons because I'm saving money, helping the environment and I'm being kinder my vagina (cause no fibres in this boo)

So stay tuned my beauty! This was the first trial and I'm really pleased with myself for challenging myself and with the cup for being my new assistant.

Watch this space for part 2!

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bakurapika · 7 years ago

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i wish this fic existed

wait didn’t i start writing that fic and give up

let me check

“It’s okay,” Greg said uncomfortably, looking up at Ryan. Those huge round eyes seemed to bore into him. “I know they told you to act nice. Everyone’s been acting weird since I lost my brother.”

“Yeah, well.” Ryan tried to choose his words carefully. How was he supposed to comfort a grieving six-year-old? “They probably just want you to know he’s in a better place.”

“I know. I was there too.” Greg smiled, almost wistful. Creepy.

“Listen, I don’t think your mom would want us talking about this,” Ryan said.

“I go visit him at night! Wilfred’s there too.”

“He--what?” Ryan looked back and forth between the dog and the boy, his stare lingering accusingly on Wilfred, who shrugged.

“No idea what he’s talking about, mate,” Wilfred said helpfully.

“You see… Wilfred, in your dreams about your dead brother?” Ryan said to Greg. “You just met him!”

“Wilfred’s the name of my frog, silly,” Greg said, holding up the croaking frog for emphasis.

grew up moving around, no one place to call jime

sunup to sunset on the bus all alone

mom was sick, dad at work, and with two younger kids

took care of them and herself, that was just how it is

went toe to toe with a number one killer

inked her, tazed her, didnt even phase her

got a pill and a bill that was forty feet long

got so pissed at the man cuz she knew it was wrong

flew thru pure force of rage straight to wdc

had a speech on tv for the whole world to see

haters say its ok that shes just starting drama

but so much fame, check her name, on her arm, Michelle obama

stepped up, packed up, drove to colorado

shes movin faster than a real desperado

dont start it youll regret it brother

if you try and start it, shes a real mother

“Yeah!” Wirt nodded eagerly, sitting and gesturing at Greg. “Last night we were setting up camp in a clearing. Everything normal, right? Greg’s bugging me, I mean, talking about eating bugs and stuff, but we all get to bed and everything’s fine. But I wake up and he’s like this.

“I’m hungry,” Greg complained loudly as he gathered darkened leaves in his arms.

“Yeah, Greg,” Wirt said. He’d already pushed together enough leaves to make a respectable pile to lie on. He was propped against the bark of a towering tree, hands folded on his stomach. “We’re all hungry. We can try to find a town or something again tomorrow, okay? Or an apple tree.”

“From Johnny Appleseed?” Greg’s eyes sparkled as he looked over at his brother.

“Yeah, sure. Maybe we’ll meet the guy. Stranger things have happened here.”

“Hooray,” Beatrice said from a branch above the two of them. “Then we’d get two weirdos with pots on their head.”

“Excuse me, madam!” Greg looked mortally offended. “This is a trunk!”

“Great, you’ll be able to fit even more apple seeds in it, then,” she said. “Ugh. Seeds. What I’d give for a handful of seeds right now.”

Wirt looked up to her and said, “Can’t you just eat some bugs or something?”

“Sure I could,” she said. “So could you two.”

“Yuck,” Greg said, finally deeming his leaf pile large enough to push toward Wirt. In trying to relocate the pile, he lost half the leaves in the process, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Wirt, you can split my share of bugs.”

“Split?” Wirt said.

“Yeah, with Paul Bunyan!” he said, pointing at his frog, who croaked in hungry anticipation.

“None of us is eating bugs. Except Beatrice. Because she’s a bird and it’s okay for birds to do that.”

“I guess I’m eating you two, since you won’t stop bugging me and get to sleep!” Beatrice said, feathers ruffled.

“I dunno if I can sleep,” Greg said, scooting up alongside Wirt and grabbing his pet frog. Wirt was cold but not quite cold enough for cuddles with his kid half-brother, so he correspondingly inched away. “That tree over there keeps looking at me.”

“Which tree?” Wirt said warily, craning his neck to look around. Greg didn’t answer. Wirt opened his mouth to repeat himself when he noticed Greg curled up, breathing softly. Sound asleep already--so much for staying up all night. “Guess we’re safe from trees after all, huh,” Wirt said.

“I’m not gonna slow down for you tomorrow if you’re dead on your feet from lack of sleep,” Beatrice said grumpily above him.

“Gosh, I’m sleeping, I’m sleeping,” Wirt said, turning to lie on his side and face the deep forest around them. He didn’t see any trees with faces. Hopefully that meant they couldn’t see him either.

His sleep was undisturbed, save for a few quiet complaints of hunger from a restless Greg beside him. But each time one of the brothers awoke, they fell asleep again soon after, exhaustion outweighing every other bodily need until the sun peaked over the treetops and threw its beams into their eyes.

As usual, Beatrice seemed to awaken at the crack of dawn and spend the next hour pestering Wirt to “get up and get a move on already!”

Wirt’s protests for “five more minutes” were useless and he soon found himself waking up, limbs creaking like an old rocking chair when he moved and rubbed his eyes.

“Time to get moving, Greg,” he said, stifling a yawn and reaching out to shake Greg’s shoulder. “Let’s go.”

At first it seemed Greg was still sound asleep. Wirt was about to shake him a bit harder when Greg smoothly turned to blink up at him. There was something disarming about his expression that gave Wirt pause. More than anything Greg did, though, what he looked like startled Wirt.

His eyes.

Those huge, bulbous, familiar multi-colored eyes: pink pupils ringed with yellow, and a sickening sky blue around the iris that invaded the whites of Greg’s eyes.

“Greg?” Wirt asked hesitantly, pulling his hand back.

Greg smiled as though nothing was wrong.

“Thaaaaat’s not okay,” Wirt said, scrambling away from his brother. “Greg! Can you, uh, can you hear me?”

“Of course,” Greg said pleasantly. His blinking was slow and unnatural.

Wirt gave him a once-over, checking for anything else weird. There were vines growing beneath Greg, twining up his limbs. Wirt thought he saw one move. Greg’s frog was watching warily, keeping his distance. “Seriously? I mean, you don’t, uh, look… um. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three,” Greg said when Wirt flashed three fingers at him.

“And you’re feeling okay?”

“I feel fine, brother.” Greg’s smile didn’t leave him, nor did those huge eyes waver from meeting Wirt’s.

“Beatrice!” Wirt called up to the bird circling above them, trying to navigate from the sky. “This is creepy, right? I mean, it’s not just me?”

“What is it now?” Beatrice alighted beside the boys, unconcerned until she got a good look at Greg. “Holy moley, that doesn’t look good.”

Wirt made a confused groan, waving his hand in front of Greg slowly. Greg’s eyes didn’t follow it, staying locked onto Wirt’s face. When Wirt stood and brushed himself off, though, Greg stood as well. The vines caging his limbs moved with him, their roots skimming through the dirt without resistance as if Greg were standing on water rather than solid ground.

Wirt glanced up and down at the boy, then, with a grunt, stooped and picked him up experimentally. Greg was dead weight in his arms, grinning without concern as the branches stretched up to accommodate his new height.

“This is bad,” Wirt said, dragging Greg away from the leaf piles they’d slept on. The plants followed. “Greg, what are you feeling right now? What happened?”

“I feel fine,” Greg said. He was breathing--Wirt checked--but otherwise there was no movement, none of the animation that always accompanied Greg’s words.

Wirt set him down, his arms aching. “This has to have something to do with the Beast,” he decided. “Those freaky trees. We gotta cut you out of these things.” He grabbed at a thin branch for emphasis, but it stuck to Greg as if it were part of his natural body. “So we gotta find something sharp. Maybe there’s a doctor or something around that can… remove this? I dunno.” Wirt grabbed his cap from the forest floor and stuck it on his head. “Can you walk okay, Greg?”

“Yes.” The curt answer might have sounded rude if it weren’t so cheerful.

“We’re pretty far from any buildings,” Beatrice said, alighting on Greg’s teapot where the branches hadn’t reached. “I say we keep heading toward the ferry. Worst case, we can get Adelaide to help us.”

“You think he can go across water?” Wirt asked with a frown.

“Look, boats have safety equipment and stuff, don’t they? I’m sure they’ve got something sharp on board. Now c’mon, this way, we’re losing daylight,” Beatrice said.

Wirt murmured in reluctant agreement. Greg obeyed Beatrice thoughtlessly, walking so smoothly as to almost glide across the ground. With a croak, the frog followed, always at least arm’s length away from Greg.

Wirt watched them go for a moment, staring at the back of Greg’s head. The odd cadence of Greg’s movement, normally so bouncy and halting but now as effortless as the shadow of a storm cloud sliding across the landscape, disturbed him. But more than anything else, those eyes glowing in their nauseating washed-out neons--the eyes of a predator, accessorized by the fancy-free smile of youth--haunted Wirt’s thoughts. Something deep within him stirred, urging him to run, abandon the quest for home and escape the Beast while he could. The mortal terror he’d felt when facing the mill’s dog was present in him now, but amplified. But as impossible as it was to pretend there was nothing unworldly about his brother, it was equally unthinkable to leave him. Even the ghost of that thought made Wirt recoil. Leaving Greg was fundamentally undoable.

So, delayed, perhaps, but with a steeled resolve, Wirt forced himself forward and took Greg’s hand. It was cold and dry, and Greg didn’t acknowledge the touch. But Beatrice turned her head to look at Wirt, confused at the sudden gesture.

Wirt couldn’t remember the last time he’d held his brother’s hand.

Onward the three of them went, plunging deeper into the thick forest of the Unknown.

---

“What was that?” Wirt said, stopping short. They’d walked all day, the blazing sun arcing above them until it sleepily settled behind the horizon, tucking itself in and preparing for nighttime. They’d have to stop and make camp soon, though Beatrice insisted they could make it to the ferry before midnight.

Hearing an odd, almost melodic clanking drove Wirt off course. He’d held Greg’s hand all day (still with no reaction from Greg himself), so when Wirt froze and turned, Beatrice’s teapot perch stopped too.

“Ignore it, Wirt, we’re almost there,” Beatrice chided him, but Wirt shook his head.

“That wasn’t an animal. I think there might be a house nearby,” he said, pulling Greg behind him toward the source of the noise.

“It doesn’t matter! Stick to the plan and stay on course,” Beatrice commanded.

The way Wirt ignored her was unprecedented. “No, I was right!” he said, gesturing at a clearing as they came upon it. “A house! Whoever lives here has gotta be able to help us fix Greg somehow!” A clinking answered him cheerfully from what appeared to be a homemade windchime--shards of something white wrapped by twine and hung from a stick near a window. It might have been makeshift, but Wirt took it as a comforting sign. It was definitely a gamble to ask a stranger for help in these woods, but this shack came across as homey. Wirt thought he smelled fresh tea and vegetables; his stomach felt emptier than it had a moment ago.

He wasted no time in dragging his brother on the porch, rapping his knuckles on the wooden door. No answer came, though he almost certainly saw a silhouette move inside the dark home.

“Let’s go, Wirt, no one’s in,” Beatrice said from behind him.

One more knock, and then Wirt said, “Excuse me?” through the door. “I’m sorry, I know it’s late, but this is an emergency and we need your help!”

It seemed like the door would stay shut, but as Wirt raised his hand to knock again, it rattled and opened cautiously. “What sort of emergency?” a suspicious voice, high pitched enough to be either a girl’s or a young woman’s, asked through the crack.

“I, um. That’s a good question.” Wirt bit the inside of his cheek while staring down at a silent Greg. “Something really weird is happening to my brother. Do you know where we can find a doctor or something? As soon as possible.”

The door opened a little wider. Wirt spied a girl around his age, crowned with a wild mousey-brown head of hair and swathed in a yellowed nightdress, in the cabin. “I’m sorry if I woke you up,” Wirt added nervously.

“Oh--” The girl looked down, clearly only now realizing that she wasn’t dressed for company. “It’s all right, I wasn’t sleeping yet. You’d better come inside. There’s no doctor for miles and miles, and it’s not safe to be out in the forest. Especially at night.”

“You’re telling me. C’mon, Greg. Beatrice!” he called behind him. “Are you coming?”

“I might as well,” Beatrice grumbled, swooping in beside Wirt.

The girl looked as if she’d been delighted out of her trepidation, holding the door open for all three guests. “A talking bird! Amazing!”

Beatrice didn’t miss a beat, altering her voice to be so polite that Wirt thought it must be physically painful for her to speak as she alighted on the inner corner of a window sill. “Ah, right, pleasure to meet you. My name is Beatrice, and these two darlings are Wirt and Greg. We’re nearing the end of a harrowing journey, and I’m positive we won’t be bothering you for long.” She shot Wirt a look.

“I can’t believe--Beatrice, have you seen Greg?” Wirt took Greg by the shoulders and spun him around to face the bluebird. Greg stared blankly at her, tricoloured eyes glowing in the dim lamplight of the cabin. “He’s not even Greg right now!”

Beatrice hopped from one side to the other, unsettled by the stare. “It won’t matter once we get to Adelaide. She’ll fix things.”

“Or, maybe--” Wirt started to retort, but looked at his host, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

The girl was standing off to the side, hands behind her back, but offered a smile when spoken to. “I’m Anna. It’s a pleasure to meet you all as well.” She waved a hand toward a table, three chairs already set around it. “Make yourselves comfortable. May I ask what’s wrong with your brother?”

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To tune of mexican hat dance (or ‘nations of the world’)

Triceratops prorsus was really herbivorous though it had three scary horns

Then right above us is a Quetzalcoatlus, a reptile who was airborne

Thescelosaurus, a “lizard” so wondrous, though it got left in a crate

When Hatcher shipped Marsh this neglected specimen and Struthiomimus by freight

Daspletosaurus is a big frightful lizard a little older than T-Rex

And nearby you see the marsupial teeth of a didelphodon called vorax

Dromaeosaurus was covered in feathers and might have evolved into birds

The crocodile lizard (by name, Champsosaurus) was, before Cope, quite unheard

Stangerochampsa was found in Montana, above it’s a Pteranodon

And here is a juvenile cretaceous duckbill, the “lizard” named for Edmonton

The 80-feet dino is not an Apato, it’s Brontosaurus since last year

And Allosaurus is the common meat-eater that Felch found as Marsh’s souvenir

Denver has hidden its Stegosaur blueprints but hopefully we’ll get one soon,

Though pterosaurs nearby were dug up right here by the quarry back in ‘92!

The big Pterodaustro fed like a flamingo by filtering water with bristles,

And next to it, gracious, we see Dorignathus then Rhamphorynchus fly like missiles

Our cutest dimorphodon came shipped from London by Marsh for his pterosaur round-up

And that’s it for dinos and fossils from dry land since an asteroid blew the ground up

This 42-footer is Elasmosaurus, whose head Cope put back on the tail

And here from Dallas, Protostega gigas, a turtle whose shell’s not to scale

And the Cretaceous snake’s-cousin from Kansas, the Tylosaurus with a snout

As well as the pteranodon from Niobrara, whose male’s wings are twice as stout

Xiphactinus audax is last of the big fish which Ed Cope managed to procure

Now give directions to museum sections and hope that they enjoyed the tour!

#WHY AM I LIKE THIS #wilf is NOT '[old north] wind i'd like to fuck' contrary to my own expectations #under the cut is just a bunch of wips #i found as i clicked through various untitled documents

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yayaiamlordee · 5 years ago

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Wedding Regrets

Let me just say now, no. I do not regret marrying my husband. I love him more than anything and he is no where near a regret to me.

Now onward.

I got married back in June, just a couple of months ago okay. And even though things did go smoothly which I am so happy about, there’s several things that are coming to surface that I am having a bit of trouble with. I’m just going to make a list.

1. I originally wanted to get married sometime in September. Originally September 22nd. We ended up settling for June 13th because we found a venue we really liked and the original date was too expensive for us. It was $5000 for a weekend wedding. The lady helping us was explaining to us that if we did a wedding on a weekday, it would be $2900 which was still a little pricey but more affordable for us. We were paying for most of our wedding out of pocket so we didn’t have much to work with. We also didn’t want to wait another year or two to get married. We narrowed it down to what day we would like to have which would be a Thursday since it was as close to the weekend as possible without the weekend price. I also had months that were an absolute no for me. I didn’t want any months that had major holidays in it. So there goes January/April/July/October/November/December. I also didn’t want to get married in May because my parents were married that month and its already a full month of birthdays/anniversaries/etc., meaning barely anyone would come i’m sure. So really the only months that would be an option were February-March. June/August/September. We decided that the beginning of the year would probably be difficult hence being right after all the holidays. And it being too cold. So there goes February-March. Literally left with June, August and September. She named off dates and June 13th on Thursday was one of them. We ended up just saying “sure.” not really giving time to think about other days in August or September even. I really wanted a fall wedding. I’m not much of a summer person. I think we also decided on June because we went on our honeymoon to Colorado. Thinking it would be a good time to go with it being summer. Our honeymoon was still relaxing though. So that was fun. Anyways, I still always felt off about our wedding date and i almost changed it with our venue but I was worried we wouldn’t be able to, or that it would be extra to change so I never did it. Though it always upset me in the back of my mind that I wasn’t getting the date I originally wanted. A time of year that I felt happiest at. I just think I was overwhelmed with the wedding planning process to begin with, I just wanted to have a date set in stone so I just said yes to whatever. And I do feel stupid that I am so bothered by a date but it’s probably because its a time frame I originally didnt want and now the date is forever. I should focus on the fact that it’s a day I vowed my life to Traven and that’s what is important. I just feel like I missed out again on something I really wanted originally and I fell under pressure to myself. Though I just found out that our venue we got married at is closing permanently at the end of this month. So we did dodge a bullet not doing a wedding in September.

2. I desperately wanted to have colored hair for my wedding and had it done differently. My hair style that day didn’t look as neat and clean as I was imagining it to be. It looks like an average low bun with nice bangs and shit ton of bobby pins. Also I had made a promise to my mother and great grandmother that I would have my natural hair for my wedding and now I’m regretting it. I look at my photos and I feel like they’re not me. I love having my colored hair and standing out in a positive way like that. I just felt it was boring. I felt like I was just another typical person and I don’t want to do that. I want to be unique or be someone that people are like “man, I wish I would have done that for my wedding!” or “look how gorgeous she is not being a traditional bride!” It’s not me. It’s not who I am for sure on that. I wanted to be an alternative bride. I originally wanted a blue dress or just a different color besides white. I got a white dress with tan underneath. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVED my dress. It was absolutely beautiful and I felt beautiful in it. Just wish it was maybe a grey, blue or black even! But overall I just wanted to a different style of bride but I went for traditional even though I am not traditional. This also comes into play with having no self identity security if that makes sense. I just don’t know who I am but if I could go back to the day of our wedding again, I would have dyed my hair the night before the wedding and been colorful. I’m regretting so hard because I feel like I am now getting uncomfortable with looking at my wedding photos. I can’t recognize who is in the photos. It doesn’t feel like me.

3. I didn’t get as many photos as I wanted. Everything was rushed and I actually lost on chances for certain photos. I wish I had more time or was more stern with time frames and organizing. I wanted more one on one shots of Traven and I but I didn’t get many. I have several of the same angle and I like them but I just wish I had more angles and poses you know? I also wish I would have gotten more photos of just myself as a bride. Picture of my bouquet by itself because it was so pretty. The colors and how it was arranged was gorgeous. These little details I really wanted but it slipped my mind to get them because I was so focused on everything else that day.

4. I’m really upset about how big i was planning my wedding. I originally invited 150 people and only had 120 RSVP up til the wedding. The day of the wedding comes and literally only 70-80 people were at the ceremony and 60-65 people at the actual reception. I had so many empty chairs and so many empty tables that it made me feel like a lot of people didn’t want to celebrate this day with us. It made me feel lonely for some reason. I didn’t get to see Traven a lot during the reception because he kept wondering off after our dance and such so he could talk to people. Which is fine. But I didn’t really have him with me so people could celebrate us together. Idk. Is that wrong to say?? I ended up letting the wedding end 4 1/2 hours earlier than our time booked because mostly everyone had left. Our wedding was only 4 hours long. I just don’t think that’s a lot of time for such a wonderful day like this. You hope to only get married once, I wanted to celebrate. I was devastated. I wanted it to last much longer with my friends and family. I wanted them there. I had low expectations though for my mothers side of the family. They all left within like an hour and half into the reception because they have better things to do i’m sure. At my mother’s wedding, there were there for maybe 30 minutes before they all left. Yet if it comes to any one else of them getting married or hosting an event, they’re there until the very end. Still hurts though you know? Makes me resent them more. I’m just really upset about how empty our wedding felt. Seeing pictures from the ceremony and seeing there maybe be 70 chairs empty, it looks pathetic and embarrassing.

5. I also wish Traven would have picked a better time to propose to me. We had just broken up a couple of months before. He left me unexpectedly. Ended up having both of us be moved out of the house we were living in with roommates, moved back into our parents house, didn’t talk to each other and I had a mental breakdown resulting in being admitted into a mental health facility. It was an awful situation. He reached out to a few months later asking to talk and told he had life crisis and just was scared of a lot of things and plus was out of his mind after taking a dab. After talking for a long time, I forgave him and took him back. His family was not happy about it and were pissed at me even though I wasn’t the one who broke up with him. He was the one who did and left. My family was forgiving. Few days later, unexpectedly he proposed to me at a golf course that he last minute saw and decided it was an okay place. We don’t golf at all or have no reason to go to a golf course so it gave it away with what he was doing because it is not something we ever did. He proposed but instead of being excited, I felt fear. I knew his family would be furious. I didn’t know how my family would respond. I also didn’t know if this was a good idea because we just got back together after he fucking left me. So I was scared that this was some sick joke and that he would just up and leave again. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings so I did the face covering “omg i’m so happy” pose and said yes. Now, part of me did want to say yes, but not at all in these circumstances and ESPECIALLY at a damn golf course. Not to mention in the middle of him asking to marry me, a guy on a golf cart told us to leave because we couldn’t be on the property. I was humiliated. Also not to mention, I wasn’t showerd, had no bra on, my hair was a mess, I had been in a dark basement in bed crying all day and just I looked like absolute shit. It is not in any way how someone imagines being proposed to. Hey, at least he got the ring right. It was gorgeous. I love my ring. But just like I feared, his family went OFF. His mother kicked Traven out, isolated him from family. His dad screamed at him. His parents didn’t want to see me and basically said Traven was crazy. My idea of a proposal was that it would be planned out, I would look nice, I would have someone to take photos, my family and his family and all of our friends would be excited for us. Instead we got a shit show. We had to hide our engagement for months. I didn’t get to be happy about being engaged for the longest time. I lost friends, I had people saying “didn’t you guys just break up? This is stupid.” I also had other people saying I was making a huge mistake. it hurt so much to hear all of this. It still bothers the hell out of me and I want to get past it but how? Now so many of my friends are getting engaged and married. My best friend just got engaged right after my wedding and I’m so happy for her. But i’m also so envious. I wish I would have gotten that excitement from my engagement. I wish I would have pictures. Instead I have a posed photo of him “proposing” to me at our engagement photo session because I wanted to feel like i had something. I just feel so awful for complaining so much. I just so badly wish things went differently. So many things in my life always ended up being a shit show or I missed out on something. It makes me fear about having a child. What if I miscarry, have a stillborn, they die on me, or they have a disorder that ruins their quality of life and I have to watch my child suffer? I’m so scared.

I do want to point out some positives though.

1. I got to marry my best friend and if it counts, our day overall went smoothly. I didn’t have any issues with family/friends or the day itself besides people leaving early, not showing up and missing out on photos.

2. Our flowers/cake and decorations/ the venue looked wonderful. I was so happy.

3. Our honeymoon was fun. It was nice to be back in Colorado and even go to a spa. it was so relaxing.

4. I do like my photos that I have besides the fact that I don’t like looking at myself. I have some photos that I will definitely cherish.

5. Majority of the people that were there at the wedding were people that were most important to me. My great grandmother couldn’t make it but I know she wanted to be there. It broke my heart to hear her cry about not being able to be there. But that she loved me and she couldn’t want to see photos and hear all about it.

6. I loved my dress. And I was so happy wearing my converse bright orange shoes under my dress. I showed them off. I felt like i stood out a little bit.

7. My brother walked me down the isle and I knew he was proud. I was too.

8. All my bridesmaids and groomsmen looked wonderful. I was so relieved to know everyone matched and it came out good. ( I was worried for a while since everyone went at different times to get their items)

9. I got to dance with my brother, my dad, my mom and step dad. I cried a lot that day. Which is normal obviously.

10. I had the colors I wanted and it came together.

11. Traven’s family, especially parents have been supportive with us and really accepted me back in their family again. It’s such a nice feeling.

12. I get to go on this new adventure with Traven and I think I did make the right decision with him. He’s been so patient with me and does his best to help support me when i’m in over my head with anxiety.

If anyone has advice or can even relate, feel free to message me. It’s nice to know i’m not the only one who feels this way

#weddings #wedding regrets #marriage #vows #wedding #identity issues #BPD #Indecisive #relationships #love #married #couples #marriage advice #fear #anxiety #stress #marriage stress #unsure #scared

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