#My Happy Mariage

[i-remember-now]

He's so handsome!

[whatasmoothgardener]

So I was skimming through the untranslated T&B anthologies and stumbled upon this. @ BandaiNamcoPictures Nathan harem ending when

[h-otaruche]

you know your life gets too random when you saw a random community post on YouTube from someone random that you don't even follow, saying that they were watching anime and wanted to know who VA'd and seeing that a random youtuber you like dubbed in English??? Then you're like "omg wouldn't it be funny to watch the anime"

yes, it is very funny.

I can't concentrate because he's ML in a shoujo AND I CAN'T GET OVER THAT FACT

[lesparaversdemillina]

My Happy Marriage T1 de Rito KOSAKA et Akumi AGITOGI

My Happy Marriage T1 de Rito KOSAKA et Akumi AGITOGI J'ai lu le premier tome et je ressens un mélange de sentiments envers Miyo, le personnage principal. Elle manque de profondeur et d'impact émotionnel. Pourtant, l'univers mystérieux et le personnage masculin intrigant me poussent à continuer la lecture. Les dessins, bien que très fins, renforcent les personnalités des personnages. Mon attention est surtout captivée par le mystère entourant les pouvoirs. Malgré ma frustration envers Miyo, je suis curieuse de voir comment l'histoire évoluera.

Mon avis Ce premier tome est assez mou. Il manque de rythme. Je n’ai pas ressenti d’attachement particulier pour le personnage principal. Miyo est effacée, douce et servile. Certes, son histoire personnelle explique ce dernier trait de caractère, mais elle est fade à cause de cela. Il n’y a pas une pointe d’impertinence, encore moins de révolte. Elle n’est pas vivante. Elle ne souffle pas, ne…

[xhoess]

pls can you write an happy ending angst with nicholas chavez where reader and him discuss mariage and having children in general and reader shuts down the subjects saying mariage is overrated and meaningless and she hates children and doesn’t want any. so they starts debating/ fighting and he’s flabbergasted bc they don’t have at all the same vision of life and during few days it’s very cold/tensed between them especially him bc he told her that he wanted her to be the mother of their children. but at the end she ends up telling him why she is afraid to have PPD since she had a long depression and there more risks to have post partum depression if you had been depressed, to become a bad mom like her narcissistic mom …

(Yes omg I immediately started when I saw this🥲🥲)

"Facing Fears, Finding Love"

Nicholas chavez x fem reader

Summary: When Nicholas Chavez shares his dreams of marriage and children, you shut him down, leading to a tense argument. Days of distance follow until you confess your fears of postpartum depression and becoming a bad mother due to your past struggles. Nicholas, understanding and supportive, reassures you with unconditional love. Together, you begin to rebuild trust, facing the future with renewed hope and mutual understanding.

Words: 7.6 K

The air was thick with tension, the comfortable silence that had enveloped your cozy living room now feeling stifling. The soft glow of the table lamp cast gentle shadows over Nicholas's features, but the warmth was rapidly giving way to something far colder. He sat perched on the edge of the couch, a half-empty cup of tea cradled between his hands. His gaze had shifted from the window to you, and you sensed that something in him had changed since your blunt words had cut through the evening.

His enthusiasm had been infectious just moments earlier as he excitedly shared his visions of a future filled with laughter and children. You could remember the way his eyes sparkled, how his voice had held such a soothing cadence as he painted dreamlike scenarios of family vacations, birthday parties, and the cozy chaos of everyday life. The dreams that had built up effortlessly in his imagination had felt almost tangible, revived by the warmth of your shared space.

But then you shattered that moment. You could still hear the harshness of your own voice as you declared, "Marriage is overrated and meaningless," and then coolly added, "I hate kids. I don’t want any." The sting of your words hung between you, suspended like a bitter fog that neither of you knew how to dissipate.

Nicholas's expression shifted from one of hope to confusion, and finally to pain. His brows knitted together, as if trying to piece together the fragments of the conversation, and you saw the light in his eyes dim. "Why didn’t you say something before?" he asked, his voice a tight whisper, the tremor in it revealing the depth of his shock.

You opened your mouth, intending to reply, but the words caught in your throat. "I... I didn’t think it mattered," you stuttered, the pit in your stomach tightening as you tried to pick apart your jumbled thoughts.

Nicholas shook his head, his deep-set eyes searching yours for an answer you were not ready to give. "It does matter! You make it sound like all my dreams are foolish. I always thought you’d be the mother of my children!" He stood up abruptly, his movement punctuating the tension that crackled in the room. The chair he had been perched on scraped against the floor, a sound sharp enough to increase your heartbeat.

"I didn’t realize you had those dreams," you argued, defensiveness creeping into your voice. "Why would you assume that I would fill that role? Just because we’re together doesn't mean we want the same future."

Nicholas's face crumpled at your words, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered if he would crumble under the weight of your lack of understanding. "Because I thought we were building a life together," he shot back, the hurt evident in his tone. "I can’t believe you never mentioned this before. I always shared my dreams with you, and I believed you were sharing yours too. Was it all a lie?"

Your heart raced, and the sense of being cornered filled you with an urge to flee. "It’s not a lie!" you exclaimed, desperate to have him understand. "I just... I never thought you meant it so seriously. You know how I feel about kids, and you always seemed so... sure."

"But those were my hopes!" Nicholas’s voice rose, filled with bewildered frustration. "And you made me feel like I was the only one on this path. I thought we were on the same page—working toward a future together. Now I find out you’ve been harboring these feelings in secret!"

"Do you think I want this?" you replied, anger rising from a place you hadn’t known existed. "Do you think it’s easy for me to admit this? I didn’t want to disappoint you!" The words were out before you could snatch them back, biting into the already frayed fabric of the evening.

Nicholas paused, his chest rising and falling heavily with each breath, the realization washing over him as he processed your admission. "You must’ve known I would want to know," he said quietly, the hurt lying heavy in each syllable.

“I thought it could work,” you said, your voice betraying the edge of desperation. “I thought I could learn to want those things. But I can’t. I don’t want them.” The finality in your voice echoed around the room, but the truth collided with the storm brewing within you—a twisted mix of anger, sadness, and guilt.

Nicholas took a deep breath, visibly deflating. "I don’t want to pressure you into something you don’t want," he said, the warmth of his usual tone replaced by resigned coldness. "But I thought we were building a life together. I thought you were on board with this."

A painful silence descended, so thick you could nearly touch it. The more you tried to dismiss your internal storm, the louder it grew, shrieking that you could lose him, that this could be the turning point of everything you shared.

Nicholas stepped back then, retreating from your presence as if he needed physical space away from the wall he felt was being built between you. "I just... I need some air," he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. And with that, he walked away, leaving the conversation unresolved, like an unfinished melody that echoed in the empty silence.

You stood there, rooted to the spot, a ghost of guilt weaving its strands through your being. You wanted to go after him, to take back your words, but instead, you remained motionless, staring into the distance, the shadow of what had just transpired pressing down on you like an anchor.

The weight of your convictions pressed heavily against your chest, but so too did the fear of what might happen next. Would he really walk away? Would this moment linger? You felt trapped between the walls of your own design, and you couldn't decide which was more terrifying: the thought of losing Nicholas or the dread of confronting the real emotions behind your aversion to his dreams.

Breathing low and shaky, you sank onto the edge of the couch, the faint sound of Nicholas’s footsteps fading into the night. You were left alone, surrounded by silence, filled with a torrent of unresolved emotions swirling deeper in the recesses of your heart.

You spent the next few days drifting through your routine like a ghost. Each morning greeted you with the same tightness in your chest, a constant reminder of the cavernous rift that had opened between you and Nicholas. You felt it as you brewed your coffee, the familiar sound of the kettle boiling echoing in your small kitchen, yet it felt so foreign without Nicholas’s laughter or his gentle teasing about your obsessive coffee-making rituals. The silence was heavy, suffocating.

Nicholas had retreated into himself, a stark shift from the exuberant man who had spent countless evenings talking about dreams and plans. Now, sitting on the couch, you watched him scroll through his phone whenever he was nearby, his eyes dull, the corners of his mouth pressed into a thin line. He seemed a million miles away, lost in thoughts you couldn't penetrate. Each glance in his direction felt like a glimpse into an impenetrable fortress—one that had been built overnight after that fateful evening.

As you prepared your meals, the routine felt strangely haunting. You would plate two servings, only to find yourself taking the food to the table in silence. The atmosphere was heavy with unspokenness, punctuated only by the clattering of utensils. Nicholas would sit opposite you, often looking down at his food, as if it was the most fascinating spectacle in the world. After a few awkward bites, he would excuse himself, muttering something about an early start the following day. You would watch him go, the door swinging shut like the final nail in the coffin of your conversation.

In the evenings, you found yourself gravitating toward the living room window, staring out at the street below, watching people pass by with their laughter and carefree chatter. Your heart ached as you thought of how easy it had once been for you and Nicholas to share such moments, laughing and dreaming about the future. Now, memories felt like daggers, cutting deeper with each recollection of his face lighting up while talking about a family.

You tried to reach out, to bridge the distance, but every time you opened your mouth to speak, words got stuck in your throat. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many unexpressed fears that loomed over you like dark clouds. You didn’t want to unpack them in front of Nicholas, especially after how he had looked at you in shock. Instead, you chose solitary evenings, curled up on the couch with a blanket and a book, pretending to be engrossed in stories that danced around you but never quite touched your heart.

Occasionally, you’d catch Nicholas’s eye, and in those brief moments, your heart would flutter with hope. Maybe he’d reach out, maybe he’d say something… But each time, he just looked away, as if he were afraid to delve into that abyss of unexpressed thoughts. It reminded you of the time a friend had brought an injured bird to your doorstep. You both stared at it, sympathizing with its struggle, but when it came to the actual act of helping, you froze. Both of you had chosen to leave it alone, believing it was better that way.

One evening, as golden twilight faded into cool dusk, things grew unbearable. The silence felt like a living entity, twisting around you both like vines, choking the air. You found yourself standing by the window, tracing patterns on the glass with your fingers, when Nicholas’s voice cut through the stillness, soft but laden with weight.

“Are you just going to keep shutting me out?” he asked, his tone edged with pain.

You turned slowly, locking eyes with him. There was a vulnerability there that made your heart ache. Memories surged, unbidden—moments of joy, laughter, and warmth—and it shattered something inside you. You opened your mouth to respond, but the words cowered, retreating back into the shadows of your mind.

Nicholas stepped closer, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans as if they were the only anchor he had left. “We can’t keep doing this,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t talk to me anymore. You don’t look at me the way you used to. I feel like I’m losing you.”

His admission cut deeply, the truth of his words reverberating within you. You wanted to scream that you were still there, still the person who loved him fiercely, but the fear of unveiling your struggles kept your tongue tied. Instead, you bit your lip, the taste of dread pooling in your stomach.

“I’m...fine,” you said, the lie tasting bitter on your lips as you looked away.

“Fine? You think this is fine? You closed yourself off after that night, and I am left here, feeling like some kind of stranger. I just want to understand,” he urged, his voice thickening with emotion.

His frustration hung thick in the air, and you felt an overwhelming urge to run, to hide away from the truth that loomed behind your eyes—the fear, the apprehension—a tangled web of hurt that you were still unraveling.

“Just leave me alone,” you finally managed, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. It was a defense mechanism, your voice detached and flat, concealing the tempest inside.

Nicholas’s face fell, eyes wide with hurt. “Why are you pushing me away?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I can’t make sense of any of this! I thought we were in this together!”

His words stung, and you stood there, feeling the distance grow wider, casting long shadows in the light of the fading day. “You wouldn’t understand,” you whispered, the admission barely escaping your lips.

With that, he turned and walked away, the weight of his footsteps reverberating through the quiet of the house. You could hear the sound of the door shutting behind him, blunt and final, and you were left standing alone in that echoing silence, the guilt rising inside you like a relentless tide.

As the minutes turned to hours, you sat on the edge of the couch, your head spinning with confusion. You were filled with guilt for not sharing your fears, yet terrified of how he would react if you did. As darkness enveloped the room, so did the realization that the love you cherished felt like it was slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

In the emptiness, you found yourself wavering in that fragile silence, torn between the love you had for Nicholas and the walls you had built to shield yourself from the storm raging within. As night deepened, and shadows crept along the walls, you sat encased in loneliness, wondering if the silence between you could ever be broken.

You had counted the hours, but when you were finally able to measure the silence in days, it felt like a weight pressing against your chest. The quiet hung in your apartment like an uncomfortable guest who had overstayed their welcome. The remnants of heated words still echoed in your mind, taunting you as you passed through rooms once filled with laughter and conversation. You thought about reaching out to Nicholas, but each time you opened your mouth to speak, words crumbled in your throat, frail and weak.

The living room, once a sanctuary of warmth, had become a battleground adorned with remnants of the life you shared—the cozy blanket on the couch, the coffee mug still resting on the side table from a time before the argument erupted. Now, even the soft tremble of the air felt altered—thick, stifling. Nicholas had barely spoken since that fateful night, his eyes betraying a hurt that cut deeper with each glance as he withdrew further into himself.

You were busy preparing dinner—an unremarkable pasta dish—when you heard the sound of keys jiggling in the lock. Nicholas entered the house, and the mere act of him crossing the threshold somehow intensified the suffocating silence. You turned your back to him, focusing on the bubbling pot as if it could distract you from the gravity of the moment.

“Hey,” Nicholas said softly, his voice barely rising above the sound of water boiling, but you felt the tremor in it as if the ground beneath you was shifting. You willed your heart to slow, taking a deep breath, bracing yourself for the waves of anxiety that threatened to pull you under.

“Hey,” you managed to murmur without turning around. There was a heaviness in the air between you, a chasm of unspoken words stretching wide. You sensed him lingering in the doorway, unsure of how to breach the wall that had crashed down between you.

After an interminable moment, he finally stepped forward. “I can’t keep doing this,” he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “I can’t stand this silence.” His words wrapped around you, both a lifeline and a knife. “You feel so far away. Why have you shut me out?”

His vulnerability struck you. The warmth of his breath brushed against your neck, and despite the tension, a part of you longed to lean into him, to bridge that unbearable distance. But fear held you back, chaining you in place. You turned to face him, and the sight of his pained expression tugged at something deep inside.

“I don't know where to start,” you finally confessed, your voice wavering. “It’s just...everything has changed so quickly.”

Nicholas stepped closer, his eyes glimmering with concern. “You’re not making sense. I don’t understand what’s going on in your head, but it hurts to feel like you don’t want to share that with me.”

His words cut deeper than any shattering argument. You felt exposed and raw, and yet, in his gaze, you saw the remnants of the love you once felt so confident about. “You want to build a life together, Nicholas,” you said, trying to keep your tone even, but the tremor was there no matter how hard you fought against it. “You want a family, and I...I don’t want that. Not now, not ever.”

“What do you mean?” he questioned, his voice deepening with disbelief. “You never told me this. I always thought—” The weight of his words hung heavy, full of memories and dreams you once shared. He paused, swallowing hard as he looked away, as if seeking some kind of answer in the shadows of the room.

“You always thought I’d be the mother of your children,” you echoed, the bitterness you felt welling at the back of your throat. “So did I. But things don’t always turn out the way we plan, do they?”

His expression twisted with a mixture of hurt and confusion. “Why do you feel the need to shut me out? This isn't just about you. This is about us. Don’t you see how much you’ve changed and how much I care?”

“I just can’t think about that now!” you exclaimed, feeling the bubbling turmoil spilling over. “Life is messy. It's scary, Nicholas! I’m terrified, and I don’t want to repeat the mistakes that were made with me. I don’t even want—”

“Then what do you want?” he pressed, his frustration mounting, but his eyes softened, a glimmer of fear sparking behind them. “Tell me what you want. Do you want to be with me? Can we talk about this?”

“I don’t...” You hesitated, the internal battle raging loudly in your mind. You wanted to collapse into his arms and cry until there was nothing left, but each time you attempted to find the words, your throat constricted, as if afraid of the truth spilling out. The thought of his disappointment crushed you further, and the rawness of your own feelings cut deeply.

With a defeated breath, he whispered, “You know how much I love you, right? You’re my everything. I just always thought… I thought we were on the same path.” He looked down, and you could see the shadows of his dreams fading behind the weight of your words.

Panic clawed at your chest. You’d never intended to destroy the future he envisioned, but here you were, standing among jagged edges and broken pieces of trust.

“I thought you’d be the one to help me build a family,” he murmured, barely audible, his voice thick with emotion. You saw the hurt in his expression, and somewhere in that pain, you felt the truth of your own: you were losing him.

With that realization clawing at your heart, he turned away, moving toward the door again, each step reverberating with a heavy finality. “I need some air,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I can’t do this right now.”

In that moment, as you watched him walk away, the silence between you felt unbearable. You fell back against the cold counter, wrapped in a cocoon of guilt—but your mind spun in chaos, unable to clarify the thoughts clamoring for attention. You were afraid of losing him, yet still lost in your own shadows.

And between you and Nicholas, the door closed, sealing away all the words that now felt too heavy to utter.

The air in the room was heavy, thick with anticipation and unsaid words. You stood at the window, staring out at the dimming sky, the fragments of dusk spilling hues of orange and purple across the horizon. Each fleeting moment echoed your racing heartbeat, the silent battle raging within. Nicholas sat across the room, observing you with an intensity that made your heart clench. How had things escalated so quickly? One moment, you were weaving dreams of a future together, and the next, you'd shattered all that with a single sentence.

"Marriage is overrated and meaningless," you had said, and in return, you'd seen the light dim in Nicholas's eyes, the shock and hurt etched across his features like an unwelcome painting. Now, silence loomed around you, oppressive and thick, making it nearly impossible to breathe.

You turned away from the window, taking a step towards him, your feet heavy with uncertainty. Nicholas's expression remained guarded, a portrait of hurt and confusion, as if he were still trying to shield himself from the blow you'd dealt. But you couldn’t maintain the façade of indifference any longer. The truth clawed at your insides, begging for release.

"Nicholas," you began, your voice trembling. "I—"

He lifted his hand to silence you gently. “Please, just let me speak.”

So you fell silent again, heart racing as you waited for him to find the right words. He took a deep breath, and you could see the struggle behind his calm exterior.

“You shut me out, and I—” he hesitated, a shudder of emotion flitting across his face. “I thought you were my partner, but suddenly, I feel like I don’t even know you.”

You felt a swift pang of guilt. How could you expect him to understand? The words you wanted to speak slid around inside your mind like fish in a bucket, eluding you—but the truth was surfacing, rising, clawing its way out as you felt the weight of these hidden fears.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice was quieter now, softened by the weight of his pain. “I thought we were on the same page. I pictured us having a family together, sharing our lives… You never mentioned this.”

“I was afraid,” you confessed, the small admission at the tip of your tongue suddenly relieving. “Afraid of what you’d think of me.”

“Of what? You can tell me anything. I’m here, I love you,” he said, his voice almost pleading, and in his eyes, you saw the glimmer of hope, the raw sincerity of someone who was struggling to piece this puzzle together.

“I don’t want to be a failure,” you said, the words tumbling from your lips before you could catch them. You could see Nicholas’s confusion deepen, but you pressed onward, feeling the dam within you begin to crack. “I grew up watching my mother, who was supposed to be my protector, but she was… twisted. Emotional scars… they don’t heal easily, and I’m terrified of becoming her.”

Nicholas remained silent, his eyes widening with concern. The deeper you delved, the closer you felt to that dark recess of your past—unprocessed memories of chaos and confusion. “You know I struggled with depression,” you admitted, your throat tightening, “and I’ve read how that increases the risk of postpartum depression. It’s terrifying.”

As his expression shifted from confusion to understanding, you felt an odd sense of relief. “I don’t want to bring kids into this world and hurt them the way she hurt me. What if I can’t control it? What if I can’t be what they need?”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you felt vulnerable, yet somehow lighter. Nicholas remained quiet, absorbing the weight of your fears, filtering through the chaos you shared.

“Please, say something.” You could hardly bear the silence. The truth of your feelings had surfaced, and now, you needed him to meet you there.

“That makes sense,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wish I’d known sooner. But I’m here, and I don’t want to pressure you into anything. I love you for you, and I want what makes you happy. We can face this together.”

His words reached out to you, digging around the rawness you felt and slowly stitching it back together. The flutter of panic that had threatened to consume you began to ease, though the scars remained, raw but acknowledged.

“I want you to know that you're not destined to repeat any cycle,” he said softly, closing the space between you, his hands reaching for yours. “Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. You’re not alone in this.”

Tears streamed quietly down your face as you felt an unexpected warmth envelop you. The release of your fears had opened a door, one you’d thought was locked forever. You took a shaky breath, touched by his understanding, and nodded in silent appreciation.

“You’ll be an amazing mother if that’s what you choose, and I know that,” he continued, voice steady, “but I want you to choose it for the right reasons—not because of fear dictating your decisions.”

His touch felt like home, and you leaned into him, finally free to be vulnerable, shedding the layers you had clutched onto for so long. You didn’t realize how much you craved this connection until it enveloped you.

“What a relief,” you murmured against his shoulder, and you felt him relax against you.

As the two of you stood there, bound by shared secrets and the promises of understanding, it became clear that while the future may still remain uncertain, you had taken the first brave step in facing it together. Yet, deep down, you knew the path was still long, unfurling ahead of you like the dimming light of the outside world.

But for now, you were not alone. The chapter was still unwritten, but a flicker of hope danced softly in the shadows.

You sit across from Nicholas, your heart pounding in your chest, the weight of your confession still hovering in the air like a thick fog. Tears glimmer in your eyes, but the raw honesty you’ve just shared brings to life an entirely different kind of fear—fear of his reaction. The silence between you feels heavy, as if the world has paused, awaiting his response. You can barely breathe, the anticipation hanging like an unspoken promise.

Nicholas shifts in his seat, his expression unchanging for a moment that feels like an eternity. He looks deeply into your eyes, searching not just for what you’ve voiced, but for all the fears and insecurities that still linger unspoken. His brow furrows as his mind processes the layers of your confession, the vulnerability laid bare between you.

Finally, he exhales softly, the breath escaping him like a gentle wave retreating back into the ocean. “I…I had no idea,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m so sorry you felt you had to carry this alone.” His tone is tender, and you can sense the sincerity woven through his words.

You blink, trying to hold back more tears. The empathy in his voice warms your heart, yet guilt creeps in, gnawing at you for the burdens you've placed on him without sharing. You have kept this hidden for so long, convinced that being strong meant being silent. In his gaze, you see not just the hurt, but an earnest desire to understand.

“I wish you had told me sooner,” Nicholas continues, his expression softening as he brushes a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve come to recognize. “But I understand why it was difficult for you.” There’s a longing in his voice, an ache for connection, and you can’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

“I was scared you would leave,” you admit, the words spilling out. “I thought if I could just pretend, maybe it wouldn't become a problem.” You feel exposed, both terrified and relieved as you unearth the truth. “I didn’t want to disappoint you… or lose you.”

Nicholas reaches across the table, his hand finding yours, warm and grounding. He squeezes gently, breaking through the walls of tension that once surrounded you both. “You could never disappoint me. I love you too much for that,” he assures you, his voice calm and steady, a lighthouse guiding you through the stormy sea. “This is a journey we can take together, however long it needs to be.”

His words ebb the tide of your fears, and you watch as a soft resolve spreads across his features. “You’re not alone, and you don’t have to go through this by yourself,” he continues, his grip tightening reassuringly. “We’ll figure this out, step by step, together.”

Your heart swells, a mix of relief and gratitude washing over you, but doubt still lingers like a shadow at the back of your mind. “But what if I can’t overcome this?” you ask, your voice trembling as uncertainty floods in once more. “What if…I’m really not meant to be a mother?”

Nicholas’s gaze intensifies, a fierce protection enveloping his eyes. “That’s not true,” he says firmly. “You’re not your mother. You’re stronger than that, and I know you can break the cycle.” His voice is a balm, soothing the wounds you've carried for so long. “We can learn. We can seek help if you need it. You could even talk to a therapist with me… whatever you need.”

His willingness to tread into those uncharted waters with you ignites a spark of hope, yet your heart weighs heavy as a sense of fragility looms between you. “You really mean that?” you ask, your voice a whisper, almost fearfully fragile.

“Absolutely,” he nods, his tone reassuringly steady. “The love I have for you isn’t conditional on motherhood or marriage. It's about us, our connection, our partnership. And I’m not going anywhere.” He looks deep into your eyes, his resolve unwavering. “We’ll face whatever comes, together.”

The intensity of his promise warms your chest, pouring light into the dark corners of your fear. Nicholas’s breath mingles with yours as the distance that once felt insurmountable begins to fade with every reassuring word. You feel something shift in your heart, like the first thaw of spring after a long winter.

Overwhelmed with emotion, you lean in closer, until your foreheads almost touch. The warmth of his presence envelopes you, easing the tension that has knotted your heart for days. You take in the tangible sense of togetherness, feeling more at ease than you’ve felt in a long time.

But as you search his eyes, uncertainty lingers still—a flicker of concern reflecting back at you. “You know, even if we decide to have kids one day, it will take time for me to be ready—if I ever truly am. I don’t want you to wait for something that may never happen,” you confess, your heart aching with vulnerability.

Nicholas pauses for a moment, the weight of your words settling between you like a soft blanket. “I’d rather wait for you than rush into a decision that doesn’t feel right,” he responds, his voice filled with patience and understanding. The kindness in his eyes tells you that he truly means it, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you begin to believe that maybe you could share this journey of self-discovery together.

As the two of you sit in silence, the noise of the outside world fades into the background. In that stillness, you realize that the road ahead may not be easy, but holding onto each other through it offers a kind of comfort you’ve never truly experienced before. Nicholas’s presence feels like home, and with that thought, you draw a breath deep into your lungs.

The chapter ends with Nicholas pulling you into a comforting embrace. Lost in his warmth, the realization washes over you: although fear still lingers, it no longer feels insurmountable. Together, you can navigate the unknown, one step at a time.

The air felt different between you and Nicholas in the days following your heartfelt confession. The emotional storm that had raged in your hearts for what felt like an eternity was finally beginning to calm, but the residue of tension lingered like a faint, stubborn smell—too subtle to pinpoint, yet always there. You could almost see the invisible threads tethering you two together, slowly being rewoven, one earnest conversation at a time.

Nicholas had become a constant presence beside you, both a pillar of support and a gentle nudge urging you to confront your fears. The warmth of his hand on your shoulder, the soft, understanding glances he tossed your way when you faltered, made you feel safer. The distance had shrunk, but trust was a fragile thing, one that required careful nurturing.

It started on a Monday evening. The sun dipped low in the sky, casting a golden hue through the small kitchen window and wrapping you both in a soft glow. You were in the midst of organizing the clutter on the counter—a resurrected pile of bills and unwritten grocery lists that had become a silent witness to your distraction over the past few weeks. Nicholas stood nearby, stirring a pot of simple pasta, the unmistakable aroma of simmering garlic wafting through the air.

“Hey,” he called softly, breaking the silence that had become comfortable in its own right. “What do you think about planning a little getaway this weekend? Just you and me. Somewhere quiet.”

You turned toward him, the rhythm of your thoughts disrupted. “A getaway? Like… a vacation?” The notion stirred a note of excitement within you that had long been dormant. The idea of distancing yourselves from the daily grind—of seeking solace together—sparked a flicker of hope.

Nicholas nodded, his expression earnest. “Someplace where we can talk, be open. I think we both need a little time to breathe, to focus on each other.”

Feeling a rare swell of emotion, you put down the bill you had been sorting through. “You really think it would help?” There was a hint of disbelief in your voice, as if you had almost forgotten the two of you could enjoy simple pleasures together amidst the chaos of your emotions.

“Absolutely. Just you and me. And maybe some nature, fresh air, and absolutely no distractions,” he replied, a knowing smile stretching on his face. “We can figure things out together. No pressure.”

You glanced at the pot of pasta simmering away; the steam rising was almost hypnotic. But between each soft putter of the boiling water, you felt the pull of uncertainty—a reminder of the fears that still loomed, like shadows in the background. “What if we focus so much on talking that we end up pushing each other away again?” The doubt slipped out before you could rein it in.

Nicholas sighed softly, placing the wooden spoon down on the counter. He turned to face you fully, allowing the playful banter to fade into the realm of sincerity that had become your new norm. “It’s part of healing, isn’t it? We can’t avoid the tough conversations forever.”

Looking into his eyes, which sparkled not just with love but also with a determination to work through this together, you could see how deeply this mattered to him. Your insecurities waged war inside you, and still, the thought of turning away from that possibility sent a wave of panic crashing through.

“Okay,” you agreed, your voice steadying with resolve. “Let’s do it. A weekend away sounds perfect.” A tentative smile grazed your lips, igniting a glimmer of excitement. Perhaps this was the step you both needed.

As the week rolled by, the anticipation of your weekend getaway began to thaw the lingering frost in your relationship. Each night, you and Nicholas shared small glimpses of normalcy—watching your favorite shows, cooking together, and sometimes, just sitting side by side in silence, the once-painful quiet now a source of comfort.

The more open your conversations became, the more you began to reflect on what had once driven a wedge between you. You realized how easy it had been to retreat into yourself, a learned reaction rooted in your past disappointments. With Nicholas, though, you found safety in honesty—a revelation that came like a dawn after a long, dark night.

On Friday evening, you guys piled into the car with a playful mix of excitement and nervous energy. The road stretched before you like an unwritten story, your destination a small cabin nestled in the woods, just far enough away from bustling city life for you to truly escape. As you drove, Nicholas took your hand, intertwining your fingers—a simple gesture that sent warmth coursing through you.

“Just you and me,” he repeated, glancing at you with a soft smile that spoke volumes. The trees gradually transformed from a blur to individual silhouettes with each passing mile—stories waiting to be told, mysteries to unravel.

When you finally arrived, the cabin stood sturdily against the backdrop of towering pines and a rapidly darkening sky. It felt like a hidden treasure, a safe harbor from the storms that had threatened to destroy everything you held dear. Stepping inside, the scent of cedar enveloped you, mingled with a crackling fire that flickered warmly in the stone fireplace.

As you settled into the space, the initial thrill of the getaway settled into a tender stillness. You sat on the couch, the warmth of the fire playing along the walls as Nicholas draped an arm around you. “Here’s to new beginnings,” he toasted, raising an imaginary glass. Laughter bubbled from your lips—an echo of familiarity, the joy somewhat striking in its discomfort after the recent storm.

The evening unfurled like a blanket, soft, reassuring. Comforted by the gentle sounds of the wilderness outside, you found the courage to engage in small talk that danced around deeper fears. “I’ve been thinking about therapy,” you admitted quietly as you both watched the flames flicker.

“Really? I think that’s a great idea,” Nicholas said, his voice encouraging as he leaned closer. “And I’d love to go with you. I want to be part of your journey in any way I can.”

His words resonated like a soothing lullaby, and for the first time in ages, you didn’t feel the walls closing in. The conversation turned to lighter topics—memories, holiday plans, and silly dreams. And amid the laughter, you realized that rebuilding trust didn’t just stem from big declarations—it thrived in the everyday moments, the tenderness shared in glances and gestures.

As the night deepened, ultimately it became clear: fear and love could coexist, but it was how you navigated the waters between them that defined your journey. Slowly, you began to understand that while you didn’t have all the answers, the effort to communicate was your most significant step forward.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the sprawling beach. Waves lapped softly at the shoreline, their rhythmic cadence soothing the remnants of tension that had once gripped your heart. You walked along the sands, hand in hand with Nicholas, each step feeling lighter than the last. It was a picturesque scene—one that felt vibrant and alive—much like the renewed connection you both shared.

“How perfect is this?” Nicholas broke the silence, glancing at you with a smile that lit up his face. His eyes sparkled with the same warmth as the setting sun, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“It is,” you replied, letting the gentle breeze ruffle your hair. It was moments like this that reminded you how far you’d come. The ocean stretched endlessly before you, mirroring the vast possibilities of the future laid out ahead.

Nicholas paused, pulling you closer as you walked. His presence felt reassuring, grounding. You had spent countless sleepless nights processing your fears, the weight of your mother’s shadow looming large. Yet here you were, finally facing those insecurities, hand in hand with someone who promised to navigate the unknown by your side.

“Can you believe how much has changed since our fight?” Nicholas asked, his tone hinting at disbelief, yet filled with hope.

You could hardly believe it yourself. The storm that had once threatened to capsize your relationship now felt like a distant memory—something you had survived together, anchored in honesty and understanding.

“What we talked about… it’s not gone, but it doesn’t feel as terrifying anymore,” you confessed. “I think facing it head-on made it easier to breathe.”

Nicholas nodded thoughtfully, his fingers tightening around yours. “I’m just glad we’re both willing to talk about it. Can you imagine how different things would be if we didn’t have that conversation?”

You shuddered at the thought. The idea of burying your fears, of risking silence over honesty, felt suffocating. “I know I was scared to share my feelings before,” you began, looking up at him. “But your reaction…it changed everything for me.”

His eyes softened at your words. “I’m always here for you. It’s just a matter of finding the right way to open up. I wanted to be supportive but didn’t know how. I never want you to feel like your fears make you less deserving of love.”

There was a richness to his voice that filled you with warmth. Nicholas had done more than express his love—he had actively opened the door to healing. Knowing that he was here to buoy you through those moments of despair allowed you to cultivate hope.

With the sun now sinking lower, the sky was ablaze with color—blues and violets mixing with the fading gold of the day. You settled down on a nearby blanket laid out earlier, creating a cozy spot to watch the world’s beauty unfold. Nicholas joined you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, his presence an anchor in a world that often felt chaotic.

“What if we made it a tradition?” he suggested, gazing out at the water, which glistened in the dimming light like thousands of diamonds scattered across the surface. “Coming here, whenever we need a reset. Just you and me.”

You smiled at the thought, imagining countless sunsets shared together, a space ever filled with laughter and honesty. “I love that idea. It’s like a reminder that we can always come back to each other.”

Nicholas turned to face you, his expression earnest. “And we’ll continue to talk, to share. About everything. There’s no shame in discussing our fears. Sometimes they’ll deepen but others, like with kids… it’s no longer just a ‘what-if’ if we approach it together. It’s just a matter of time.”

The thought made your heart race, fluttering with both excitement and lingering fear. “I want that, but it terrifies me still.”

It’s okay to feel that way,” he assured you, his gaze steady. “What’s important is that we’re growing together. We won’t rush anything—but we both know facing that chapter when we’re ready, together, is what counts.”

That sense of mutual understanding allowed a certain relief to wash over you. Navigating the future felt less like a solitary journey through treacherous waters and more like a gentle drift under the stars, together in a small boat.

“I never thought I would feel this way,” you admitted softly. “About children, about us. That I could come to terms with my past while looking forward to what’s ahead, no matter what it looks like.”

Nicholas smiled, his warmth radiating through you as his thumb gently stroked your arm. “You’re not destined to repeat your mother’s mistakes. You’re stronger than you realize. Whatever route we take, I promise to be alongside you. You’ll never be alone in this.”

The final flush of sunlight dipped below the horizon, the twilight wrapping you both in a cocoon of soft shadows. You leaned your head against Nicholas’s shoulder, comforted by his promise and knowing that trust had been rebuilt through vulnerability.

“Let’s make plans,” you said suddenly, a surge of bravery rising within you. “Not just about kids but about us. Let’s talk about where we see our lives heading—the little things we can do to nurture our love.”

Nicholas’s eyes twinkled with excitement. “Absolutely. Maybe we can start with that cooking class you mentioned or exploring some new trails for hiking?”

“Or finding a place together!” you proposed, a giddy anticipation bubbling inside.

The possibilities felt endless, a blank canvas primed for new experiences. In that moment, everything shifted—the uncertainty you once feared began to fade, replacing it with eagerness and hope.

As you both made tentative plans for the future, a sense of exhilaration enveloped you. You grasped his hand tighter, feeling the warmth of connection both profound and palpable.

You realized, perhaps for the first time, that the future was not just a timeline filled with uncertainties; it was a landscape you would cultivate together, day by day, moment by moment.

Nicholas pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you as the last traces of daylight disappeared. Together, you stared out into the darkening sea, where the stars began to twinkle overhead. No longer on the precipice of fear, you knew deep within that you would face whatever came—together, always.

In that tranquil embrace, you felt a swell of gratitude wash over you. For love. For trust. For new beginnings. As the waves rolled in softly beneath the starlit sky, you held onto hope tightly and realized:

Your journey was only just beginning.

[sv5hive]

c'est toujours toi | cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

content warning(s): mixture of my bad french and google translate bcos in 5 years of learning that language i didn't pick up anything useful (if anyone wants to suggest any improvements please do!!)

word count: 951

note: i had to rewrite this 3 times bcos i didn't like it and it's past midnight again. help.

(masterlist!)

darkness encapsulated the room before a video flickered onto the screen and the guests fell silent. a sense of familiarity filled you as you realised just what you were about to watch.

"maman, arrête! c'est bon!" (mum, stop! it's fine!)

the boy pushed his mothers hands away trying to adjust his clothes.

"d'accord! mais c'est ton mariage." (ok! but it's your wedding.)

as much as the woman wanted to take her son seriously, she couldn't help but laugh at the situation.

they were enjoying a picnic in the park as a family when their three sons decided to go wander off and give their parents some relief. it hadn't even been fifteen minutes when their middle child had come tumbling back towards them saying that he was going to get married.

they had almost laughed but the boy was showing no hint of amusement on his face. it was then that their two other children returned with a little girl wearing a pink dress in the middle of them. once they reached them, the boy introduced her.

"c'est ma petite amie!" (this is my girlfriend!) he proudly showed her off to his parents as if to prove a point that he wasn't just telling tales this time.

his parents simply stared at the pair in disbelief and shock.

a tiny, almost inaudible, "bonjour" came from the girl as she fiddled with the hem of her dress. they could barely hear her over the birds chirping.

"charles! tu ne peux pas faire ça. où sont ses parents?" (charles! you can't do that. where are her parents?) his mother wasted no time in scolding the three boys for taking the girl away from her family.

before anyone else could reply, the girl came to their defence.

"mes parents sont à la maison. désolé de vous inquiéter, madame leclerc, mais on peut se marier maintenant?" (my parents are at home. sorry to worry you, mrs. leclerc, but can we get married now?)

"tu es sûre que, chérie? charles est un garçon très désordonné!" (are you sure, darling? charles is a very messy boy!)

"papa!" the boy blushed at his father embarrassing him for fun.

"je vais lui apprendre à ranger, ne vous inquiètez pas!" (i'll teach him how to clean up, don't worry!)

the two adults went along with the plans to make them happy and began preparing for an impromptu wedding as best they could. his father would walk her down the aisle, his younger brother would be his best man while his older brother would be the officiant, and his mother would record the special occasion on their camera.

an imitation of 'here comes the bride' was attempted and although it was pretty much unrecognisable, you could take a well educated guess given the circumstances. the boy's father leaned down to hold the girl's hand as he walked her down the makeshift aisle with daisies and buttercups sprinkled over the grass. she whispered a quiet "merci" and soon enough the bride and groom were face to face with each other.

the older boy quickly stepped into his improvised role of the officiant with what little knowledge he had and introduced the few guests to the ceremony. after all the formalities, it was finally time for vows.

"je promets de toujours t'aimer comme ma maman et mon papa. je jouerai avec toi tous les jours et te donnerai tous mes jouets." (i promise to always love you like my mum and dad. i will play with you every day and give you all my toys.)

the boy reached out to hold the girl's hands and bumbled through his vows which only included everything that was important to him, of course.

the girl blushed and went ahead with her vows which were just as innocent and clumsy as his were.

"je promets de t'aider à nettoyer tes bêtises et de vous soutenir lorsque vous deviendrez pilote de course!" (i promise to help you clean your messes and support you when you become a racing driver)

despite only having met an hour beforehand, the two had clearly bonded and learnt much about each other.

"vous pouvez maintenant embrasser la mariée!" (you may now kiss the bride!)

cheers erupted as the boy took a brave step forward and pecked the girl's cheek to her pleasant surprise.

whistles and claps echoed through the room from your family and friends as the screen faded to black and the lights were switched back on. the reception was just starting and the guests had left their tables to eat, dance and mingle. the bittersweet nostalgia had brought tears to your eyes and you had to blink them back to be able to see clearly. you couldn't believe you had forgotten the day you two met.

you were brought back down to earth when you felt a hand squeeze yours.

"tu va bien, ma chérie?" (are you okay, darling?)

you turned to the man beside you and squeezed his hand back before replying.

"ouais, mon amour. je ne pourrais aller mieux. regarde comme on était petit!" (yes, my love. i couldn't be better. look how little we were!)

charles laughed and kissed your temple. sometimes he found it hard to believe how lucky he was to find you that day. he found it even harder to believe that you two were finally married now. after years of friendship and not so secretly pining for each other, he had finally been bold enough to make a move.

"dès que je t'ai vu, j'ai su que j'allais t'épouser. c'est toujours toi, mon trésor." (as soon as i saw you, i knew i was going to marry you. it's always you, my treasure.)

[battlemaiden13]

Have this idea for a Wine x Reader (or OC) story. It’s very cliche but it has been swirling in my head for days:

Monsters emerge but their relationships with the humans are strained the Queen of monsters and the Young Human King make a deal to solidify the monsters status above ground and the humans get the military power of the monsters through a mariage. 

The queen offers her Marquess, the head of her military and a ‘trusted’ advisor Wine. The human king offers his ‘beloved’ sister the princess. And the two are forced to marriage. It’s clear early that the princess was abused and holds no power, she was given as a sacrifice same as Wine. 

Now they could fall in love from here, overthrow the human king and take that thrown through wits and cleverness while appeasing the monster queen but I have another layer! 

The human princess has been reincarnated, this is her second time living through this marriage that was loveless (or so she thought) the first time, ending in her tragic death by the hands of her cold husband. This time she’s determined to live, she has some fight, she draws out the love that Wine has for her the first time and Her knowing the future helps her stop the awful events that once unfolded until she lives a happy life with the man who once killed her. 

AHHH I know, very clique but it is eating my brain so now it can eat your too.

[abyssalfaith]

Hello and Happy Holidays! I was wondering do you know what Synastry or Composite aspects & overlays indicate being very attached at the hip? To the point that it might seem very odd to see one without the other?? "We're a packaged deal"// "Hey, where's your shadow?"// "You guys are just two peas in a pod"// "With us you get a two for one special" Kind of energy/vibe. Thank you for your time, and hope that there is plenty of Holiday joy and cheer for you and your loved ones!

Hi, thank you for question :) I do hope you enjoy this holiday season too !

I'll divide it in two parts :

:) House synastry :

6th house : this house is an everyday and routine house. When one person have inner planet into another person 6th house, both will consider each other as a part of their routine. This is a very platonic synastry (even tho it can be romantic), but for me it's the "attached by the hip" placement because life feel easy with each other, they feel like home, it's natural.

7th house : This is a more romantic placement, but it can be platonic true. It's especially true with Vénus and Moon in this house. This house is about contract but also about very close relationship (it's for both of these reason that we associate it with mariage.). The difference with the 6th house : with the 6th ouse synastry, you both egt into the routine of the other, either you want it or not. With the 7th house, you WANT it, it's like begging to actually to be attached to their hips.

Planet (and lilith) synastry :

Moon conjunct moon : emotionnally involved relationship, feel like mental fusion, easy to be with the other.

Opposition of signs : just from my experience = I once had a friend with whom I had 3 oppositions : he had sun venus and mercury in aquarius and mine were in leo. We were always together for random sh*t, everybody were always like : "oh ! here come the twins !". It's really about the opposite attract.

Planets in the first house : not so considered placement in platonic synastry, but this one make the whole sense of self of one person merge with the ego, love, action of the other... you feel yourself throught the other.

North node in the 6th house, 1th house, 11th house : life karma and mission into the house of ego, every day life and social circle... Do I have to explain ?

I really hope I helped you :) Happy holidays :)

Love, Abyssal Faith

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for "defending a pedo"

tw for pedophilia and child abuse

(⬆️ to find later)

this happened while ago

i (20F) was talking to a friend about weird life experiences. i was just returned from visiting my grandparents so i told the story about the neighbor that i had there

for context: i live in eastern europe, and for most of my childhood i lived back and forth between the city and the countryside. the countryside in the region im from and this particular village is tough. im talking no running water/ the toilet is in back yard, only one house out of 5 has an internet connection, child labour on the fields, the only school went up to only 8th grade, etc. not the most remote of villages but far far off any "modern society" standards.

during the half of the year where i was at my grandparents up until i was around 12, I had a neighbor my age that i used to play with. she was significantly poorer than us, objectively. while my grandparents allowed me to play with her, they wouldn't like me going to her house instead because of the living conditions. i have gotten fleas from her before and in general the smell and conditions. they also didn't like her because she would try to steal stuff, so i wasn't ever allowed to invite her inside, but they've gotten over this because she was just a kid. her father passed when we were young and her mother is a severe alcoholic and just an abusive monster. she was mostly taken care off by her godmother while her mother beat her, stole her allowance, sent her off to work to the neighbors and do a lot of chores kids shouldnt do etc. before you say "why didnt anyone call child protective services" read again the context this was all happening in. we did our best to help her, once i stopped going to my grandparents we'd ocasionally send her my old clothes that didn't fit me anymore bc her mother refused to buy her clothes. it was geniunely heartbreaking to see because she tried her best to be loved by her mother and to help her. trying to buy her gifts, to be obedient, to take more of the workload, etc.

as i started properly living in the city (500km away) we drifted apart heavily. we simply lived such complete different lives it was hard to talk to her about anything outside of basic niceties. i still cared about her, she is smart and geniunely pushed so hard to go to highschool in the nearest city which is 20km away despite her mother. she was always positive and optimistic and had an insane work ethic. i respected her and wished she had gotten the privilege i had of leaving the village and getting a life in the city but alas.

here's where the "conflict" is: when i was 18 (and she was too) i have heard from my grandparents that she's pregnant. they mentioned it off in passing so i asked them to elaborate bc that was complete news to me. they elaborated that when she was (i think) 17 she met this guy who was 26, they became a couple, and now they waited until she was of legal age to get married. and now she's pregnant. then they told me some stuff that happened pre-mariage, more of her mother's abuse and the likes. they also mention having met the guy and he seemed like he geniunely cared about my neighbor

i felt conflicted on this. on one hand, the age gap is fucked up plain and simple. on the other hand, she finally had her ticket to escape from her mother and her life and to move to the city and i was happy for her. on the other, being pregnant at 18 is insane to me. on the other hand, despite the grossness of the age gap, if the guy is decent its still better than what she would've dealt with if she stayed even longer with her mother. this year, while visiting my grandparents, she came over to visit with her kid and husband and we talked. she seemed geniunely happy. the guy is nice, the kid is healthy, love and pampered, and she finally has some meat on her bones and color in her face. i obviously dont know and cant know what their life is like in the privacy of their own home but compared to the girl i knew before all of this she was doing a lot better. she started a cosmotology school and is soon going to start working. im happy for her, i wish she didnt have to end up being pregnant and married at 18, but i was still happy for her.

everything i said here i told more or less verbatim to the friend i mentioned in the begining. their takeaway was that i was defending the actions of this guy, that i should be even more visibly digusted, and that i support abusive men because i didnt hate their relationship. i didnt know what to even reply to that, as they went off calling me disgusting, calling my village and culture that "allowed" this mariage to be socially acceptable "barbaric" and that i should've spoke up about it. i tried to reiterate my point and clarify that i am digusted by the age gap but the situation my neighbor in was so fucked that you couldnt really do much. they didn't reply, and i haven't heard from them since (idm, we were never really close)

but now im wonder. AITA for seeing this situation the way i do? should i have done more to help her or talk about it?

What are these acronyms?

[creative-heart]

Can I get more of your amazing fluffy fluff? 🥹 Whatever you want as long as it's Enzo (What else should it be for me, right?)

"DANCING IN THE MOONLIGHT"| ENZO VOGRINCIC

Lucia's notes: Hey my dearest! Today's your lucky day! I've been meaning to write this fluffy drabble for sweet Enzo, this kinda comes from my previous fic "Make a wish my darling" and from the song "like my father" by Jax. I really really hope you enjoy this!

Pairing: Enzo Vogrincic - Reader

Content Warning: None I think, this is just fluff.

Word Count: 570.

As Enzo and you stumble through the door to your shared apartment after the party, both slightly tipsy, one too many drinks had flowed your way at Pipe’s house, your shoes already in hand, your hair up in a messy bun; you set the things on your hands down by the front door and make your way to the kitchen to grab something to drink, but before you make it too far, your boyfriend wraps his hands around your waist pulling you back into his chest, your back flushed against his front as he peppers soft kisses on your exposed shoulder whispering in your ear “Can I have this dance chiquita?”.

You turn your head slightly to look at him as he’s never one to dance,but nod smiling and turn around in his arms “No music needed?” you ask merely above a whisper as you wrap your arms around the taller man’s neck. He smiles lazily still holding you close in his arms shaking his head as he starts swaying you both side to side softly. He’s holding you so close to his own body that you start to believe you’d merge into one if that were possible, but you couldn’t care less, you love being this close to him, your head finding its perfect spot on his chest over his heart, you could listen to the rhythmic thump all day long. 

You’ve been like this for what seems hours, until you hear Enzo’s voice softly whispering in your ear; “I am so lucky to have you in my life, you truly make me the happiest man on this earth, and I’d do everything and anything to see you smile every day of my life”. You feel your cheeks heat up with the soft blush, you may have been together for a few years now, but whenever this lovely man said anything this sweet to you, it was inevitable to feel the flutter in the pit of your stomach. You simply hum softly as to let him know you’re listening and keep your eyes closed, your fingers trailing up and down his arm as he continues with the musicless dancing. “You know I want to be this way our whole lives, I can’t wait to marry you, I’ll make it my life’s purpose to make you as happy as you can be, I’ll bring you flowers, or a sweet treat every day I go out, I promise to keep the dating even after we’re married”. He looks at you at the time you open your eyes to look at him.

“Did…did you just say mariage?” you whisper as you had never really talked about that seriously and smile tearing up looking into his eyes as you see him nod.

“Oh, not only that, I can’t wait to start a family with you, see you being pregnant, watch you become a mama, you’re gonna be the best at it, I can tell, hear the pitterpatter of little feet running around the house” he smiles and you just stand on your tiptoes to lock your lips on his into the most tender, loving, sweetest kiss you’ve shared this far. You know it, you know you can’t wait to spend the rest of your life with this man; here, at this very moment, dancing in the middle of your moonlit living room, you swear you could see the future painted out for you.

Lucia's notes: Due and HUGE thanks to my lovely lil sis @madame-fear who helped create these amazingly cute dividers, love you mimi!

Taglist:

@espinasrubi @candycanes19 @castawaycherry @cyliarys-starlight @luceracastro @koiibiito @nperoconelcositoarriba @lxdyred @deepinsideyourbeing

[nekomancersama]

My happy mariage 😘

[starrycosme]

Fanworks have rotted my mind to a point where anytime I think of a perfect, loving mariage, I think of the ineffable husbands... Then I remember actual canon and I cry.

No, but, listen- next season I need them to be happy, yeah. But, above all, I want them to be absolutely, disgustingly in love. Sure, there's a conflict, but it will be resolved and they'll have to talk it out. THEN I need them to make me throw up rainbows from the cuteness, from the tenderness and closeness.

I'm not even asking for another kiss (even though it would be good to compensate for the last one). I mean I want them to hug, and hold hands, and just hold each other. I want Crowley to call Aziraphale "Angel" again, and I want Aziraphale to call Crowley "my darling" or "my love" until the snek bursts into flames from the love overload. I want them to go have a picnic and buy a cottage by the seaside and just be together.

[ohhxdile]

Mysterious Man ☆ OS

∞ ₒ ˚ Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

⋆༶⋆˙⊹

Words: 793

Summary: Typical night for you working in a Tavern that is also an Inn. But tonight is different, there is a strange man in the corner of the room

Warnings: reader pov, use of medieval words, reader as an accent

(A/N: oh my god! i didn't expect my first fanfic to get attention, idk how to thank you all 💕😭)

⋆༶⋆˙⊹

I worked in this tavern for over years now. I’ve experienced many festivals, towns people's departure, new faces, mariage and even rivalry. We could call this quite the “experience”

But today was different, while a few drunk men were singing in the middle of the tavern, ripping their vocal cords and pouring ale on the floor. Messy customers that we didn’t really enjoy to serve, but they consumed the most. Something else was different. A blond-white haired man was sat at the corner of the tavern, a long black piece of linen covered his whole body, I couldn’t quite make out his apparence. 

The owner approached me while I was rearranging the barrels “The Witcher wants his pottage with boef” I stood up with a quirked eyebrow questioning him, he pointed quickly to the white-haired man. “Fine, sure” I sigh and put down the barrels I was occupied with, taking the wooden tray in my hand with the pottage and boeuf.

I walked to him and served him “Here is the pottage and boef, Mister asked” I took the empty vessel asking him if he wanted more to drink, he nodded and thanked me. I got to work and poured another drink for him.

Night was settling in, people were leaving, some bought a hall to sleep in. People were getting kicked out forcefully, typical day for a tavern that also works as an Inn.

My hands were sticky with all the type of ale and meals. I cleaned my hands while the owner cleaned a few vessels and plates. “Tonight was good” I smiled at him, when I turned my head, the empty barrels took my attention “Ah ya’ I forgot to refill them, Would ya please get the Pale Lager in the Undercroft?” I nodded and took in hand the empty Pale Lager and got working. I rummaged through all the cask, they were a lot of them, I quickly found the right one and filled in the empty cask. 

It was getting pretty cold in the tavern and I shivered a bit. Someone didn’t leave and It was the “Witcher” I quickly glanced at him and approached him “You’re leaving soon the village?” He raised his head at me and chuckled “I need to stay here for quite a while, people are asking me to solve a town problem.” His rough voice was like neumes to my ears, but soon after something bothered me in his sentence “a town problem?” I take a hold of his empty tankard and ask him “What? I never heard about a problem here before?” His eyebrows raised itself just like mines and we stared at each other.

Continuously we talk to one another, I understand what he means by “problem” there is a thief that is fliching money from ladies by making them buy deadly roses, what a complete disaster. I understood now why he would stay here for a while. “This is quite the story ya’ have” I chuckled to him and he shrugged off, raising his shoulders slightly. “It is my duty as a Witcher” The strange man was interesting, more than any menne I’ve meet along my years of working, he started ruffling through his piece of linen and gave me a sack of gold, I stared at him for approval and he made a sign with his hand. I opened the bag and counted the coins.

He had the perfect amount for the ale, pottage and boef he ate. I was pretty satisfied and thanked him. “My pleasure, the food here is gracious and the ale is smooth to the gullet” I blushed a bit, happy that he was satisfied. I took the bag of gold, content and walked to the owner giving him the coins.

Before leaving the Witcher came close to me, I looked up at him and he smiled, silence settled between us. I didn’t know what to say, but I was a tad busy with wipping the tables that I haven’t realised his eyes travelled around my figure. “Thank you again” I shrugged off his comment and said It was my pleasure. “I still haven’t asked your name” He mentionned and yes, I realised I never introduced myself to the stranger and I told him my name. 

He said my name, and the way It rolled on his tongue was mischievous I liked it. “My name is Geralt” I smiled hopping he wouldn’t see it since my head is lowered to the table in front of me. Suddenly dead silence and I lifted my head.

 Geralt was gone, he left the Inn with a souvenir and a warm welcome, and I was left with many questions in my mind and hoping that he would come back.

[prplocks]

♡☆♡ my happy mariage wallpaper

reblog if you save ▪︎

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[empiredesimparte]

Napoléon V: And my mother said "marriage tests your patience, you know" Charlotte: Is that true? Really?

Napoléon V: Not yours? Charlotte: Mine said "Charlotte I envy you, I wish I'd married such a handsome young man at your age"

Napoléon V (laughing): My God, I didn't want to know after all! Charlotte: My father started to grumble Napoléon V: Let's hope he'll smile again at the ceremony

Charlotte: Yes, he'll be smiling. He's delighted for us

Napoléon V: I know that my father would also be happy about our union, he's always had nothing but good things to say about you Charlotte: I didn't know. I am blessed then Napoléon V: Yes, Father would be proud of us both. We will do a lot for Francesim, I'm sure

⚜ Le Cabinet Noir | Palais des Tuileries, 20 Prairial An 230

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

The civil marriage ceremony is about to begin, and Napoléon V and his fiancée Charlotte join the Salon des Maréchaux.

⚜ Traduction française

La cérémonie du mariage civil va commencer, Napoléon V et sa fiancée Charlotte rejoignent le Salon des Maréchaux.

Napoléon V: Et ma mère a dit "le mariage éprouve la patience tu sais" Charlotte : C'est vrai? Sérieusement?

Napoléon V : Pas la tienne? Charlotte : La mienne a dit "Je t'envie, j'aimerais avoir épousé un aussi beau jeune homme à ton âge"

Napoléon V (rigole) : Mon Dieu, je ne voulais pas savoir tout compte fait! Charlotte : Mon père a tiré une de ses têtes! Napoléon V : Espérons qu'il reprenne sourire à la cérémonie

Charlotte : Oui, il sera souriant. Il est ravi pour nous

Napoléon V : Je sais que mon père serait également satisfait de notre union, il n'a toujours dit que du bien de toi Charlotte : Je l'ignorais. Je suis bénie alors Napoléon V : Oui, père serait fier de nous deux. Nous ferons beaucoup pour la Francesim, j'en suis persuadé

[ao3feed-piltovers-finest]

Burning Oil

by Luna_Monroe

“So,” she starts, stirring more sugar into her cup. “My daughter’s suitor is Demacian. We’ll go there if he likes the portrait.”

Vi adjusts herself in the uncomfortable seat, nodding as she waits for Cassandra to continue.

“Now, I have to tell you… she wore out one painter before you.”

Vi’s brow furrows. “How so?” She can’t keep the question at bay.

Cassandra looks down at her tea. “To put it simply, she refused to pose. He never saw her face.”

Vi sits up a little straighter, concern tightening her muscles.

“Why won’t she be painted, exactly?” The image of the smudged face barrages her, filling her vision with blue and gold.

“She refuses this mariage,” she replies sternly, lines etched along her brow. Cassandra glances up to her own wedding portrait before meeting Vi’s gaze again. “You must paint her without her knowing.”

OR: The Portrait of a Lady on Fire au

Words: 4418, Chapters: 1/7, Language: English

Fandoms: Arcane: League of Legends (Cartoon 2021)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F

Characters: Vi (League of Legends), Caitlyn (League of Legends), Cassandra Kiramman, Elora (Arcane: League of Legends), Vander (League of Legends), Jinx (League of Legends), Mel Medarda

Relationships: Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based on Portrait of a Lady on Fire, Explicit Sexual Content, Cunnilingus, Eventual Fluff, Slow Burn, but not really, painter!Vi, Heiress!Caitlyn, Arranged Marriage, Caitlyn and Vi are in Love (League of Legends), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Light Angst, Happy Ending

Read on A03. from AO3 works tagged ‘Caitlyn/Vi (League of Legends)’