#WE SHALL HAVE A COURTHOUSE WEDDING

[softhumpslut]

aww poor puppy is leaking everywhere, whining and crying, that dumb little cunnie needs daddy to fuck it stupid so you can be daddy's dumb airhead? are you so turned on you can't even speak, bunny? just wanna hump? can't speak but still so greedy to be fucked till you cry, hm? don't worry baby, daddy's gonna make sure your brain leaks out of you one orgasm at a time, well, what's left of it anyways...

[lee-laurent]

Under the Radar - Matthew Tkachuk

Summary: Matthew Tkachuk elopes with his secret lover, the biggest issue... she's Luke Hughes' twin sister.

Content: marriage, secret relationship, age gap (it's legal!!), angst, unsupportive family, mentions of sex, fighting, physical violence (not between couple!)

WC: 3.45k

notes: i listened to "Archie, Marry Me" by Alvvays on repeat while writing this and "Please Please Please" cause that's how freya feels about matt here lol i've been watching the stanley cup finals and my love for matt tkachuk has grown hehe enjoy!! :D obviously idk anyone in this story personally, so it's all for the drama !!

Freya giggled as Matthew placed kisses on her exposed shoulder. She was standing in front of the full body mirror in her boyfriend's room, flattening out the silky white dress that she'd chosen for the occasion. The white silk fell mid thigh and had small slit on the left side, a small bow adorned the corseted top.

"Fuck, you look stunning, love," Matt whispered in her ear, goosbumps forming on the back of her neck.

"I just need to do my hair, then we can head out," Freya smiled, giving Matthew a quick peck as she walked into his bathroom. He followed her, watching as she took the heated curling iron and spun a piece of her dirty blonde hair around it. After finishing some loose curls and setting them with hair spray, Freya did a once over in the mirror.

"What d'you think, Matty?"

"Hottest girl on this planet," he smirked, trailing kisses along her neck.

"Stop! We've gotta get to the courthouse."

"Right, right. But after..."

"Matt!"

"We've gotta consummate the marriage, Frey."

She giggled, hiding her face in his neck. He placed a kiss to her head, spinning her around so he could admire them in the mirror. She grabbed her phone, snapping a quick mirror pic.

"That one's getting framed," she nodded, zooming on her boyfriend's face.

"Are you sure you don't want me to shave? Just for the photos?" Matt offered.

"No! The scruff is soooo hot! Jess said we have to look hot for our photos!"

"Okay, okay. Can't believe Jess knows we're getting married, but our families don't."

"We'll tell them when it's time. Plus, Jess is good at keeping secrets."

That was true. Freya's best friend, Jessica, had been keeping the couple's relationship a secret for a year and a half now. The girls had met at University of Miami two years before and had been best friends ever since.

"You got your ring?" Matthew asked, placing the small velvet box in his suit jack.

"Yes, sir! I'm so excited!"

"Me too, baby. Can't wait for you to be Mrs. Tkachuk."

"Sounds so hot when you say it," she flirted, placing a hand on his lapel.

He winked, "Sit on the bed. I'll help you with your heels."

Freya complied, bouncing as she sat down. Matt grabbed the strappy, white heels from his closet. He guided her feet into them, gently doing up the buckles. She ran a hand through his hair, fixing it the way she liked it.

"Shall we, Future Mrs. Tkachuk?"

"We shall," she giggled, interlocking their arms as they walked to the parking garage.

"And Miss Hughes, do you take Matthew Tkachuk to be your lawfully wedded husband?" the man behind the counter asked.

"I do," she beamed, holding Matt's hands tightly in her own.

"Do you, Mr. Tkachuk, take Freya Hughes to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"You may now kiss the bride."

The couple met in a sweet kiss, not wanting it to be too long in the public courthouse.

"If you'll both just sign here and here," the man smiled, sliding the paper and pen towards the couple. "Pefect! You two are now legally married. Congratulations!"

Freya's smile was so wide, it hurt her cheeks. She was practically jumping as they exited the building. Matthew was smiling just as brightly, tightly gripping onto his wife's waist.

"Jess!" Freya exclaimed, throwing her arms around her best friend.

"There's Mrs. Tkachuk! Always knew you two would end up together, Frey. I've been telling you since we met," Jess whispered. Freya blushed, pushing her best friend.

"Let's go take some photos!" Matthew guided the girls into his car, driving them down to a small, very private park. They snapped some cute photos together, before Jess handed Freya a bottle of champagne. She shook it, spraying the alcohol all over herself and her husband. Jess got some amazing candids of the couple, especially as they met in a passionate kiss that she snapped a few shots of.

"Enjoy your wedding night!" Jess shouted, waving goodbye.

Freya couldn't stop giggling as they entered Matt's bedroom, "We're married! I'm married to the love of my life!"

"Did you chug a bunch of that champagne when I wasn't looking? Or are you just drunk on love?" Matt teased.

"Matt! We're married!"

"I know, love! Freya Tkachuk. God, that sounds so hot," his voice was gruff as he pulled her on top of him on the bed.

"I love you so much," she pressed kisses all over his face.

"I love you too, Frey. Now... shall we make this marriage official," he smirked, placing his hands on her hips.

"Any cute boys at school?" Ellen asked.

"What? No, Mom. I told you I'm focusing on my degree," Freya giggled, helping her mom to make dinner. They were at the cottage that Quinn and Jack had purchased. The Hughes family had invited the Tkachuks for a weekend and Freya was desperately trying to hide her excitement, having not seen her husband in just over a month.

"I know, I know. Just thought maybe some would've caught your eye. Who knows... maybe when Luke's friends come you'll find one of them cute."

"Mom!"

"Sorry, sorry. But, Luke told me that Dylan's little brother is single."

"MOM!"

Ellen laughed, continuing to cut up the fruit in front of her.

"We're home!" Quinn shouted, placing his keys in the bowl in the front hall. Ellen quickly wiped her hands off, running to meet their guests.

"Chantal! Keith! How've you been?"

The two families immediately started chatting away, Freya biting her lip when she saw Matt wink at her. She was pulled into a conversation with Chantal about school and if Matt had helped her out at all while living in Flordia.

"Oh, yeah. He always asks if I need anything. I even went to a few games first semester," she smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Look at that ring! So cute! Where'd you get it?" Taryn squealed.

"My best friend Jess bought it for me!" Freya lied. That was the excuse that the couple had come up with. Matt had 'bought his own ring' and 'Jess' had bought Freya's.

"It's beautiful! Could be a wedding ring!"

"Yeah. She's the best."

"You live with Jess?" Chantal asked.

"Yeah, yeah. We've lived together this past year."

"Before we get too far into conversation, let's show everyone their rooms," Ellen smiled, unknowingly saving Freya from crafting more lies.

After a dinner full of catching up, Matt and Freya sat around the fire with the rest of the kids. The adults had called it a night an hour before, but the young adults were still buzzing with excitement. Freya was clasping a seltzer between her hands, sitting between her twin and Taryn.

"No boyfriend?" Taryn asked, taking a sip of her White Claw.

"Hm? I'm too focused on school."

"Lukey's been trying to set her up with Tyler Duke, but she's not interested," Quinn snorted from beside Brady.

"He's just... not my type."

"Not your type? Tyler is like the definition of your type, Frey! Curly haired, hockey player? You'd marry him on the spot if you hadn't convinced yourself you're focused on your studies," Luke laughed.

Freya's eyes looked around the fire, meeting with Matt's, who had his eyebrow quirked.

"Tell us more about this Tyler kid," he mused, taking a long drink from his beer.

"He's a sophmore at Umich. Is madly in love with Freya and has been since I started doing hockey with Dylan. They even kissed when they were like 14."

"Luke! Stop!" Freya hid her face in her hands. Matthew looked unimpressed, chugging the rest of his beer, before cracking open another one.

"Maybe Freya doesn't like younger guys," Jack joked, making Matthew cover his smirk with his new drink.

"Can we stop talking about my love life? Please!"

"It's okay, Frey. Matt's is just as sad," Brady joked, patting his older brother on the back.

"What can I say? Baby brother got married before me, and all my hopes and dreams went down the drain," Matt retorted, staring directly at Freya. She swallowed harshly, now reaching for another drink. She couldn't do this sober.

After the awkward conversation about her love life, or lack there of, Freya was silent. She didn't want to accidentally say something to out the face that she was married at 20, especially with all the alcohol running through her system. It wasn't until the next day that things really went down hill.

Everyone was paying Quinn to get more alcohol for that night. Matt opened his wallet when a photo fell out, not noticing he fished out a ten dollar bill and handed it to the eldest Hughes. Luke bent down, grabbing the photo that had fallen on the floor. His brow furrowed as he studied the image. His sister in a Panthers jersey, her arms wrapped around a sweaty looking Matt.

"What's wrong, Rusty?" Jack laughed, "What's that?"

Luke handed the photo to his brother, who also took a moment to study it.

"Is that Freya?"

"What're we looking at?" Freya smiled, pushing her way between her brothers. Her face fell, "Where'd you get that?"

"Matt dropped it," Luke's eyes narrowed at his sister.

"Oh. Hm, that's... huh," she trailed off.

"Quinn! Come look at this!" Jack waved over his brother, who was chatting with Brady. Matt had disappeared off to the kitchen to talk to Jim.

"Why? Oh... Frey?" Quinn shot her a questioning look after being handed the photo.

"Why's everyone so upset? We're friends," she tried to smile.

"Then why's it in his wallet?" Luke sneered.

"Because... we're really good friends?" she shrugged, sounding unsure of herself.

Quinn huffed, pushing the photo into Jack's chest. He stormed off to the kitchen, followed by the rest of the kids. He harshly pushed Matt, making the taller boy stumble.

"Wow. What the hell, Quinn?" Matt turned around.

"You're fucking my little sister?! She's barely legal, Matthew! And you're fucking 26!"

"Quinn," Ellen warned, but her son didn't listen. He pushed Matt again, this time getting a shove in return.

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but you need to calm the fuck down," Matt attempted to keep his composure, knowing he could easily overpower the Hughes' boy.

"Don't even pretend to be innocent! You've been sleeping with Freya!"

"Freya? What's Quinn talking about, dear?" Ellen asked, moving away from the boys.

"I- I don't know, Mom."

"Bullshit! Look at this, Mom!" Jack handed the photo over. Ellen looked it over, a confused expression covering her face. She met Freya's pleading eyes, biting her bottom lip.

The fight between Quinn and Matt was escalating. After a particularly harsh push from Quinn, Matthew tackled him to the floor. The kitchen broke out into hysterics. Everyone was shouting, telling the boys to stop. Freya had started to cry, Taryn holding onto her tightly. Even if Taryn was a little upset she didn't know about her childhood friend's relationship with her brother, she was still going to support her.

"Enough!" Jim's voice broke through the noise, he and Keith wrangled Mattew off Quinn. "Everyone in the living room, now!"

Freya stood next to Taryn, her shoulders shaking with sobs. Quinn and Luke were fuming. Jack appeared to be a bit upset, but he wasn't as protective over his little sister.

"Someone, please, explain what the hell is going on here!" Jim boomed.

"Matt's been taking advantage of Freya!" Quinn exclaimed.

"Matthew," Chantal looked towards her oldest.

"He- he's not taking advantage of me," Freya wiped her nose on the sleeve of her hoodie.

"Let's hear what Matthew and Freya have to say before we jump to conclusions," Ellen mediated.

"I-" Freya started.

"We're married," Matthew cut her off. Silence filled the room.

"You're what?!" Jim asked, anger covering his face.

"We- we got married at the end of the semester," Freya explained, more tears leaving her eyes. Taryn rubbed her back comfortingly.

"Why?! Are you pregnant?!" Chantal gasped.

"No, Mom. She's not pregnant. We- we love each other."

"She's 20!" Luke yelled.

"This... this does seem a bit sudden, Frey," Jack mumbled.

"No! Matthew and I are in love!" Freya sobbed, standing up and moving towards him. Jim stopped her before she could, handing her over to her mother.

"I think it's best you leave, Matthew," Jim sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"You're kicking my son out for being in love?!" Chantal screeched, "No way!"

"She's practically still a teenager!" Quinn retorted.

"She's an adult! And they made an adult decision. Although, I would've appreciated an invite."

"It was private, Mom. Just us at the courthouse."

"You got fucking eloped to him?!" Quinn growled at his sister. She sobbed harder, hiding her face in her mom's shoulder.

"I think it's best if we all leave," Keith sighed, patting Jim on the back.

"No! Matty," Freya cried, but Ellen pulled her back.

"Shh, love. It's okay," she cooed, running a hand through Freya's hair.

Matthew nodded solemnly. And just like that the Tkachuks were gone.

"Freya, why did you think it was a good idea to get eloped?" Jim asked, sitting across from his daughter at the table.

"I- I love him. We just... it felt right."

"We... we just would've liked to know, Frey. That's a big decision to make."

"I know, Mom. I'm sorry. We were just happy living in our own little world. We were going to tell everyone later."

"We're happy that you're happy, Freya. You just need to get your brothers to feel the same way. I'm sorry for kicking Matthew out, I just didn't want the boys to fight anymore. And it is Quinn's house," Jim sighed.

"Thanks, Dad. It's okay. I'm sure Matt understands. I love you guys."

"We love you too, Freya," Ellen smiled, pulling her daughter in for a hug.

Freya knocked on Quinn's door, getting an exasperated "WHAT?!" in response.

"It's Frey. Can we talk?"

"I'm not sure I want to," Quinn replied.

"Come on, Quinn. Hear me out."

"Fine. Come in."

Freya sat on the edge of her brother's bed, him sitting next to her. The air in the room felt thick, and it made her anxiety even worse.

"I'm- Freya, I just want to understand what your thought process was when you decided to get married to a guy you've been with for a year."

"I'm in love. Don't people say love makes you do dumb things?"

"He's 26."

"I know. But I'm an adult too. It isn't illegal. And it's not like I married some random guy. You know Matt. You've known Matt forever."

"Doesn't mean I'm happy about it. Are you sure this wasn't a shotgun wedding?"

"I'm not pregnant! We're always safe when we-"

"I don't want to hear about your sex life. Especially your sex life with Matthew Tkachuk," Quinn groaned. "But I guess I'm relieved you aren't pregnant."

"Yeah, me too," she giggled.

"Look, I'll get over this, Frey. I just need time. I'm your big brother and I'll always love you, but... I don't know how to feel about this."

"But it has nothing to do with you, Quinn. It's my life. I decided to get married."

"Nothing to do with me? Freya, you're my little sister. And you kept this secret from the whole family. I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to be pissed! Especially when you married my best friend's older brother!"

"I- I'm sorry, Quinn. I'll give you the time. But please remember that I... I am an adult."

"I know, Freya. I know. I- I love you."

"Love you too, Quinn."

"Cracking Luke isn't going to be this easy. He's really upset," Quinn sighed.

Freya entered Luke's room, "Leave."

"Luke."

"No. Leave. I don't want to see you."

"Luke-"

"Leave, Freya! I don't want to talk to you! You betrayed my trust."

"I'm not leaving, Luke."

He sat up in his bed and if looks could kill, Freya would be dead.

"Fine. You want to hear what I have to say? I'm pissed. I am so fucking mad at you. You're my twin! You... you've always told me everything! And I tell you everything! Then I have to find out through a photo that you're not even just dating Matthew Tkachuk... you're married to the fucking guy! Would've been nice to know! Like I don't know... when you started TALKING TO HIM!"

"Luke-"

"No, Freya. I don't want to hear your side of things. Leave. NOW!"

Freya returned to her room with tears in her eyes, clicking on Matt's contact and holding her phone up to her ear.

"Hey, baby. Everything okay?"

"Mom and Dad are happy for us. Quinn said he'll get over it. I don't think Jack even cares. But Luke... Luke is really mad at me. I don't think he's been this mad since I broke his Sidney Crosby mini stick when we were kids."

"I- I can come get you, love. Go for a little drive."

"I want to go home, Matty."

"Home? Like Florida?"

"Yes," she sobbed.

"Okay... okay, baby. We can do that. I-"

"Come get me."

"Okay, yeah. I'm coming. I love you, Freya."

"I love you too, Matt."

A week later, Freya felt like she could finally breathe. Matt wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back flush against his chest. He rocked them back and forth, whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

"I love you."

"I love you too. You wanna get ready for bed? It's been a long couple of days."

She shook her head, spinning to wrap her arms around his neck.

"What do you want, Frey? Anything you want."

"You," she whispered, meeting their lips in a sweet kiss.

The next morning, Freya woke up to her phone ringing repeatedly.

"Hello?" she answered sleepily. Matthew groaned, rolling over and pulling her body closer to his.

"Hey, Frey! Luke's kind of miserable. D'you think you could talk to him?" Jack's voice broke through the speaker.

"Um... he said he doesn't want to talk to me."

"Who is it?" Matt mumbled.

"He's just being dumb! Frey, you're his best friend in the whole world. He's all mopey without you."

"Then he can apologize for yelling at me and then I'll think about it."

"Frey-"

"Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to enjoy my alone time with my husband."

"Ew-"

Freya hung up, placing her phone back on the nightstand. Matt sighed, throwing her leg over his hip. He buried his head in her neck, his breathing falling into a steady pattern as he fell back asleep. Freya couldn't sleep though, she just wanted Luke to accept that she was happy, why was it so hard for him?

Luke had typed the message to his sister out at least 15 times, but he couldn't find the words to describe how he was feeling. Quinn and Jack, with the help of their parents, had talked some sense into him. He understood that he had the right to be upset with Freya, but he had taken it too far. Now, he just needed his apology to seem sincere and heartfelt.

"Just tell her exactly how you feel," Jack shrugged.

"Ew, you're making it sound like I'm confessing my feelings to a girl."

Jack rolled his eyes, "Shut up, Luke. Just text our fucking sister."

Hey, Freya. I know I shouldv'e done this sooner, but the way I reacted to the news of you and Matt was immature and unfair to you. You were already feeling so much stress and I just added to that. I have the right to be a little upset, but you're right... you don't have to tell me everything. I love you, Frey. Text me when you see this

When Freya saw that text, she couldn't wipe the smile from her face. Rolling over and pressing kisses all over Matthew's exposed skin.

"Hm," he groaned, "What's got you in such a good mood?"

"Luke apologized! Everyone is happy for us!"

"That's good. Now sleep. You look exhausted, babe."

"I can't sleep now! Everything is the way I always wanted it to be!"

"Mmm, yeah. That's awesome, Frey."

"Matty! This is the best!"

He laughed, watching sleepily as she straddled his waist. He placed his hands on her hips, running his thumbs over the smooth skin.

"I'm happy that you're happy, baby."

"I'm so happy! Almost as happy as when we got married," she smirked.

"Nothing can top that."

And with that Freya leaned forward and connected their lips. Morning breath or not this was the man she loved, and now she could share him with the world.

[idyllcy]

in sickness, in health - tim drake x reader (pretty bird countdown #10)

"You know, Damian, calling me out into the middle of Gotham U is sketchy asf." You hold your phone to your ear, raising a brow at the series of arrows on the ground. "Is this your way of getting Tim to propose to me?"

"I have no idea what nonsense you're sprouting."

"Watch." You turn around, Tim falling right into your arms, and you suddenly get the vibe that you're in some sort of Kdrama. "Caught ya."

Tim stares up at you, eyes wide as he laughs. "You caught me, pretty bird."

"See? Now, what is the nonsense you were telling me about? If you guys are planning a wedding in the middle of our university, I highly advise you to do it in the Wayne backyard or summer home instead."

You blink as Damian hangs up.

"We're flying out. They just wanted us to host a small wedding where they get to watch us exchange vows. Remember the letters you used to write to your future husband? Your mom mailed them all to me." Tim hums, fingers brushing over your wedding ring.

"WHAT THE FUCK???" Your eye twitches, horror written all over your face as you wince. "How did she even find them??"

"Apparently she dug them out when you told her that you got married."

"Mm." You grimace. "Do I have to read them in front of your family?"

"No. Just the two of us. I asked them for private vows. It's the least they can do for us"

"And it's a gala?"

"The party after is at the gala. No worries, Bruce didn't tell anyone why there's a fourth gala this year."

"Are you sure?" You raise a brow.

"I promise. We can stay in my old room the entire time if you want it that bad."

"Can we play Hades?"

"You and your fifty seven hours on a game because you want to fuck the main character." Tim rolls his eyes.

"Okay?? And?? Listen, my husband is hot, but fictional characters are still fine as fuck." You huff. "Besides, my vows are to you, no? I hope you them since I didn't get to tell you at the courthouse."

"Hey, how about reading them to me after the wedding so I can pick it apart?"

"What is this? Literary analysis?"

"Yes." Tim laughs. "To show my love for you."

"Then shall I frame your vows?"

"No need. You can keep the original draft on a USB."

"Yeah?"

Tim laughs. "Yes. That way, each time you wonder if I still love you, you have proof that the choice I made was to love you until I return to the dust of the earth."

"That's absolutely insane to say to me."

"Oh, hey. There's the helicopter." Tim looks up, leading you back as it lands in the quad.

"Is this... legal?"

"Nothing a little money can't handle."

"Great day to be marrying rich, I guess?" You raise a brow. "Where are we even having vows?"

"In private." He holds out his hand for you, helping you onto the helicopter.

"Did you plan this?"

"Just the vows part." Tim hands you the headphones as you pop them on. "We'll land at home."

"And then?"

"And then, we'll read our vows as we help each other get dressed for the gala."

"My wedding dress is nowhere near appropriate for the gala after all that sand got on it."

"I have another white one that we ordered. It's more casual." Tim grins, taking your hands again. "Everything I have is for you."

"You sound so sappy it hurts."

"Love you too." Tim snickers.

You find it strange. Tim finds it strange. You wonder just what kind of a life you led in your past life that had led you to end up with him. He is flawed, but you find that it's fine or whatnot. The world could stop spinning for him, and you would still stay by his side — until the earring rusts and your ring finger is worn down by the on and off before and after bed, he would be engrained into a part of your soul, hums gentle against your skin as the rain splatters against the window. There would be a fixing, until the two of you are withered and frail with age, until you can no longer fix each other and return to dust as one.

"Ehem." You make the dramatics of dropping the rest of the paper as Tim helps you lace your back, laughing. "To my dearest, sweetest, loveliest, future husband. At the time I am first starting this page, I am twelve and have a thrashing obsession with Robin. As with all of my hyperfixations, I expect this to last no longer than two months. Even if it continues, I hope this is whatever the hell my classmates won't shut up about... the invisible string theory? I wonder if that means I'm gonna marry Robin's girlfriend or something. Oh, maybe even another hardcore fan of his—"

Tim holds back a laugh, back shaking as he finishes with the bow. "My girlfriend?"

"You weren't bi at that point in time. At least not to us." You snort, continuing. "Regardless of whoever I end up with, I'm fine if I never end up married too. I keep hearing all of this nonsense about how women are having less kids and shit and I think it's a good time to never have to deal with it. Hopefully you don't want kids either. Or, maybe you're down bad like those men in all of that fanfiction I've been reading. Regardless, if I end up marrying a man who can't respect my boundaries, I want a divorce. Fuck this, man."

You move down the paper, and Tim runs his hand through your hair.

"You're doing my hair this time?" You raise a brow. "What's next, my makeup?"

"I will be attempting to do your makeup today." Tim purses his lips. "If you'll let me?"

"Sure." You hum, moving your head to make sure he gets all of your hair. "Dear future husband, here's a few things you need to know if you want to be my one and only all my life."

Tim holds back a laugh, but you feel him shaking behind you anyway.

"I have a Robin addiction. I know he technically assaulted me or whatever on the rooftop the other day, but oh my god he's got such a feminine-shaped face that I think I am never going to reach that level of pretty. Even if I do, somehow, I don't think I could ever have a figure that nice. Do I look better now? Maybe I do. I don't know. Hopefully I'm the prettiest girl in the world to you even when I'm old and wrinkly. I got scolded by mom because of... nearly losing my camera but.. boo. I hope you're Robin. I really hope I end up marrying that guy because my friends may not be able to marry Jungkook but I at least have a chance of marrying him. Are you Robin? The one that has pants? It sounds so romantic... please take me out on midnight swings." You pause, blinking at your next words.

"I bet it's something about how you'd let me fuck you six ways from sunday." Tim reaches for a brush.

"Wow, you're like, psychic." You snort. "I also hope whenever I look at you like I'd let you hit fourteen different ways, you catch the cue. Or, maybe the idea of sex grosses me out now. I don't know. I wouldn't know. I can only keep hoping and praying that you're Robin. Oh, also, please let me grate cheese on your abs if you have— I CAN'T."

"No, keep going." Tim stops, hair still in his hand as you shake from laughter. "KEEP GOING."

"Please let me grate cheese on your abs if you have abs. Oh, also, is it possible to cut my finger on your jawline? Maybe you'll let me bite into your collarbone until I draw blood. Okay, that was oddly kinky and weird. I am sorry if future me has to read this to you. I might be insane or something. I wouldn't know." You close your eyes for the next part. "Regardless, I want a big fancy wedding that costs a billion dollars where you'll fly all of my friends in and we'll party until sunrise. That was sarcasm, by the way. I want a small wedding where it's just family and friends. Maybe a second one to host more people if you're a socialite or something. I hope my future in laws love me more than they love you. Mom's been teaching me how to cook lately, and I might have a talent for it. I hope you enjoy every single Chinese dish on the planet, because I can not live with white people food for extended periods of time. Kisses! Xoxo."

"Yeah, I think that last part is apparent." Tim finishes with your hair, reaching for accessories. "The ironic part is that you DID manage to marry that Robin."

"Yeah, I bet she'd be having a crazy ass moment." You hum. "Ehem, dear future husband. my parents are divorced now. I'm in high school at this point in time. Robin seems rather chummy with me now, but I still don't think he sees me as a potential romantic partner. I think he only recognizes me if I have my all black clothes on. Regardless, I think he's a funny guy. Also, I caught him kissing Spoiler a couple days ago so I don't think I have a chance."

"Makes me nostalgic, almost." Tim hums, looking through your jewelry. "What colors for accent?"

"Red." You hum. "For good luck for the bride and groom."

Tim laughs.

"You know, maybe you're one of the other Robins. Maybe you're the second one.. that like. died. or something. I heard there's a new vigilante running around. Red Hood? I think he's more of a crime lord, but his build... I MEAN. I MEAN IM NOT LIKE UNFAITHFUL OR ANYTHING. I JUST THINK HE'S HOT. Yeah. Anyways. I still run a twitter for Robin, but I think he's rebranded as Red Robin. His fit is kinda fire. Don't tell him I said that, though. I don't think people pay me enough for this nonsense, honestly. My current friends are alright. I don't think I find them particularly entertaining, but it's not like I'll see any of them when I move away for college. Is it wrong to dislike your friends? Probably. They drain too much energy whenever I hang out with them. How are your friends? I hope you have a great relationship with your family, or else I am royally fucked."

"Tilt." Tim hums, and you raise your ear, letting Tim pop your studs off for the rubies. "I should get you a new pair."

"Maybe." You laugh. "I have two more pages. The two of them are addressed to you."

"Both?"

"Dearest Tim Drake." You hum, straightening your back as Tim helps you put on your necklace. "I really fucking hope you're the guy I marry, cuz I will burn this letter if not."

"I'm so glad this lived to see the light of day." Tim mumbles, starting with your makeup. "Is this alright?"

"Yes, birdie." You hum. "I remember most of it."

"Good." He grins. "Because I have a letter for you too."

You beam at him, eye closed as he pats your foundation on. "I genuinely can not believe you had sex with me. I do not radiate sex appeal, have an addiction to a Japanese green tea brand, and probably do not study half as much as I should. I have a crippling addition to Red Robin, nearly kissed him at a Halloween party, and once on the rooftop of my dorm. I do not understand why you brought me to a place that I felt I did not belong in, and I wonder if you had just picked me because I seemed like an easy target."

Tim frowns at the words.

"Regardless, I think you're the one. I think it's becoming more apparent just through the assignments I've been writing. Do you love me? Do I love you? Is this called love? I don't know. I haven't loved someone in a long time. I think my best friend calls it a delusionship. A one sided, delusionship. Hopefully they'll be there at our wedding or whatever. Will you buy me an apartment building for our wedding gift? A reverse dowry of twenty billion dollars? I don't even know how much money you have, tch. I just want a nice apartment to live in. The bar is actually in hell. Yet, I find myself catching up with interviews and news about you, desperate to learn more about you and understand just what about you draws me in. You know, I really wonder if you genuinely loved me when you said good morning to me. Maybe you did. Maybe you don't anymore. Human emotions are fickle, after all."

"Lips." He hums.

You open your mouth, jutting out your lip as he helps you apply lipstick.

"Any more?"

"Human emotions are fickle, yet I find myself clawing at my heart when I think of you. Maybe I do love you. Maybe I am nothing in myself, and I need someone to love me. Maybe you showed me love. Maybe, just maybe, you are the one. Yet, I dare not promise it. So, I go back to where I began in this letter, wondering if you would receive it. No kisses this time. May you be the one to send me those instead."

"I think I'm done." Tim takes a step back, lips curled upwards.

You turn to look in the mirror, grinning. "Yeah, birdie?"

"Yeah." Tim hums. "I'll read you my vows next, I promise."

"This one's my vows." You hum, folding the paper back up and cutting open an envelope. "Ready?"

"You wanna sit on the couch before the car gets here?"

"Not gonna say no to that." You stand up, Tim leading you as you get used to walking in the dress. "Wow, I keep forgetting how annoying it is to walk in these dresses."

"You're the star of the show tonight." Tim hums. "Depending on whether or not you want to give the paparazzi a show, I can carry you for the whole night too."

"I'll be fine in the heels, I promise." You sit down as Tim lets go of your hand. "Ready for my vows?"

"Of course."

"To beloved birdie, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne." You hum, smoothing out the paper. "We did not get to have proper wedding vows at the courthouse, so I am writing mine down knowing that you will definitely host something at the complaint of your family. I vow to love you until the sun rises from the west and the moon is eradicated — until the moon becomes the sun and the sun becomes the moon, I vow to cherish you even unto death. I vow that when you are sick and dying, when you are struck with illnesses I have never heard of, I will be by your side. I vow that even if the paparazzi decide to tear their claws into my skin to ruin my life, I will stay. I vow that when you are struck by pollen and in need of release, I will be there for you. Until the world collapses and you are no longer red but old, and even when one of us leave, I promise I will be by your side and follow you until there is nothing left in this world but us. I vow that even on the days where we can not stand the presence of each other, we will find each other again. In this universe, the next, and in every universe out there, I vow that I will find you. I vow that even in the worlds that we are not together, I am nearby. I vow that in sickness and health, in richer or poorer, for better or worse, to love and cherish you even unto death. Love you lots, your pretty bird."

Tim holds a napkin to the corner of his eye, blinking to get the tears out of his eyes and onto the napkin, careful to not ruin his makeup.

"Birdie?"

"I can't read my vows without crying right now. Give me a second."

"I'll touch up your makeup if you do." You laugh. "I vow to be by your side through every gala we attend, your makeup forever next to mine, my heart forever yours to hold."

"You're awful." Tim sniffs, laughing as he manages to calm down, unfolding his own letter to you. "To the prettiest bird in every universe. To my beloved wife, I, Timothy Jackson Drake Wayne vow to protect you until crime is no longer in existence, to hold you until we both return to the dust of the earth, to love you even after death. I vow to hold only you when I am in need of help, and to seek you out first amongst a crowd of people I have known all my life. I vow that my love for you will not fade, and that I will be infatuated with you for all the days of my life and death, and that on both good and bad days, I will be the person by your side. I vow that even when we are old and wrinkly, I will bring you items that remind me of you, flowers that bring a smile to your face, my whole self for you alone. When you ask of something, I vow to do my best to grant it, and when the end of the world comes, I will shield your body with my own, and in every other universe that I accidentally end up in during missions, to every other version of myself that is not me, I will stand as proof of love to them. May we be tangled in each others' lives throughout all our days."

"I don't know, birdie." A smirk makes its way onto your face. "I'm starting to think I was a lot more dedicated than you were."

"Psh." He rolls his eyes. "I'll read you my letter from the morning after we started going out eventually. "

"WHAT."

"Come on. The ride is here." He holds his hand out for you, and you raise a brow.

"And when will I be reading that letter?"

"One day." He laughs.

You click your tongue as he kneels down to help you put the heels on.

"And that day is?"

"I promise, pretty bird," he hums, sliding your shoe on with a kiss to your hand. "You will read it."

"If you say so." You mumble, yelping as he carries you.

"Ready to scare Gotham shitless?"

"Oh, I've been ready."

[weixuldo]

Enigma// ch 27

anakin x reader

A/N: Heyyyy- this one is pretttty long lol (a range of emotions for your reading pleasure) Hopefully u guys enjoy!! Also I am not an ordained minister and have never been to a courthouse wedding- so just keep that in mind if I totally butchered the process lollll!! as always, thanks for reading :)

NSFW

Courthouse weddings were not on your bucket list this year, but if its with Ani- you'll be alright.

warnings: cursing, mentions of pregnancy, afab! reader, marriage?, ani is a disabled veteran, topics of death, Vaginal sex, oral (f!recieving), cumplay (kind of?), liver failure?, depictions of pain

____________________________

You lightly squeezed Anakin’s upper arm with excitement as the officiant entered the small room. He was an older man, but he wasn’t the stereotypical short, bumbling bureaucrat; instead he was rather tall, in shape, and filled out his pressed suit nicely. He seemed to have himself all together.

He eyed the two of you suspiciously (he probably thought the two of you were a joke). After all, the two of you were nowhere near as dressy as him.

You wore a simple white dress you found at a thrift store you frequented. It has a lacy trim and a beautiful silk trail; honestly it was crazy that you found this in a size that would fit your pregnant belly in such a pinch. 

Anakin told you he would have bought you a new dress from a boutique if you wanted, but you respectfully declined; you really liked the appeal of a secondhand dress- nothing wrong with clothing that told a story and now you got to add some new memories to the dress. 

Anakin wore the only suit he owned, a plain dark blue coat and trousers with a white button up. Though, it was definitely too big for him now since he had lost so much weight. He never bought a new one because he always hated wearing suits (too many ceremonies in his full dress for the army), plus most suits made it hard for him to maneuver his limbs due to the cut and the tightness. 

Whenever you were a little girl, you never expected the wedding of your dreams would be in a courthouse- but being here with Anakin was all your heart could ask for. 

The officiator walked around to the bench and set his leather briefcase down lightly, before taking a few papers out. Anakin placed a stiff hand on your forearm and gave you a small smile. 

“How are you doing, beautiful?” he whispered, his words tickling your ear. 

WIth a shy giggle, you responded “I can’t wait to be your wife, Ani”. 

“Alright- do we have everyone who should be present in attendance?” the tall man in front of you asked. 

You turned behind you to check if Ben, Satine, and Ahsoka were still back there (where else would they have gone?). Once you gave them a quick smile, you turned back to the man and nodded. 

“Perfect. My name is Mace Windu, and I will be officiating this marriage- I am to inform you that I am an ordained minister by law and every document you sign here will be officially binding. If you have any objections before we proceed, speak now or forever hold your peace. Shall we begin?” the man spoke before taking a moment to scan the room. 

“No objections? Very well. We will begin the ceremony.”

Mace spoke so formally and so precisely that it felt more like you were being read your rights rather than being wed- but either way, you couldn't be happier. 

Sadly your city’s courthouse didn’t allow for personalized vows (you had no idea why), so the ceremony was rather short. Once Windu had gone through the formalities and such it was your turn to answer. 

“Anakin Skywalker, do you take this woman to be your lawfully-wedded wife”.

Anakin turned towards you and held his gloved hands out for you to hold. A soft, yet all consuming look of adoration consumed his features as he gazed upon your beauty. You were the most radiant woman he had ever set his sights on- how were you about to be his wife? 

Anakin’s “I do” came out more as a heartfelt sigh than a statement, but that made it even more special. 

His smile lines were evident around on his face as his blue eyes admired you; he was a little self conscious about the “wrinkles” but you always reminded him they told so much more than age- they told the story of his life; his joy, his despair, his pain, his laughter- they made him who he was. 

“And do you, f/n l/n, take this man to be your lawfully-wedded husband?” Mace asked with a small smile. 

“I do” you delivered with your whole heart. 

“With the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride” 

Without hesitation, Anakin slipped his hand against your cheek and brought your lips to his. Never had a kiss been so dizzying- passion, lust, love, excitement, longing, and sadness all combined into one.

You reveled in the feeling of your plush lips against his. 

You nearly forgot you were in public when your friends started to clap and make their way towards the front of the room. Mace set out the official document and handed you an expensive fountain pen for you to sign with. 

You forgot all thoughts of his judgment once he handed you the pen with a smile, “congratulations, Mrs. Skywalker”.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach- Mrs. Skywalker…. Wow. 

Anakin wrapped a loving arm around your back and pressed another kiss to your temple. 

“I love you so much sweetheart, more than anything” 

“You are my everything, Ani” you responded with another kiss. 

___________________________________

“Are you sure you want to do this, princess?” Anakin asked shakily as you led him to your shared bedroom. 

“I’m completely sure, Ani” 

Ever since that first kiss as a married couple, you and Anakin had both been pining after each other the whole day; of course you had each other now, but you wanted that intimacy that was expected on a wedding night. 

You didn’t ache for him purely from lust, rather it was an all consuming desire to be one with your lover, you wanted to be able to physically channel the love you so desperately felt. 

“Please, Ani… I want you inside of me- I want you” 

Your sweet and sensual tone made him shiver; how could he deny his beautiful little wife? Anakin bit his bottom lip hesitantly and nodded as he began to remove his slacks. 

You relaxed back onto the mattress and released a sigh, “thank you my love”.

His sandy locks fell in front of his eyes as he gazed back at you, “Anything for you”.

Once he removed his pants, you helped him with his shirt; he laid on his stomach and placed his face between your plush thighs. 

You were dizzy with anticipation as his bright blue eyes gazed upon your aching core- the two of you hadn’t been intimate in this way since the baby and all that time was taking a toll on you.

Obviously the two of you agreed to be gentle for the sake of the baby, but deep down all you wanted was for your newly-wed husband to fuck you untill you couldn’t speak right. 

His stiff, cold hands held your in-place by your hips and he pushed his face right into you. Anakin’s skillful tongue swirled around your sensitive bud as he made his way up and down your delicate folds. 

Unintentionally, you arched your back which caused your pelvic bone to bump his nose into your clit; an odd sensation that made you jolt. The strong cartilage pressed nicely against your swollen clit. Maker, was there any part of this man that you didn’t love?

“O-oh Ani” you moaned.

He started slowly but as your breathing began to quicken, so did his motions. He wasn’t really able to maneuver his mechanical digits in the way he would have liked to, so his mouth was very skilled. 

He lapped up your sweet juices as he rutted his painfully hard erection into the plush mattress. He could get off by your reactions to his tongue alone. You were gorgeous.

He eyed your round stomach and for some reason that only charged his lust. You were carrying his child- his. 

Anakin never really saw the appeal of children when he was younger (probably also because they were such a big factor for him and Padme), but now- now he saw the appeal. He saw all of it. 

Though the child was an accident, it was born from the love and passion you and Anakin had for each other, this child would be there to love you when he’d be gone- this child you carried held his future.

His head spun with all consuming love for you- his wife. 

Maker, he never thought he would get another chance at love after his accident all those years ago… 

“A-Ani! I’m close” you whimpered, as your thighs trembled on either side of his face. 

Your shaky voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he paused to kiss your sensitive bud before he helped you reach your anticipated release. 

“Let go for me baby” he instructed softly.

And you did just that; stars flooded your vision and your brain went fuzzy. You couldn’t remember the last time you came (probably before the baby).

You allowed yourself a moment to gather yourself; Your chest heaved as you sat upright to draw him into a sloppy kiss. His sandy locks were all disheveled and his cheeks were rosy- he was perfect. 

“Ani- that was… amazing” you huffed, still riding out your high. 

His lips quirked upwards and he placed a hand on your cheek, “Anything for you, my love”. 

He never hesitated to make you blush. You looked down to see his large bulge straining against his boxers. 

“Oh, Anakin…” you cooed as you ghosted your fingers across his rock hard shaft.

He shut his eyes and quivered at your touch. You leaned forward and pulled back the elastic waistband to get a peek at his blushing member.

His velvety tip was bright red and weeping with precum; you gave it a soft kiss and collected a bead of his salty cum.

“F-fuck” he shuddered. 

You began to tug his boxers off; as you did you kissed down his hip bone, v-line, and pelvis. You pulled the thin fabric over the threshold of his human and prosthetic legs until they were finally off. 

His heavy dick slapped against his lower stomach; his one vein prominently pulsing on display for your pleasure. You gently dragged your fingers along the ridged scars that peppered his cock (they added a different level of sensation when they brushed against your walls).

You were about to take him into your mouth when he stopped you. 

“Wait- I want to be in you” he said breathlessly. 

You knew what he meant, but you felt like teasing him- “Well, technically you would be” you smirked. 

He exhaled and playfully shook his head, “I didn’t know I married a comedian”. 

You giggled and sat back up, “alright Ani, where do you want me?”.

The routine question was not because he liked to order you around the bedroom (well, sometimes he did), it was more of a courtesy question you habitually asked. Anakin was limited in the amount of positions he could pull off and some days certain ones were easier than others. 

“Lie on your back” he said and you complied. 

He grabbed a few pillows and stacked them under the small of your back so that you were more arched (a personal favorite of yours). He kneeled his prosthetics on the bed right against the backs of your thighs. 

Anakin felt light headed with lust as he caressed your breasts and then down your swollen belly. His weeping cock was pulsing in anticipation as it stood proudly, eager to enter your plush pussy. 

“Alright sweetheart” he breathed before slowly pushing himself into your. 

You gasped as his bulbous head made its way into your cunt.

“Are you alright?” he asked quickly (and worriedly). 

You nodded and asked him to continue. 

Slowly, inch-by-inch, he made his way into you. You gripped the bedsheets and tossed your head back in pleasure. 

Anakin was already feeling indescribably good, but when he finally bottomed out, he couldn’t suppress the guttural moan that escaped him. 

“Feel good?” you asked him with a lazy smile. 

He nodded vigorously “f-feels so good baby- s-so good” he babbled as he gently rutted his hips into you. 

You patted his thigh to get his attention, “You can move more Ani- you won’t hurt the baby” you coached. 

He clenched his jaw and nodded once more before he slowly dragged his length across your plush walls. The slow cadence of his hips made you shudder- the contrast from his fast and precise tongue to the slow but filling feeling of his cock only added to your overstimulation. 

“Fuck…. you look so beautiful baby- my beautiful- ahh- m-my beautiful wife” he said. 

“All yours Ani” 

He groaned at your sentiment and began to quicken his pace- you felt so damn good; he was already feeling his release coming?

He watched your swollen breasts bounce as he thrusted in and out of you- he couldn’t take it anymore. Anakin shut his eyes and tossed his head back, 

“I’m so- I’m so close baby” he almost cried (he too, had not cum in a while). 

He snapped his hips into yours, making you yelp in pleasure, “F-fuck, ‘m sorry princess” he apologized before he moaned once more. 

“I’m gonna cum! I’m- I- ‘m cumming. I’m cumming!” he stuttered as his body shook violently with the orgasm that ripped through him. 

You gasped at the warm thrust of cum that shot into your already sensitive pussy. His thick ropes painted your insides as he continued to empty himself into you. 

Both of you panted heavily and he began to unsheathe himself from your pussy. His dick was coated in a marvelous mixture of both of your highs… a heavenly sight. 

You sat up and helped rest Anakin against the headboard before you retrieved his inhaler. You administered a few puffs before his breathing had calmed down. 

“I don’t think you understand how indescribably in love I am with you” he huffed as his beautiful blue eyes looked deeply into yours. 

You smiled and blushed a stray curl behind his ear, “I understand completely”.

________________________________________

You snuggled close to Anakin under the warm covers after the two of you had gotten cleaned up and took a shower.

You couldn’t believe you were actually married to the man you loved more than anyone else. Sure the two of you had got off on the wrong foot and had your rough patches, but look how far you've come. 

Sleep was finally washing over you when you felt Anakin tense beside you. He was probably dreaming- he was plagued by constant nightmares from his past.

You began to brush your fingers through his hair (something you did to calm him when he would dream), but when his body jolted and he curled onto his side, you knew it wasn’t a nightmare. 

“Anakin?!” you exclaimed when he started thrashing and groaning.

You sat up and reached for the light. He was clutching his right side with the arm he kept on at night- it was his liver. 

His eyes were screwed shut as he braced himself against the bed. He wailed when you helped him upright, you could see his veins pulsing; every inch of him was screaming out for relief. 

“Ani, I’m going to go get your pills, ok? Are you alright here?” you said hurriedly, your own heart rate was through the roof. 

He just cried and shook his head, “Please- do-don’t leave me” he managed through gritted teeth. 

Your eyes softened, “Ani, the pills will help, just let me get them for you- please?” you pleaded. 

He stayed silent and finally nodded.

“Ok, I’ll be right back” you said before kissing him on the forehead. 

You raced to the kitchen counter where his pile of pills sat, you rummaged through the bottles looking for the pain pills the doctor prescribed. Once you finally had it you dashed back to the bedroom. 

Anakin had laid back down on his side and his face was scrunched in pain. You rushed to his side and pulled him up so that he was lying against your chest. His grimace was painful to look at and he drool had begun to pool on the area he had lied down on. 

“Oh, Ani” you whispered as he trembled in your hold. 

You helped him take his meds and comforted him as the feeling began to pass. He finally drifted off after about an hour or so of in-and-out pain. 

Once you laid him back down, you walked out to the living room and sat on the couch. You debated switching on the TV to mindlessly view some stupid show to attempt to occupy your racing mind, but you ended up just staring at the black screen. 

Before you knew it, salty tears were streaming down your face. Why did Anakin have to endure this? Hadn’t he gone through enough? 

You thought about how happy you were all day and how much you wanted a life with him-but now this? Nothing but a bitter reminder of the limited time you actually had with your husband. 

What hurt the most was there was nothing you could do...

nothing you could do, but wait.

***

a/n: so sorry this ended on such a somber note but I told ya- it was a rollercoaster in here hahah- also ik courthouse weddings take more planning, but for the sake of the story- we’re gonna pretend Anakin had been planning this and compiling the documents so that if you said yes (which you did) the two of you would be able to be wed as soon as you signed ur name on the respective dotted line :)

taglist : @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote @poisonedsultana @imarimone12 @fallinlovewithevil @sythe-skywalker

[fandoms-in-law]

Arranged Husband

Summary/My Idea prompt for today: "Hey Robin? Apparently I'm marrying Hagan next week. Get Nance and Jon. Eddie's already on his way"

Steve is an only child so far as he knows, heir to his parents wealth, kept in Hawkins for safety. Then they tell him they've arranged a marriange to a man in town and all that paperwork they keep in Hawkins Will Tell Steve Why. and he will use it for his advantage as well as Robin's

Author's Note: I'm pretty sure this idea came from a tumblr post I saw months back about arranged marriages not making sense with how they're used in fic and ways to make them reasonable. If anyone can find that post please tell me/ tag me on it so I can link it here.

/\/\

“Hey Robin?” Steve said as soon as she got to the phone, “Apparently I’m marrying Hagan next week. Get Nance and Jon. Eddie’s already on his way.” He hung up before she could ask more, knowing that he’d be talking until well after Eddie arrived if he didn’t and he really preferred to discuss this fully with everyone in person.

The parcel had been delivered about an hour earlier and he’d been struggling to comprehend it the entire time. He’d read the letter attached and grown confused enough that the parcel was still sitting unopened and Steve dreaded to open it and see what his parents thought needed sending along with the letter.

/\

“Woah, what’s in the box, Stevie?” Eddie called, looking at the parcel curious, hands clearly itching to open it. “You getting me extravagant gifts without asking me out?”

Steve laughed, an empty sound given how worried he was about opening that after the revelations of the latter. “Not quite and I don’t know or really want to know. We’ll open it when the others get here though.”

“Others? I wasn’t the only one to get a call demanding I come over?” Eddie asked, lifting the box up to shake it as if that would reveal the contents. “Sounds like clothing of some sort.”

He groaned, “With the letter that got me to call you that is not a good thing.”

/\

“So why are we here? Robin said something about you getting married.” Nancy asked once Steve had got drinks and snacks for them all.

He met their eyes, sighing heavily, “I need help to go through my parents paperwork, because I got this letter and that package this morning.”

A glance holding the letter up was met with a nod so Nancy began reading:

‘Dear Steven,

As you are aware, a Harrington must meet the expectations of society. Given you have failed to find an appropriate match at this point in your life we have arranged one for you.

Next week on Saturday you shall be married to your friend Thomas Hagan. All arrangements have been made already so you need not concern yourself with any attempt to plan.

We shall visit after your honeymoon to explain what is expected of you in the future.

Sincerely your Parents, Diana and Richard Harrington’

“Are you the sole heir to the Harrington’s? Why are they making you marry a man?” Nancy asked once she’d finished reading.

Steve shrugged, “That’s why I need help. I want to turn their office and anywhere else paperwork might have been hidden in this house inside out until we’ve got all the details and can get out of this arrangement.”

/\

“Easy solution, I’ll marry you.” Eddie said an hour into their discussion of the arranged marriage.

Steve shook his head, “I’m not marrying you out of convenience, and we’re not even dating.”

“Yeah, if anyone gets that option, it should be me. Free me from my controlling family, Steven.” Robin laughed, leaning into him as if she’d faint.

“It’s unlikely a lover could be half as important as you are, so sure.” Steve agreed, stunning her and getting laughs from everyone else. “Will have to be a courthouse wedding though, there’s no time to arrange your fantasies, especially the one with the horse and carriage.”

/\

They’d both said it through the morning, mentioned dating or marriage in half serious contexts. It was repeating in Steve’s mind that they could actually make something together.

“I’ve found the honeymoon tickets. Looks like the names need confirming as we board the flight and the hotel room is a king bed.” Steve called. He’d remembered the shelf his parents usually told him to check for birthday presents had been filled on their last visit and had moved to investigating that while Nancy and Jonathan went through family documentation like birth certificates, as well as newspaper articles that had been saved.

Robin groaned. “I’m not sharing a honeymoon suite with you. Take Eddie to shock the hotel staff expecting to swoon over newly weds.”

“Oh, we going to have a romantic dream away, Stevie?” Eddie cooed, coming to look over his shoulder at the pages.

“Are you going to ask me out at some point or just make allusions to a romance we could be having?” Steve countered, leaning back into him.

Eddie blinked at him for a moment before his grin melted into something softer. “Of course, Stevie, Light of my life, Hero of Hawkins, Destroyer of Demobats, would you do the honour of dating this humble bard?”

“I will, and you do have a passport, right? This is in Greece.” Steve held up the flights again.

“Oh, Wayne insisted I get one just in case I need to flee town completely.” Eddie brightened to explain it, “And now I get a honeymoon without the wedding. How will I cope with an unfaithful boyfriend?”

Steve and Robin laughed, poking his sides, “That’s not what’s happening and you know it.”

/\

“I’ve found your brother.” Nancy called from Steve’s parents room. “Richard Harrington II, born two years before you and sent to boarding school almost as soon as he could be. No articles about him beyond that.”

Steve hurried through to her, taking the articles, “But why wasn’t I informed of this, or anyone in Hawkins aware of it?”

“The announcements were for Chicago. Your birth announcement is also but followed soon after by this in the Hawkins Post.” She pointed out, handing over the article titled ‘Harrington’s return to Hawkins’. It described the families return for a safe place to raise Steve, calling him the heir he’d thought he was.

“So they meant for nobody here to realise Richard II was their heir. They are jerks.” He stated.

/\

“Hey Steve? Thought we should catch up now you’ve finally been told about our marriage next week.” Tommy called through the house, letting himself in and getting the five already there to rush to the stairs landing.

“That’s not going to happen.” Nancy called back.

Eddie leant over the banister, “Yeah, he’s my boyfriend, not yours.”

“And going to be my husband.” Robin added, elbowing Eddie.

Steve laughed at the pair, actually heading down the stairs, “I don’t want to marry an asshole like you, so that’s not going ahead.”

“Contracts have been signed. It’s happening, Harrington. You can’t refuse it.” Tommy sneered, but faltered at the sharp gazes directed at him now, especially when Eddie threw himself onto the bannister to slide down and get in his face.

“We’ve gone against far scarier things than paperwork and rich gits before, Hagan. Maybe get the fuck out before you find out how we dealt with them.” He loomed over the other, “Steve isn’t marrying you.”

Tommy slapped a few pages onto Eddie’s chest. “These say he is. Don’t worry, you won’t be invited.”

“Tommy.” Steve had the warning tone, usually used before he insisted on getting the kids home. “Maybe turn around and see how my family agrees with that. My parents don’t have the right to sign contracts on my behalf any more.”

Behind him Joyce and Hopper had just pulled up, most of the kids with them since they’d had a sleepover the night before. Steve hadn’t explained anything to them yet, but Robin had said that if they were actually going to have a courthouse wedding that day all the party should be there too.

Tommy looked at them and was quick to leave, calling back “I’ll see you at the wedding then, begging to be forgiven for this nonsense.”

“Wedding?” Hopper asked, looking back to Steve curiously. “That’s what you called us for?”

“Yep, Steve and I are going to the courthouse and want everyone there. Please ignore the arrangement his parents made as we all are.” Robin nodded, grinning as if that made everything make sense.

Jonathan looked over at her with narrowed eyes, “Wait, if Eddie is now Steve’s boyfriend then why is he still marrying you?”

“Harder for the Harrington’s to argue with it if Steve can carry on his family.” Nancy explained. “By law, their contract could be enforced on Steve if a judge decides the marriage he took first wasn’t between equals or was less viable than the one proposed by the arrangement, so marrying Robin is better. Also her parents insist that she can only marry a man and had that written up in a contract so this way she fulfils it and if she decides she wants to marry a woman in the future then Steve’s the one who can agree to it.”

Robin span to face her, stunned. “I didn’t tell you about that. Also how do you know the divorce thing?”

“Mrs Harrington wrote up the contract for them apparently and kept a copy for some reason. I did wonder if you might’ve been an option for their arranged marriage after finding it but there were some insulting letters from your parents received after that was done, essentially saying they never should have done that.” Nancy explained. “I thought you knew where it came from.”

“I did know that. Dad mentioned it when he was criticising me for getting a job specifically to remain working with you. That they’d sorted the contract out I mean.” Steve added, “It’s actually part of why I agreed to your joking suggestion.”

“Dingus.” Robin said fondly, “Such a thoughtful dingus who failed to tell me information about my own life. Let’s get the rest of the kids and get to that courthouse.”

“Seriously? You finally get Robin to marry you and you aren’t even dating? Come on Steve, she’s perfect for you.” Dustin exclaimed, getting out of Hopper’s truck and hurrying over to hit him on the arm.

Both Steve and Robin laughed, while Eddie shoved down on Dustin’s head. “I happen to think I’m perfect for him instead. Stop deciding you know our relationships better than us.”

Shoving him off, Dustin shook his head, “But they like read each others minds, insist on not parting. How can you not see it?”

“Oh we see it alright, that’s why we’re getting married. Just don’t see it as romantic or anything other than platonic.” Steve sniped back. “Now are you being a best man, or are you bitching from the back row? Decide while I raid my parents room for suitable rings.”

“I’m not letting you decide that alone, Dingus. Show me the jewellery boxes.” Robin called, following as he headed back into the house.

El emerged from the truck now, smiling a little, “Are we really having a wedding today? Movies make them seem fun but difficult to arrange.”

Joyce hummed a little. “They can be; Most people have distant friends or relatives to invite and want specific locations that need booking far in advance, but people can just as easily go to a courthouse for a small ceremony to file a marriage which doesn’t take long at all to do.”

“But why would they do it?” El innocently asked. “There’s nothing they’d need to rush for, is there?”

Jonathan shook his head, “There is, El. Steve found out this morning that his parents have arranged a marriage for him. Either he needs to marry someone before it or he’ll be made to marry Thomas Hagan, one of his old school friends who was far more of a bully than Steve ever was.”

“It’s an outdated thing but annoyingly legal. Why wouldn’t they want their heir to-” Hopper began to ask but broke off, seeing the kids curious gazes turn to him. If the kids hadn’t learnt how the wealthy viewed sexualities he didn’t want to start that explanation right now.

“He isn’t the heir and that was hidden from Steve and all of Hawkins. I’ve not uncovered a reason why in their documents left here.” Nancy replied regardless.

Will leant out of the car to call, “Do we need fancy outfits for the wedding or is casual good enough?”

“We’re all going for casual but Steve’s insisting on wearing the suit his parents sent.” Eddie yelled back. “I think we should celebrate tonight by throwing all the paint we can at it so it looks less stuffy. You got some old paints we could use for that?”

Laughter echoed his call, everyone relaxing now they knew what was going on, at least until Lucas pointed out Erica and Max definitely needed fetching for the wedding or they’d raise hell about getting left out.

[feyhunter78]

I NEED THE NEXT PART OF PINK PASTELS 😿😿

Ask and ye shall receive, my love

Pink Pastels Pt 32

Description: You have to fess up to your boss about your relationship with Miguel, and afterwards come home to a rather heartwarming sight. Part 33

It’s awkward, sitting in front of your principal, hand folded in your lap as you wait for him to digest the information, you’re giving him.

His office is decorated for Christmas, brightly colored tinsel strewn about, a papier-mâché snowman on the corner of his desk. Your own room is also decorated, though you tried to include all the winter holidays, so it was less cohesive, more of a menagerie of festive colors and symbols.

“So, your relationship with Mr. O’Hara has progressed to marriage?” He asks carefully, his hands steepled, a tan cardigan over his shoulders.

“Yes, I wanted to keep you updated since I know this could become a conflict of interest.” You tell him, your fingers laced tightly together.

“I mean, Ms. Y/N, this is a conflict of interest, there’s no way you can prove you won’t favor Gabriella now that you’re her stepmom.”

Your shoulders slump. “I know, but I swear I’ve never treated her or any of my other students differently from each other, and if you move her now—the year is half-way over, it wouldn’t make any sense.”

Mr. Eddie sighs heavily, massaging his temples. “I don’t want to move her from your class, she’s clearly thriving, but… Okay, how about this, can you promise me that you’ll keep your relationship away from the kids and their parents until the school year is over?”

You nod excitedly. “Yes, absolutely.”

He sighs again, shuffling the paperwork on his desk. “Be careful y/n, I don’t want this to blow back on either of us.”

You nod again, solemnly this time. “I will, I promise.”

He dismisses you from his office, and you walk back to your classroom, anxiety clogging your throat.

You toy with the daisy pendant around your neck, the same one Gabi and Miguel gave you months ago at the zoo, as you enter your classroom and begin to pack up your stuff. You know you’re going to have to tell Gabi that she has to be careful, and that you can’t take her to and from school or let her eat lunch in your room when she’s feeling sad anymore, and it’s going to crush her.

As you trudge to your car, you pull out your phone, and press Miguel’s contact, pulling your winter coat further around you.

He picks up on the second ring, his warm voice settling over you like a thick blanket.

“We have to be careful; I can’t dote on Gabi like I usually do; people will find out, and they’ll have to move her from my class, and I just know she’s going to be heartbroken and I just…” You slump into the driver’s seat of your car and rest your head on the steering wheel. “Maybe this was a mistake.”

The line goes silent for a moment, then Miguel speaks. “Maybe what was a mistake?” His voice is eerily calm, and it sends a shiver of fear down your spine.

“Maybe it was a mistake to tell Eddie, or maybe we should’ve held off on the wedding until summer.” You answer, tears collecting on your lashes.

Miguel hums in response, sounding much more like his normal self. “You said it yourself; the guilt would eat you alive if you didn’t tell him.”

You let out a deep, shaky breath. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“And you wanted a winter wedding, wanted it to be snowing when we left the courthouse.” He reminds you, his tone colored with fondness.

You let your mind drift back, two weeks ago when you, Miguel, Gabi, Monica, and Brett bustled into the courthouse, a bouquet of red roses and baby’s breath clutched in your hands.

Sure, you wanted a big wedding, but you wanted to keep your job more, so you put on a tastefully scandalous wedding gown you and Monica had found, and stood in front of the judge, Miguel’s hands in yours.

The big party could come later, all you and him wanted was to be bound together forever, as soon as possible. The ceremony was a blur, and truly all you remembered was the flash of the camera as you and Gabi held up her adoption papers naming you as her mother, her real mother.

That and the way the snow fell as you ran out, Miguel’s large hand engulfing yours, his broad back swathed in black, snowflakes dusting his dark hair. He looked over his shoulder at you, his smile so bright it was blinding, his eyes filled with adoration and pure joy, and you were struck with a singular thought. This is how someone who loves you looks at you.

Not just with annoyance or lust, not with mild contempt or boredom. Not as if you’re an object for him to use for his own pleasure. You’re precious and priceless, worthy of love and respect, of pure devotion.

“I did, and it was beautiful.” You smile, wiping under your eyes and starting up your car.

“Why don’t you let me handle Gabi, and you focus on getting home safe?” He suggests, soothingly.

“Would you?”

He chuckles. “I’d do anything for you, cariño, you know that.”

You both say your goodbyes and hang up, the sound of the radio filling your car as you drive home carefully, mindful of the incoming snowstorm. Part of you hope it’ll snow so hard school will be cancelled, but you live in Neuva York, the chances of that are very low.

You pull into your apartment building, waiting for the gate to open, humming along to the songs on the radio. You travel up the parking garage until you pull into your parking spot and enter the building.

It’s warm in the building, and you begin to unzip your jacket as the elevator climbs to your floor. Stepping out, you take a moment to steel yourself before entering you and Miguel’s apartment.

The smell of clementines and hot chocolate envelops you when you open the door, the sound of Christmas cartoons floating in from the living room. You shut the door quietly and shrug off your boots, before hanging up your coat, scarf, and hat. Neither Miguel nor Gabi come to greet you at the door, even though you know with their enhanced hearing they heard you enter. You appreciate that they’re both giving you space.

When you enter the kitchen, Miguel has a bright white apron with a pale blue snowflake pattern on it, and he’s bent over pulling something that smells absolutely delicious out of the oven.

You admire the way his lounge pants hug his thighs. The curve of his back, and the silver of skin that’s exposed where his shirt has ridden up, the low hanging white strings of the apron stark against his tan skin.

Maybe he’ll let you use those apron strings to tie him up? It’s an interesting idea, one that sparks a hunger within you. You shake your head, clearing your horny thoughts, now is not the time to try and jump your hot husband’s bones.

“What’d you make?” You ask, leaning against the kitchen counter opposite of Miguel, the cabinets blocking you from anyone in the living room’s view.

Miguel turns on his heel after he sets the dish down atop the stove. “Tater tot casserole? I got the recipe from your mom; she said it was one of your favorites.”

“So that’s why she was texting me asking about spices.” You laugh, remembering how your stepmom had been bombarding you all day with oddly specific questions.

Miguel approached you with a smile, discarding the oven mitts, so he could cup your face with his warm hands. “She isn’t very subtle, I take it?”

“Oh no, she lives for the drama.” You joke, leaning into his touch.

He rolls his eyes playfully. “Like mother, like daughter.”

You scoff in mock hurt and try to push away from him, but he grabs your wrists, holding them in one big hand.

“This is the thanks I get for slaving away in the kitchen for you?” He asks dramatically, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Your eyes dart from him to the stove, to the entrance to the kitchen, before you drop your voice to a whisper. “If you made the casserole right, I can guarantee a reward I think you’ll like.”

Miguel’s eyebrows quirk up in interest and he releases your hands. “Oh?”

With deft fingers, you untie and pull the string from his apron, wrapping it loosely around his wrists.

He groans quietly, his eyes half lidded with lust. “Que seductora.”

You giggle and pocket the string. “But it’ll have to wait, I’m hungry.”

TL: @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7, @justrandomlolidk, @chimpkinnuggies, @alicefallsintotherabbithole, @loser-alert, @wwwellacom, @ryantryan6969, @lollipopin, @blakeaha, @youcantseem3, @a-cult-leader, @verexi, @purpleskiesandroses, @they2luv1naia, @sophiaj650, @idolautism, @rheannajrs, @merakiq, @rexs-wife, @sukaretto-n, @twilight-loveer, @f1shb0nez, @callsign-blue, @marcelineormars TL 2: @sxnasbitch, @111gltzpzy, @lucilavenxoxo, @ray-rook, @elizamelody, @soapbar99, @trashieboii, @erissco, @gardenof-venus, @vlads-dracula3 , @yaoisenpaiii, @the-occasional-artist1125, @polireader, @mvchmp, @shadowxfheaven, @hxlytrin, @melomichuwu, @weirdothatwritess, @ash-aragami, @deguzu, @angelarcheangel, @nekotaetae, @milohatesspit, @lollipop974, @miggyyyyohara, @itzsab, @namjooningera, @hana-1235, @amberpanda99, @joceymoo, @tfamidoingwithmylife, @itsashree, @battinsonwhore05, @namjooningera, @tortilla-chips-and-allioli, @fluffy-koalala, @fandom-ash, @angelarcheangel, @yuuotosaka3, @latersgaters-steven, @ariparri, @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast, @lycaninelizard, @angelarcheangel, @yuuotosaka3, @allysunny, @lollipopin, @allysunny, @loves0phelia, @caslistener, @tayleighuh, @namtaeh, @freehentai, @hellomrstikbot, @comeonatmebruh, @jacejawp, @cowboylikeevie

[purplesimmer455]

After playing a few rounds of Woo-Hoo?, Iseul gets up and offers a hand to Megan. “Shall we?” She says, and Megan smiles and takes it, getting up from the loveseat. Iseul pulls her close, and Megan blushes as she feels Iseul’s heart racing through their clasped hands and sees the warm look in Iseul’s dark eyes. Iseul puts one hand securely on Megan’s back, and they start swaying to the soft romantic music. Megan’s reminded of the day they got married, it was a simple courthouse wedding but it was so beautiful and the best day of Megan’s life. She’d worn a pretty white dress and Iseul wore a suit, and they’d said their vows, both of them so emotional as they’d looked into each other’s eyes, and kissed. They had their first dance an hour later, at Iseul’s parents’ house, and had swayed together in each other’s arms and were blissful. Megan knew then that she would be happy to spend the rest of her life with Iseul. Now, years later, she still feels the same, and although she and Iseul have been married for a bit and things aren’t as woohoo crazy or romantic all the time now, it’s been a steady and consistent love. She feels at home with Iseul whether they’re in Copperdale in their own house or a cabin in Windenburg or anywhere in the world. “Love you, Issy,” Megan says softly now. “Love you too, Megs,” Iseul says, tracing the straps of Megan’s dress and making her shiver and move closer.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸(AHHHH IMPENDING BUDDIE REUNION IM SO SCARED I HOPE IT GOES WELL!!!!)

🦮🦮🦮🦮🦮(loving darling cranberry and I want Buck and Eddie to address their tension!)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(switcharoo world now with a pending will reveal! Can’t wait!)

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️(TWATYTK my beloved i love seeing happy established Buddie!)

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊 (oooh we love a dramatic reunion in a rain storm!)

It is taking all my restraint to not send you 30+ emojis for each story because I’m just that excited about your writing! You’re wonderful thanks for sharing!

HI AGAIN!!!!! You can send as much as you want I've been getting some huge ones haha.

48 for 🩸(IT GOES A LOT OF WAYS):

---

Everyone is tired and emotional and overwhelmed. So even after Eddie has showered and changed into pajamas - and eaten another peanut butter sandwich and a full orange - they all agree to go to bed early without too much further conversation. Better to hash things out with a fresh mind.

“Do you even sleep at night?” Sophia had asked while Eddie’s mouth was stuffed full of orange slices. “Because most of the vampires we’ve met are semi-nocturnal.”

Eddie had scoffed. Like he’s some sort of creature. But, to be fair… His body would choose daytime sleeping if it had a choice. 

“Well, if I sleep during the day, I’m more likely to spontaneously turn into a bat when the sun goes down.” Eddie had retorted. 

When Sophia called him a dick, he knew he deserved it. 

Which brings him to now, hiding from them both a little, in the confines of a bedroom that is technically his, but smells like Buck. Feels like Buck. Has been Buck’s. Hiding from them is maybe an exaggeration. Maybe it’s that he doesn’t quite know how to balance his remorse and his love and his fear in their presence. 

Just as Eddie is about to give into exhaustion and actually go to sleep, there’s a soft rap on the bedroom door. 

“Come in,” Eddie calls.

Buck cracks the door open and looks through. 

“Hey,” Eddie mumbles.

“Hi,” Buck steps in and shuts the door behind him. His right hand is shut around something. “Got a sec?”

Eddie has all the secs. He has nothing else in his life. In fact, he’s not even sure if he’s aging or not. So he might have infinite secs. Though he still needs to shave, so maybe he’s not in suspended animation. 

“Of course.” Eddie says. 

“Forgot this earlier,” Buck mumbles. He walks across the room to where Eddie is sitting on the bed and presses something cool and metal into Eddie’s palm. 

He knows instantly what it is.

Eddie releases a shaky breath as he looks at the contents of his palm. His medallion. The St. Christopher medallion. The one he’d lost the night Kim killed him. The night he almost killed Buck.

“You had it,” Eddie says, squeezing the hard metal and looking gratefully up at Buck. 

“It broke off when…” Buck can’t finish.

“Oh,” Eddie fills in the blanks. “I didn’t entirely remember.”

Buck nods. “I had the chain fixed.”

“Thank you for keeping it safe,” Eddie whispers.

---

15 for 🦮 (they shall get there!):

---

It probably could have gone on like that - steady and unchanging - for a while, if not for Bobby and Athena’s dinner party. Usually, they’d have it at their house. In the backyard. A nice barbecue or something. But, because Bobby and Athena’s wedding plans were soured by Bobby’s suspension, Shannon dying, and Buck losing a leg, they never had a proper party. Just a small courthouse ceremony with the kids. So now they’ve invited their closest friends and family out to a dinner at a fancy seafood place in Redondo Beach, months later, to properly celebrate. 

This is, of course, not a problem on its own. In fact, it’s a lovely thing and Buck is very happy to be invited. Bobby continuing to include Buck in his life means more than Buck can properly express. 

The problem is the small fact that, on his way to an upscale restaurant in which he dresses in proper slacks and an ironed shirt, Buck decides to forgo bringing Cranberry. He really doesn’t think much of the decision at first. She’s okay home alone for a few hours. He’s got a wire crate set up for her now. And he’s not even driving. Maddie and Chim are picking him up.

---

30 for 🚨(I'm so close toa big moment I have to be careful what I post here):

---

It’s a loud afternoon turned quiet night. After Eddie gets home from the lawyer’s, fate changed in ink, he returns home to find a clingy, shaken Christopher. 

“Tia said you had a bad night at work and Buck said you were hurt but not as hurt as you could have been but you have bruises everywhere, and are you okay, Daddy?”

Eddie can’t fault him. He was scared of being lost to his son, too. So instead of talking to Buck about things, like he might have, they spend the day comforting Christopher. Spending easy, uncomplicated hours playing Mario Kart and watching movies. Buck builds a small cushion fort and orders them Chinese food for dinner. And really, truly, it’s a beautiful sort of day. The kind of day any parent wants to lock away in their memory like a little treasure. It’s just a shame it came as the result of everyone fearing for Eddie’s life.  

Christopher crashes early. The stress has clearly caught up with him. Eddie tucks him in and reads him a story and stays with him a little bit longer than he might, usually. He’s getting bigger. Older. Soon he won’t even want this. And Eddie will have only gotten a fraction of these years. To think, he was so certain fatherhood wouldn’t suit him. That he would be bad at it. Maybe he isn’t anything to write home about, but he thinks of how he pulled himself out of a watery grave for this boy, he thinks about how he is willing to plan for the worst to protect him, and Eddie thinks maybe he has some merits. 

He hopes, sincerely, that his life isn’t cut short. That he gets some time in this role. He loves it so dearly, now.

“I missed you yesterday,” Chris yawns as Eddie puts the storybook down on his nightstand. He cuddles his tiny body into Eddie’s chest. 

“I missed you, too,” Eddie whispers, stroking his curly hair. “So much.”

One day, maybe, Eddie will feel like his son is old enough to hear that he loved him so much he refused to drown. The same way Buck had refused to drown that day at the pier.

---

45 for ⚡️:

THIS IS A RATHER SPOILERY SECTION SO PROCEED WITH CAUTION!!!

---

The thing is, Buck can’t forget about it. Not just during the blurry, hungover morning after Maddie and Chimney’s wedding. But in the weeks after, either. His brain seems to have clamped onto it with a vice grip. 

Almost as much fun as we’ll have at our wedding.

A funny little sentence that Eddie didn’t seem to remember saying the next morning. Though, given the way Eddie complained about his hangover for the following fourteen hours, Buck thinks there must be a decent amount he doesn’t remember. The important thing is, Buck remembers. 

Buck remembers, and Buck can do with that information as he pleases. And what he pleases might very well be to give Eddie that fun, happy wedding he was drunkenly talking about. 

See, Buck thinks - after a totally reasonable amount of time spent considering this - that Eddie wasn’t just drunk and joking. He thinks he does want it. Even if he’s not saying so in sober conversation yet. When they got together, Eddie had said he wanted everything with Buck. And so far, the uncertainty about more children has been the only exception in that totality. But Buck knows Eddie takes marriage seriously. He knows Eddie takes them seriously. And he had really, truly seemed to love Maddie and Chim’s wedding. So it seems like a natural next step. Not just to check off boxes, but because the idea of celebrating their commitment to each other feels right. Buck wants that. If Eddie wants that too, then they should do it. 

So, three weeks after Maddie and Chim’s wedding, just as April is about to fade into May, Buck decides. 

He’s going to ask Eddie to marry him. 

He just has to plan how. 

☆☆☆

Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. It settled over him like a warm blanket when he was drunk at the wedding, but even sober and with distance, it still feels right. He wants to be married to Buck. 

If he’s going sheerly on impulse, and what his heart says, he wants to be married to Buck, like, yesterday. Two years ago, even. If he’s going with what his head says - notoriously known for confusing him and leading him down the path to self-doubt - Eddie has concerns. Not about Buck, of course. Never about Buck. Buck is, despite some of his more baffling moments, perhaps the most marriageable person Eddie has ever known. Truly just husband material. If Buck was the only variable, it would be a no-brainer.

Unfortunately, Eddie has a habit of taking no-brainers and adding quite an afflicted brain to them. 

It’s not Chris, either. Even with Christopher’s initial concerns about their relationship. If anything, marrying Buck would stamp out any of those doubts he had about Buck leaving. Hell, if they were married, Buck could do a pretty simple step-parent adoption, if he wanted. Not that Eddie has researched that. Point is, he thinks Christopher would be glad if Eddie told him he was considering this.  So, really, once again, as with many things, Eddie is the source of his own frustrations. Classic Eddie. Though beating himself up for wanting to think through a significant life decision like a marriage - a second marriage - doesn’t seem fair either.

---

And finally, 18 stormy sentences for 🌊:

---

Eddie chases after him. He closes the door behind him, thankful for the dampening effect on the noise of the storm. 

“Eddie? Hi.” Maddie says warily from across the bar. She’s holding a bundle of sleeping bags in her arms. 

“Hi, Maddie,” Eddie says.

“You’re dripping everywhere,” Buck tells him, not bothering to even look back over his shoulder. 

Eddie holds his tongue, despite his brain’s urge to point out the absurdity of this comment. 

Eddie tries again. “Buck-”

“Oh, it’s probably Evan.” He cuts him off. 

Probably. Not definitely. 

Eddie can work with that.

“Okay, Evan. Please reconsider."

[centralperkchenford]

Chenford + secret marriage

All these people think love's for show (But I would die for you in secret)

Chenford + secret marriage

As soon as I saw this prompt I knew this was what I wanted to do! I hope you like it! 🫶🏻

“Let’s go get married.” Tim whispers into her hair one morning. Lucy turns around in his arms and gives him a look.

“What?” She asks him with her eyebrows raised. “We are getting married in 4 months.” But Tim shakes his head and leans forward to press his lips to her forehead.

“No. Let’s go get married today.” He says. “I don’t want to wait four more months for you to be my wife. I want to marry you now.”

Lucy blinks at him a little confused. When he had proposed and she had started planning the wedding he said he was fine with waiting and planning a wedding. As long as she was the one walking down the aisle towards him, he was fine. And so she did, the venue was book and paid for. The vendors were paid, she had a wedding dress and even the save the dates were sent out. It was a little late to just cancel the wedding.

“Tim, we are having a wedding in four months that is already paid for. We can’t just cancel.”

“I’m not saying to cancel our wedding. We can still have it but I want to marry you at the courthouse today. Just you and me. I love you so much Lucy and I know it’s just a piece of paper but I want to start the rest of our lives together. Today.”

Lucy stares at him, her eyes searching his face for any indication this may be some sort of pre-marriage Tim Test. But his face is genuine and full of love. He really wants to marry her today.

“Okay.” She says quietly. “Okay Tim. Let’s get married today.”

“Yeah?” He asks a boyish grin on his face. “Okay baby. I’ll set it up.” He kisses her once more on the forehead before he slides out of bed and heads to the living room.

***

They don’t end up getting married that day it’s a lot of bells and whistles to sort through. However two days after Tim proposes the idea they are able to snag a time. They get their marriage license and an officiant. They are told they don’t need a witness which bodes well in their favor since they are doing this secretly.

Lucy must admit it is kind of nice to put on a simple white sun dress and slip on some simple shoes. And even though she is still looking forward to putting on her wedding dress and walking down the aisle. This is nice too, it feels private and intimate. This wedding is just for them.

She smiles when she sees Tim waiting for her, he’s in dress pants and a nice shirt. He looks as handsome as ever. She stands in front of him as the officiant does his thing. She searches his face again like she did two mornings ago to see if he was serious about this.

She sees only love and affection in his eyes shining back at her. Lucy smiles back at him hoping to convey just how much she loves him.

“Do you Tim Bradford take this do you take this woman to be your wife, to live together in (holy) matrimony, to love her, to honor her, to comfort her, and to keep her in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?“

Tim smiles at Lucy. “I do.”

The officiant turns to Lucy and repeats it. “I do.” Says Lucy smiling softly at Tim and wanting nothing more than to reach out and kiss him.

Soon.

They exchange the rings, they both opted to get silicone rings they could wear to work. Tim slips the thin band onto Lucy’s fingers and brings it up to his mouth to give her finger a quick kiss. Lucy slides Tim’s ring on his finger.

“I now pronounce you man and wife.” Says the officiant and then he steps back as Tim surges forward to kiss her, dipping her down once and bringing her back up. Lucy giggles as he does grabbing onto his shirt.

Her husband.

“Now what?” She whispers. Tim kisses her forward head softly and then reaches down to take her hand.

“Now I take my wife home and show her how much I love her.” He says into her ear as they walk out of the courthouse. She giggles again and she can’t quite believe this is real. That they got secretly married and honestly she doesn’t regret it at all.

“You know we have to keep this a secret right?” She says to him. “You can’t wear your ring at work. Yet.”

He looks over at her with wonder in his eyes, and let’s go of her hand. “I love you so much Lucy. You have no idea how grateful I am that we did this.” He steps down so he’s looking up at her for once. “I can’t wait to marry you in 4 months again.”

Lucy licks her lips as she looks at him and then loops her arms around his neck. “I would marry you again and again if it meant I would be with you forever.” She says. “I love you too Tim.”

He grabs her by the waist without warning and she squeals at the sudden movement. He spins her around and then kisses her and she pours all the love she has for him in that one kiss. Her husband. Her forever.

***

They get married again 4 months later in front of their family and friends. And it’s true what she told him on those courthouse steps 4 months ago, she would marry him again and again if it meant being with him forever. Because even now as he gazes down at her as she reads her vows she knows this is her forever. She said it in the courthouse and she is saying it now she will cherish Tim for the rest of her life. She will love him forever.

They say I do (again) and before Grey can even get his next words out Tim is kissing Lucy. She barely hears the crowd laughing or Grey mumbling Jesus Christ under his breath, but she does hear Tim whisper I love you against her lips.

She sighs happily as he pulls back and tucks her into his side and leans over to whisper into her ear. “I love you.”

She smiles at him and then he’s taking her hand and leading her as their friends and family clap and congratulate them.

And yeah this was definitely a forever kind of thing.

[justanothersimsblog]

Ibis and bachelor parties

Since I'm posting/rebloging Eti+Troy’s it made me think of this.

Ibis would offer, nay, insist on throwing all of his siblings' bachelor/ette parties. Even though he'll deny all of them reciprocation on account of "I'm never getting married"

Ari won't take him on the offer because she'll have a courthouse wedding, so he'll insist they must have a celebratory party instead. Had he had the opportunity he would've offered Xavier to do his bachelor party too.

Ash would allow him to do whatever party he wants, she doesn't care about the bachelorette, the wedding itself its what's important since it's the romantic part. He'll also offer Matthias to do his bachelor party so perhaps he'd get to do both.

Benny I think will allow him. Ibis is already preparing for some themed party, either aliens or robots. (I was gonna ramble on more about this but I shall spare ya'll). He'll, once again, also offer his services to the other half but I'm thinking she'll decline. @drudragonrose

Blaze will once again not give him the opportunity and this one in particular will annoy Ibis because it would've been his excuse to go to a lesbian bar or club.

Timmy will allow it, whenever it'll happen. Of course, Ibis' plans for this one includes fairies. He’d even go as far as try to bribe the actual fairy princess he knows to give the groom a lap dance. I'm thinking she says a big fat no to this, but at least internally, she's laughing at the request.

(Will we see any of these weddings or parties in my game/story? Idk)

[hangon-silvergirl]

getting away with something (also available on ao3)

words and art by @hangon-silvergirl

Eddie and Chrissy burst out of the courthouse doors and into the late afternoon sunshine, hand-in-hand, breathless and beaming. She's his wife (Wife! Wife! Wife!) and he's her husband (HOLY SHIT), and Eddie almost feels like they're getting away with something. And maybe they are! As Chrissy turns to him with her megawatt smile stretching from ear-to-ear, Eddie doesn't resist the dramatic urge that bubbles into his brain; he spins Chrissy out and away from him, twirling her back into his arms and pulling her tight, reveling in the way she slots so perfectly against his chest. She's an eighteen-year-old, spur-of-the-moment bride—dolled up in a silky, lacey, poufy dress that she'd found at the thrift store—and she sighs into him like there's no question that this is where she's meant to be. And maybe it is.

Comparatively Eddie is sporting his least gaudy button-up and the only jeans he has with no holes in them. (And not that clothes matter much; he'd have married Chrissy naked if he'd had to.) "Shall we go home, Mrs. Munson?" he asks her, bursting at the seams with pleasure, high on this moment and on the promise in their wide-open future. "Yes please, Mr. Munson," she replies with a giggle. Another dramatic urge takes hold of him, and so Eddie leans into Chrissy and scoops her up bridal style. She makes a little eek! of surprise as he does so, then glows with pleasure once she realizes what he's done. Eddie carries her down the steps, out of the bubble of the last hour, and back into mundane Hawkins, where the van is sitting by a busted parking meter. Passersby are already double-taking at the sight of them, their expressions melting from casual indifference to blatant shock at lightspeed. They both spot Mrs. O'Donnell gaping at them from the mailbox two doors down, hands frozen mid-stamp-lick. Eddie and Chrissy wave at her, and, amazingly, blinking rapidly like she's been reset, the old crone waves back. Eddie sets Chrissy down lightly then kisses her desperately, absolutely nothing able to wipe the smiles off of both of their probably dumb, totally lovesick faces. After they break apart, they climb into the van. "N.I.B" by Black Sabbath blares appropriately out of the tinny speakers as Eddie starts the ignition. They've got aluminum cans and a cardboard sign proclaiming them Just Married attached to the bumper, and as they start driving away, they can hear the merry jingle-clink of former Chef Boyardee smacking off of the pavement as Ozzy proclaims I will give you those things you thought unreal. As the Munson's (THE MUNSONS! Smack that shit on a Christmas card!) peel out of downtown and head back to Forest Hills (drawing more eyes and discombobulated attention as they go), Eddie thinks that he and Chrissy won't have to post a marriage announcement in the Hawkins Post; they're like their own little unconventional parade, and everyone and their mother (including Chrissy's, ha!) will know what they've done before suppertime. Chrissy reaches across the center console and threads their fingers together, looking at him like he's blessed and unquantifiable and good enough to eat. Which, Jesus Christ, how is he such a lucky son-of-a-bitch? Eddie's never been happier to know that he's about to become a scandalous source of gossip; has never been more determined to disprove the assumptions that he knows are coming. With this perfect-for-him woman in the passenger seat, and the whole of forever in front of them to conquer for better or worse, the inevitable circle-jerk of narrowminded opinions doesn't really phase him, because they hold no weight. No matter how many idiots out there end up tutting and sighing and saying that he and Chrissy don't have what it takes, and what a shame... (Eddie squeezes Chrissy's hand, feels her wedding ring dig against his fingers, and thanks the universe for the gift of her; swears to God, if he's even out there, that Eddie will never take her for granted.) They do.

[sims-half-crazy]

Dartford, California Early 1929

My dear sister,

I know that once you read the contents of this letter you'll be quite put out with me, but isn't that a brother's, a younger brother to be exact, job? I hope you, Frances, and your boys are fairing well. It comes as no surprise to me that you still reside in your seaside home. I'm happy to know that you've finally convinced Frances to live with you. She had no business trying to live in our childhood home by her lonesome. Despite her efforts and beliefs, one cannot survive off biscuits and jam. Even jam made from your own garden. Are you properly annoyed with me yet for not getting to the reason for my letter?

I'm happy to announce that Miss Lena Zofi Lewandowski is now my wife and mother to the boys. We had been talking of having a proper affair, but with everything that is currently going on we decided that it was more prudent to wed at the courthouse. Lena is very excited to expand our brood; I, on the other hand, will be quite happy to just be wed, but I do wonder if I'll miss my single life. I don't think I shall - Lena is a breath of fresh air into the putrid mess that was my life. We've begun the paperwork to have Lena properly adopt Frank and Everett, and on top of that she's found us a new, larger apartment. It's just across the street from where I had been living, but it's on the top floor and the views are quite lovely. I cannot wait for the flowers to really begin blooming to take in the splendor from these 3rd floor windows. I do worry about those windows, there are no bars or anything to keep the children from falling out of an open window. I shall have to ask the superintendent about making that upgrade.

I have enclosed a few pictures of my new family for you and Frances to enjoy. I doubt your boys will care, being that they're 13 now. I well remember being a lad of that age.

With love and affection, your favorite brother, GG

[bropunzeling]

1, 17, and 25 again :)

is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

like i told maggie girl!leon and matthew's courthouse elopement is important to me, but you know what else is important to me? the real, big, fancy, sappy production of marriage bets matthew and leon's real wedding. i know in my heart that that fic would be very funny and also have big feelings. can you imagine the rat family shenanigans???? also i think matthew has to give leon a real proposal, it's only fair. i just have not yet had the space or time to think about it, due to the current wip and my brain being dumb. but maybe this can be my outlet for my own looming wedding planning. we shall see.

if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

don't be afraid of conflict! conflict makes things richer. and don't be afraid of letting people sit in the pit of despair for a bit. that also makes things richer. you'll suffer (while writing it), but you'll be happy about it (when the finished product is better than you anticipated).

copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

aw thanks pal :) this selection is uhhh nsfw BUT i just really love the pre-playoffs sex scene from girl!leon and i really like this particular paragraph:

They’re uncoordinated as they move up the bed, less graceful than two professional athletes should be. Leon doesn’t care. Matthew kneels on the bed between her open legs, runs a hand up from belly to collarbone and back again. The pass of his hand over her skin sends Leon right back to the edge again, like her orgasm never happened. Somewhere below her navel, a cavern has opened up, huge and gaping, making her ache between her legs. “Please,” she keeps saying. It doesn’t feel like begging; or rather, it does, but it doesn’t matter. There’s pride, and then there’s this—the graze of Matthew’s knuckles under the curve of her breasts, the heat of his thighs as he holds her open, the brush of his cock over her stomach. Each touch makes her shudder as she waits for the next, and the next, and the next. So much, and not enough. She wants him with her, inside her. She wants to feel him all throughout her body, and for him to feel her; to no longer know where one of them starts and the other stops. She wants things with him she’s never wanted with anyone else.

because i think it nicely balances the physical and the emotional - it's very horny, obvi, but also like, we've gone beyond horniness now, the things that she wants are more than what they've been doing. that scene in general is just one i'm really proud of for balancing the sex and the emotional imbalance and the physicality (esp dealing with the playoff injuries) and also giving our girl time to have multiple Big Realizations. i really like it! i think it's one of those ones where it's like, yeah, i can do a LOT with a sex scene :)

[becoration]

How to decorate a welcome corner at a wedding

Post has been published on becoration

How to decorate a welcome corner at a wedding

Summertime is one of the favorite seasons for couples to get married. Perhaps you are finalizing the details for your wedding, or maybe you have started planning for next year. One of those details might be the welcome corner. But, how to decorate a welcome corner at a wedding?

If you are not sure what we are talking about, or you do not have much of an idea on how to decorate it to make it original and unique at your wedding, so all the guests can enjoy it, then this is something you should know. Shall we begin?

What is a welcome corner at a wedding

As you know, a wedding is divided into two parts. Sometimes three. The first one is the church, the Town Hall, or the courthouse, depending on where you are getting married. It is true that sometimes it does not have to be just those places, you can get married at a house, on the beach… But usually it’s those.

The second part is the reception, which happens at a restaurant, a house, etc. And the third, optional for many, is the post-reception party. In most cases, it takes place at the same location as the reception, but sometimes it’s different.

Well, a welcome corner at a wedding is basically a small space where the wedding is announced and decorated in a very similar way to how it will be found inside.

Of course, there are bigger and smaller corners. Some allow guests to take photos (like a photo booth) and others simply have a sign announcing the wedding of the couple and that’s it. In other words, there are multiple possibilities to decorate a welcome corner at a wedding.

When several weddings are held in the same place, the welcome corner is very useful for guests to know exactly where the wedding they are attending is.

How to decorate a welcome corner at a wedding

Now that you have a better idea of what a welcome corner at a wedding is, it’s time to move on to decorating it. And here we must tell you that there are endless possibilities to decorate a welcome corner at a wedding, from the simplest and classic to the most modern that involve the guests themselves.

This means that each one is totally different from the other. Each bride and groom can design it to their liking or to the liking of the wedding. It means that not all will have a sign with the same information (personalizing it, but having the same details), nor will the decoration be the same.

One of the essential elements to decorate a welcome corner at a wedding will be the sign. You can put the names of the couple, welcome the guests, put a meaningful phrase for the newlyweds…

Next to the sign, another almost ‘mandatory’ element when decorating a welcome corner at a wedding are the flowers, whether framing the sign, below it, in vases, in baskets… Of course, those flowers can be to thank the guests or simply as decoration.

Another common element in a welcome corner at a wedding is the reception table. It is a decorative table, but it can also be a piece of furniture, for example, a desk, a chest of drawers, etc. On top of it, flowers are placed, but there can also be a guestbook for guests to leave their best wishes, instruction signs (for example, to know at which table they should sit, or what the couple wants them to do).

Finally, the details for the guests. We are not talking about the gifts the couple gives at the reception, but welcome details, such as a fan, handkerchiefs, drinks, slippers (especially for the after-party), etc. These can decorate a welcome corner at a wedding.

As an optional touch, you could think of adding more things like proper lighting (especially for evening and night weddings), photos of the couple, signs, music, tobacco tables, candy tables…

Ideas to decorate a welcome corner at a wedding

Finally, we want to give you some ideas to decorate a welcome corner at a wedding. There are many decorations to choose from, so we present just a few:

Rustic style: you will need a wooden welcome sign (an old chalkboard also works), burlap, and lace. Get some wooden barrels or antique tables and place lace on the edges. On top, put rustic vases with wildflowers. Leave space for a guestbook that will be open inside an antique wooden chest. And lastly, put some garlands or candles in vintage lamps.

Bohemian style: opt for a handmade welcome sign with hanging colorful fabrics. Use a Persian rug and cushions to place it on the floor creating that corner. Add flowers and plants in ceramic pots and hanging macramé. Also, put a table with natural objects (feathers, shells…) and gifts for the guests. To finish, a flower garland and some dreamcatchers.

Romantic style: go for a classic welcome sign with fresh flowers around it. Use a table or a piece of furniture that looks classic as well and cover it with silk, lace, etc. If it has drawers, you can open some and place pastel and white flower bouquets. Place crystal candle holders on top and small welcome cards with a romantic and elegant typography for the guests.

Have you taken notes on decorating a welcome corner at a wedding?

via: MiMub in Spanish

[halfassedfangirling]

So tonight I had to say goodbye to my dream wedding. I've known for the last few weeks, honestly, when we did the math for the catering and the venue. That was already a lot of money. Can't have a smaller guest list or people will be offended (and by people I mean my mother-in-law). And if catering and venue should make up half the budget, then we're looking at 30k. I don't have a degree (yet). I don't have a career. Right now I'm staying at home with our child. Even if my fiancé is earning well now, that's just him. I can't contribute anything. My parents can't contribute anything and I'd be embarrassed to ask. They've already told me that I'm their most expensive child. The last time we fought, I was determined to pay them back, at least all the money they had put into me in recent years and then I felt really down because how could I get 5k together? My grandmother might be able to contribute, but I'd kill myself before I asked her for money for something as frivolous as a wedding. She has already given me so much. My fiancé's mother had always loudly declared that they would pay for our wedding, which I felt odd about, because she's not that educated and doesn't make that much money (working jobs that you don't need a degree or apprenticeship for, which I'm not knocking because I don't have a degree or apprenticeship either) and once other people are paying for your wedding, it's no longer your wedding, but theirs.

But we sat down tonight with his parents to look at the guest list and the catering/venue budget and crunch the numbers. Watching my fiancé and his father argue made me not want to have a wedding at all.

So the venue I dreamed of (a palace, but they are a dime a dozen in Germany) is out of the question. So is probably any other palace. And they're saying, "Oh, but you could still have a nice wedding." Where? In a barn? In a village hall with the gymnasium flooring? Sorry to be a bitch about it, but that's not what I want. I dreamed of an elegant, romantic, admittedly expensive wedding reception in a palace ballroom. I dreamed of being a princess for a day. "But the atmosphere is so much better when people are relaxed. What's the point of a pretty backdrop if it's sterile? People won't be able to let loose in a hoity-toity environment like that." Well, if that's the case, why don't we celebrate our wedding reception in a McDonald's? That's not hoity-toity at all.

If I have to make big compromises like that for my wedding, then I'd rather not have one. Let's put the money towards property, a house. I would be fine with spending a lot of money on one day, if I got the party I wanted. The venue, the menu, the stationery, the dress, the flowers... I would be a bit disappointed, but fine with just doing a courthouse ceremony and saving money for something we would have more of than a fancy party. But to compromise? Never. Unfortunately, I'm not marrying myself. And my fiancé still wants a wedding. Church service, wedding reception. He thinks it's not bad if his friends can "let loose" more. Yes, let's just have a boozefest, shall we? I don't want to settle on a wedding I don't like. I don't want a rustic wedding in a barn. I can't say that I really don't care anymore and that my fiancé should plan everything and leave me out of the planning entirely because I am totally disinterested, or he'll be upset. I KNOW the marriage is more important than the wedding. I know it's his wedding, too. I despise the idea of spending a lot of money, not as much, but still a lot, on a wedding that's not my style. That's the farthest thing from what I've been dreaming about. I tried to hype myself up for it. I told him, "It's OK, people still have beautiful budget weddings. Beautiful rustic weddings, beautiful industrial weddings, beautiful garden weddings..." But I'm not interested in those types of weddings. I tried to go on Pinterest and get inspired by different, less expensive style weddings, but I guess it's too soon. It just made me feel bitter and enraged.

I know I'm being superficial and bitchy. But it's hard to let go of a dream that I'd been dreaming so long. And people will say that I'm pouting, but I am a sort of all-or-nothing person. Not great at compromise, I guess. Maybe it's because it's not much of a compromise? A compromise would mean I get some of what I want. But the dress I picture in my head... wouldn't that look silly in a barn? The flowers and decor, wouldn't those clash with the gymnasium flooring of a village hall? Shouldn't things match and vibe together? You can't put a sow in a dress, and you can't have an elegant, princess-style wedding in a location like what my in-laws suggested. I know I'm being terrible. But if my wedding can't be as I'd like it I'd rather not have one. I'd rather not have a wedding than have a wedding I'm not into.

Does that make sense? Someone tell me I'm making sense. Someone tell me the bolded sentence doesn't make me a bitchy would-be bridezilla.

I don't know how I'm going to shift my tastes and mindset. My fiancé is a wonderful, lovely person and an amazing father to our child and a thoughtful, considerate partner who has gone through so much with me. He's put up with so much of my shit. I will have to find a way to grin and bear it and seem interested and engaged. If he wants a wedding, he should get a wedding. And that means I'll have to be by his side and convince him that I'm having a good time. It'd be unfair to him to pout and sulk. Even though that's all I feel like doing.

I deleted my 'Wedding' Pinterest board. I felt like that was the first step. My plan is to not look at anything wedding related and then piggyback off of whatever my fiancé comes up with. Don't know how to not get my hopes up or fall in love with something too expensive otherwise.

[freycmccdougcl]

"I mean, I don't plan on planning out a fairytale... This sounds like an out of hand wedding already when you put it like that." Freya laughed softly, pink blooming on her cheeks at the thought. It was important to her that Damien not think she was the type of woman who needed a lot of material things to make her happy. At the end of the day, he could have dragged her to a courthouse now and she would have cried tears of happiness she realised. Even though she knew this was a long term relationship for her, it was in that moment that she was beginning to realise that she did see all this with him. "Shall we go and get our photos taken then? I feel like I would regret not taking the opportunity in a place like this. Who knows if we'll get this chance again."

"Bright flowers and a scenic arena? Sounds like the photographs will be picturesque. It'll be a whole damn fairytale," he mused, speaking as though he could see it all playing out in real time before his eyes. He'd be lying if it wasn't himself he saw standing at the end of the aisle, waiting for his beautiful blonde bride in a fitted tux. "We certainly share a similar perspective on that. As lovely as a pretty place is, being able to share the day with loved ones that mean the most is what's truly the paramount of importance."