#i’d be proposing marriage in like two seconds)

[gregmarriage]

i forgot that ppl know what my voice sounds like, bc i was about to make a whole post about hearing my own voice on mic, then i was like, yeah no, ppl are aware my voice is weird imaoooo

[soobibabe]

chapter one - the proposal

synopsis: Y/N, a 28-year-old dreamer whose plans for marriage and motherhood crumbled when her fiancé, Jae-on, decided to "see other people," leaving her adrift in a sea of unfulfilled expectations. Just as she’s about to face the cringe of attending his baby shower with his new girlfriend, her best friend Jungkook swoops in with a wild idea; why not embark on a platonic co-parenting adventure together?

pairings: jeon jungkook + reader genre ▸ romance [mature content in future chapters

Jungkook’s place felt like a second home to you. There was something about the way the late afternoon light filtered through his sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden glow across the room, that always made you feel… safe. His apartment wasn’t anything fancy, just a cozy, lived-in space, but it was warm, inviting—everything you needed right now. You sank deeper into the couch, clutching the throw pillow to your chest, feeling its familiar softness as you stared absently at the half-finished jigsaw puzzle on his coffee table. There were still pieces scattered everywhere, a mess that neither of you seemed too bothered to clean up. It was one of those things you’d start but never quite finish—like most of your plans lately.

The sound of clinking dishes came from the kitchen as Jungkook rummaged through his cabinets. "Tea or coffee?" he called, breaking the comfortable silence.

"Tea," you answered, your voice quieter than you meant it to be. You rubbed your forehead, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you all over again.

You heard him chuckle softly. "You okay in there? You’ve been weirdly quiet since you got here."

Was it okay? Not really. But you didn’t want to say that out loud just yet. "Yeah, I’m fine. Just... thinking."

"Thinking doesn’t look good on you," he teased as he stepped back into the living room, carrying two steaming mugs. He handed you one, sitting down next to you on the couch, close enough that his shoulder brushed yours. "Talk to me."

You took the mug from him, warming your hands on the ceramic before exhaling a long sigh. "It’s Jae-on."

There it was. His name, still bitter on your tongue, even after all this time. It had been over a year since Jae-on called off the engagement. A year and a half, actually, but who was counting? You, apparently. You hated that you were still thinking about him, that he still had some kind of hold over you, even though you both moved on.

Jungkook gave you a knowing look, resting his arm on the back of the couch as he turned slightly to face you. "What’s he done now?"

You hesitated, feeling the familiar knot of frustration and resentment tightening in your chest. "He’s... getting married."

Jungkook didn’t blink. "I see." His voice was calm, measured, like he was processing it carefully.

"And not just that," you continued, your fingers tightening around the mug. "They’re having a baby. Jae-on and Garam."

You said her name like it was a bad word, which, in your mind, it was. Garam. The girl from high school who always seemed to have her life together, who always got what she wanted, and apparently now, that included your ex-fiancé.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. "Yu Garam? The one who used to follow you around like a puppy?"

"The very one." You groaned, sinking further into the couch. "Can you believe it? They’re throwing a baby shower, and guess who’s invited."

His expression softened, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "You don’t have to go, you know."

"I know." You stared down into your tea, swirling it absently. "But part of me feels like... I should. Like I have something to prove."

"To Jae-on?"

"To myself, I guess." The words came out slower than you expected, as if you were admitting it for the first time. "I thought I’d have it all by now, you know? The husband, the kids, the house with the white picket fence. And instead, I’m sitting here... single. Childless. Invited to my ex’s baby shower." You let out a humorless laugh. "It’s ridiculous."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, just watching you. His presence, as always, was steady, grounding. "It’s not ridiculous, Y/N. You had a plan. It just... didn’t go the way you thought."

You shook your head. "My plan’s been wrecked, Kook. Nothing’s gone the way I wanted it to."

"That doesn’t mean you can’t still have what you want," he said, his tone thoughtful. There was something about the way he said it, though, that made you glance at him, catching a glint of something unfamiliar in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

He hesitated, like he was weighing his words carefully. "You want kids, right? You’ve always wanted to be a mom."

"Yeah... obviously." You frowned slightly. "But that’s not happening anytime soon."

"Why not?"

You blinked, unsure where this was going. "Because... I’m single? You kind of need someone to make that happen, Kook."

He shifted on the couch, leaning forward a little, his arm brushing against yours. The closeness felt... different. Warmer. He was looking at you in a way you couldn’t quite place, a softness to his gaze that made your stomach flip.

"You don’t need someone else," he said softly, his voice almost a whisper. "You have me."

You froze, your mind trying to catch up to what he was saying. "Wait... what?"

Jungkook smiled, a small, almost shy smile, which was so unlike him it threw you off balance. "I’m serious. You want a baby, right? Why not do it together?"

You stared at him, your heart suddenly beating louder in your ears. "Together? Like... us?"

"Yeah." His eyes were steady, sincere. "We’ve known each other for years. We’d make great parents. We don’t need to complicate things with romance or any of that. We could just... raise a kid together. Be a family."

For a second, you didn’t know what to say. The idea was... insane. Wasn’t it? And yet, as he sat there, his expression so earnest, so serious, you found yourself... considering it.

"But, Kook," you started, your voice shaky, "this is huge. I mean... having a baby? That’s not something you just... do."

"I know," he said, his voice still soft, his eyes never leaving yours. "But you’re my best friend. I’d be with you every step of the way. You wouldn’t have to do it alone."

Your mind was spinning. This was Jungkook. Your best friend. The one person who had been there for you through everything, and now... he was offering you something you hadn’t even thought was possible. A way to have the family you wanted without waiting for someone else to come along.

But was it really that simple?

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed on the coffee table. You glanced down and saw the email notification. You already knew who it was from.

"Baby shower," you muttered, picking up the phone and showing him the screen. "Jae-on and Yu Garam are sending invites."

Jungkook’s eyes darkened slightly as he looked at the email, then back at you. "Well," he said, his voice lower now, "maybe when we go, we’ll have our own announcement to make."

You blinked, your heart jumping at the sudden shift in his tone. Was he... serious?

"You really mean that?" you whispered, searching his face for any sign that he might be joking.

But his expression was calm, sure, and when he spoke again, his voice was firm. "I’m dead serious, Y/N."

The air between you felt different now—heavier, charged with something you couldn’t quite name. This was Jungkook, your best friend. The person you trusted most in the world. And yet, here you were, teetering on the edge of something that could change everything.

"Think about it," he said softly, leaning just a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours. "It could be exactly what you need."

Taglist: @unoneed2know @lola75111 @ggukiescookies @junecat18 @futuristicenemychaos @pinkpunkdynamite @captainengineer-trixie @freshmoondragon @mar-lo-pap @whoa-jo @chimmisbae @ttanniett @jksusawife @knjjjk

[puckstories]

Forever ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Reader is mentioned having curly hair/wearing glasses. Fluff. Kinda cringe but it’s a proposal so I’d consider that acceptable (: Established relationship. Not edited.

Summary; Quinn proposes

Word Count; 2k

Author’s note; Didn’t realize this is my second fic that takes place on the living room sofa, but it’s written so I’ll just dump it here. Would love to hear your thoughts if you have any + reblogs are appreciated. -Honey

Quinn had been captivated by you from the very first time you said his name. There was something about the way it fell from your lips—soft and velvety, with a subtle rasp that sent a shiver down his spine. It wasn’t just the sound of your voice; it was the way you spoke to him, with a warmth that wrapped around his heart like a favorite song. Every time you said his name, it made his chest tighten, his pulse quicken. And you said it often.

You didn’t rely on the usual pet names his past girlfriends had favored—sweet nothings like "baby" or "babe." No, you chose his name, always. When you called for him, it was, “Quinn, can you grab this?” or “Quinn, come here.” When you told him you loved him, you didn’t let the words hang abstract in the air. You made them personal: “I love you, Quinn.” Each syllable was deliberate, an anchor tying you to him.

It wasn’t long before he realized he couldn’t get enough of it. Just six months into your relationship, his mind began wandering toward something far bigger. He found himself daydreaming about the future—your shared future. He pictured you standing across from him, framed by flowers and sunlight, saying his name again, but this time in wedding vows that would bind you together forever. The thought of hearing you say, “I do,” in front of your friends and family was enough to leave him breathless.

You hadn’t just made him feel loved—you’d made him feel seen, known, and completely yours.

“Quinn.” Your voice cuts through his wandering thoughts, pulling him sharply back into the present. It’s not loud, but it carries—a perfect mix of warmth and clarity that only you could manage. He blinks, momentarily disoriented, before his gaze finds you.

There you are, a vision that steals his breath all over again. He can hardly believe his luck—that he gets to see you like this, so at ease, so unencumbered, and utterly captivating. You’re seated at the kitchen table, papers scattered around you in a casual chaos as you focus on grading. The soft, golden hue from the overhead light bathes you in a warm glow, making you look almost otherworldly.

His lips twist into a small smile, like he hasn’t already seen your outfit today—though, of course, he has. Worn sweatpants, and his old UMICH shirt, the one you stole and now practically live in while at home. Your curly hair is piled into a loose bun, and your glasses sit low on your nose.

It had been two months since he’d first thought about proposing—two months of tucking that desire away, hiding it behind everyday moments and careful smiles. He’d never been in this deep with a woman before. The idea of marriage had always felt like something distant, meant for other people. But now? Now it sat in the back of his mind like a quiet ache, present in every thought, in every small moment with you. Eight months together. Was that long enough? Was it too soon? He wasn’t sure. The last thing he wanted was to scare you off, to move faster than you were ready for, and somehow ruin this thing between you. It terrified him, the possibility of misstepping, of losing you. But it also terrified him to wait, to let too much time pass and risk you thinking he didn’t see forever with you.

These thoughts came and went, like tides he couldn’t stop. But it was moments like this—simple, domestic, and probably boring to anyone else—that hit him hardest.

"Earth to Quinn." Your voice rings out again, light and teasing, amusement flickering between your brows.

Quinn blinks, startled back to the moment, and clears his throat as though shaking off the thoughts had stolen him away once more. His gaze refocuses on you, a small, sheepish smile playing at the corner of his mouth. "Yeah, baby. What is it?"

"You okay?" You ask, tilting your head. "I can hear your brain working all the way over here."

"Just zoned out." He says, with a dismissing shake of his head. He leans back against the armrest, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. "Yeah, just zoned out," he confirms, his voice low and a little distracted. "Sorry. Just... thinking about a few things."

You study him for a moment, noticing the way his teeth graze his bottom lip, and the way his hand lingers in his hair, like it’s searching for something to hold onto. You nod. "Wanna talk about it?"

His expression softens, the quiet earnestness of the question reaching into the place where that familiar ache still lingers. Almost instinctively, his hand stretches toward you—palm open, a silent invitation. He hesitates for just a breath, his fingers curling slightly as though unsure if he should follow through, before he nods. "C'mere a sec?"

You slide your glasses off and set them on the table, the quiet clink barely audible in the stillness of the room. Pushing back your chair, you cross the small space to Quinn. He’s waiting, his arms already lifting to pull you close the second you’re within reach. He tugs you down into his lap with an ease that feels like second nature, his thighs shifting apart instinctively to make room for you.

The moment you settle against him, his arms wrap tightly around your waist, and he buries his face against the curve of your neck. You feel the faint warmth of his breath on your skin as he exhales a deep sigh. The soft, sweet scent of you—the one he’s come to think of as home—floods his senses, easing some of the tension in his chest.

He pulls away, and leans his head back against the couch. For a moment, he just looks at you, his gaze lingering as though trying to memorize every detail, even though he knows he already has. The soft slope of your nose. The curve of your mouth. That small, almost invisible freckle just beneath your bottom lip—the one he always kisses when the warmth in his chest gets the better of him. His throat tightens, and he swallows hard, a nervous flutter building in his chest.

“What is it, Quinn?”

He takes a deep breath, his fingers brushing over your hips in gentle, absent strokes, the movement more reflex than thought. The rhythm steadies him, but only just. His mind churns, the weight of what he wants to say pressing hard against his chest. This is it, he thinks. He can’t hold it in any longer—the waiting, the second-guessing, the holding back. It’s all become unbearable. Whatever happens next, he has to let this out.

“Just thinking about us,” he begins, his voice quiet but steady. “Our relationship. How much I care about you. How lucky I feel to have you like this.” He pauses for a moment, like testing the ground beneath him before taking another step forward. “It’s been on my mind a lot lately.”

Your lips curve into a soft smile, the kind that makes him feel like gravity tilts toward you. "Yeah?" you say, your voice gentle, encouraging.

“Yeah,” he replies, barely above a murmur. His throat feels tight, his pulse hammering beneath his ribs, but he keeps his gaze locked on you. There’s something grounding about the way you look at him—like you’re holding the door open for him, not rushing him, just waiting. It gives him enough courage to keep going. “It’s just…” He exhales, his breath light and shallow. “You mean so much to me. More than I think I’ve been able to say out loud. And I keep thinking about what it would be like to make this permanent. To have this—us—be something that lasts forever.”

Your breathing hitches, the words catching you off guard, your chest tightening as his meaning begins to settle over you. Your eyes widen slightly, searching his face, and you can see it there—devotion, hope, and just the faintest hint of nerves. Your heart skips, and it feels like the entire room is holding its breath alongside you.

Quinn’s hands shift from your waist, moving up with slow, deliberate care. His fingers trace the curve of your cheek, brushing softly along your skin, his thumbs lingering just below your cheekbones. “Marry me?” he asks, the words soft, almost reverent, yet steady and sure in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. It’s not a question tossed lightly into the air; it’s a truth he’s been holding onto, waiting for the right moment to share.

Your lips part, but for a second, no sound comes out. “M-Marry you?” The words tumble out unevenly, caught between shock and something else—something overwhelming and impossibly warm blooming in your chest.

“I want forever with you, baby,” he says, pausing for a moment before speaking again. "I know this is a shitty proposal, we're both at home in our pajamas, and I don't even have a ring yet, I just...I don't want to wait anymore. I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life loving and taking care of you."

You swallow hard, your heart racing. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, and a tremulous smile starts to curve your lips. “You… you want me forever?” The words are quiet, as though testing them out, wrapping your mind around the enormity of what he’s offering.

His lips twitch into a soft, almost shy smile, his forehead resting against yours now. “Forever and then some,” he murmurs. “If you’ll have me.”

A sudden, uncontrollable squeal escapes your lips, the kind you might have been embarrassed about in any other moment. But here, it feels perfect—pure, unfiltered joy. Before you can stop yourself, you’re leaning in, your lips crashing against his in a burst of energy and love. The kiss is messy, hurried, but it’s full of all the things you can’t quite put into words.

Quinn smiles against your lips, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he leans back against the sofa, taking you with him. The movement is unhurried this time, deliberate, as though he’s savoring every second. His hands settle firmly at your back, holding you close, like he never wants to let go. The kiss deepens briefly, his lips moving softly against yours, before the two of you finally break apart, breathless but smiling.

Your forehead comes to rest against his, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. His breath mingles with yours, warm and steady, and his thumbs brush tenderly along your sides as though grounding himself in the moment. You press your hands to his chest, feeling the rhythmic pounding of his heart, and it feels like it matches the erratic beat of your own.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word spilling out of you before you even realize it. Then it comes again, louder, stronger. “Yes, yes, Quinn. Yes!” The words are wrapped in laughter, your voice trembling with happiness.

Quinn exhales a shaky breath, relief and joy flooding his expression. His hands slide to your waist, his grip firm and steady, as his eyes meet yours. They’re shining now, soft but full of something deeper, something that makes your chest feel impossibly full. “Yeah?” he murmurs, his voice low and quiet, as though still needing confirmation, still needing to hear the word from you one more time.

“Yeah,” you say, grinning so wide your cheeks ache. “Forever, Quinn. I want forever with you, too.”

His lips curve into a broad, radiant smile—the kind that makes him look younger, freer, like every weight he’s been carrying has fallen away. He lets out a quiet laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest. “You don’t know how much I needed to hear that,” he says softly, his thumb brushing along your cheek now. “You’ve just made me the happiest man alive, you know that?”

Tears prick your eyes, your laughter softening into something quieter, more emotional. You reach for his face, your fingers brushing against the rough stubble on his jaw. “I think we just made each other the happiest people alive.”

[andy-15-07]

Hi,

I love your work. Can we get a story about marcus conquering a city and then be in a political marriage with the princess of the fallen city ? She hates him at first and then of course they both fall for each other

The Princess of a Fallen City

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female reader

Word Count: 1961 | Requests are open! (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

Pedro Pascal Masterlist

The city of Lystra fell under a blood-red sky. Marcus Acacius, General of Rome, stood at the edge of the conquered city’s grand palace, his armor glinting with the remnants of battle. Soldiers celebrated in the streets, their cheers echoing through the hollow corridors of what had once been a seat of power.

Marcus’ gaze fell on the bound figure brought before him. Princess Y/N of Lystra stood tall despite the chains adorning her wrists, her eyes blazing with defiance.

“The lion of Rome,” she said mockingly, her voice sharp as a blade. “Come to gloat, have you?”

Marcus’ lips curved into a slight smile, though his dark eyes remained cold. “Gloat? Hardly. This was a necessity, not a pleasure.” He motioned to the soldiers to release her chains. “I prefer my conversations unrestrained.”

“How generous of you,” she replied, rubbing her wrists as she was freed. “Do your victories often involve slaughtering innocents?”

“War is never clean,” he said, his voice even. “And no one is truly innocent in a rebellion against Rome.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of a retort. Instead, she straightened her posture, looking every bit the queen she would have been.

Two days later, Marcus stood in the opulent hall of Lystra’s palace. The once-bright tapestries had been torn down, replaced with Roman banners. The elders of the city knelt before him, offering allegiance. But his attention wasn’t on them. It was on the proposal laid out by his advisors.

“A political marriage,” his second-in-command explained. “It will secure loyalty. The people will be less likely to rebel if their princess is bound to you.”

Marcus considered the idea, his expression unreadable. He didn’t need a wife, much less one who despised him. Yet, there was logic in the suggestion. “Summon her.”

When Y/N entered the chamber, her expression was wary. Marcus gestured for the guards to leave, leaving the two alone.

“You summoned me, General?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“I did,” he said. “Sit.”

She didn’t move. “I’d rather stand.”

“Suit yourself.” Marcus rose from his chair and walked toward her, his imposing frame towering over her. “The terms are simple. A marriage between us. You’ll remain in this palace, and your people will be spared further suffering.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You expect me to marry the man who destroyed my home?”

“Expectations are irrelevant,” Marcus said evenly. “This is a matter of necessity.”

“Necessity for whom? Certainly not for me,” she snapped.

“For your people,” he replied. “You claim to care for them, yet you’d risk their future out of spite?”

Y/N’s fists clenched. “Don’t you dare speak of care to me. You don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But I know loyalty. And I know duty. Think carefully, Princess. The choice is yours.”

Her silence stretched, heavy with tension. Finally, she spoke. “I’ll agree. But don’t think for a moment that I’ll ever forgive you.”

Marcus nodded, unperturbed. “Forgiveness isn’t required.”

The days leading to the wedding were filled with preparations. Y/N’s attendants fussed over her, but she felt like a prisoner in gilded chains. Every glance in the mirror reminded her of the man she would soon call husband—a man she loathed.

Marcus, on the other hand, approached the event with the same stoic detachment he applied to war. He made no attempt to ingratiate himself with Y/N, understanding that time and actions would speak louder than words.

The ceremony was grand but cold, much like their union. As Marcus placed the ring on Y/N’s finger, she fought the urge to recoil. His touch was firm yet impersonal.

Weeks passed, and life in the palace settled into a tense rhythm. Y/N avoided Marcus whenever possible, though their paths inevitably crossed. One evening, as she wandered the palace gardens, she heard his voice.

“You find peace here?” he asked, stepping into view.

She stiffened. “Peace is a rare commodity these days.”

“For both of us,” he said, surprising her. “You think this is easy for me?”

“Is that supposed to make me feel pity for you?” she retorted.

“No,” he said simply. “But perhaps you might understand. I do what I must for Rome. Just as you would do for Lystra.”

For the first time, she detected a hint of vulnerability in his tone. She frowned, unsure of how to respond. Instead, she walked away, leaving him alone in the fading light.

Their dynamic began to shift subtly. Marcus’ actions—small gestures of kindness, moments of unexpected humor—chipped away at her hatred. He had a way of speaking that made her question her preconceptions, though she fought against it.

One night, during a formal dinner, a senator insulted Lystra’s culture. Y/N bristled, ready to defend her people, but Marcus spoke first.

“You forget yourself,” he said coldly. “Lystra’s traditions deserve respect. They are now part of Rome.”

Y/N stared at him, startled. He met her gaze briefly before returning to his meal, as if nothing had happened.

It was during a rare moment of vulnerability that the walls between them truly began to crumble. Y/N found Marcus in the war room late at night, staring at maps with a haunted expression.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked, surprising even herself.

He looked up, startled. “No.”

She hesitated before approaching. “What keeps you awake?”

He sighed. “The faces. Of those I’ve lost. Those I’ve killed.”

For the first time, she saw the weight he carried. “Does it ever go away?”

“No,” he admitted. “But you learn to live with it.”

Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them. For the first time, she saw him as more than a conqueror. And he saw her as more than a defiant princess.

Months turned into a year, and their relationship evolved. Their shared moments grew more frequent, filled with tentative smiles and genuine laughter. Y/N found herself drawn to Marcus’ strength and quiet resilience, while he admired her fiery spirit and unyielding determination.

One evening, as they walked through the gardens, Marcus took her hand. She didn’t pull away.

“I never thought this would happen,” she admitted softly.

“Neither did I,” he said. “But I’m glad it did.”

Their lips met, tentative at first, then with a passion that spoke of everything they had endured. The past didn’t vanish, but in that moment, it no longer defined them. They were no longer conqueror and captive but two souls finding solace in each other amidst the ruins of war.

As their bond deepened, Y/N began to see Marcus in his element as a leader beyond the battlefield. He often walked through the streets of Lystra, speaking to its people. Though they were wary at first, they slowly came to respect his pragmatism and fairness. It was his way of showing that he was more than the general who had broken their gates.

Y/N joined him on these walks, observing how he handled disputes and sought to rebuild what had been destroyed. “You don’t have to do this,” she told him one day.

“I do,” he replied. “It’s my responsibility now. Just as you’ve taken on yours.”

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. “Perhaps you’re not as heartless as I thought.”

“Perhaps you’re not as inflexible as I thought,” he countered, his tone teasing.

The seasons changed, and with them, so did the hearts of the people. Y/N’s initial resentment gave way to admiration as she saw how deeply Marcus cared for the future of both Rome and Lystra. He, in turn, found in her a partner whose strength and compassion matched his own.

One evening, as they stood on the palace balcony overlooking the city, Y/N leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Do you think we’ll ever be free of the shadows of the past?” she asked.

“No,” Marcus said, wrapping an arm around her. “But we can build something new. Together.”

And for the first time since the day the city fell, Y/N believed him.

Their relationship blossomed, a delicate flower in the shadow of war. Marcus, surprised by the depth of his feelings, found himself seeking out her company. He would find excuses to visit her chambers, bringing her rare fruits from distant lands or books of poetry he thought she might enjoy. He would linger in the gardens, hoping to chance upon her, their conversations growing longer, their silences more comfortable.

One evening, as they strolled through the gardens, the moon casting long shadows across the path, Marcus stopped and turned to face her. "You know," he began, his voice husky, "I never thought I would find… this." He gestured vaguely between them.

Y/N looked at him, her eyes wide with surprise. "This?"

"This feeling," he clarified, his gaze unwavering. "This… peace. This… joy."

A blush crept up Y/N's neck. "I… I feel it too," she admitted softly, her voice barely a whisper.

Their hands brushed against each other as they reached for a fallen blossom. A jolt, electric and unexpected, passed between them. Marcus's breath hitched. He wanted to pull her close, to taste the sweetness of her lips, to lose himself in the warmth of her gaze. But he hesitated, unsure if his feelings were reciprocated.

Y/N, sensing his apprehension, took a deep breath. "Marcus," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I… I don't know how to explain it. But… being with you, even amidst the ruins, it's… it's like finding a sliver of sunlight in a darkened room."

Marcus's heart soared. He took her hand, his touch gentle, reverent. "Then let us bask in this sunlight, my princess," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

Their first kiss was a hesitant exploration, a tentative touch of lips that quickly ignited into a fierce passion. They clung to each other, their bodies trembling, their souls yearning for a connection that transcended the boundaries of their past.

In the aftermath, they lay side-by-side, the moon casting long shadows across the garden. "I never thought I would feel this way," Y/N confessed, her voice a soft sigh.

Marcus smiled, his hand tracing the curve of her cheek. "Neither did I."

Their love story continued, a delicate dance amidst the ruins of war. They faced challenges together – political intrigue, the lingering resentment of some of Lystra's citizens, and the ever-present shadow of Marcus's past. But through it all, their love grew stronger, a beacon of hope in a world scarred by conflict.

They learned to cherish the quiet moments – sharing stories by the fire, exploring hidden corners of the palace, simply enjoying each other's company. They found solace in each other's arms, their bodies seeking warmth and comfort, their souls finding a haven in the depths of their shared love.

Years later, as they sat on the balcony, watching the sun set over Lystra, a city now thriving under their joint rule, Y/N looked at Marcus, his face etched with the lines of time and the weight of his responsibilities.

"You know," she said softly, "we built something beautiful from the ashes, didn't we?"

Marcus turned to her, his eyes filled with a love that transcended time and circumstance. "We did," he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. "And it's all because of you, my love."

He leaned down and kissed her, a long, slow kiss that spoke volumes of their journey, their resilience, and the enduring power of love to heal even the deepest wounds. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the city in a warm, golden glow, they knew that their love story was far from over. It was a testament to the enduring power of hope, a beacon of light in a world that often seemed shrouded in darkness.

[dedexo]

The Proposal

Timeskip Kenma x Fem Reader

Not proofread

“What's up bros It's Kozuken. Today, I have with me (he pulls the chair you’re sitting on in frame) my beautiful girlfriend, and we’ll be playing Minecraft together!”

The chat exploded with excitement and compliments. Kenma’s viewers loved it when you joined the stream even though it wasn't often. You only joined once in a while when Kenma asked you or on special occasions. You thought today's stream was just a regular stream, and Kenma only asked you to join because why not? However, Kenma had other plans in mind.

You guys have been dating for almost 5 years now and everything was going great, sure you had arguments here and there but nothing break up worthy. Overall, Kenma was pretty content with your relationship. The thought of marriage didn't even cross his mind until Kuroo brought it up randomly one day.

**********************************************

“Sooo when’s the wedding?” Kuroo asked while sipping his tea.

“What wedding?” Kenma asked with genuine confusion.

“Are you being serious right now?” Kuroo put down his tea and stared Kenma dead in the eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Are you not planning on marrying y/n?”

“Oh….” Kenma sits there and ponders for a couple of seconds. “Well to be honest I didn't really think about marriage. It would be nice though, calling her my wife and all.” A slight blush appeared on his cheeks.

“Well you better get on with it, no girl would stay with you this long if she didn't think you were gonna eventually propose to her. And if you wait too long she might just leave you.”

**********************************************

And that’s how he ended up here nervously sitting with a ring in his pocket and you sitting next to him completely oblivious to his plan.

He planned to propose to you through Minecraft since it was the first game you guys ever played together, but throughout the whole stream, he kept questioning himself. What if you said no? Should he really do this on stream where millions of people can see? Should he have proposed a different way? What if you wanted some big fancy flowers on the beach kinda proposal? How would he recover if you rejected him in front of his fans? These thoughts plagued his mind until he realized that it was almost time for the stream to end. It was now or never.

“Before we end the stream there's something I’d like to show you y/n, follow me.” Kenma said sounding kinda uneasy.

“Okay!” You say with a bit of excitement. You noticed that he was acting kinda weird but you decided to ignore it thinking it was nothing and continued to follow him in the game.

He carried you to this super pretty area that was covered in flowers. You could tell that there was a sign in the middle of it but you were too far away to see what it said. Once you were close enough you finally read what it said. 

“WILL YOU MARRY ME Y/N💍?”

It took you a couple of seconds to process what was happening. Is this for real??

You look over at Kenma and he is on one knee with a ring in his hand.

You sat there, hands covering your mouth, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Y/n, you are the best girl I could ever ask for, I love you with all my heart and I cant imagine my life without you in it. Will you marry me?

“OH MY GOD YESSSSS!!” You jump on him causing you both to tumble over.

You guys get up off the floor and Kenma slides the ring on your finger

The stream chat was exploding with congratulations and people laughing at the fall. 

Kenma thanked his viewers for the support and ended the stream.

You two spent the rest of the evening celebrating and looking at wedding inspo on Pinterest.

_________________________________________

If you couldn't already tell I lost motivation at the end 🙃  

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

Hii dillo! I was wondering if you've talked about the gang and their opinions getting married and whatnot, and if you haven't, could you? Thanks a bunch 🫶

A/N: I don't think I've ever done anything like this, so I hope you enjoy it! They're a little repetitive maybe, but I tried my hardest :)

DARRY CURTIS

I think Dare’s pretty open to the idea of marriage! Especially if he were to find the right person, he’d definitely consider getting down on one knee and popping the question

He’d be hesitant, at least a little bit, no matter how perfect or awesome he thinks you are because he knows his life is a little complicated and he’s not too sure if he really wants to drag someone into that

Like it’s one thing to be dating somebody and have the wild lifestyle Darry has, working multiple jobs to take care of his brothers and looking out for the rest of the boys in the gang, but it’s a whole other thing to actually be married into that

When he does propose though, I’d bet a lot of money that he would use his mama’s old ring cause ya know, it’s got that big sentimental value to him

I don’t think he’d have a big flashy proposal or even a big flashy wedding, just something sort of subdued and private so it’s a big moment for the two of you mostly, not a moment for everyone else-

His best man would probably be Sodapop, I’m thinking probably, I just love the idea of the two of them standing next to each other at the end of the aisle  

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop is incredibly pro-wedding, and I mean incredibly pro-wedding, he wants absolutely nothing more than to have a nice wedding and settle down with the one he loves

I’m talking like- y’all could be dating for two weeks at most and you just do something small and sweet like bring him lunch at work and this boy’s hearing wedding bells and making plans

He just really loves you ya know? He loves hard and he falls fast and from the moment he sees you for the first time, he can picture his whole life with you, I’m not even joking

If y’all remember Sandy, if you care about Sandy at all or don’t remember her, I don’t really know, but I think she’d have a big impact on how he looks at marriage, especially if you’re the first person he’s going with after her

Like he’d be absolutely head over heels for you, but he’d hold back a little more in the relationship because he doesn’t wanna be hurt like that again

The hesitation wouldn’t last long, because he’s Sodapop and he’s like that, but if something went wrong, he’d remember the Sandy drama and be a little concerned about your future 

PONYBOY CURTIS

Imma start off by saying that Ponyboy is honestly a little too young to be spending his time concerned about marriage and honestly probably doesn’t spend much time planning a future wedding

This boy has his head in the clouds most of the time or his nose tucked in a book so I doubt marriage his high on his priority list, but I think he’d want to get married eventually

Similar to Sodapop, Ponyboy’s quick to fall for someone, which is something he’s not proud of, but like- he can develop a crush in about two seconds flat and be hopelessly pining over you within an hour of seeing you for the first time

But, he’s not gonna start wedding planning until a long while, he’s less concerned with figuring out what kind of wedding you’re going to have and more concerned on trying to get you to go out to the movies with him on Friday night

And even though it’s a long way away, Ponyboy knows he’s not going to have a big deal wedding, it’s probably just going to be a small affair either in his hometown or yours

His side of the room is probably gonna be filled with greasers and a few school friends he’s made over the years, but ya know, either way, it’s gonna be a really sweet wedding and he’s gonna make it all soft and sweet <3 

DALLAS WINSTON

To those of you who are fans of Dally…well, I apologize, cause bein’ honest with y’all, marriage isn’t a high priority on this boy’s list-

You could be dating for a million years, living in the same place, falling asleep and waking up next to each other every day, and getting married wouldn’t probably ever cross his mind unless you said something about it

Dal’s not anti-marriage per se, he just doesn’t see the need for it, especially if things are going just fine between the two of you, ya know? Why risk what you’ve got for something you don’t really need?

Most of his hesitations come from a minor fear of commitment and also just a general lack of care for doing things the traditional way, but the commitment problems do play a part in that, he’s afraid of tying himself down and dragging you down with him

If you did get married? It’d be down at the courthouse with the boys watching over you, teasing you both mercilessly the whole time

Also! When he gets hauled in and you show up to bail him out, he will refer to you as if you were married because sometimes he likes to be an asshole and mess with the officers who’ve tossed him in jail

JOHNNY CADE

Getting married? With you? Yeah, he’d consider going out and getting married and stuff, but it’d take him a very, very, very long time to work up to it, not dragging his feet, just trying to figure out if it’s worth it 

Not ‘cause of you, just ‘cause he’s seen what can happen in marriages, look at literally everyone’s parents, and he’s worried about that becoming the two of you guys, he loves you too much for that to happen, ya know?

Also because he’s like- way nervous- the boys have to constantly tell him that they’re pretty confident you’re gonna say yes when Johnny pops the question (sometime in the far future folks, he’s just a child)

Ironically, it’ll probably be Dally that final gets through to him, Mr. Almost-Anti-Wedding himself, mostly because he’s tired of Johnny stressing himself over a proposal you’re probably definitely going to say yes to

So eventually, he might ask you, but it’s gonna be a real private proposal, just the two of you. And the wedding wouldn’t be anything fancy either, probably down to the courthouse with the rest of the folks and then going out to celebrate afterward at the Curtis household

He’d be a good husband, I think, because after all, what is the position of a husband but that of a glorified boyfriend?? Johnny is a great boyfriend! He’d be a good husband!

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Despite the hot mess of his parent’s marriage, Two-Bit does wanna get married and I think he’d start thinking about marrying you from the get-go, I’m talking as soon as he laid eyes on you, he knew you two were gonna get hitched-

Does he have any sort of solid plan? Absolutely not. He just knows he’s head over heels for you and is willing to get married whenever you want to say yes to him

Like he’s regularly gonna ask you to marry him but it’s more in that way of, you did something nice and he looks at you with heart eyes and asks you to marry him

Two’d really love a white picket fence life I think, or at least, he’d think about settling down with you one day, coming home to you every night, waking up in the same bed as you every morning, maybe raising a few kids, having a dog or two-

He’s not in a real rush to get married though, as enthusiastic as he is about it, he’s willing to wait until whenever you wanna go and get married, though he might hit you with a promise ring at some point in the game

The wedding wouldn’t be anything too fancy, just your people and his people, all gathered together to become one big family, he’d probably have one of the boys as his best man and his little sister would definitely be your flower girl if she was young enough still when y’all got married 

STEVE RANDLE

Similar to Two-Bit, he doesn’t have great experience with marriage, Steve’s parent’s relationship is kind of rocky to say in the least and he doesn’t have a great foundation to base it on, but he’d love to get married

His biggest fear about being married to be honest, is turning into his father, but he knows, deep down that he’s not ever gonna end up like that guy 

The only thing stopping him from getting married is finding someone to get hitched to, ya know? But along came you and…well we all know you guys are gonna be endgame

Steve and Sodapop, out of all the boys, are definitely the most likely to be the youngest to get married, if they’ve found someone to marry, neither of them see any reason to delay it any longer?

I’m getting this mental image of you swinging by the DX to drop off lunch for Steve or something, maybe you just came by to say hi, and some guy had been eyeing you, asking Steve who you are, and Steve’s like “My future spouse, actually”

You’d have a nice little wedding, maybe just a courthouse affair, but it’d be real sweet and he’d clean up just for you, no grease or motor oil in sight, his hair combed back all swirly and stuff, he just looks real good

TIM SHEPARD

Now I’ve got tons of opinions about a married Tim Shepard, mostly because I’ve talked about a married Tim Shepard at length with a very dear friend of mine (hello to Sophie, one of my bestest buds)

But anyway, Tim would totally get married, just as long as he found someone worth getting married to, but it’d take him a while until he finally asks, he takes his time, takes it slow, and doesn’t really rush into it

Most of his hesitation is just his assumption that maybe you don’t wanna get married, or maybe you weren’t gonna stick around forever, and he’s real worried about pulling you into his world, worried that you’re not gonna like staying

Especially cause like- he knows he’s got it rough, he lives on the rougher side of town, runs a gang for crying out loud, he knows he can’t always give you everything that you might want, but he’d sure try, and he’d do whatever he could to make you happy

When you guys get hitched, Curly would be his best man, no doubt in my mind, and he’d have Angela on his side too if she isn’t already standing on your side of the ceremony

He doesn’t really want a big fancy ceremony or anything? Whatever you want is more than fine to him, he just wants to marry you, he doesn’t care how it happens as long as you’re happy with it 

CURLY SHEPARD

Curly’s one of the ones who everyone thought was never gonna get married and settle down with somebody, but from the second he started bringing you around, everyone knew it’d only be a matter of time before you two got married

He wasn’t too sure about getting married at first? Didn’t have any sort of attachment to the idea or plans for getting married, but he changed those plans when you two got together

Curl’s absolutely obsessed with you from the get-go and the first time Tim meets you, he knows that there’s going to be a wedding at some point for the two of you, everyone sees it coming

Again, his parent’s marriage kinda sucked, but Curly’s one for taking stuff his own way and he was determined not to screw up your marriage either, even though he knows not everything is going to be perfect

When you get married, it’s definitely not going to be anything big or fancy or anything, but it’s going to feel like a real special day because it is a real special day and I’m gonna be honest with you, you’re going have a great time with everyone there

Curly sees you for the first time and he cries, not full-out crying but his eyes tear up quite a bit and Tim teases him about it for the rest of his life because who knew such tough hoods were really softies?

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your Soul's Signature Scent

✧ “Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words, appearances, emotions, or will. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off, it enters into us like breath into our lungs, it fills us up, imbues us totally. There is no remedy for it.” - Patrick Süskind

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you. Also, I'm a rambler and I love going off track. One pile got a mini wattpad story. CHEERS!

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✴︎ Pile One ✴︎ (King of Pentacles, 3oP, Knight of Swords, 9oS, 1, Ascension, Worthy,)

Not to be weird but I’d sniff you like rich frat boy coke.

It's hard to describe scents so… walk with me.

You have had a long, stressful day and the world is pissing you off. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place so after work, you open Google Maps in hopes of temporary solace with cheap liquor and bar food. You find one of those dingy sports bars with shitty beer, sticky tables, and drunk grown men yelling at a tiny wall-mounted television.

Not exactly your cup of tea, but as the French say… C’est la vie!

You practically had to beat half of the bar off with a stick, just to find a seat. Drunk old guys + A Pretty Pile One = Sloppy, slurred marriage proposals(?) You couldn’t tell, but “I wanna bring you home to my mama” sounds close enough.

You pay them no mind. You have one goal. Get fucked up. Don’t throw up.

Okay, maybe two goals.

You finally find a stool and raise a finger to signal the bartender.  

“Hey, bartender! BAR-”

“I see you. Don’t call to me.” 

A nervous drop in your stomach almost tips you off your stool. You feel them before you see them. Every bottle clink they make reverberates to that pit in your stomach. You only hear the bartender’s movements among a crowd of bustling people: their shoes stick and unstick to the floor, their fake chuckles at guests’ jokes, every time their hand slides across the bar to collect bills.

Maybe it’s delusion but you’re convinced you hear the steady drum of their heartbeat. 

You finally get a good look at the bartender. In a sea of hostile people drowning themselves to forget their sorrows, you see the calmest, most fearless person in the room. Squared shoulders, back straight, head held high, and the smoothest walk you’ve ever seen; they almost glide.

You watch in complete admiration as they de-escalate a fight, sanitize bar taps, count money, and make a drink all in one go. You haven’t spoken more than two full words to this person but something about their presence makes you want to kneel.

The bartender finally makes their way to you and their eyes lock with yours. Your neck begins to sweat so you quickly dart your head away. A deep, velvety chuckle comes from the pits of their stomach, “Don’t show me you're nervous, I usually charge the Bambis more.”

“Bambis?”

“You’re shivering like a scared little deer, aren't you?”

You have no words so you focus on twisting your hands under the tables. 

They find you cute. With another chuckle they lean in closer to you, “I’ll tell you what, how about I make you a drink to calm you a little, yeah?”

“Uhm, I’ll take a-” Before you could even tell them what you want, their back is to you making a concoction.

Forty-five seconds later, a glass of honey bourbon with an orange slice and a vanilla bean stick slides in your direction. Along with a… cigar?

“I doubt you can handle this, but I want to see you sweat.”

Hands shaky, you press the glass to your lips as the bartender guides you, “Take it slow. Let it sit. Savor it.”

You came in here looking for cheap booze and a deep sense of impending regret, but here you are drinking $400 bourbon you can’t afford and hanging off of every syllable this person says to you.

After a slow sip and a burn behind the ears, you ask, “How do you do that?”

They raise their brow.

“Ya know… command like that.”

They whip a towel over their shoulder, “Once you realize how scared and hurt everyone actually is, worthiness feels less unattainable.”

BAHAHAHA THAT ENDING WAS SO CORNY (and kinda ominous??) BUT THIS IS GETTING LONG AND THIS AINT WATTPAD.

In summary, your soul has a very effortlessly commanding signature. Even if you aren’t aware, your energy dominates every space it enters. You might have people who seem to dislike you for no reason, this is why. BUT YES, a sweet bourbon with a hint of citrus and something smoked on the side is 100% your signature. Also… Petrichor. Your soul scent is the sweetened waft of smoked wood beneath grit and the smell of wet Earth after a storm. 

"Can You Taste The Spice On My Lips?"

✴︎ Pile Two ✴︎ (9oP, 10oP, King of Wands, Lust)

✴︎ BAEEEE, don’t fucking play with me. Your soul just told me to take my shoes off in your million-dollar mansion. You told me to stop acting like a fucking hooligan???

There is a richness to you down to your very core. I’m getting Pushya, the most auspicious nakshatra representing wealth, prosperity, and milk (divine nourishment). But there is also a spiciness here.

SPICED CHAI MILK TEA. That is the scent that jumps out to me. The hominess of full-bodied, sweet cinnamon. The spicy warmth of red chai. Maybe even a little nutty, Spanish almond if you’re feeling crazy.

There is also a gradual build-up here. All earth signs, but primarily Taurus. There is this steady, sensual accumulation of your energy. You cannot be rushed, you savor moments and allow yourself to rest in all the sensations you experience in the present. If you don’t do this, your soul is calling you to do this. Slow down. Chew slower, shower longer, and take time out of your morning to listen to the birds sing. 

The leisurely flow of the universe is inviting you to join its dance. You are safe. You are provided for. The universe is your sugar daddy. Your guides want you to know that what you want, wants you; you just need to slow down.

I sense that your energy is aphrodisiacal. Your sacral chakra is one of your dominant chakras (could be healthy or a leak but it is prominent) and when people enter your presence their chakra gets activated too. People get creative and fiery near you. If their sacral chakra is blocked, this may be repressed and they can hold resentment for the free-flowing energy you have which they feel they lack. 

Abundance. Abundance. Abundance. Abundance. That word is used a lot in this community and you may be tired of hearing it but that's too damn bad! You’re very fucking abundant.

If this puzzles you because you look around and don't see whatever you picture as abundance, it's because it's sitting within you waiting for you to actualize it. You have the skills, the intellect, and everything else under the sun needed to grab your dreams by the balls. I cannot stress this enough.

Go outside, journal, continue your affirmations, and remove yourself from anything lying to you and saying you cannot do this. It is a fucking lie. You have everything it takes to do what the world says is impossible. Shut the world’s opinion out and turn inwardly for your answers, because you have them.  

Ambrosia. Liquid gold. It flows through you. You are the gift. The universe’s greatest gift to you is you. You have the ability to spin anything into gold. 

I have some doomscrollers, spirallers, and people-pleasers in this pile. You may struggle with excess anxiety, digestive issues, acid reflux, and ulcers. Outside influences have tricked you into believing you are a pebble when you’re actually a diamond. 

Baby, you have to cut them off. By “them” I mean all negative energies that cause your mind to get stuck in a loop of self-hate. That includes social media, bad habits, fake relationships. Your solitude will heal you. Your peace of mind will heal you. Once you shut up the naysayers, you’ll finally hear the music that has been drowned out in your body and soul.

I know this is a lot but it is worth the effort. Your potential is worth the effort. A healthy state of mind is worth the effort. You are worth the effort. 

Sidenote: The star and temperance came out while I was cleaning up. BABY YOU A STAR IN THE MF MAKING!

"The great merit of gold is precisely that it is scarce”

✴︎ Pile Three ✴︎ (The World, 6oW, 2oW)

🎵Nowadays, I be duckin' them cameras

And they hype that I'm up on them banners

Callin' my phone, but they know I don't answer (why?)

In the hood, I'm like Princess Diana (grrah) 🎵

✴︎ THE PEOPLE 'S PRINCESS (or prince… orrrr the #1 baddest barnacle in the seven seas, whatever fits).

3, “The creative child” and 6, “The Caretaker” came out. 3 is the number of self-expression and creativity. 6 is the most harmonious number centered around nurturing your community. In the world, you’re the center of attention. In the 6 of Wands, you’re the one decked out in Dolce and Gabanna, playing Robin Hood and giving to the people. In the 2 of wands, you quite literally have the world in your palm.

Your soul’s footprint is destined to be seen and recognized. Baby, you are meant to be loved by the world at large. 

Maybe you have aspirations of becoming an artist, actress, or influencer. If you have dreams of being in the public eye, I am telling you your desires are not coincidental. You are meant for these dreams so do not be afraid to actualize them. The stars are expecting you, your home is in the spotlight.

Everyone incarnates on Earth with a role and purpose, you are meant to have a large platform because what you have to say matters and will elevate our collective consciousness. You have the gift of being able to garner great attention. People like to see you, talk to you, see what you’re wearing, know about your life, and everything else in between. People are like moths to a flame with you, you’re an entertainer to your very core.

You have a youthful, creative, and colorful soul. 

I am getting strong floral scents mixed with a crisp, clean linen smell. Gardenia, Ylnag Ylnag, Cherry Blossom, and Honey Suckle. I just know the bees be tearing your nectary ass up.

You know how Ariana Grande’s perfume line is always sold out? It’s kind of like that. “Oh, Pile Three is wearing this perfume? PUT IT IN THE CART. NEOW.”

Strong Venusian energy. Libra, Taurus, Pisces, 2nd house (especially for my singers), 7th house, Bharani, Purva Phalguni and Purvashada.

People find you very attractive. Yes, physically so, but the true embodiment of beauty stems from the soul. And you are utterly gorgeous. I am getting snow white; the animals flock to her, the sky clears for her, the seas part for her, and the forest protects her.

I am not trying to be redundant but this Earth does not play about you😭. That doesn’t mean you haven’t experienced hardship but trust, you will get the love you crave, tenfold. 

I get the sense that love has felt very conditional in your life and once the metaphorical “love pie” was cut and served, you were served last and there was never enough for you.

I am going to hold your hand as I say this,

Feel this pain. Process this pain fully. Cry all your tears, scream your sorrows out in the open, and let the winds carry it away. Let these feelings of being unloved leave your body because there is no space for them anymore. Eternal love is flowing in to fill those empty cavities. You are so loved. I am so sorry the environment around you has blocked this energy but please know that justice will be served and the love you are karmically owed is growing within you and you will be seen in this lifetime.

COME BACK TO THIS WHEN YOU’RE FAMOUS AND DON’T FORGET ME.

You better not go Hollywood on me 🫵

The Cosmos' Countess

✴︎ Pile Four ✴︎ (The Hanged Man, Knight of Wands, 5 of Swords)

✴︎ Random, but have you heard stories of those cool warrior monks? Who devotes themselves to their practice but when it’s time for battle they whoop ass?? That’s so you, boo.

You’re all peace, love, and light but you don’t fucking play about protecting your peace of mind. I sense that you live an alternative lifestyle. With the hanged man, you see life differently from the average person, and don’t waste your time with the world’s bullshit. 

You’re not on Twitter arguing about Drake’s tummy tuck (BAHAHA I HAD TO), you know shit like this doesn’t add to your life in any way. You focus your energy on activities and discussions that add to your self-evolution. You have made lots of sacrifices in life to progress forward and the universe sees your hard work and is proud of you. Hell, even I’m proud of you. 

You and the Universe like this 🤞. Here’s an affirmation that already rings true but is good to practice anyway, “I surrender to the natural flow of all existence.”

A lot of you study esoteric divinity practices. Tarot, scrying, rune-casting, psychometry, etc. We also have some healers. This may ruffle some feathers. Maybe your family or friend circle doesn’t understand your interests and may push against it but quite frankly… you don’t give a fuck. 

As you shouldn’t.

Your self-resolutions are impressive. You may feel nervous at times but your faith in yourself makes you fearless. You’ve done your studying. You’ve done your healing. You're ready to take the world by storm, and nothing is knocking you off your horse. You are the first to ride into battle and will be the last standing. I don’t know if you’re aware but you thrive in conflict, your soul spirit is akin to Martian energy and loves a good fight, to be honest. 

Your power is in your belief that everything will work out in your favor. “I have the power of God and anime on my side.” 

If you’re not quite at this level yet and you don’t see yourself as this peaceful warrior, you got the “soothe”, “present”, and “friendship” cards. It’s your nerves, baby. It has nothing to do with you as a person. You are smart enough. You are capable. You have everything you need to ride into this new life. 

The entire collective is being asked to slow down. The hustle in society right now does not allow our nervous systems to regulate themselves so everyone is miserable and drained. Remove yourself from this hustle and ground yourself in the present. You have to soothe yourself and lower your cortisol levels. Baby yourself, you deserve it.

Look up techniques to regulate your parasympathetic nervous on YouTube.

Anyway, your soul caught me off guard, you're that sexy mf fr. Ummm back to scent..

YES, okay so please don’t take this the wrong way because I am obsessed with what I'm getting. Hear me out, I used to take kickboxing classes for a few years and that particular gym’s scent was my favorite fucking scent. 

It sounds weird but it smelled like pent-up stress relief: sweat, blood, and Clorox. 

Of course, I’m not saying you smell like this, but this is how I perceive the scent your soul carries.

Your soul’s scent is victory. Particularly, through a bloody means. Your soul understands the purification in blood. Extremely Martian. You’re chill but you’re really fucking intense dude. I like you.

Oooo and also, hang out with friends!! Genuine contact can help relax your body.

Mmmkaye bye!

The Blood You Spill Is The Blood of Kings

[heechwe]

canine intuition | 𝐬𝐣𝐲

୨୧ pairing: sim (jake) jaeyun x fem!reader ୨୧ word count: 1.4k ୨୧ genre: fluff, hints of comedy ୨୧ tags: established relationship, marriage!au, expecting!reader, layla's basically the smartest girl in the room ୨୧ synopsis: Sometimes your dog knows what's going on before you do. And shenanigans ensue when she uses her knowledge to protect you, whether you want her to or not. ➸ For the birthday boy and his beautiful fur baby ♡

“Layla, you’re not coming back inside until you use the bathroom, missy,” you warn the pup. With her head angled to the side, staring up at you in confusion, she must be wondering why you’re refusing to let her back into the house. And you typically would cave if it weren’t for the fact it wasn’t so early in the morning.

When you began dating Jake, you wondered if and how Layla would warm up to you. It scared you more than meeting his parents, if you were being honest. Canines, like their feline counterparts, had a supernatural intuition about people. If she didn’t like you, what did that say about where your relationship would end up in a few months?

Luckily, you both got on perfectly. The two of you were practically thick as thieves by the time Jake proposed and eventually added the wedding band to your finger.

Now, with a beautiful house and adjoining backyard, walks with Layla have become a less-frequent occurrence. She gets more than enough exercise in her new, grassy oasis. It’s only when she needs to go out and come in that either you or Jake have to get up and tend to her physically.

Today, though, she has yet to use the bathroom. Jake had to head out early for a meeting with his business partners and left you to take over the household duties.

Despite your orders, she doesn’t seem to budge on her stance to come back inside. Her persistence mirrors her father’s to the letter, making you smile.

“Layla, once you use the bathroom then I’ll—“ You feel a sudden rush of bile hit the back of your throat, causing you to press your hand to your mouth. Was it the coffee you just drank, or the quick breakfast burrito you scarfed down before letting Layla out?

“I might have to—“ The next second, you’re running to the bathroom at lightning speed. Your knees slam against the tile floor as you bury your head inside the toilet, the contents of your stomach emptied out in a second. Layla scratches on the back door with rapid paws. You can hear a whine behind the screen as you wipe your face with a piece of toilet paper.

Layla runs through the door once you’ve cleaned yourself up, and she jumps up to check on you in an instant. Her paws press lightly on your stomach, her head tilted again at that signature angle when she’s concerned.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’m alright.” You scratch her behind the ears, hoping to appease her anxiety. There are lingering traces of queasiness, but you decide to rest on the couch for a while in hopes of making it go away. Layla doesn’t leave your side for the rest of the morning, forgoing her breakfast to keep her head nestled warmly in your lap.

Layla’s odd behavior continues into the next day.

It’s a modern marvel for Jake to leave work early. Client meetings run long enough as it is, so getting alone time with him at this point in his career is a gift you contable treasure.

You’re cooking a quick lunch for the two of you when Jake wraps his arms around you. Your husband presses sloppy kisses into your neck, his hands exploring your body as he holds you snug against him.

“Honey,” you chide him, trying to mix the macaroni in the pot without letting any stick to the bottom. It will be a bitch to clean—and much less scrape out—if you don’t keep a close eye on it. He knows this, but he clearly has other plans on his mind.

“We can eat later. Right now, I’d rather have dessert,” Jake whispers into the crook of your neck. He reaches around you to turn the stove off, his mind made up.

When you turn around to face him, you’re met with his signature grin, the cheshire cat smile that made you fall in love with him without much effort plastered across his face.

“Maybe I wanted to eat mac and cheese, how about that?” You counter as you run your fingers under his shirt. His skin is warm to the touch, the ripples of his muscles igniting a fire deep in your stomach.

“I think I can change your mind,” he teases.

When he grazes his lips against yours, pressing you harder against him, that’s when Layla loses it.

She begins barking loudly at her father, making him immediately take his hands from your body to lean down to her level. She stands in between you two with fierce attention, the fur on her back brushing your legs.

“What’s wrong, girly girl?” He asks, all sensuality gone from his expression. His concern for her welfare and yours was one of the many reasons you loved him, his affection and loving words for “his favorite girls” always squeezing your heart in a vice grip.

Layla nuzzles her snout against Jake’s palm, but she makes no move to stray from her spot against you. You cross your arms, frowning. “Layla, what’s up with you lately? Mommy’s fine,” you assure her.

“Maybe she wants to go for a W-A-L-K.” Jake spells out the words, wiggling his eyebrows and walking in the direction of the hooks that hold his coats and her leash. “Is that what you want, baby? You want to go for a walk?”

Layla’s ears perk up instantly, her tail wagging in all directions before Jake puts her in her harness. The moment forgotten as the two of them head out the door, you wonder what’s up with her and how to help her feel better moving forward.

The next week, you feel worse for wear. You think back to that day in the kitchen, realizing how oblivious you were to the way your body would turn against you. The nausea was something you could handle. But now, your body is all kinds of sore, mostly in your chest and pelvic region.

You would pass it off as normal premenstrual symptoms, but the pain is foreign on some level you can’t explain. If only you could put a proper name to it, maybe it wouldn’t nag you so much.

Layla whimpers the entire day, snuggled into your side as though she believes her body can provide some relief for your aching one.

By the afternoon, you call Jake to take your mind off of the overbearing discomfort. He begins to talk about the newest project at the firm and his role in landing the contract, but once he hears Layla’s array of cries, he changes his focus.

“Is something going on?” You hear the concern in your husband’s voice immediately, and your heart clenches at his tone.

“No, no, baby, I’m fine. She probably just needs to pee.” At the worst time possible, a cramp makes you gasp in pain.

“I’m coming home,” Jake says with finality, no room for any further discussion.

By the time he makes it home, he brings a large bowl of chicken noodle soup and a brand new heating pad to your bedside.

He runs his hands through your hair as you cry, reminding you to eat as much of the soup as you can stomach.

“Next time, please don’t make Layla the messenger,” Jake jokes, kissing the crown of your head. The girl in question sits nestled against yours and Jake’s feet, satisfied she’s done her job to make sure you got the help you needed.

The sun peers into the bathroom and shines down on the two pink lines staring back at you. The truth of what’s been in development for the past few weeks hits you with full force. Any normal woman would be hyper emotional at the news or terrified at her life changing as she knows it. For you, all you can do is stare down at your dog and laugh.

“You knew this entire time, didn’t you?” You ask Layla although she can’t reply, tears of joy and humor running down your cheeks. She just looks up at you with the same cocked head and wagging tail.

You turn back to the three pregnancy tests that rest on top of the marble counter, all of them confirming what the pup knew to be true many days ago.

Call it canine intuition, feminine senses, or a little bit of both. It’s anyone’s guess.

What isn’t up for debate is whether or not you’ll tell the man you love the news when he gets home.

When he does, he carries a bouquet of flowers in his hands. “Saw these on my way home and thought of you,” he says, beaming.

You grin and press your mouth to his softly. “I actually have something for you too.”

You guide him into the bathroom, his eyes immediately locking onto the tests near the sink. In classic Jake Sim fashion, his eyes go wide and his billion-megawatt grin appears on his lips. “Are you serious?”

You nod your head, the waterworks from earlier coming back.

He encases you in a tight hug, his body shaking with his own barrage of emotions. His voice is trembling when he says, “I’m gonna be a dad.”

He kisses every free space of your face, landing finally on your lips in a tear-stained but beautiful kiss. “How long have you known?”

“Just for a few hours.” You see Layla in the doorway, your pup smiling at the two of you. “But someone actually knew a long time ago.”

@yvnempire @sjylouvre @mini-mews @jayparked @heesuncore @yoursjaeyun @sungbeams @jenoslutie @loserlvrss @pars-ley @lovetaroandtaemin @wonwovy

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 ౨ৎ˚₊

@kvanity-main @sweetvenomnet @onedoornet @sayxonet @violetanet @svthub @whipped-kpop-creators

[caitified]

do you think you could write a caitlin x reader proposal or marriage fic? desperately need wifey caitlin vibes

thanks <3

for life

caitlin clark x reader

warnings:none

the hawaiian breeze brushes against your skin, carrying with it the gentle scent of salt and tropical flowers. the two of you are wandering along the secluded beach, hand in hand, with only the sound of waves and the occasional chirp of birds filling the quiet evening. caitlin has been especially relaxed this trip, more than you’ve seen her in years. moving to indianapolis together brought its share of changes, and between her demanding wnba schedule and the fast pace of city life, it’s rare to have moments like these — where it’s just the two of you, in paradise, without a single thing to worry about.

you watch her as she walks beside you, her face soft in the glow of the setting sun, and can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are. she catches you looking and grins, that playful smile you fell in love with years ago. there’s a hint of nervousness behind it, though, something you can’t quite place.

“what?” she asks, bumping her shoulder against yours.

“just… you’re beautiful.”

she rolls her eyes, but her cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink. “you’re not so bad yourself,” she murmurs, her fingers intertwining more tightly with yours as you stroll closer to the water.

for a while, the two of you walk in comfortable silence, the sun dipping lower and casting a stunning pink-orange glow across the horizon. just as the last sliver of sun begins to disappear, caitlin gently tugs your hand, bringing you to a stop. she turns to face you, her expression now serious, eyes reflecting a mix of excitement and vulnerability that you’ve rarely seen.

“can i be sappy for a second?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

you nod, sensing that something monumental is about to happen.

she takes a deep breath, her thumb tracing gentle circles over the back of your hand. “being with you… it’s changed everything for me. you make me feel grounded, even when everything around me feels like it’s spinning out of control. i don’t know how i got so lucky, but i want to spend every day showing you how much you mean to me.”

your heart flutters, and before you can respond, caitlin’s hand slips from yours. she reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small, dark box, and lowers herself onto one knee. the realization hits you like a wave, your breath catching in your throat as the world seems to still around you.

“will you marry me?” she asks, her voice breaking slightly with emotion. “i want us to keep building this life together, to go through every high and low — all of it, as long as it’s with you.”

tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and for a moment, you’re too overwhelmed to speak. her gaze holds yours, hopeful and filled with that same intensity she shows on the court, only this time it’s all for you. you take a shaky breath, trying to steady yourself.

“yes,” you manage, voice choked with emotion. “yes, caitlin, of course i’ll marry you.”

her face breaks into a grin, pure joy radiating from her as she slides the ring onto your finger. the band is simple and elegant, a perfect fit. caitlin stands, pulling you into her arms as she kisses you, slow and tender, as if savoring every second. the world fades away, leaving only the warmth of her embrace and the sound of the ocean as the stars begin to dot the darkening sky.

when you finally pull back, she rests her forehead against yours, a soft laugh escaping her lips. “i was so nervous, i thought i’d mess it up,” she admits.

“you? mess up?” you tease, a grin spreading across your face. “i don’t think that’s possible.”

she chuckles, taking your hand and lacing her fingers with yours as the two of you begin to walk again. the beach feels even more magical now, with the promise of a future as breathtaking as the paradise around you. you both talk late into the night, dreaming about wedding plans, life together, and all the adventures that lie ahead.

under the hawaiian stars, caitlin wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close as she whispers, “i can’t wait to spend forever with you.”

[nicromancytarot]

HOW DO THEY FEEL ABOUT YOU

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD

So many of us are stuck in those pesky little situationships and confusing connections right now, so I asked my spirit guides how your person feels about you, pick a pile and find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

Pile 4 ———> Pile 5 ———> Pile 6

Pile 7 ———> Pile 8 ———> Pile 9

PILE 1

They want to come towards you, I definitely see that they have intentions to make a move, perhaps speak to you or just be around you. I do see that they may think that you have someone else, or possibly multiple other options that they have to compete against, and this is making them slightly nervous to make their next move. For now, it seems like the connection will be delayed, possibly make it clear that you like them, just to see how they react, but I wouldn’t recommend jumping in with two feet, one in and one out is the way to go.

PILE 2

Some of you guys might already be in a relationship, or the connection is beginning to get quite serious, my heart is racing while writing this lmao, so one or both of you might be very nervous about the fast progression of this relationship. I do see that they have intentions to make this ever lasting, however the way they show it isn’t the best, it’s like one second they’re all in, and the next they’re out. This can become very confusing and frustrating, so I’d definitely recommend keeping an eye out, you do not need to be fully committed to them right now if you’re not officially dating.

PILE 3

There’s a theme of them working hard on the connection, they are struggling to build something so they can be the best for you, I see that they may be currently in a mode where they are not paying as much attention to you, you could currently feel neglected and alone, fear not, this will ease up. For a select few of you, this will be talking about marriage, your partner may be getting prepared to propose to you right now, and they might be a little mysterious and secretive. For the rest of you though, this person is getting ready to take your connection to the next level, however they have some things to work on before.

PILE 4

I feel like you know how they feel about you, pile 4. There seems to be a theme of you being aware yet unaware, like it’s more of an intuitional knowing, rather than a knowledge that you have. The connection itself doesn’t seem the most stable, I can certainly see that you guys may have met through some type of affair, infidelity or something to do with them biting the temptation in order to have you. This person could be someone you were told to stay away from, or perhaps the other way around. They notice that they are not the best for you, but they look at you and are like “wow, I just can’t help it” they NEED to have you.

PILE 5

You guys have such a lovely energy for this reading, they certainly feel like you are the person for them, possibly even believing that you are their soulmate. I feel like they have some intentions to make a decision to ask you to be their official partner, or take an already committed relationship to the next level. You have both of the relationship cards so I would definitely say there’s some type of serious commitment either coming in, or continuing to build, their intentions are most likely to have you as their “one” forever.

PILE 6

Possibility of them or yourself manifesting each other, it doesn’t seem intentional, however it’s certainly working lmao. At this current moment, I think it’s more of a friendship than anything else, I think the two of you are just testing the waters at the moment, not making anything too serious out of it. I would say that they want you to possibly pull back slightly, they enjoy seeming better than you?? So when it comes to it, they give, you take; they don’t like it to be the other way around.

PILE 7

This person has definitely left an ex, or has taken the steps to get over an ex. The last relationship seemed to play a lot in their life, this ex partner could honestly represent you. However, either way they are definitely getting over whoever this ex is, and they are looking and focusing more so towards the future, whether this be with you, or just themself. If you are the ex, I believe they are no longer thinking much of you or your past relationship (sorry). If you are not the ex, then they are definitely beginning to set things up so they can make their way to you.

PILE 8

This person loves leadership, they absolutely love being in charge and knowing what they are doing, they may feel slightly possessive of you. If you guys make an official relationship out of this, or you meet the family sometime soon, I believe this is mostly fuelled by jealousy, you could’ve said something or done something that made them realise how serious they are about you, and how much they would hate if anyone else had you.

PILE 9

Very confusing energy for you, pile 9. It seems that they are focusing on themself a lot, I think whatever you guys have is mainly focused on having some fun and leaping into that spontaneity. They may have a few people on the roster, however whatever they are waiting for, just hasn’t quite come to them yet. I do see that they feel abundantly about you, however I’m not sure if you’re the person that they fully, fully want. This could be a third party situation.

[jeridandridge]

stelle splendenti (shining stars)

Not edited, it’s been a minute.

On Friday night after school Melissa and Jacob find themselves at a shared favorite restaurant sipping drinks and chatting like they do in their new found friendship.

“And then,” Jacob laughs, “then I did my walk of shame practically blind and almost tripped in the crosswalk on 5th.”

Jacob and Melissa howl with laughter in their booth, the redhead wiping her eyes. “Oh god, kid. I’m impressed.”

“Jacob what are you doing here?”

Looking up Melissa’s breath hitches when she sees the gorgeous woman next to their booth. “Stelle splendenti.” She whispers smiling at the stranger.

“Y/n!” Jacob stands up pulling the woman into a hug. “Melissa, this is my friend, I was just telling her about you recently.”

“You’re a friend of Jacob’s?” The redhead smiles gesturing for the stranger to sit.

“Yeah, this guy crashed on my couch for a few months and we’ve been friends ever since.” The woman smiles. “If I weren’t living in a shoe box it’d probably be the same set up now.” She chuckles.

“Ah it’s alright, Mel Mel and I are good friends now.”

Melissa nods trying not to stare at the woman, completely mesmerized by her eyes. She doesn’t know it, but Jacob catches on right away.

“Ya know, y/n, Melissa has a ticket guy for sports. I know you like the flyers, maybe we can all go to a match sometime.”

“Game,” Malissa and the woman correct him at the same time. “You like the flyers, hon?”

“I do,” she nods with a chuckle. “I’ve always loved hockey, football is a close second though.”

Now Melissa is very intrigued.

“Pretty and a sports fan? Jacob where have you been keeping this one?”

The conversation goes on, and it turns out this woman is a breath of fresh air.

“No it’s from the 40s originally, way before all of us.” She laughs, her eyes crinkling.

“What can I say, hon you’ve got good taste.”

She smiles at the redhead with a shrug. “I usually do.”

Hours later, Melissa is dead tired but cant force herself to move from the booth. Getting to know Jacob has been a delightful surprise and now she was surprised that she found herself liking one of his friends.

“I have to get going but it was so nice meeting you, Melissa. Jacob give her my number and I’ll send you the links to that band.” She smiles hugging Jacob before putting her jacket on and walking out. Jade eyes follow her slim frame all the way down the aisle of booths.

Melissa Schemmenti is screwed big time.

After a weekend of constantly thinking of the cute woman and giggling at her phone like a school girl, Melissa sits with Jacob in the teachers lounge staring at her phone screen.

“Just ask her to hang out,” Jacob shrugs with a smile. “She’s a really great person.”

“Kid,” she sighs leaning back in her chair. “Look, you’d make a great wingman but that’s just not in the cards for me okay?”

“How do you know that?” He asks in a way only Jacob can. “You don’t know how it’ll go if you don’t try, and If I were a betting man I’d say Barbara probably told you the same thing.”

He smiles just as Barbara walks in with the others.

For the rest of that morning Melissa thinks about what Jacob said and how he’s right although she’d never say it aloud. Her marriage ended badly and her last relationship ended in an embarrassing failed marriage proposal. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to try again. For the rest of the day her mind drifts off to the woman even during her lesson with the kids.

Up on the second floor after the kids have long gone Jacob holds the phone to his ear walking back and forth across the floor. “Quit being chicken and give it a try.” He huffs into the phone.

“Jacob! What if she says no? Does she even like women?” His friend asks on the other end.

Walking around his classroom Jacob can’t help roll his eyes.

“I know you two have been texting all weekend, if she wasn’t into you she wouldn’t be doing that. Trust me.”

“Fine, but if this backfires you’ll never hear the end of it.”

Later on in the evening Melissa sits on the edge of her bed looking at her phone screen. The phone number shines on the screen, like it’s taunting her. Taking a breath the redhead hits the number almost vibrating as it rings on speaker.

“Hi, gorgeous.” A bubbly voice comes from the other end.

“Hi,” Melissa laughs, “ya know I usually don’t do this but I dunno, I wanted to call ya.”

“I’m happy you did. Textings nice but I like actually talking. Plus it’ll get Jacob off my case.”

“He’s been on you too? I couldn’t get him to leave me alone. I guess that’s what I get for acting like a schoolgirl.” Melissa bites her lip hoping the admission isn’t too weird.

“If it makes you feel any better I was really giddy all weekend.” She chuckles.

Melissa smiles twirling one of her rings. “I guess it wouldn’t be so weird if I asked you out then?”

“I was hoping you would, especially since the first thing you said to me was a dreamy Italian compliment.”

“You heard that huh?” Melissa laughs practically face palming herself. “Your eyes are very pretty.”

“With a compliment like that I’d be very dumb to say no to a date.” She laughs on the other end.

“Finally!” Jacob bursts through the door tossing his hands up.

Melissa and the young woman on the other end both snap at their friend.

“Jacob!”

[abbyssx]

omg just saw you’re writing fluff for Ellie!!! please would you write something where she is like jokingly proposing to reader outside of Joel’s house after coming home from a party or something and Joel sees them and is all like well girls marriage is a big decision tehehehe

Sorry this was so loaded !!!!! <3333

hope you like it! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

“you would look so hot in one of those, babe” hand in hand, coordinated heartbeats and the unmistakeable glimmer of two pairs of glossy eyes that scanned the marvellous dresses exhibited through the window of the closed bridal boutique.

��who says i’ll be the one wearing a dress? i would kill to see you with that sparkly one, you'd look so cute” you replied with a chuckle.

ellie shook her head. “i would rather die”.

“would rather die than marry me? oh, i see how it is, williams” feigning offense, you dramatically dropped her hand and started walking away. ellie followed your footsteps, the noise of her ruined converse shoes meeting the wet pavement alerting you of her moves.

she held your hand again before kissing your cheek and mumbling a soft “let’s get home, it’s getting too cold”.

being almost midnight, the city was quiet. only a few lights shined on the streets, mainly illuminated by the thousands of stars above you both. you couldn’t help but think of marrying ellie. who would propose first? would she say a speech? would she write vows and share them upon the altar, or would she do it in private? bet she would look so beautiful with a suit on. would she let her hair down? would she wear a tie?

a small squeeze on your hand made you abandon the fog of those images and come back to reality.

“what’s on your mind, angel?”

“oh, nothing” you suddenly felt shy. you and ellie had been dating for barely over a year, you were both so young, why were you thinking about marriage? there were so many other experiences you wanted to live with her before tying the knot, but oh, you had been craving for so long a love like this.

“come on… you were thinking about our wedding, right?” of course she knew. she knew you better than anyone else. your cheeks started to feel warm. “it’s okay” ellie chuckled. “i was thinking of that too”.

“yeah?”

“mhm. i know we’re young and stuff but… i’d really like to marry you, y’know? if it were up to me, i’d propose right now”.

“no, you wouldn’t” you scoffed. without noticing, you had already arrived at ellie’s house. you had started to climb the porch stairs when your girlfriend spoke again:

“yes, i would! wait a second” she started rummaging through her coat’s pockets, in search of something. when she found it, she held it in her palm very tightly. “this will do”.

“what are you doing, ellie?” you said, gasping when she got down in one knee.

“i’m not a hoarder, but i’d like to keep you forever. Would you take this weird rock i just found in my pocket as a sign of my eternal love to you and be my wife?” she recited in one breath, her knee getting wet through her jeans because of the melting snow that laid on the sidewalk. hearing your laugh, she got up from her kneeling position, and hugged you very tight. “what? i’m serious! i know it’s not a diamond ring but it’s a cool rock, right?”

 “you are so dumb!” you rolled your eyes.

“but you love me, dumb and all” ellie marked with a kiss on your cheek.

“that is true. i do love you, very much. but I’m freezing my ass off, can we get inside please?”

with your hands intertwined again, you crossed the threshold of the house, immediately enjoying the warmth and coziness. until a very dishevelled joel appeared through the hallway.

“hey girls. um, ellie, can i speak to you for a second?” he looked at you, then diverted his eyes to ellie again “in private?”

“you can go to my room, baby” ellie shot joel a confused look “what’s up?”

“ellie, i… you know i appreciate your love for your girlfriend, i noticed your strong connection and all and, it is wonderful, and i am happy for you, but i think you should wait a bit. you need to have more life experiences and personal growth… building a foundation on your own will make your future together stronger, you know?” he rambled, pacing around the room.

“the fuck are you talking about, joel?”

“it’s just… look, ellie: marriage is a lifelong commitment. i’m not sure you’re ready for it. think this through, please”.

“marriage? who said anything about marriag- oh.” ellie couldn’t contain her giggles, that easily turned into a full belly laugh. “oh my god, joel! i didn’t propose, you dork! i was just kidding, jesus!” she wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

“oh… i was just looking outside and yeah. well, that’s… that’s good, yeah. um, sorry”

Little did any of you know that this would be a part of the funniest (and drunkest) wedding speech by Joel, and that you’d keep that weird rock forever

again, short but sweet :) thank u for aaaall the ideas you’ve given me!! i’ll work on them asap! 🤍

mwah!!!

[ipseitydelrey]

Could you maybe do a fic about Carmy and the reader where they dated all through high school and carmy asked the reader to marry him and she says no bc she doesn’t want to hold him back from going to NYC ?

THIS TOOK SO LONG IM SORRY

as they go by ☆ c. berzatto

ship carmen berzatto x fem!reader

warnings angst with an ambiguous ending (sorry babes <3), slight manipulation?, a hell of a lot of arguing, possible break-up (choice is yours), not beta-read

word count 1.5k

summary initially, you were fine with having a long-distance relationship with carmy while he was in new york city. after all, you’re just his girlfriend; you were happy with that, and that’s how you want it to stay when he’s gone.

a/n this took so insanely and unnecessarily long and i am so sorry for postponing this fic. took a while and it was difficult to write, but i felt determined to finish this. disclaimer: not my best work but i legit tried

The proposal came as a shock. You were sure it had been many seconds, maybe even a minute or two since Carmy had uttered the words “Will you marry me?” as if it was a common phrase, thrown out into the open.

To be fair, you both did discuss the possibility of marriage in the future. But you were naïve high schoolers, merely seventeen and blind to the problems you’d have to face in your personal and shared lives.

You weren’t annoyed or angry that Carmy had gotten the opportunity in New York City; on the contrary, you were happy. It’s a great thing for his career in the culinary world, and seeing him be so excited about the prospect made you feel so proud to see how far he had come.

Granted, maintaining your relationship while he was in New York and you stayed in Illinois would be hard. You told him to expect a lot of phone and video calls, as well as a bombardment of messages, but you didn’t know at the time that he would be gone for a year at least. Still, you both agreed to try.

You could handle being a long-distance girlfriend, but being a long-distance wife?

“I don’t know,” you default to as no other words could come to mind.

Carmy looks at you confused. “You don’t know?” he parrots. “What do you mean?”

You open your mouth, but no words come out.; you don’t even know why you couldn’t just say a simple “yes” or “no.” It’s hard to look him in the eyes, especially when an argument is now inevitable, so you keep your eyes glued to your fidgeting hands in your lap.

“Well, um,” you stammer, struggling to find your verbal footing, “I don’t…wanna move to New York.”

Although you only see a blurred version of him through your peripheral vision, Carmy nods slightly and purses his lips. “I know that already.”

You sigh softly, thinking of what to say next. “I’m comfortable here — I like it in Chicago. It’s just…I don’t know if we can make a long distance thing work if we’re married. I’d be busy and I’m sure you would be too, I don’t know how we would be able to see each other in person if our schedules are so full.”

He sighs; you don’t know if this is actually how he feels, but you swear that he’s annoyed that you didn’t say yes. “Is that it? Y’know, I can just stay here if it worries you—”

“No,” you’re quick to cut him off as you snap your head to look at him. “I don’t want you to give up on an amazing opportunity just because of me.”

“There’s other Michelin star restaurants in Chicago,” he reasons. “I can apply to one of them and stay here.”

“But New York!” You didn’t mean to say it that harshly, so you breathe and try to regain your composure. “I don’t know why you would want to give up being a chef in New York just for me.”

Carmy buries his face in his hands, but his mouth is still exposed. “I’m not…giving it up; I’m just relocating, that’s all. Why are you trying to put my career ahead of you?”

You scoff at the notion. “I’m not.”

“But you are,” he counters exasperatingly. “Why?”

Your lips form a line and you look down. The words are hard to conjure, but they come eventually. “You’ve just loved to cook for so long…and now you have a really good offer and I want you to take it.”

“I’ve loved you for longer.” You can’t really argue when it’s kind of the truth. But then again, he’s always had a interest in cooking — and you’re sure that he developed an interest in you after that.

Knowing that you won’t win this portion of the argument, you sigh, and try to change the topic…sort of. “There’s also another thing,” you mention, and he looks at you again. “I don’t think I’m ready for that sort of thing.”

His tone has a tinge of frustration. “You mean marriage?” he asks sarcastically.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” You’re starting to grow annoyed at his stubbornness; of course you knew he could get like this, but he’s really not letting this conversation go for another day. “You know I didn’t mean like that.”

“Well it’s the implication.” The hell does implication have to do with anything right now? “You’re saying it like it isn’t important for our relationship.”

“You couldn’t have waited until you got back from New York to pop the question?”

“I’ve waited and I’m impatient.”

“Carmen.” The nickname is no longer effective. It’s clear to him now that you’re genuinely pissed with him and have had it. “You’re not listening to me; I’m not ready. Please drop it.”

“Last time we talked about this, you were excited,” he says. “What changed?”

“Well, for one, age,” you retort. “We were, what, seventeen? It’s just teenage talk, and we were too young to be thinking about marriage already.”

You tiredly sigh, looking down at your hands again. “There’s more, isn’t there?” He doesn’t ask it like a question, but instead he says it like a statement for you to confirm.

Hesitantly, you nod. “Just— I’m not ready now, but that doesn’t really mean that I don’t want to get married ever,” you try to grasp at any rational explanation you can, struggling to try to explain why. “If you loved me, then you’d wait, y’know.”

Your eyes shoot wide at the realization of what just slipped out of your lips; did you really just say that? It sounds as if Carmy is thinking that exact same question. “I didn’t mean—”

“You think I don’t love you?” His voice carries a sliver of anger and insecurity as he asks that.

“No, Carm—”

Your words force him to look away from you, his brows furrowed and his nose scrunched. He breathes once through his nose deeply before abruptly getting up from the couch and making a beeline towards the bedroom. Worried, you follow his path and find him harshly opening the closet door and pulling out an old suitcase.

You stand there, a few feet away from him, realizing what he’s doing. “Carmy—”

“You want me to drop it, I’m dropping it.” He doesn’t even so much as glance at you as he tosses the suitcase on the bed and starts to grabs his clothes. “You want me to go to New York, I’m taking the fucking offer. I know you don’t want me here anymore; that’s fine.”

“That’s not true.”

The way he packs is haphazard, rushed and angry; much like how he tends to cook when he gets too emotional. He doesn’t even take the time to fold some of the clothes, opting to instead stuff them in and hope they fit well enough to get the zipper closed. “You have all these excuses and you keep delaying it. It’s clear — you’re fine with marriage, but not with marrying me. You keep saying that you’re not ready, but you’re just too scared to say no. And now I have to do it for you.”

He does manage to close the suitcase and he’s fast to collect it and move past you. “Carm, please,” you turn to follow him, the initial annoyance from earlier flowing out of your body and being replaced with some sort of anxiety bubbling up in your stomach. “Let’s talk about this.”

“We did.” He’s white-knuckling the handle of the bag and he looks at you for only a second. You see a flash of anger, disappointment, and something else you can’t quite put your finger on in his eyes. He unlocks the front door.

“Carmen—”

And you’re interrupted by the abrupt slam of the door closing and the absence of him. Just like that, he’s gone; not even giving you a chance to change his mind or even explain what he means to you — what he meant to you.

You’re supposed to cry, but you can’t even try to force any tears out. You’re just numb and bewildered at how fast the situation unfolded.

You consider for a moment about chasing him like the end of an early 2000’s romcom, but you know that this isn’t like a movie. This isn’t fiction, it’s reality; he wouldn’t just accept you back into his arms like nothing happened, he’d be bitter and loathsome, even more so than he usually is.

You’re not sad. You can’t bring yourself to be sad over him, especially when he couldn’t try to understand how you felt. No, you’re…angry? Would that even be the right word for how you feel now that he’s gone?

You don’t need to think about that; you don’t want to right now. Instead, you drag yourself back to the couch where this all started and you fall onto its cushions, tired of him and tired of this.

The next step to take isn’t clear to you at the moment. You could call Carmy, you could wait, or you could not speak to him ever again. The choice is yours to make, but you don’t want to choose right now. Your eyelids grow heavy, and so you let yourself fall into a cold sleep.

would y’all want a part 2 or not? i’d only write it if y’all wanted it.

[mattivoda]

This post isn’t targeted towards this person in particular but I see this same sort of tiktok come up on my timeline every couple of months and it feels me with a very specific RAGE because of how wrong it is about the core message of this show.

For those who don’t know, the music from the TikTok comes from the musical The Last Five Years, made by Jason Robert Brown. It originally opened in Chicago in 2001, then making its way to Broadway in 2002 after great reviews from critics and audiences.

the elevator pitch of the show is simple; a writer exploding with success (Jamie) and a struggling actress (Kathy) and the rise and fall of their marriage.

Normally this would be a pretty basic musical, right? However the true genius comes from one key part of its storytelling: the order at which the story is shown to you.

Jamie performs his side of the story in chronological order, from the start of the relationship ending with their divorce. Kathy, however, tells her story flipped; starting with their divorce and ending when Kathy first meets Jamie.

The two actors almost never interact on-stage, singing solo songs for every single song except for the act one ending song The Next Ten Minutes, where Jamie proposes and the two marry.

Now you might be asking: why is this important to the story? and which character was supposed to be the “bad guy” in the marriage?

If you delve into the story and look at the way the story depicts both characters’ perspectives on what happened then an obvious fact becomes clear:

Jamie is an asshole and was the main problem in the marriage. You aren’t, and never were supposed to side with him.

Throughout the show, Jamie is shown to be obsessed with his own fame, gloating about how he seems to only be able to exponentially succeed in his writing. His obsession makes him blind to the struggles of his wife, even going as far as deluding himself into thinking his wife’s struggles is simply her being jealous of his success. By the end of the show, Jamie cheats on Kathy and proceeds to blame her for not allowing him privacy.

THAT’S why the storytelling of The Last Five Years is so compelling. By only showing these characters seperate from each other, it forces us to become familiar with Jamie and Kathy as individuals rather than a couple. It allows us to see Jamie’s douchebaggery up-close and personal, with the entire first act highlighting this glaring detail and allowing us to see the consequences of this as his marriage devolve in the second act. Just the simple fact that Jamie’s story is chronological creates a beautiful dichotomy between Kathy’s frustrations, sadness and abandonment and Jamie’s cocky, happy-go-lucky success story.

Before I finish writing this and go to bed, i’d like to say I don’t blame those who hold this view for thinking this about The Last Five Years for one reason only; the only way they got to see it was the movie version.

the film adaption of The Last Five Years (2014) decided that the reason the musical worked was because “interesting timeline go brrr” and decided to keep the original timeline, but instead had both characters constantly interacting.

Instead of having this abstract deconstruction of these two characters, with both Kathy and Jamie monologuing their personal thoughts and emotions separately, they mash together and create this weird, realistic depiction of a breakup. The performances from Anna Kendrick and Jeremy Jordan were amazing, don’t get me wrong, but these choices in the adaption rip the emotion and soul out of its inspiration and sell the corpse for $20 a viewing.

Jamie and Kathy’s marriage is a cautionary tale about what happens when you don’t listen and understand your partner. It is not a desperate attempt of a composer to appear in the right about his marriage and it shouldn’t be a sloppy retelling of a failed marriage with a quirky form of storytelling. Please please PLEASE if you agree with this original TikTok’s message just know you are so UNBELIEVABLY wrong.

tldr; you are not supposed to side with Jamie!!!! he is in the wrong!!!! that’s the whole point of the musical!!!!! don’t watch the movie it sucks and is innacurate!!!!!!! RAHHHHHHHHHHHH

[wooahaes]

this love is full of fairy tales

pairing: non-idol!felix x fem!reader

genre: fluff, romance, established relationship au. engaged au.

warnings: food. talks of marriage. vague mentions about having kids in the distant future. felix and reader being dorks in love.

word count: 1.8k~

daisy's notes: kinda reflected on some personal stuff while writing this one oopsie!! its not in the fic tho dw

As cheesy as it probably sounded, Felix loved the fact that you spoke with your hands a lot. Right now, it meant your engagement ring would catch the light every so often, and he could quietly smile to himself with a giddy joy that he was getting to marry you one day. The fact that this restaurant had intimate lighting only made the experience better in his eyes.

The waitress had been politely chatting with you as she prepared a pot of cheese fondue for the two of you, talking animatedly about her own husband once you revealed that the two of you were engaged. She had her own wedding stories to share, and advice to impart on the two of you in order to ensure a happy day. Felix just kept looking at you, smiling to himself at how pretty you looked in the low light. When he told you where the two of you were going, you’d dressed up with glee over the fact you had an excuse to look nice. Most of the time, the two of you went to casual places—or a place where the most ‘dressy’ you had to get was maybe a nice shirt and pants. This place was expensive and filling (the best of both worlds, in his opinion) and he knew you loved it from a prior visit a while ago… So why not? 

The waitress left soon enough, and the two of you began to dive into the cheese course. Felix offered you a piece of bread from his own fork, watching the way you pulled it off with your teeth after a moment. “So…” 

You looked up, hand cupped over your mouth as you chewed. “Mm?” 

“We’ve talked about it before, but since you brought up the wedding…” He absentmindedly picked at food for a moment. “I was wondering how dress shopping has been going.”

“Ugh.” You frowned a little for a moment. “I mean—I like the dresses. But… I dunno. There’s so many, and some of them don’t look good on me when they look great on other people, and…” You trailed off for a moment, frowning. “Sometimes I just kinda wish you were there with me.”

“Do you want me to be?”

Pressing your lips together, you nodded. “At least to help me narrow it down. If it’s important to you, I won’t show you the final dress… But I’d feel better if I had you there to help me narrow things down.” 

He reached out just to take your hand, kissing your knuckles before letting it go. “Then I’ll be there.” He paused for just a second, “Oh! Seungmin said he’d take our engagement photos. I figured we’d get someone else to do the actual wedding, but—”

“No, that’s great,” you beamed. “As long as he doesn’t mind.”

The two of you kept talking casually, both about the wedding and about other day-to-day things. Yet Felix’s mind kept going back to the day he proposed to you. He’d been talking to so many people about it. To his parents, who told him to follow his heart. Getting married around your mid-twenties wasn’t a bad thing at all, even if it did feel young at times: the two of you still had plenty of time to do other things if that was what you wanted (which Felix later realized was their subtle way of saying that there was no race for the two of you to have kids right away). He’d talked to his sisters about it, and they’d teased him but basically told him the same thing. Eventually, he had lunch with Chris and talked to him about it… followed by the two of them going to look for rings. Felix had your ring size written down, after all, and who else to help him pick something than the person right there with him. 

“I think she’ll like whatever you pick for her,” Chris had said to him while standing over glass cases, staring down at different designs.

He nodded along. Felix had known for years that you weren’t picky with jewelry, aside from preferring silver over gold. Yet he couldn’t ignore the way his heart seemed to race in his chest, the realization that this was real having set in. He was going to propose. The two of you had talked about marriage again months ago, and you’d basically said you could see yourself getting married to him. Whether that be sooner or later, you were fine with either… and something in his heart said soon. If he was going to spend his life with you like he wanted to, then why wait? No one said he had to marry you immediately, either. If the two of you wanted to have a long engagement, then you could do that. He stopped when he saw this small ring that had tiny diamonds along the sides of it, alternating in this leaf-line pattern, with one slightly larger gem in the middle of it. It made him think of fairy tales, if he were honest. Dreamy. Romantic. Things that he associated with you for so many reasons.

Chris came up beside him, looking down at it. “This one?” He pointed, just to be sure he was following Felix’s line of sight correctly. “I think she’d love that one, actually.”

Every day, Felix was glad the two of you had separate accounts for things like this. One joint one for things like bills and shared expenses, but he liked knowing he could surprise you easily by dipping into his own account. The ring practically burned a hole in his pocket for weeks as he tried to plan out the best way to propose to you. He knew he was going to get at least one or two of his friends to record it happening, just so the two of you would have that memory together. He’d thought about proposing at a nice restaurant, much like the one the two of you were in now…

“Felix?” You called out, and then giggled when he came back to reality. “Hi, sunshine. Everything okay?”

It was. With you in it, it always would be. “Yeah,” he said. “Just thinking.”

“Oh?” Your voice held a playful lift to it, and he wished he could kiss that smile now. “You wanna share?”

You would tease him if you knew. So he shook his head, changing the topic to how work had been treating you lately. Things had been rough before, and you seemed happier, so…

And then he let himself drift back into that memory. The two of you had gone on a picnic together by the river. One minute, the two of you were in deep conversation… and the next he’d been texted that Seungmin was in place and ready to record as soon as Felix took you down to the river. It’d been easy enough to get you to come with him (and Felix glanced back to see Jeongin had sat down at the picnic spot once the two of you were gone, just to protect it while Seungmin tailed you), talking about the early days of your relationship. You had been so shy with him, but that was okay. He had been shy, too. He didn’t want to mess anything up with you.

And then he turned to you. “I really love you, you know?” 

It earned a giggle from you. “I love you, too, you dork.” You drew him in for a quick kiss. “You’re sentimental tonight, huh?”

He had a speech planned. He had so much he wanted to say to you. And then he teared up, pulse racing as he reached up to wipe his eyes. 

“Lixie?” 

“I’m fine!” He said, “I just—” Fuck it. He took a deep breath and then got down on one knee, pulling out the box. “I was going to say so, so much more, but… I think I should just ask you already.”

You ended up crying, too. But you said that one magic word when he asked, and he slipped the ring on your finger. You gushed over it for so long, and ended up taking him to a store to have him pick out his own ring. 

“It’s only fair, you know,” you had said to him, looking into the cases. “You should show something off, too.” 

Even tonight, he noticed the way you kept noticing how his own ring would shine in the light. He cared for it so carefully, never taking it off for long unless he was polishing it. It was a gift from you, after all: he always took care of the things you’d get for him, regardless of how big or small they were. He noticed your own subtle smiles over it, too.

“Hey,” Felix said at one point. The cheese course had been cleaned up, and the two of you were enjoying your salads. “I know this is kind of random, but… I’m really glad I met you in this life.” 

Your gaze softened so much as you watched him. “Oh… Felix.” Your foot brushed against his calf, a safer way to let him know you were listening instead of your usual way of taking his hand considering the built-in cooktop between you was still hot from the cheese. “I’m really glad, too.” Then your nose scrunched as you giggled. “God, it feels like you’re going to propose to me again.”

“Maybe I will.” He smiled at you, turning a fork between his fingers. “If they didn’t already know… We could have probably gotten something for free.”

It earned another giggle from you, one that he never wanted to stop hearing. He’d trade everything if it meant he could keep you as happy as he could for the rest of your lives. “I’ll stop bragging, then.”

“No, don’t.” He rested his head in one hand, just to admire you for a moment. “I don’t think I could, so… It wouldn’t be fair.”

“Do you brag about me?”

You were teasing him, but he’d always be honest. “I do,” he said with this soft smile. “It’s kind of hard not to.” 

You sputtered for a moment, face growing hot, and immediately went to take a long sip of your drink. The two of you had been together for so long, and still he found ways to mess with you like this. “Yeah,” you said after you’d composed yourself. “Uh. Ditto.” 

He snorted a little. “Ditto?”

“Don’t poke fun at me!” You pouted at him. “You know being sweet like that scrambles my brain.”

Felix just smiled, stabbing his fork into another piece of his salad. “I think it’s my job now to poke fun at you,” he said. “You’ll do the same, though. I know you.” 

Again, your foot brushed against his calf. “Yeah… You do.” You relaxed once more. “And I will.”He wouldn’t trade it for anything else. Especially if it meant he could kiss you at the end of each birthday, mumbling a soft “Happy birthday, my star,” against your lips.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @jinnie-ret @cheesemonky

[helios-writings]

There are some days when Shanks feels bad about not being able to give you the life he thinks you deserve. Days where you and he barely see each other because the pair of you are working overtime. Days where the two of you sit at the table, stressed about what bills you can cover and what you’ll have to live without.

Others days, he knows, are better. Curled up in each others arms on your days off, the smell of breakfast cooking even though its two in the afternoon. Still, he’d always dreamed about giving you a life of luxury, about spoiling you and making sure you didn’t have to work another shitty job if you didn’t want to. He’s not quite there yet, but he hopes one day he will be.

The two of you are walking hand in hand through the richer shopping district, windowshopping in all the pricier stores that give him hives just thinking about stopping in, but he loves the way you smile as you envision how you would decorate the foyer of your fictional mansion with a giant gold and crystal chandelier.

He laughs, not at you, but at the absurdity of it. “What would we need with something like that, huh?”

You shrug. “Sometimes things are just nice to have.”

He’d buy you a million of those ugly things if it meant making you happy.

Instead, Shanks points to something else. “And where would you put this?”

“Our living room, right next to the giant comfy couch, so I can admire it while I sit next to you.”

The two of you carry on like this, until you find a cozy old antique shop buried inbetween two high end boutiques.

“Lets go in here.” He tells you, stopping you with a gentle tug on your hand.

“Antiques? I didn’t know you liked old stuff like that.”

“I had a crush on our high school math teacher, didn’t I?”

You roll your eyes. “And yet, you’re here with me.”

He elbows you playfully in the side. “Well, she couldn’t compare to you.”

You just laugh and head inside the store.

The inside smells like dust and the culmination of other peoples belongings, but he’s drawn to the jewelry shelf towards the entrance, whilst you wander off by yourself down one of the countless aisles. The shelf holds many pieces of jewelry, but what catches his eye is a pair of wedding rings, obviously on the older side, but the feeling hits him so fast, it feels like his heart has fallen to his feet.

Shanks had never thought about proposing to you. Not in a “terrified of marriage” way, but to him you already were. But, standing in that store, the need had never been more apparent, and the rings were within his budget. It felt like a sign from on high, even if you were the one who believed in signs like that.

You both left the store half an hour later, his wallet a bit lighter, but pocket heavier.

You make dinner that night, something simple, but delicious and Shanks, never one to second guess himself, jumps right in.

“I want to marry you.”

Your eyes widen as you nearly spit out your drink. “Wh-“

He pulls the rings out and continues. “I know you didn’t dream about living in a one bedroom apartment with shitty heating and cooling, and that you deserve better than I can give you, but I promise you that you’ll have it one day. Whatever you want, a big house, dogs or cats, a huge ugly gold and crystal chandelier in the foyer. I want to give that all to you.”

You take his hand in yours. “Shanks, baby, we may not live the life you think we deserve, but I live the life I want with you every day. I don’t care about any of that stuff, not really. So what if our heating breaks in the middle of winter? So what if I can’t have a big yard or house? I’d rather have you.”

He feels his eyes get a little misty and he turns away. “I’m not the one who’s supposed to be crying here.”

You roll your eyes and slip one of the rings on. “I’ll marry you.”

He kisses you deep, a grin on his face that won’t go away no matter how hard he tries.

The wedding takes place in a court house, costing no more than 120 dollars and the two of you wearing the nicest clothes you can afford, but its perfect and neither of you would dream of anything else, not when you have each other. This is the life you deserve, and he can give it to you after all.