#wood wedding box

[silveredsticks]

when the sun shines we'll shine together

[splendidsneb]

So last month my brother bought me a wood burning tool for my birthday. "I didn't really know what to get you but then I saw this and it jumped right out at me."

I was excited because I always like trying new arts and craft mediums, and I never would have thought to get one for myself.

So I bought some scrap wood and some transfer paper and tested using it. I'm obviously still super green with the tool, but I decided for his wedding shower later in the month I wanted to make him and his fiancée a hand made gift with it.

I knew I wanted to do something silly and with cats, because they're both big Tabby fiends, having three of them currently, and as soon as I saw the bread box at the shop, I knew what I had to do.

They both loved it and my brothers reaction was priceless, "Their faces being little slices of bread is both cute and a little bit disturbing."

Mission accomplished.

[treasuresnorway]

[merrybrides]

Floral Wood Box Centerpiece For Your Rustic Wedding

[umabloomer]

I got a job at a Ukrainian museum.

On the first day someone asks me if I have any Ukrainian heritage. I say I had ancestors from Odesa, but they were Jewish, so they weren’t considered Ukrainian, and they wouldn’t have considered themselves Ukrainian. My job is every day I go through boxes of Ukrainian textiles and I write a physical description, take measurements, take photographs, and upload everything into the database. I look up “Jewish” in the database and there is no result. 

Some objects have no context at all, some come with handwritten notes or related documents. I look at thick hand-spun, hand-woven linen heavy with embroidery. Embroidery they say can take a year or more. I think of someone dressed for a wedding in their best clothes they made with their own hands. Some shirts were donated with photographs of the original owners dressed in them, for a dance at the Ukrainian Labour Temple, in 1935. I handle the pieces carefully, looking at how they fit the men in the photos, and how they look almost a hundred years later packed in acid-free tissue. One of the men died a few years later, in the war. He was younger than I am now. The military archive has more photographs of him with his mother, his father, his fiancé. I take care in writing the catalogue entry, breathing in the history, getting tearful. 

I imagine people dressed in their best shirts at Easter, going around town in their best shirts burning the houses of Jews, in their best shirts, killing Jews. A shirt with dense embroidery all over the sleeves and chest has a note that says it is from Husiatyn. I look it up and find that it was largely a Jewish town, and Ukrainians lived in the outskirts. There is a fortress synagogue from the Renaissance period, now abandoned. 

When my partner Aaron visits I take him to an event at the museum where a man shows his collection of over fifty musical instruments from Ukraine, and he plays each one. Children are seated on the floor at the front. We’re standing in a corner, the room full of Ukrainians, very aware that we look like Jews, but not sure if anyone recognizes what that looks like anymore. Aaron gets emotional over a song played on the bandura. 

A note with a dress says it came from the Buchach region. I find a story of Jewish life in Buchach in the early twentieth century, preparing to flee as the Nazis take over. I cry over this.

I’m cataloguing a set of commemorative ribbons that were placed on the grave of a Ukrainian Nationalist leader, Yevhen Konovalets, after he was assassinated. The ribbons were collected and stored by another Nationalist, Andriy Melnyk, who took over leadership after Konovalets’ death. The ribbons are painted or embroidered with messages honouring the dead politician. I start to recognize the word for “leader”, the Cyrillic letters which make up the name of the colonel, the letters “OYH” which stand for Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN in English). The OUN played a big part in the Lviv pogroms in 1941, I learn. The Wikipedia article has a black and white image of a woman in her underwear, running in terror from a man and a young boy carrying a stick of wood. The woman’s face is dark, her nose may be bleeding. Her underwear is torn, her breast exposed. I’m measuring, photographing, recording the stains and loose threads in the banners that honour men who would have done this to me. 

Every day I can’t stop looking at my phone, looking up the news from Gaza, tapping through Instagram stories that show what the news won’t. Half my family won’t talk to the other half, after I share an article by a scholar of Holocaust and genocide studies, who says Israel is committing a genocide. My dad makes a comment that compares Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto. This gets him in trouble. My aunt says I must have learned this antisemitism at university, but there is no excuse for my dad. 

This morning I see images from Israeli attacks in the West Bank, where they are not at war. There are naked bodies on the dusty ground. I’m not sure if they are alive. This is what I think of when I see the image from the Lviv pogrom. If what it means for Jews to be safe from oppression is to become the oppressor, I don’t want safety. I don’t want to speak about Jews as if we are one People, because I have so little in common with those in green uniforms and tanks. I am called a self-hating Jew but I think I am a self-reflecting Jew.

I don’t know how to articulate how it feels to be handling objects which remind me of Jewish traumas I inherited only from history classes and books. Textiles hold evidence of the bodies that made them and used them. I measure the waist of a skirt and notice that it is the same as my waist size. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Jewish homes during pogroms. I think of clothing and textiles that were looted from Palestinian homes during the ongoing Nakba. Clothes hold the shape of the body that once dressed in them. Sometimes there are tears, mends, stains. I am rummaging through personal belongings in my nitrile gloves. 

I am hands-on learning about the violence caused by Ukrainian Nationalism while more than nine thousand Palestinians have been killed by the State of Israel in three weeks, not to mention all those who have been killed in the last seventy-five years of occupation, in the name of the Jewish Nation, the Jewish People — me? If we (and I am hesitant to say “we”) learned anything from the centuries of being killed, it was how to kill. This should not have been the lesson learned. Zionism wants us to feel constantly like the victims, like we need to defend ourself, like violence is necessary, inevitable. I need community that believes in freedom for all, not just our own People. I need the half of my family who believes in this necessary “self-defence” to remember our history, and not just the one that ends happily ever after with the creation of the State of Israel. Genocide should not be this controversial. We should not be okay with this. 

Tomorrow I will go to work and keep cataloguing banners that honour the leader of an organization which led pogroms. I will keep checking the news, crying into my phone, coordinating with organizers about our next actions, grappling with how we can be a tiny part in ending this genocide that the world won’t acknowledge, out of guilt over the ones it ignored long ago. 

[dragpinkman]

dinner until 12:30am wedding cake finally complete 🙏🙏

[dilfsfordinner]

honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader

a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband

warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff

—————————————————————————

Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.

Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.

It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.

Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.

For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.

It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.

It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.

Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.

Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.

“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.

Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.

He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.

Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.

Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.

Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.

“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.

“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.

***

It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.

His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.

Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.

Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.

Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.

“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.

——————————————————————————

[b1gtimerush]

set the scene setting prompts (but a little more specific) from yours truly.

001, a convenience store past midnight.

002, a hospital waiting room at 3 in the morning.

003, a photoshoot outdoors in the middle of winter.

004, an indoor filming set of a detective's office.

005, a new house/apartment filled with unopened cardboard boxes.

006, a swing set in an empty playground at night.

007, on stage in an empty theatre.

008, inside an old abandoned house.

009, an empty cemetery at night.

010, the arrival hall at an airport.

011, the last train compartment that's not full.

012, the roulette table in a casino.

013, on the deck of a cruise ship.

014, a kitchen during a black out, surrounded by candles.

015, a treehouse in the middle of the woods.

016, on the dance floor during a wedding.

017, behind the chapel before the wedding ceremony starts.

018, backstage during the middle of a concert.

019, a crowded club during a bachelorette party.

020, standing in front of a painting at a museum.

021, a small, intimate family barbecue.

022, a gazebo while it's raining.

023, the back of an empty bus.

024, a hotel room with only one bed.

025, an empty balcony while a party goes on inside.

026, a bar just after closing.

027, an empty sports stadium.

028, lakeside while the sun is setting.

030, an empty stretch of road beside a broken down car.

031, in front of a suspicious pool of blood in an empty parking lot.

032, in the crowd of spectators during an underground fight.

033, a plane during a bout of turbulence.

034, on kiss cam at a sports game.

035, at a table during a charity gala.

036, a masquerade ball.

037, a halloween party in a suburban house.

038, the beach in the late afternoon.

039, a dressing room after a big performance.

040, exploring the depths of a mysterious cave.

[heartfullofleeches]

Fletcher [Flemish Rabbit Hybrid Yan] and Scraggly Hare Darling- Hare Darling who just want to live a quiet life with zero company but themselves. Lives in a rundown cabin not too far away from town where Fetch and the rabbit hybrids reside - selling fire wood and whatever else the forest provides in exchange for food and other necessities. Darling is naturally taller than the rabbits, but there's hardly anyone who can beat Fetch's weight and height.

Darling sprints off like someone lit a fire to their tail whenever the darker is around. Dude's scary - just staring at them while they're going about their business. Little do they know Fletcher has been in love with them since the first and only time they delivered fire wood to his doorstep. After seeing the giant rabbit lurking by one of the windows Darling leaves the wood at the farm's gate and prays he isn't home when they do. He hates to see them leave, but loves to watch them go.

Who doesn't enjoy a good chase?

-

[The rope Hare Darling uses to carry wood snaps as they carry a new stack into town]

Hare Darling: No, no, no- I don't want to be in this place longer than I have to!

"Need a hand?"

Hare Darling: Yeah, that'd be-

[Darling looks over their shoulder, the sun blocked out by the enormous rabbit standing behind them. Darling screams bloody murder - running off into the trees. Darling later finds a box of fresh vegetables at their doorstep]

Darling: [hyperventilating] Fuck! He knows where I live!

-

Shop Owner Bun: Y/n, dear! I have some cake for you here.

Hare Darling: Cake? Oh, uh...Thanks... [takes the cake from the shopkeep, biting into it as they peal away the plastic]

Fletcher: Whatcha think? Made it myself just for you. If ya like the flavor I'll keep it mind when we start planning the wedding.

[Hate Darling goes pale - dropping the cake and crawling out of an own window.]

Shop Owner Bun: Fetch... What do you see in them? Poor thing is scared to death of you...

Fletcher: You seen the legs on them? I'd kill a man for one touch.

[be-with-me-so-happily]

Okay so hear me out. Angst. Pure hardcore I’m gonna crawl into a hole angst. DIVORCERRY. (I’m unwell I can’t help it)

I'm back! Feels weird tbh. Hehe, I had actually started writing this before going through my own. Feels timely that I post it now. It might not be as angsty as you requested, and/or as I intended, but I hope you enjoy... it's been so long since I've written that I have no idea of it's any good.

You never thought you'd be here. Then again, does anyone? Sitting in a cold conference room, with your lawyer beside you and the man you thought you'd spend the rest of your life with now avoiding eye contact, as he stares down at his rings from across the large wooden table. It's not something you ever considered happening when you said 'I do'.

But here you are, feeling every emotion and yet none at all, listening to a mediator list off all the 'assets' that you and Harry accumulated together over the years.

Item after item brings back memory after memory, and a part of you wants it to stop. What's the point? These are things you bought together, found together, did together. Now you are no longer together.

"Mrs. Sty-... sorry, I mean... Ms. YN."

“Hm?” Your eyes shoot up to the man at the head of the table, the one who is there to divvy up the material items from your relationship. The only one who seems to have a hint of compassion in his eyes.

“Is there anything you'd like to start with? Something in particular you'd like to have for yourself?”

What a loaded question. Is there something you want? Yes. How about the last few years back? Or how about a marriage that didn't fall apart in the first place? How about just the beautifully dimpled smile that would appear any time Harry looked your way, rather than the small, apathetic glances you occasionally receive when you have to be in the same room with each other?

You clear your throat, taking note of the fact that Harry still has yet to look at you.

"All I ask… is for my attorney fees to be covered.” You take a quick, deep inhale. “That's all. He can have everything else."

You immediately rise from the chair, oddly one of the most comfortable you've been in, especially considering the situation. Of course, this is the moment he looks up at you, with the most intense furrow of confusion plastered across his brow.

“YN.” Your lawyer whispers, causing you to look down to a face just as confused as the one sitting across from you.

“Just…” You shake your head, knowing that you'll only be encouraged to stay there longer, to continue with the torturous meeting, and dissect why something could mean so much to you. “Just send me the papers to sign.”

“Come on YN…” The sudden deep tone of that familiar British voice sends a shock through your system. With how little you've heard it lately, you'd almost forgotten what it sounded like. Almost. “There has to be something you want. I’m… I'm willing to negotiate.”

You drop your head and rest your palms against the wooden table in front of you. There's a lot that you want, but right the only thing you need is for this meeting to be over.

"Harry, I was never with you to get something from you, other than love.” The tightening in your chest begins, leaving you to feel as if words and air are both now difficult to find. “Now that's gone, so I don't really have anything to fight you for."

You stand back straighter, reaching into your purse and withdrawing the last thing you still had from him.

In your hand is a box, a small box, which you place on the table and glide across the wood, your heart almost questioning if you'll be able to let it go. You release it with a sigh and a full ache in your heart as you realize that this is it. This is the end.

Harry's gaze darts back and forth, never landing on your eyes or the object for more than a few seconds. There's a look on his face of potential disbelief. Maybe it's finally hitting him too, though neither of you should be surprised.

“It's my-”

“Wedding… ring...”

You aren't sure if either lawyer or the mediator heard the whispers of the short interaction, but the room suddenly becomes silent, the void paralleling what's left of your marriage.

What do you say now? What's an appropriate parting statement to give the man you never thought you would part from?

Then again, you've both said all that you needed to say. That's why you are there. So maybe it's best to leave it at that.

You allow yourself one last look at him, and your heart feels as if it's breaking all over again, seeing the same sentiment in his eyes. Those beautiful green eyes you wanted to look at forever.

Considering all the songs Harry's written about sweet fruit, you wish this moment didn't taste so sour.

Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss @behindmygreyeyes @michellekstyles @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @buckybarnessimpp @msolbesg @sleutherclaw @katiebaxterrrrrr @percysaidnever @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @itsbebeyyy @divalovesyou @bxbyysstuff @sunshinemoonsposts @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @boybands-baseball @austynparksandpizza @missmielyhoran @harryspirate @tiaamberxx @matildasatellite @cherryshouse @yatebe-kohayu @perfectzinenerdperson @babyiamperfectforyou @daphnesutton @around1302 @daydreamingofmatilda @swiftmendeshoran @one-sweet-gubler @jerseygirlinca @carey86 @lomlhstyles @vrittivsanghavi @fdl305 @sunflowersloverr @lemoncrushh @groovychaosavenue @justlemmeadoreyou @copiastricycle @lillefroe

[littlelamy]

moodboard: wedding; rafe x reader

i can see rafe’s wedding being the opposite of intimate—more of a grand event with his dad’s business colleagues, influential people, and a bit of that cameron flair, just to show you off. it would be loud, extravagant, and undeniably crazy. but despite the spectacle, rafe would make sure that you get the wedding you’ve always dreamed of. i imagine him planning something special, just for you, in a place like france or italy. picture a secluded, gothic-style church nestled in a quaint village, the kind where time seems to stand still.

the decor would be understated yet elegant. lace accents drape over dark wood pews, and the table settings would be a study in contrasts—simple but unique. picture fine china with delicate patterns, perhaps edged in gold, and centerpieces that draw the eye without overwhelming the scene. everything would feel carefully curated, almost like stepping into a timeless dream.

before the wedding, i imagine you surprising rafe with a small, elegant box. inside, it’s filled with little trinkets—tokens of your love, inside jokes, and maybe a few spicy photos that would make him smirk in that way only he can. in return, rafe would give you something equally personal and meaningful. maybe a custom-made pipe with both of your names engraved on it, or a lighter with his handwritten name inscribed. each item would carry the weight of his affection, something to remind you of the bond you share, not just on your wedding day but for every day after.

[scarqn]

Ken Sato Drabble: Picnic anniversary

Pairing: husband!Kenji sato x wife!fem!reader

Summary: it’s yours and your husband, Kenji’s 5th wedding anniversary, and he has a surprise for you.

No warnings, just cute stuff.

A/n: nothing too big, but enough. Sorry for being away for so long, I’ve been very busy with life🫡

Not proof read btw guys😂

Wc:??idk

For @dokyeomkyeom 🫡🫡

Today marks yours and you husbands wedding anniversary. This morning you were blessed with no screaming children jumping on your bed you share with Kenji. In fact, you were also blessed with breakfast in bed.

Ken had told you once you are done with your food, to get ready for something he has planned this afternoon. You had looked at him kinda surprised, “What have you got planned?” You had asked. Kenji winked at you, “It’s a surprise.” He replied before leaving you in your room with breakfast.

Once you were finished and ready, Kenji got the kids ready, packing a bag each for them for their grandpas, Kenji’s father. After many kisses goodbyes from you two mini you and Kenji, you and Kenji had finally started your journey.

The ride was 30 minutes long, your husband told you to relax for a while until you guys get there. And you did that, window down, your favourite music playing. You hum along to the music as Ken puts his hand on your leg, tapping a finger to the beat and grabbing your hand to peck it.

Half an hour later, you arrive at your destination. A wooded area? You have Kenji a confused look. “It’s about a 10 minute walk from here to where we actually need to be.” He tells you, pecking your lips. The walk wasn’t long, but you could feel you legs growing tired. No matter how much you chase around the children, you still can cope a ten minute walk.

Kenji stops in front of you, holding out a blind fold, “Gunna need you to wear this, baby.” He tells you. You eyebrows raise, “What’s this?” You hum. He shrugs and puts the blindfold over your eyes, “Gotta wait and see.”

He puts an arm around your waist, guiding you- and to make sure your dopey ass doesn’t trip and fall.

You stop and you feel your husband taking off the blindfold. You were greeted with a beautiful view of the landscape. “Wow.” You managed to say, only in a barely whisper. You were stunned and in awe.

You turn to Kenji and smile sheepishly, “What’s this?” You question. He kisses you, “Picnic.” He grins. Out of happiness and excitement you pull him in a bear hug, squeezing him tightly. “I love it.” You kiss his lips.

Both of you make your way over to where the blanket with a basket is laid out. You help him set everything out. Plates, wine glasses, food and the wine.

You notice it’s all of your favourite foods and snacks.

You both dig into the food almost immediately, “Oh my gosh I’m so hungry,” you moan as you stuff your mouth with a sandwich. “You had breakfast not even two hours ago.”

You glare at him, “Yeah, and?” He laughs at your reaction. You continue to eat the food, drinking wine on the side. It then comes to dessert; ice cream, a small chocolate cake with strawberries on top.

After you finish eating, you and Kenji chill out a bit, talking about your next vacation as the sun starts to set.

Kenji suddenly perks up, “oh, I almost forgot.” He says as he digs into the basket, “I got you a present.” You look at him with wide eyes, you didn’t even get him anything. “I didn’t get you anything.” You say almost boldly.

He chuckles lowly, “That’s fine, baby. But I got you something, here open it.” He hands the small box over to you. You shyly open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace. “Are those your initials?” You laugh out. He nods. “You’re so adorable,” you say before kissing him.

“I love it, thank you.” You take it out of the box, it’s white gold, since you hate gold with a passion. He helps you put it on and you admire it.

“Thank you, Ken. Seriously today has been perfect.” You hug him.

He looks at you with a smudged look, “What?” You question. “Did I tell you that the kids are staying at my dad’s for the night?” He grins.

I shake my head until I realise what he means, “We haven’t finished yet, let’s go home and finish this perfect day off with the most perfect sex.” He smirks.

“You know you can just tell me if you want another kid.” You say jokingly.

[pit-and-the-pen]

Birthday Present

Birthday fic for @sarawritestories.

Summary: Cassian was gone during your birthday and shows up while you’re at work to make up for it. 

Warnings: Smut (18+), P in v, Oral (f/m receiving), spit, collars/leash, fingering. 

WC: 4.1k

This was probably the longest you had been separated from Cassian since the mating bond had snapped. You weren’t mad per say but you missed your mate like crazy. Not to mention that he had missed your birthday three days ago. You knew that he had wanted to be there, he made sure to top the previous year's celebration every time. And he always managed to deliver. Somehow after being mated for more than fifty years, he had never disappointed. But this year he was helping finally start to train the females in Windhaven. Something that you knew he had been fighting for for so long, how could you be mad at him for being there when that’s what was keeping him away.

Your birthday party was amazing nonetheless. Cassian had left detailed instructions for Nesta and Gwen as to how the party would go. He made sure to order your favorite foods well in advance, even having your present delivered first thing in the morning along with a bouquet of pink and white roses that was so large it took two people to deliver it. It filled the house with the scent of roses. The smell almost makes up for the lack of your favorite smell in the whole world, that citrus and salt smell that always seemed to accompany Cassian. The other part of your gift was a ruby choker with a piece of his siphon carved into the same shape as the diamond on your wedding band. You had nearly cried when you opened the box and had sent the image of you wearing it to your mate and the satisfied rush of lust you received back only proved how much he liked it too. You wish he had been there when you opened it, wish you could have shown him just how much you appreciated the piece of him that you now wore around your neck. Everyone already damn well knew who your mate was but the weight of it around your neck served as a warm reminder for you. 

You rolled out of bed when your alarm went off, your mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton balls in it. Nesta, Gwen and Elain had made sure that you properly celebrated your birthday last night. The empty bottles of wine and some clear liquor you didn't bother asking the name of proved as much. You gulped down the glass of water you had the sense to place out the night before and began to get dressed for the day. 

You picked one of your favorite skirts. Long by fae standards, nearly brushing your calf. A swirling floral pattern offset the dark green of the background. You tucked in the long sleeved cream sweater and gave a small twirl in the mirror, watching the way the skirt fanned out around you as you did so. Your hair was quickly thrown into a high ponytail and you made sure to pull the necklace out from the high neck of the sweater. The charm just visible. 

Quickly grabbing a slice of toast and some left over fruit from last night, you grabbed your bag and walked out the door. The slight chill in the morning air made you thankful for the sweater but you knew by the time the sun rose you would be sweating. The sound of your shoes hitting the cobblestoned street was the only sound that filled the air. You loved these quiet moments in the early morning. It gave you time to really soak in the beauty of Velaris. The way the rainbow street near your little shop shone in the faint rays of sunlight. The way the city itself seemed to hum with the sleeping breaths of its inhabitants. It was one of your favorite times to be out. You fished around in your bag for the ring of keys to unlock the store and stood in the doorway as you waited for the flights to kick on.

 You loved the shop with all of your heart. It had been a mating present from Rhys. Your very own book store. The dark wood and dim lights made it seem so cozy. Cozy chairs and booths would be  full of readers or writers thanks to the little cafe you had thought to add. Plus it had some of the best pastries in all of Velrais, so you’ve been told. 

You switched the books on display for the day, putting your most recent read on the table next to a few new releases you had just gotten at the end of the day yesterday. Swirling letters were drawn on the sign next to them along with a small doddle to tell a little bit about the book and then you were ready to open the store, flipping the small “open” sign that Feyre had painted for you. You pulled the book you started last night out of your bag and sat down as you waited for people to start coming in.

The day seemed to drag by. It was relatively slow, only a few people coming in and out throughout the day. A few of your regulars sat in the cafe area, the soft sound of pens on paper and book pages turning became a gentle white noise that was starting to make your eyes heavy. You decided to get up to do something so you wouldn’t fall asleep.

You sighed heavily as you stacked another book on the shelf, rearranging the shop for the third time that month. You really did miss Cassian. The store seemed just a little too empty without him. He would always stop by to bring you lunch because he knows that you get so caught up in whatever task you were doing that day that you would forget otherwise. Sometimes he would just spend hours at the small high top table yapping away at whatever crossed his mind and you would have a smile on your face for the rest of the day. 

Eventually the last of the customers packed up, calling their goodbyes as they walked out of the door.  You sent your one cafe worker, Flora home for the day when they left. The sun was still high in the sky but you just wanted to be home. Cassian would be home later today and you wanted the time to clean up a little bit. Maybe make dinner after taking a nap. So you kept staking books, telling yourself you would leave once you emptied the cart next to the front counter. Too caught up to hear the front bell of the shop ring, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you heard someone clear their throat. You cursed softly to yourself, you must have forgotten to lock the door. 

“Sorry we’re closed-” You turned around and a squeal left your mouth as you took in just exactly who was standing in the shop. Of course it was Cassian. His smell quickly flooded your senses and you put down the heavy book in your hand to launch yourself at him. You arms wrapped around his neck at the same time his arms wound around your waist. You buried your face into his chest as he squeezed you tighter against him. 

“You weren’t supposed to get home until later. I would have closed up earlier if I had known.” You smiled up at him, basking in his presence.. 

“I wanted to get home to you, darling. Maybe even surprise you.” He leaned down to give you a teasing kiss. “Gods I missed you” He said once he pulled away from your lips. You wanted to pout at the loss of his plush lips against yours. Suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you haven't seen him in over a week. Your cheeks started to heat as you looked into his eyes, saw that he was clearly thinking the same thing. You were just about to tell him to take you home when he leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“I locked the front door.” His words only stoked the fire in your stomach. His gravelly voice telling you exactly what he meant. And at that moment, you wouldn’t have cared if he had. All thoughts eddied out of your head except for the feeling of your mates skin against yours. He gave a slow kiss to the spot below your ear and a shiver ran through you. His hands go up to play with the necklace sitting just above your shirt. 

“I want to see you in this.” He gave it a slight tug, pulling your chin up with it. “Only this.” You whimpered as he forced you to look him in the eye. Fidgeting under his heated stare. “But that can wait until later. For now…” He kissed down your neck, down the little bits of exposed skin along your collarbone and started to sink down to his knees. He looked up at you, silently asking for permission as his hands started to snake up your ankles, pulling your long skirt up along with it. All it took was your little nod before he slipped your skirt down your hips entirely. He buried his face into your lace underwear, a small cry falling from your lips. His fingers hooked over the edge of the lacy fabric and began to pull them teasingly slow down your legs. He didn’t hesitate to flatten his tongue and give your fold one long swipe.

Your hand rushed out to grab the bookshelf beside you, knocking some of the covers to the floor in a loud crash. The giggle that you let out quickly turned into a moan as Cassian’s nose bumped your clit. The free hand tangled itself in his pulled back hair, loosening some of the strand from the bun. His response was sinking his teeth into the flesh at your tight. Your fingers harshly yanking at long locks. He licked teasingly over the mark his mouth had left. 

“God I love these.” He muttered as he kneaded your plush thighs. He gave you a quick glance before he shoved his face back into your weeping cunt. Rough hands pulling your hips closer to his relentless mouth, arms nearly supporting all of your weight like it was nothing to him. The angle gave you a good look at the muscles in his back as they flexed as he moved his head, his wings pulled in tight to avoid the shelves of books. You bit your fingers to hold back the string of moans falling from your lips. His teeth scraped lightly over your clit and you were bucking away from his mouth. Suddenly too much but that didn’t stop him. He whimpered as he pulled your hips closer again. The soft grunts leaving his mouth and the way his tongue was licking into your hole had you barrling over the edge before you could even think to tell him. You screamed around your fingers, head falling back against the bookshelf you were now completely leaning against. Cassian is still licking you through your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered open and you nearly jumped when you felt a finger at your entrance. He was grinning up at you, chin shiny with your arousal. His gaze didn’t leave yours as he sunk two fingers in, palm resting perfectly on your clit. 

“Look at the way you suck my fingers in. So good for me.” He said into the skin of your thighs as he started to pump those fingers in and out of you. You squirmed against his fingers, hip twisting as he started to speed us his motions. He grabbed one of your legs and slung it over his shoulder, opening you up wider for him. Your hand was doing nothing to conceal the squeals and high pitched moans leaving your mouth. So you just let them fall freely. 

“Cassian…Fuck. Please” You babbled, not entirely sure what you were begging for. For more, for him to stop, for him to speed up. You had no clue but you knew that you were going to explode if he wasn’t inside of you right this minute. His fingers didn’t slow down for a second, the veins in his arm starting to pop out as he flexed at the speed. Despite your brain screaming otherwise, your hand reached down to his wrist. He stilled instantly. Eyes suddenly full of concern. 

You only pulled him up by the collar of his shirt, hands going to undo his belt. 

“Darling. Hold on-” His words died off with a small whine as your hand wrapped around his hardened length. 

“No. Cassian I’m going to die if you don’t fuck me right now.” Your voice was breathy and shaky. The need to have your mate inside you is too strong all of the sudden. 

“I could get you home in-”

“Please. Need you now.” You begged, moving your hand up and down, squeezing when you reached the base. His hips bucked and a small huff left his lips. 

“I wanted to make it special since it was your birthday but…fuck. I warned you, princess.” He said, head leaning against yours as he lightly brushed your hand away. He pushed his pants down to let his cock fully spring out. Despite being mated to him for so long, his cock always made you balk just a little. The length so thick your fingers just barely touched when you wrapped your hand around it. “Jump.” Was all he said as his hands went to cup the back of your thighs. You did so with a practiced ease. Your ankles wrapping around his back as he lined himself up with your dripping folds. You both hissed as his tip nudged into you. He didn’t wait for you to adjust, slamming all the way in. His pace was relentless. The pace of his thrusts caused the bookshelf to rattle against the wall. Your mouth parted into a perfect o shape. Cassian just squeezed your jaw, opening your mouth up further for him to place a claiming kiss on your lips. The kiss was just as messy as his strokes, his tongue licking into your mouth. You moaned as you tasted yourself on his lips. A perfect mixture of the two of you. You wrapped your legs around him tighter, using it as leverage to pull him into you. He growled into the kiss, teeth digging into your lower lip. Your back arched into his chest and his hand moved from your jaw to wrap around your ponytail. He yanked on the hair, tipping your head further back, effectively pinning you into place. 

“Cas. Cas please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum.” His teeth nip your earlobe right as his fingers come to rub tight circles on your clit. You are a goner. Your legs twitch against his back, his name pouring past your lips as he fucks your through your orgasm. His thrusts slow down, becoming languid strokes as he nears his own high. Your lips are all over him. Trailing exhausted kisses to his jaw, hands clutching at the fabric of his shirt that somehow managed to stay on during your actions. He stilled inside of you as you felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten before the warm rush of his cum filled you. His head dipped into the crook of your neck before you were whispering into his ear.

“Take me home right now.” And he didn’t need to be told twice. Before you could even process it, he had your skirt buttoned back at your waist. Underwear slid back up your legs. Not a single hair was out of place as he scooped you up in his arms and flew you back to your apartment. 

------

The door had barely closed behind before your lips attached to his. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt, pulling him down to you. You felt the door shudder behind you as he pushed your back against it. Both of your hands were everywhere. Clothes peeled off with no regard for where they ended up. 

“I never got to show you the best part of your present. Stay here.” He placed a kiss on your forehead before walking over to his bedside table and grabbing a small fabric pouch. He walked back over to you and slowly pulled out the contents of the bag. A long silver chain with a leather loop on the end. Your eyes widened as you placed two and two together. 

“Only if you want to. That’s why I wanted-”

“Yes.” You blurted out. A blush took over your face but he only smiled at you. 

“Then on your knees, darling.” He was suddenly towering over you and you loved every second of it. The carpet was soft under your knees and you sunk down. Your hands folded onto your thighs and your chin tilted up to look at him. He sucked in a heavy breath as your eyes met. A tender hand reached out to cup under your chin, tilting your chin further back and he crouched down to hook the chain into the large ring holding the piece of his siphon. You felt the added weight and goosebumps rose to your skin as he let the cold metal lay against your face. 

“How does it feel?” 

“Good.” Your mouth felt so heavy. 

“Safe sign?” 

“Two taps to slow down, three to stop.” You didn’t hesitate to answer, need rushing through you as he stood back up. His length right at your eye line. You felt saliva pool in your mouth. 

He gave the leash a gentle tug, pulling your head back ever so slightly. 

“Open.” You did immediately. But instead of his cock he leaned down again, hand squeezing your jaw open wider, and you felt his spit enter your mouth. You couldn’t even process the way it made your stomach clench before he was thrusting into your mouth. His spit makes his cock glide easily against your tongue. You kept your jaw lax, waiting for the command to close your lips around him. This was something you and Cassian had discussed a number of times. And it was even better than you imagined it could have been. 

“Suck sweetheart. Show me what that pretty mouth can do.” And you did. You wrapped your lips around his thick length. Reveling in the weight of it against your tongue. A moan built in the back of your throat and was choked off with a sharp tug of the leash. He slipped all the way to the back of your throat. Thanks to years of practice, you took him with ease. He released some of the tension on the chain and you slid back, only for him to repeat the action again and again. Your cheeks were on fire at this point. Tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. The wonderful fuzzy feeling in your head told you just how hard he was fucking your mouth. You didn’t want it to end. You could feel him twitching in your mouth and it was too much. The burn between your thighs is too much to ignore. One of your hands snuck its way between your thighs and you had just slipped a finger inside of your weeping hole before he tugged the leash back. You whined at the feeling of his cum against your fingers.

“Fuck. Do you like my cock in your mouth that much?” He gritted out. A long string of spit connecting from your lips to his glistening member. You didn’t take your eyes off of it as you nodded your head. Nor did you stop the motion of your fingers.

“Words.” He tugged the leash up to make you look at him.  

“Yes sir. I love it.” He shuddered at your words. As he took in your blown wide pupils, his cock twitched and you surged forward to wrap your lips around it again but he held tight onto the chain. 

“Get on the bed.” He ordered and you pulled your fingers out of yourself slowly, feeling your walls clench around nothing. He pulled you up to your feet, a calloused hand resting under your arm as he let you get your feet underneath you. He tugged you over to the bed and helped you climb onto the bed. You were about to flip onto your back but a strong arm wrapped around your waist stopped you. 

“Hands and knees.” He whispered into your ear. You felt a wave of slick coat your thighs as you arched your back for him. His hands rubbed up the back of your thighs, landing on your ass. You pushed back into his touch, savoring the warmth of his hands on your skin. He reached a hand between your legs and shoved a single finger into you. Your arms collapsed underneath you as he immediately found that spot inside of you. Your hips start to move on their own and you felt a tug on the leash, forcing you up onto your elbow again. You back arching even more as he held all your weight on that single chain. You panted as his fingers slowly stroked inside of you. 

“Are you ready for me, sweet girl?” 

“Yes. Please sir.” The words split off of your tongue and he was thrusting into you. The leash held you in place as he pounded into you. The sound of his hips hitting your ass filled the room. You could feel the way your thighs recoiled against the torturous pace. You were held in place, hips unable to push back, head held in the air. You reached a hand back, needing to feel your mate to ground you. He quickly intertwined your fingers, holding your hand. The gentleness of the action is a vast contrast to the way his trust speeds up. You were jolted forward with each frenzied push of his hips. You could feel every inch of him pushing your walls apart. You writhed under him, muscles shaking as you fought to keep yourself up. You gave a particularly hard jerk and you felt the tension on the leash drop and your face was against the pillow. You heard the sound of the chain hitting the bed under you and Cassian wrapped both of his hands around your thighs. He used the new position to pull you against him in time with his thrusts. Loud mewls being pulled from your lips. You were completely drunk on the feeling of him inside of you as you felt that knot build in you. It felt different from earlier. You struggled to get out the words to let Cassian know, but he always knew. He knew your body better than you at this point. He glided a hand over your stomach, pressing down on the soft flesh right above where he was inside you. The pressure had you screaming his name as your vision went white. You felt your release drip down your thighs, felt the way in leaked down around him. Cassian cursed before he whined above you. 

“Look at you darling. You squirted for me.” His thrusts did not falter in the slightest. The lewd sounds of your wetness filled the room as you hummed against the pillow. Utterly fucked out. His pace stuttered once, twice and then a carnal growl left his lips as his hips stilled. You felt him empty himself inside of you. Staying fully sheathed inside of you as shudders wracked through his body. His hands were everywhere then. Rubbing all over your back, over your legs. He eventually pulled out of you and pulled you against his chest. 

Quick kisses were peppered all over your face as his hand went to detach the leash from your necklace. You gave your neck a quick roll as the added weight was removed. His hands instantly come up to rub any added tension. He stepped out of the room long enough to grab a wet wash cloth and gently clean between your legs. Giving you a small kiss when you jumped from the additional stimulation. He threw the washcloth somewhere in the room before he pulled you into his arms again.

He laid you down on the bed, placing you on his chest. His hands are still rubbing small circles all over your skin. The perfect amount of pressure to bring you back down to earth. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against his chest. He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Happy birthday, darling.” was the last thing you heard before his gentle breathing lulled you to sleep.

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[hypertechnica]

i’m going to make fiddauthor art with fidds wearing his wedding ring and you are NOT going to like it

big obligatory banner that says “cheating is bad don’t do it i just like stories with relationship drama”

closeted, internally homophobic gay men who are married with kids has to be the trope i’m weakest to. no person involved is escaping the despair brought on by a relationship built on a well intentioned, desperate lie, born out of a desire to be normal and good

he WANTED to love her so fucking badly. he felt no ill will towards her and he loves their son more than words can say. he thought the attraction, the way she felt about him, would come with time. it didn’t. he doesn’t want to hurt her yet was doomed to from the start, and he’s truly, truly sorry. this does not absolve him of anything whatsoever and she has the full right to never want to speak with him again. he lied! he pretended to feel the same when he never once felt anything but platonic affection! he’s been in love with someone else this whole fucking time! and their kid… he’s caught in the middle of it all, too young to understand why his father would hurt his family like this.

and then he disappears and never comes back. imagine you’re 5 and your dad goes to the middle of the woods with his buddy for science shit, all of the sudden your parents are yelling on the phone and signing papers, and then he goes MIA. for years.

imagine your husbands “buddy” was the one he was thinking of all this time, not you, never you. and the first chance he gets to run away from you, he takes, and you should have been suspicious by the rushed frenzy of it all, the phone calls getting shorter and shorter until it fizzles to nothing. he forgot to get you a christmas gift. he hand-made him two. there has to be something wrong with you, it has to be your fault. you wish you married the man he becomes when he’s in his presence.

he folded when you started questioning him directly - he’d been to neurotic to ever be a good liar. you thought he was the one. he thought you were nice.

by the time the divorce is finalized he’s different in a wrong way. confused, angry, forgetful, insane - if the giant homicidal robot pterodactyl you’ve been harassed by is any indication. (he’s had a bad habit of building homicidal robots when he’s mad since they met -engineer things- but it was never directed at her - thankfully it never actually does anything) he’s clearly abusing drugs - you’d feel bad if he hadn’t abandoned you with the burden of explaining why your son can’t see his father anymore.

it’s a rotten bit of your soul, but time heals you. you move on and no longer think of him. trust in your career. find a man who truly loves you with no motives attached. raise your kid to be a good man. and in a fashion not unlike shakespearean dramatic irony, this makes him move to gravity falls to find and take care of his father. you couldn’t care less what hee doing now, but damn it, it’s his father, what is the kid supposed to do? but its futile- he appears to have no remorse, hell, no memory of the incident in the first place. (this isn’t his fault but how are they supposed to know that?) so he grows bitter and cold just like his mother used to be.

imagine that.

all over a mans inability to do anything but live in denial. to force himself to live in a box and pine like a dying man over the right one at the wrong time, destined to crash and burn. to take denial to a new level- a cult, brain damaging radiation, a total ego death - just to take the edge off. take off that damn wedding ring

[starrystevie]

it was all supposed to be a joke. they were supposed to be in steve’s backyard with all their friends and family in shitty lawn chairs, holding cans of budweiser and jamming to whatever song eddie was in the mood for that day blasting through the speakers. steve was supposed to be in front of them all in a tuxedo t-shirt and powder blue dress pants, flowers in his hair that had been teased to high heaven and dark black sunglasses to keep out the bright sun. that’s how they had planned it all those years ago when they’d been high and drunk and young and in love.

but somehow instead, the yard is full of flowers and benches that hopper and wayne put together with spare wood for everyone to sit on and there’s an archway at the end of the aisle and soft acoustic songs spilling gently out of the speakers. steve’s still at the front, that was always supposed to happen, but this time he’s wearing an actual tux, light cream with a boutonnière and everything, and his hair is pushed back just so. there’s no flowers in his hair and no sunglasses but it’s cloudy enough of a day where he doesn’t really need them anyway.

they weren't even supposed to do this. there wasn't supposed to be a grand entrance and a walk down the aisle, no flower girls or ring bearers or anything remotely traditional. but what started off as, "well, i wouldn't mind walking down the aisle," and "i think exchanging rings would be cool," and "who cares if it isn't legal, i'm going to marry you anyway damnit," turned into this beautiful day of friends and family and love.

robin’s standing beside him in a tux of her own, pinstripe grey donning a pocket boutonnière that matches nancy’s bouquet, with a few notecards in her hands. and speaking of nancy, she’s heading down the aisle in a flowing dress, and when her eyes catch robin’s, she crinkles her nose before blowing her a kiss. she stands opposite of steve as eddie's not-quite-bridesmaid and grips her bouquet tightly, her eyes never leaving robin's.

and then there's dustin. he's in a tux that matches steve's and he has his curls pushed back with probably too much gel and a tie that suzie got him for their 3rd anniversary. the best thing he's sporting, though, is the smile on his face and the ring box in his hand and the joy in his eyes as he looks out at the crowd. having him there as best man and smelling the cheap cologne he wears so he seems more grown up calms steve's ever beating heart enough to where he doesn't think he'll throw up from nerves anymore.

all of their loved ones are surrounding them in clothes steve’s never seen before but he couldn’t care at all what they’re wearing because they’re all smiling wide and bright at him. he catches himself rocking back and forth on his feet so he shakes out his hands and holds them behind his back to distract himself. his stomach is rolling with waves or butterflies and when he catches joyce's eye in the front row, she mimes taking in a deep breath which he instantly copies. the soft grin she sends in return tells him that he thinks it could actually work to settle him. mothers have that healing way about them.

he’s never been good with weddings, always fidgeting in a too tight suit his mom picked out, but he never thought he’d be this antsy at his own.

steve's just about to give up and sprint down the aisle to get eddie so they can run away together and leave nerves and or butterflies behind him, but then the music stops. he sees lucas changing out the tapes quickly, giving a thumbs up to mike who throws one to will who runs back behind the shed to where he knows eddie is waiting and when will pops his head back out to run back to his seat, it hits him.

he's getting married.

steve doesn't have time to think about it anymore than he already has been for the last 8 years because eddie's coming around the corner of the shed.

'here comes the sun' is playing out over the speakers, soft and perfect, and eddie's smiling, wide and beautiful, and steve can't help but mirror it back to him. the clouds overhead seem to hear them, hear the song and hear their hearts beating in time with each other, because as soon as eddie gets to the aisle, bright warm rays of sunlight peak out and make the rhinestones he demanded line the lapels of his own black tux shine like real diamonds.

steve stops breathing. he swears he does, and he knows his family are all feeling the same way. he can hear a few gasps, hears joyce muttering what she thinks is a silent, "oh my god," in hop's ear, and watches how wayne stands up just a bit straighter from his front row seat.

eddie glides down the aisle like the drama king he is, soaking in the looks from everyone they care about and soaking in the sun that seems to come out only for him. it's like the sun knows he's a star, too, and wants to come out to be with one of it's own. eddie's always been sunshine and starlight and a blinding thing to look at and take in. he's the light, steve's the moth, and a few clouds on their wedding day could never change it.

"well, that was insanely good timing," eddie whispers to steve once he reaches him. his grin softens and he brings up a hand to wipe gently at the tear tracks on steve's cheeks. "hi, baby."

and steve can do nothing but choke out a laugh, catching eddie's hand in his own so he press a kiss to his palm. he thinks he can feel eddie's heartbeat against his lips and, even if it's his brain playing tricks on him, he likes the sentiment that it brings. "i love you so fucking much."

it's eddie's turn to get teary-eyed and the sun glints off the tears that fall down his cheek before heading back behind the clouds, dotting quick-to-fade sparkles on his face like a wedding present.

steve kisses him. he can't help it. it's nothing but a fast press of lips, watery smile to watery smile, and everyone is cheering except for robin.

"hey! it's not time for that yet," she says with a pretend scowl, arms pressing to each of their chests to keep them apart. it's enough to leave nancy giggling where she stands behind eddie, her laugh like bells bouncing off of the trees surrounding them. "just give me like ten minutes and we'll have you married and you can kiss all you want then."

steve swears he can hear mike groan at that which cause him to grin which cause eddie to grin back and then they're holding hands like it's the only way to get through the next ten minutes. and it might just be the only way to get through it. knowing them, if they didn't hold on tight, one of them would make a move first and there'd be hands around waists and fingers tangled in hair and robin would hate them forever because she wouldn't get to do her speech.

it's after vows are shared, after rings are on fingers, after kisses are pressed to lips and cheeks and temples and hands and everything else they can quickly reach, that the two of them get some peace. everyone is inside eating snacks and drinking cheap champagne, and it goes unspoken that they're going to take some time for themselves. take some time to bask in their new maybe not-so-legally real but as real as could ever be in their hearts marriage.

they make their way, hand in hand like they've always been meant to do, to a table set up for them. eddie pops a bottle of champagne that they pass back and forth between themselves as they share cheesy smiles and champagne-laced kisses. and it's as they look into each other's eyes, fingers lacing so their rings clink softly against each other, that the sun peaks out to say hello once more.