I'M SO SOFT RIGHT NOW.

I'M SO SOFT RIGHT NOW.

How You’d Like It

You think your boyfriend is going to propose when he tells you to dress for a fancy dinner. But he has other plans.

Lucas x MC

Your boyfriend had told you to be dressed up in your absolute best this Saturday.

You were used to his fancy tendencies, since you met him you knew how he was. Lucas was posh, grew up in a wealthy military family, while you grew up in the working class. You’d worked hard for the nice things you’d gotten yourself- not that he didn’t. You knew he took his job seriously.

But even after three years you weren’t used to the surprise dinners at fancy restaurants that you never would have tried if you weren’t with someone used to that world. If it had been another dinner with his parents, he would’ve told you. They never saw eye to eye on your relationship, also thinly veiling to the fact that they thought you were a gold digger, and he was always very quick to shit that down. No matter how much he tried, you would never take a dime from him. Even now that you lived together, you set half the bills up to autopay from your account so that he couldn’t keep you from paying your share.

So this dinner was different. You could tell. Usually he told you the morning of where dinner would be on that particular day, so you still had all day to get ready. But this time he told you nearly a week ahead of time to dress up nice, scheduled you to get your hair and nails done- if you wanted. He never asked you to adjust your comfortability for him, and he offered to pay for it if you wanted to do it- along with a new dress. But it all let you know that this dinner was special.

That led you to one conclusion that you really didn’t want to be true.

He wanted to propose.

You were more than happy to marry him, you love him, but…

A big show and fancy dinner was your boyfriend’s style.

It wasn’t yours.

Your friends often referred to you as the life of the party, but you never strived to be the center of attention- no matter how often you found yourself there. So you didn’t want to feel like you were being pressured to say yes, even though you already would, just because the proposal would undoubtedly draw as many eyes to you as possible.

When he tucked your hand into his arm, leading you into the restaurant, the butterflies and nerves in your stomach had multiplied instead of dying down. The aura was cozy, romantic and warm, and it was the perfect setting for the storybook proposal. The hostess led the two of you to a small table, he pulled your chair out as he always did, and you gazed intently at the menu in hopes of distracting your racing mind.

But as the appetizers came and went, along with the main course and then dessert, the question you expected never came.

Which led you down a rabbit hole in your mind. His birthday was last month. Your anniversary was the week before. Your own birthday wasn’t for another couple months. What were you missing that made tonight so special?

You could see the glint in his eye, knew that he was aware you were trying to figure it out, but he obviously wasn’t going to tell you. He paid the check before you could even start to protest, taking you by the hand and leading you out the front doors to your car- the proper gear hadn’t been an option to take his bike tonight. He opened the passenger door for you, before closing it and jogging around the drivers seat. He pulled a duffel bag from the bag you hadn’t seen, setting it into your lap as he pulled out of the lot and down the road. You moved to open it, but he caught your hand.

“Not yet, love.” He grinned at the road, the glint back in his eye as you huffed and let him take hold of your hand.

He pulled into an old apartment building’s parking lot, and it didn’t take long to realize it had been where you lived when you met him. Brows furrowed as he parked, hopping out to open your door- something he refused to let you do. Sometimes he would lock you in until he could get around if you tried to get out on your own.

He took the bag from you before grabbing your hand, pulling out a key and letting the two of you in to start the walk up the four floors to your old flat. You followed his pull on your hand in silence, mind racing with why you were back here.

He opened the door, revealing the same small home you used to know, bare of almost all furniture except for a TV set up in front of a couch that looks just like the one you agreed to get rid of when you moved in together. Actually, walking up to it showed the same stains- this was the same couch you used to own. Lucas didn’t even blink as he sat on it, ignoring your curious gaze as he dug into the duffel he’d brought, handing you a pair of your sweatpants and your favorite of his hoodies with your make up remover wipes. He nodded his head down toward the bathroom, and you curiously followed the silent command.

A few minutes later, you arrived back in the room to see him dressed the same way, your favorite movie beginning to play on the tv. You carefully perched beside him, questioning look on your face, but he just kept smiling at you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. “Lucas, babe, what the hell are we doing here?”

His smile didn’t fade, “Watching a movie.”

“You know damn well-“ he cut you off, pulling you into his side to cuddle as he shushed you.

“Just watch the movie. It’ll make sense after.” He pulled a bowl of popcorn from the seat next to him, and you were entirely unsure of where he got it.

It decidedly did not make sense after. It was close to eleven at night when the movie ended, and Lucas still hadn’t explained why you were here. You were trying to be patient, there had to be a reason, but you were tired and wanted to go to bed. “Babe?” You called as the credits rolled, “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

Lucas hummed, “You remember when you lived here?” He glanced around, nostalgic smile on his face.

Your brow furrowed, “Of course I do. I also remember colliding with you as you jogged past the front door and spilling my coffee down my shirt.”

He laughed, “Yeah, but then you let me take you to buy a new one and I’ve never looked back since.” He took hold of your hand, turning to face you with an incredibly serious look in his eye, “I’ve never regretted any of my choices in life. But, ironically, that day I hadn’t wanted to go on my run. I spent the entire time I was running regretting not staying at home. And then I ran into you. Just like that any regrets I had vanished into the void, never to be thought of again.”

“Baby,” You sniffled through a smile, “What’s brought this on?”

Lucas beamed at you, melting your heart as he slipped off the couch onto one knee, “I wanted to take you back to where we started. Show you how far we’ve come when I ask you to go further with me. Y/N, you have always been too good for me. I grew up getting what I wanted, but never staying in one place for too long. But you- god, you were so hard to figure out. You didn’t care that I was attractive or that I had money. You didn’t care what tricks I used to get you to agree to a second date. You made me earn it, and that’s how I knew you were worth keeping- worth holding onto. Not keeping. You are not an object to be kept, but a person to be loved, and I love you more than you could ever know.” He let go of your hands, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a ring. Not something flashy like you’d expect from his tastes. Something understated and beautiful, something you’d have picked out yourself. “Y/N, please. Will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Koh?”

Tears were streaming down your cheeks, and you were thankful he’d asked you to remove your make up otherwise you’d have rivers of mascara as you nodded through a gentle sob, “Yes, Lucas. I would love to become Mrs. Koh.” He kissed you, strong and sure, before slipping the ring onto your finger. You wrapped your arms around his neck, just holding tight, “I thought- you made such a big deal about the restaurant-“

“Love,” he laughed, hand stroking your back, “You would have hated that. All that attention? I knew- even Chelsea got on my ass about it- that you’d prefer it to be private at home.”

“How’d you even get us in here? Or get this couch back?”

Lucas looked sheepish, “The couch I’ve had right here since we moved. This has always been my plan. My parents bought out the building years ago, it’s why I used to jog past it- so I just made sure that it would be vacant for this.” Your brow furrowed and he quickly amended, “By not letting them rent it out. I didn’t evict anyone for it.”

You smiled softly as you processed everything, “We’ve been living together for nearly two years. You’ve kept this gross old couch in this place that long? You planned this so long ago?”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, “Been planning this since the moment I spilled your coffee.”

Masterlist

I forgot to add my questions on 😂😂😂😂 so HAPPY FANFIC WRITER APPRECIATION DAY AGAIN!!!!!

✨ Choose three adjectives to complement your own writing

😐 What embarrasses you most about your own writing?

Oooooohhhhh 😆😆😆

✨ Lyrical, sexy, and well-researched (because what's sexier than research?)

😐 My complete inability to understand how commas work. I just toss them around like confetti and hope for the best.

Thank you for the asks!

Thank you for all the effort you put into it! It's truly lovely and had me smiling all day.

I was not "white passing" as a kid (I had lovely brownish skin) but because I've spent most of my adulthood indoors in front of a computer, I'm a lot lighter than I was back then and most white people assume I'm white, despite my hair telling a different story 😄So it's weird. I've been both. But I definitely ache to see myself and other WOC represented.

When I started writing fanfic, my approach was that I only wanted to write brown/black heroines. I didn't see myself repped in my fandom, and there was a lot of icky attitudes about race within it. At the time, nearly every fic heroine was white, and there were a lot of white fans gushing over having "exotic" mixed-race babies with black or mixed male characters. It was pretty gross and dehumanizing. Reminded me of that episode of Ab Fab where Eddie went crazy to find out her grandbaby was gonna be mixed race. "A mixed-race baby is the finest accessory anyone in my position could ever have, sweetheart! Oh, my God, it's the must-have of the season! It's the CHANEL of babies!" So I only write black or brown original characters for the fandom. Complicated women with real problems and lives. Some nice, some not so nice. But all as three-dimensional as I can write them. And I've been blown away by the amount of readers who commented on it and how happy it made them to be seen. It turned out, there are plenty of people of color in the fandom who'd been feeling like they didn't belong. One of my greatest joys is showing them that they DO belong. And showing them reminds me that I do as well.

✨🧚‍♀️ Women as fairies 🧚‍♀️✨

Okay, I *could* complain about the awful new artwork OR I could point out how freakin' tall Bobby is here. I WAS RIGHT. HE IS NOT SHORT. There's nothing wrong with being short (I'm short) but he definitely was never a short king. I feel vindicated.

Returning Islander!!

so i found something very exciting in the files aka a beloved returning islander, look under the cut to see him!

Keep reading

Word that means walking with purpose, but not in an angry way.

Thing I google at least once with every single story.

you guys think writers are good with words, but our entire search histories are just “what’s the word for trying to make someone believe something” and “synonym for ___”

Keep your head on a swivel. We're everywhere.

Fact: Today (September 23rd) is bisexuality awareness day. Be aware of bisexuals. They are dangerous.