Boarding begins soon. Flight is non-refundable.

A pocket boarding pass to a single, non-refundable destination. The runway is the rest of your life.

Drag your finger across to reveal the date.

A holographic scratch card. The harder they peel the foil, the more of the date appears beneath, in three colors of light.

Tap and hold to paint the date in the sky.

A handheld firework. Tap and hold to charge, release to paint the date in sky-bright bloom over a velvet night.

Draw the bouquet. Watch it spell the date.

A midnight garden, drawn by their finger. The bouquet they trace blooms into the date, then leaves a moonlit secret behind.

Answer the call. Don't make us ring your mom.

An incoming call from the two of you. Answer it, and your wedding announces itself the way the best news always does.

Connect the stars to draw our shape.

A celestial map. Drag from star to star to draw the constellation that spells the night you said yes.

A letter that writes itself — ding included.

A letter that writes itself, key by key, with a real ribbon ding at the end. Drag the page out of the carriage to seal the moment.

Spin the dial. Crack the date.

A bank vault with one secret worth keeping. Spin the combination dial, feel the clicks, and swing the door open on the date.

Pull the lever. Hit the jackpot.

A midnight slot machine that only knows one outcome. Pull the lever and watch three reels land, clunk by clunk, on the day you can't lose.

Tune through the static to find us.

An old walnut radio, humming with static. Drag the needle until the noise clears — one frequency is broadcasting your wedding, on air tonight.

Snap it shut. Throw away the key.

A brass padlock on a bridge at dusk. Press the shackle shut, watch the date engrave itself in sparks, then flick the key into the river.

The daisy already knows the answer.

Pluck the daisy's petals one by one, whispering the old question. The last petal always says loves me — and blooms into the date.

Flick a coin. Watch the wish come true.

A stone well in the twilight, fireflies overhead. Flick a coin over the lip, hear the splash — and the water glows back with the date.

Press and hold. Melt your way to the date.

A ring frozen inside a block of ice. Hold your thumb against it and melt through — drip by drip, crack by crack — until the date shatters free.

Wind the crank. Let it play.

An heirloom music box with a brass crank. Wind it up and the lid lifts: a tune plinks, paper silhouettes spin, and the date is painted in the lid.

Tap it. Harder. There you go.

A paper piñata that won't go down without a fight. Whack it until it cracks, then burst it open — confetti, candy, and a banner with the date.

Crack it open. Pull your fortune.

One cookie, one fortune. Crack it in two, pull the paper slip out, and read what was always going to happen — lucky numbers included.