#and I checked everyone else is doing other shit

[feelbokkie]

L♡VE IN F♡CUS | Chapter 10

PAIRING: idol!Changbin x fem reader

WARNINGS: mention of food and eating

GENRE: smau, crack, angst, fluff

P♡V: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

SUMMARY: Amateur concert photographer Y/n has recently been promoted to junior music journalist. Her first assignment? An exposé on the popular Kpop boy group, Stray Kids. Spending an entire tour doing in depth interviews with eight men seems simple enough, but one member isn't exactly open to the idea. Will Y/n be able to break down the walls around his heart, or will her big break turn into a big disaster?

TAGLIST: closed

W♡RD C♡UNT: 1,912

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©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

“Noona, is your camera water resistant?”

You look up from your spot on the floor to find Seungmin hovering over you with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His hair has gotten longer over the past couple of months. Strands of his hair are thrown in all different directions, you can't tell if he just finished getting it styled or if he just got done roughhousing with Changbin. You've grown accustomed to his screaming so even if it was the latter, you didn't notice. His face is bare and slightly damp from having just finished shaving. He tilts his head to the side, waiting for your answer with big eyes and an open smile.

“Seungmin, if you splash me with water, I will buy a water gun at one of the next stops and ruin your day.” You sigh as you carefully set your camera on the floor.

“Is that a promise?” Somehow, his smile gets wider. You can almost imagine a tail wagging excitedly behind him.

Shit.

"Seungmin! It's your turn to get your hair done!" One of their hair stylists calls from the other side of the room.

"Coming!" Seungmin calls back sweetly. Seungmin turns back to you and winks before happily skipping off to get his hair done.

After being teased by Seungmin the entire time the two of you explored Osaka for his one-on-one time with you, you're almost certain that you've become his new favorite target. You’re not even sure why, your reactions aren’t even that great. But still, he does a silly little prank like making you turn your head so he can poke your cheek or asks if he can take a picture of you with your phone only to take several selfies instead and die laughing.

You can’t help but let out a small laugh as you pick up your camera again. While the group is busy getting ready for the show, you’re sitting in the corner by an outlet charging your batteries, double-checking the SD cards, and cleaning all of your lenses. You really only need one battery and SD card but you want to be prepared in case you need to switch them in the middle of the show.

You turn to your side when you notice someone coming up and sitting close to you. You can't help the small smile that creeps up on your face when you realize that it's Jeongin. He doesn't say anything, instead, he brings his knees to his chest, rests his head on them, and pulls out his phone. You look around the room and confirm your suspicions when you see Felix, Jisung, and Minho in front of the talker camera. He knows that if he sits close enough to a staff member, whoever is filming will leave him alone. And since you’re not planning on moving anytime soon, he’s safest next to you.

“Noona, can you take a picture of my hair for me? I can reach the back and everyone else is busy.” Hyunjin comes up to you, holding his phone in his hands.

Hyunjin’s hair doesn’t look any different from how it looked earlier. It's still black and mostly straight, framing his face perfectly. Still, you know he was sitting in the hair stylist’s chair longer than he normally does so something must’ve changed and you can’t see it.

“Sure, but can you sit? I’ve been down here for too long, I think I’m stuck like this,” You try straightening out your legs but the pain that shoots out from them stops you.

Hyunjin nods happily before handing you his phone and kneeling with his back facing you. You fix the settings of the phone camera so you can take the best possible picture for him. When you look up, ready to take the picture, Hyunjin has put his hair in a little bun. The bun reveals that he buzzed off the underside of his head again. In the bottom corner, he has a small heart and the word 'Stay' shaved into it.

"Oh, you did an undercut again?" You ask softly so as to also not disturb Jeongin's peace and quiet.

"Yeah, I've been getting hot and my hair is too long." He turns around with a bright smile. You quickly snap a picture of him before motioning him to turn back around. "I might leave my hair down for now and reveal it during 'So Good.'"

Click.

"Let someone on the camera crew know so they can be sure to zoom in on the 'Love Stay.'" You take a few pictures of his hair, some from different angles, before tapping him on the shoulder and handing back his phone. "Can you send those to me? I might be able to use them."

Hyunjin smiles and nods vigorously as he checks the pictures on his phone. Instead of getting up, he sits facing you, still on his phone. After a few moments, you feel your phone go off in your pocket.

"Take a picture of my hair too!" Felix yells, running over with his phone.

"Ah, Yongbokkie, that's too loud." Hyunjin laughs as he scoots over so Felix can sit in front of you.

"Sorry," Felix says sheepishly. He starts patting his pockets before freezing. "Ah, I don't have my phone."

"Here," Hyunjin hands you his phone again so you can take pictures of Felix's hair for him.

Felix has been documenting all of his hairstyles from the tour so far. You could probably fill up an entire magazine of all of his hairstyles alone. Today, his hair is not much different from other looks but still a bit different. His hair has recently been bleached again, only to touch up the roots. Both of you have talked about him going back to a darker hair color after the first half of the tour to give his hair a break from all of the bleach. But for now, as long as his hair and scalp allows it, he's sticking with the blond.

"Do you like my hair, noona?" Felix asks after settling down low enough so you can see better.

His hair, except for a few strands, is pulled back into two star-shaped buns in the back of his head in a sort of half-up style. It's similar to the bow style you remember seeing pictures of circulating online earlier in the year. Felix moves and you see something in his hair catching in the light, shining brightly. The more that you look at it, you can see that his stylist added some silver tinsel into his hair.

"It's cute, Felix. Might be one of my favorite styles yet." You take a few pictures with flash so that the tinsel shines.

"Thank you," Felix beams as if he did his hair himself, turning around once the flashes stop and taking the phone back from you. He quietly hands the phone back to Hyunjin, not even checking the pictures. "I asked if they could do five stars in my hair but they were having trouble so we just did two. They said we can try 5 next time after they practice a bit more."

"Since they could make two stars with your hair, they might be able to try two flowers. Maybe even color it with hair chalk?" You suggest. Felix asks for hairstyle recommendations almost every time he sees you.

A few times he's convinced you to ask a stranger if you could take a picture of their hair while you're out with him and the kids so he could have a reference to show his stylists. It's one of the stranger things you've bonded over with someone, but sometimes it leads to strange texts from Felix of random pictures he's found online. And it's all because you mentioned how much you liked the bow bun he had.

"If they do that, do you think we can go out and find some flowers for me to take pictures with? Or like, a flower field? I'll even do a flower pose and you can use it for the magazine." Felix's eyes light up with excitement. He's speaking so fast that you almost don't understand him as he stumbles over his words.

Making 9 different versions of basically the same magazine has been hard so you welcome any sort of suggestions from them. And they enjoy the creative freedom. Seungmin suggested a whole coffee shop spread where he reviews coffees from each city you're in. Part of you think it's an excuse for him to drink coffee. Jeongin also tends to ask you to take an outfit of the day picture so he has a little fashion spread going. Whenever they go out to eat, Minho has been trying different foods and sending you pictures, the names of the foods, and ratings. At this point, you're going to have to put their names on the credits page under creative directors.

"Dinner time!" Chan sings as he walks into the room with a few staff members in tow. Chan, carrying two full bags, heads to the center of the room where there's a couch and small table. The other four staff members head to a table off to the side.

"C'mon, let's go," Hyunjin whispers softly to everyone.

Hyunjin, Felix, and Jeongin get up and follow you over to Chan so they can get their food. Soon after Minho and Jisung join them. You watch as the staff members who aren't preoccupied with something go over to the table off on the side to get their food.

You pack your cleaning equipment up and set it off to the side. You swap the battery in the charger with the one currently in the camera. Just as you're about to get up, Changbin is standing in front of you with both of his hands stretched out in front of him, waiting. You quietly chuckle to yourself as you take his hands and slightly pull yourself up as he tugs.

It's weird having Changbin willingly interact with you after months of him avoiding you like the plague. He's still cautious around you, hardly talking about anything outside of interview questions. At least, nothing that truly matters. But he is talking to you. He's even tagged along a few times when one or some of the members kidnaps you for a few hours.

"Thank you," You smile as you adjust your clothes. You lean back against the wall for a bit for support as the blood flows back into your legs.

Changbin nods as a response before turning and walking towards the other members. He pauses for a moment, turning back to you. His freshly straightened dyed black hair falls slightly over his eyes as he tilts his head. "Eat well,"

"You too, Changbin," You reply with a smile on your face.

You almost miss the small, satisfied smile that appears on his face before he nods and walks to join the other members for dinner. It was only there for a moment. So quick that you're certain that it's the first genuine smile he's given you that wasn't for the camera. You're not even sure he was aware of the fact that he did it. It was more like a reflexive twitch than an intentional action.

Note to self: try to get Changbin to smile like that more for pictures.

You kick yourself off the wall and head back to join the other staff members for dinner.

Buy me a coffee?

—

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[redux-iterum]

So I’m curious about Goldenflower’s reaction! We’ve seen how aggressively she reacts when kits or young cats are put in danger (ie. Fireheart being left out alone). So I was surprised she allowed the ceremony to proceed. Is Bluestar’s failing mental health the reason why she didn’t react more strongly and shut that shit with Aspen/Ash/Cloud down? Also where do the clans draw the line in regards to someone like Bluestar when they’re not stable enough to really be held accountable, but they are putting other clanmates in danger through their actions?

There's a couple things going into this, so bear with me.

This whole situation is extremely difficult for everyone in a position of power, let alone the average warrior. Ideally - that is, how the Clans imagine stuff like this to go in stories - the leader can be disobeyed and disregarded by their followers, no questions asked, the instant they fuck up or do something dangerous. The matriarch has all the power over kits, the deputy can step in as the proper head of the Clan, the elders will be looked to and the seers have all of StarClan to give out judgements and commands. This is a sort of checks-and-balances type of society! It's going to be so easy to handle if it ever does happen!

Realistically, though, Clans are hardwired to obey their leaders above everyone else. It's why Brokenstar got away with everything for so long, it's why Tigerclaw would have been so much more dangerous if he'd gotten there, and it's what's allowing Bluestar to keep her position even though her mind is visibly failing. Leaders aren't untouchable, theoretically, but it is so very hard for a Clan to look at the cat who's so important to their society that they have an entirely unique suffix just to denote their rank and tell themselves "I refuse to honor them and do as they say", even if they have a good reason, or several. Even at this point, ThunderClan will obey their leader over their matriarch, and the matriarch will be forced to go along with this, not knowing what else can be legally done.

To disobey says so much about the warrior and the Clan as a whole: they made a mistake placing such massive responsibilities on this cat's shoulders, they have nowhere to put the demoted cat that will go smoothly, they're threatening the unity and structure of the Clan by shaking the very foundation of what they've grown up and lived with. It's so hard for a cat, let alone a warrior, to adjust to severe changes like that, especially ones that imply something at fault within themselves - which, inherently, following a bad leader for any length of time will shine a light on. Sometimes it's easier to keep silent - or, at the most, mutter complaints to your friend while doing nothing.

There's another aspect of this botched apprentice ceremony: the apprentices themselves. Changing from a kit to an apprentice is such an important, valuable, special thing for everyone; it's the biggest change in your life so far and it marks you as ready to serve your Clan and grow up to be someone great. To go through with the ceremony and then rip away that gift from cats so young and new to the world is a particularly cruel sort of disappointment, bordering on punishment in the eyes of that kit. Can you imagine being a grade schooler, about to enter middle school, and then being told you have to go back to kindergarten because someone else fucked up your paperwork? How awful would that be?

Speckletail made about as good of a call as she could in that moment, taking the apprentices' ages, their mentors and the Clans' culture into account. Let them be apprentices until they prove they're not ready, and if they aren't, they can go back to being a kit. This sort of solves the problem in a way - the apprentices will be eager to prove they can keep their -paw's and will work hard to do so, and if they fall behind...well, maybe they can just stay in camp for another month and then come right back to training with some experience already! It's not ideal, but it's the best Speckletail could do.

As for the final question... did you know that it was believed that planting an elder tree by your door would keep the devil away?

[eir-trixa]

Okay I have one final thought about wottg. I think I forgot one crucial factor about these books: Its in Percy’s pov. Percy is an incredibly unreliable narrator when it comes to himself.

I think were experiencing a whiplash because last we saw of him was from different perspectives in HoO.

Alright, more under the cut. Might have spoilers for WOTTG ❗️

Okay first of all, this is not a retraction of my earlier critiques. I stand by all of them. Just check my prev post(s) about it, I wrote a lot because I was frustrated a lot by the dumb!Percy perception. Anyway. This is me, trying to find a possible reason why Im so pissed.

The difference between HoO and the new books is visible, largely because of the change of POV. Were back in Percy’s pov and yes, Rick probably forgot how to write him without including his girlfriend after every other thought. But also, were back to oblivious!Percy’s narration.

Like I said Percy’s incredibly perceptive and empathic to every other people and beings that is not himself. This guy still does not get why Annabeth likes him, he thinks everyone thinks he’s dumb, it takes a while for him to notice if someone is interested in him, he doesnt think he’s powerful at all, he thinks he’s a loser in all fronts, hell he thinks he deserves to die sometimes. Thats just how he is, he’s self deprecating even in the og PJO.

Which is a stark, stARK contrast to EVERYONE ELSE’S perspective of him in Heroes of Olympus:

Exhibit A: His entrance in Camp Jupiter wherein Hazel actually thought he’s a god in disguise. Then he created whirlpools that destroyed the gorgons and terrified the everloving shit from the Romans. Then he just proceeds to be this regular, lost, anguished guy in his own perspective while Hazel and Frank are literally so moved and an awe of him. Reyna and Kinzie both found him attractive at some point. He made PRAETOR in a week, most of it he wasnt even at CJ. Thats highly indicative of how people see him.

Exhibit B: Annabeth’s description of seeing him again in MoA. Im gonna get back to this later but do recall that he became taller and had put on muscle according to Annabeth herself. Strange of Rick to contradict himself SIKE

Piper called him unimpressive, which is interestingly the only instance he got called that but then again Piper was also under Hera’s heavy enchantments to have feelings for Jason so Im not gonna blame her at all.

We have more Im sure but were gonna stop there lest I never get to the point. So we basically see Percy in all other angles in HoO, and everyone respected him Until the end of BoO: When Rick had him say “lets fight stuff” in contrast to Jason’s war cry; When Reyna made that paperbag comment which I still havent forgotten nor forgiven. There was essentially no question of Percy’s importance or power until the end of Blood of Olympus.

Then. We get to the new books where Percy is once again in charge of the narration. He cant help but see himself as dumb, especially when he’s struggling to finish his senior year when his girlfriend is a shoe in to graduate. He’s insecure. He’s cut off from his new friends, that I think, is something so sad because what he, Hazel and Frank had was so special. He probably hasnt been to camp at all since the quest ended because of all the paperwork he had to do to get into a new school and start catching up so he can graduate on time. On top of that- those recommendation letters that still do not make sense at all.

Add all of that to the trauma and all the schoolworks he’s doing just to catch up, his self esteem took a hard dive and this affects the narration.

I think we got used to seeing Percy from an outside POV that we got a hard time adjusting when we got back to his little self deprecating self.

I’ll be clear: This doesnt absolve Rick’s writing from liability. How Wottg was writen was still a choice- but it leaves me this shallow hope that it can still be resolved better in the next instalment(s). I want this addressed because why does every other character get to have peace except Percy? But I digress. Thats a post for later.

So we can look at the new books and not take the descriptions of himself not too hard, because this kid is truly struggling with seeing worth in himself. We can also blame Rick, because while Im trying to defend this Im also pissed at Percy’s situation. Some characters do not add up at all.

As a final note, here Im gonna address Percy and Grover describing Percy as scrawny in wottg. Which directly contradicts everyone else’s description of him in HoO. Three ways to look in this scenario:

1. Tartarus had affected his physical well being badly.

2. This is Percy being an unreliable narrator again and Grover being a little shit at the wrong time

3. And the one Im subscribing to the most- this was influenced by Walker and Aryan’s dynamic. Again, I will die on the hill that the pjotv main trio was perfectly cast and they can do no wrong. But that dialogue was probably more appropriate coming from Aryan, not Grover. I did notice that Walker and Aryan both kind of look up to the actors they see as “ripped” (theres that one hilarious interview that they were gushing on Charlie being “jacked”- their words, while Leah was weirded out). So Grover’s comments about Percy’s physique was probably Rick trying to fit Walker and Aryan’s dynamic into their characters. Which, in my opinion, is unnecessary. Because those actors embody their characters already so well, theres no need for adjustments, no need to incorporate what Walker and Aryan are like irl into the books because they already do their jobs so well. Whatever dynamic Grover and Percy will have to portray in any future books, I have no doubt that these two can and will deliver an incredible performance so why need to incorporate in their irl personalities between Grover and Percy? Idk, Rick may be doing this subconsciously, maybe intentionally but eh, I just think theres no need. Let Grover and Percy stand as they are and Walker and Aryan (and Leah) stand as they are. The merging just makes Rick contradict himself. Percy is literally on the swim team so it doesnt quite track?

So dont take it too hard, its probably just Grover messing with him and Percy taking it harder because of his poor mental state.

Lmao its been days and Im still at the restaurant. Anyway, feel free to discuss.

[professorsta]

This little girl took her chance at the front to stare straight ahead at the camera good for her

[goldenpinof]

.

[zipquips]

i am going to combust from the amount of times my parental figures assume i cannot do anything right

[palms-upturned]

.

[tyrantwombat]

That said, as cool as the visuals are, they made the choking thing so dramatic again. I get the visual medium thing, and needing those high energy beats, but Sung Hyunjae is just so casually menacing about it in the novel and Yoojin just.

Barely registers it.

Can't be bothered.

[crybaby-bkg]

I hate saying this but I’m genuinely so mentally checked out of school right now and I hate it so fucking bad bc it makes doing even the simplest tasks so fucking difficult. I’m loving my mythology class bc it’s what I love to learn about but everything else feels so hard and heavy and burdensome. I have less than a month left but good lordt everything just feels so overwhelming and like I can’t keep up or retain anything and I hate it

[fingertipsmp3]

I am once again sad that a person I bonded with in a dream is not real

[mrfoox]

Just remembered how after my autistic diagnose every offical person was so careful to approach me about it at first. I know that's probably standard bc not everyone will like those news or know how to handle it but I legit just had doctors go 'hey... So... Are you okay? How do you feel?' and I was like 'haha, nice, so I haven't just been faking/now I know why I'm so different'

[saltinesinsoup]

going to go eat dinner and see how i feel about my roommate after

[waywardsalt]

chat how do we feel about me deciding that if the other dnd party members want a specific item my character has, they need to succeed a persuasion check with a somewhat high dc

[wanderrghost]

i have been at work for exactly 2.5 hours today and i'm already exhausted

[therealbeachfox]

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

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They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

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There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

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It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

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When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

[baekuras]

today on my off day: my boss wrote me (politely mind you) during the ONE time i took a nap around 6pm it is now almost 10pm

welP thats for tomorrow then