#if you wanted to do the marriage thing (wait a year before they legally can marry) just make him 15. like what.

[weepingfireflies]

Me watching Taisho Otome Fairy Tale: If I can convince myself I was straight and cis for years, I can convince myself Shima Tamahiko is 15 years old

[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.

00000

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.

00000

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!”

00000

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.

00000

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.

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour Is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding

In which you and Max tie the knot.

Warnings: just fluff. a bit of anxiety talk but nothing Max can't fix. Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 5k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - Master List

After getting engaged, there were two things that you and Max almost immediately agreed upon: first, because so much of both of your lives were already available for public consumption, you wanted to protect the peace and privacy of your wedding as much as possible. And second, you didn’t want to wait until the next summer break to get married. 

Growing up, it was a cliche fact but a fact all the same, that you often thought of what you wanted your wedding to be like. You were even very much guilty of having secret wedding Pinterest boards set up all through high school and college. But the moment the even presented itself in real life, you suddenly felt choked by the weight of what a big wedding could entail. 

It had been Max that had suggested the solution in the end, his idea passed by you casually one night as you walked hand in hand back to your hotel after dinner before the race in Italy. He had sensed your hesitation around hosting such a big, over the top wedding that everyone seemed to assume you wanted. The spark in your eye faded just a bit when Alex and Carmen had started talking about wedding venues and guest lists and he hadn’t missed the way your shoulders hitched up a bit more towards your ears as you listened to your friends ramble. 

“What if we just eloped?” He works to keep his tone causal, not wanting to give away how appealing that idea sounds to him. He wants you to choose the kind and scale of wedding you want all on your own because he knows you’d do anything for him, right down to agreeing to plan a wedding that doesn’t suit you at all. 

You stop dead in your tracks, Birkin bag swinging wildly at your elbow from the sudden halt. “What?” 

Max sticks his hands deep in the pockets of his khakis, giving you a knowing smile. “You heard me. What if we just said ‘fuck this’ and ran off to the beach and got married by some old fishing captain. Captains can legally marry people, right? That’s a thing?” 

Not for the first time in your relationship, you’re stunned into silence at something your soon-to-be husband says. For a moment all you can do is blink at him, trying to figure out if he’s fucking with you or not. “You’d…you’d want that?” 

Max steps forward, earnest look on his handsome face. “Baby,” He murmurs, framing both sides of your face with his strong hands. “Baby, I’d marry you in an alley way in the middle of New York City. I don’t care where or how, all I care about is that we come out at the end of this married and tied together for life. I don’t care about the wedding, I care about the marriage.” 

Max watches as your pupils blow wide, shy smile tugging at your lips. “That might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

Max’s forehead rests on yours and he lets out a breathy chuckle. “Well, it’s true. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams because I know that will make you happy but other than that, I don’t care.” 

He’d do anything to make sure you were happy, knowing it was just this side of obsessive the way he took you into consideration with every decision he made. Standing opposite of the man who consumed your entire soul, your stomach dipped low, the pleasant swooping sensation something you’ve become accustomed to over the last year. “I just feel so overwhelmed. Both of our lives are already so public and under scrutiny. I want this to be something that we can cherish without any of the potential tarnish of what it means to be so public.” 

You shake your head, feeling a little silly and what you’re feeling. “I love our lives and know we’re privileged to live like this but sometimes I just want to have something that’s just ours. I want to share our love and relationship with everyone but maybe we could just shield some of it from the world?” 

An idea forms in Max’s head then. “What if we eloped somewhere just the two of us and then have a party to celebrate with everyone after?” 

You nod, “Have is quietly ours for a while before sharing the news with everyone?” 

Max reaches for you, enjoying the way you press against him with ease. It’s a warm Italian summer night, the scent of perfumed flowers and left over sunshine hung heavy in the air and you wanted to snap this moment into something that stayed with you forever. Max’s hands heavy on your hips, digging into the flesh there as if he can’t get enough of you despite not leaving your side for the last 24 hours. 

Ever since getting engaged, you’d hated spending any length of time away from Max, almost like your soul had already started to twin itself to him. It made leaving difficult but returning was always so sweet. You had this weekend in Italy before you had to leave on another trip but you’d been considering ramping down your travel over the next few months. But, that was another conversation for another day. 

“Where would we go? And when?” The more you thought bout it, the more the thought of what Max was suggesting appealed to you. 

Max releases you before taking your hand as you two start back towards your hotel, feeling a bit lighter at seemingly solving the problem that had been weighing on you for a few days. 

“We could do it this winter? There’s always a total shut down of everything that week between Christmas and New Years. We’d see our families for Christmas and escape saying we were just taking a trip the two of us.” 

You grin up at him, liking where he was going with this. 

yourpersonalinsta posted

129,938 likes liked by yourdad, assistantshannon, maxverstappen1, and others yourpersonalisnta sun, sand, and a very cute finace kikagomes is this that place in Mexico you were talking about?! It looks so pretty! >>>yourpersonalinsta yes!!! it is gorgeous. you and P need to come here some day. alexandrasaintmleux gorgeous gorgeous girl >>>yourpersonalinsta love you bby user029 dream life fr user0092 looks like paradise! tell max congrats on his 5th title for us!!

December, 2025 

The warm ocean breeze fluttered through the wide open doors of the villa behind you as the bright December sun heated your skin where you laid on a lounge chair. Next to you, Max was sprawled out on on the chair next to you, snoring softly as he took what you thought might just be his third nap of the day. 

Ever since the pair of you had arrived in Mexico a few days ago, you hand’t done much beyond sleep, eat, and fuck. The 2025 season had been the most stressful, chaotic, out of control season Max had ever had and while he had managed to clinch the championship on in Abu Dhabi from Lando, but it had been a difficult ride to get there. So when Christmas had been celebrated and you had jumped on the jet to fly from Monaco over to Mexico, you couldn’t help but continually breathe a sigh of relief. 

The fight had truly weighed on Max, the hollows underneath his eyes growing more and more prominent as the race weeks ticked by. The only relief he had gotten had been your midseason trip to Thailand when he had proposed. When Jensen had asked him what had gotten him through the difficult second half of the season during an interview after he won the championship, his immediate answer had simply been you. 

Much to the disappointment of your fans, you had decided to really ramp down the amount of travel and work you had done following the summer break. Max had been resident at first, not even wanting to entertain he conversation at first when you had brought it up shortly after it had been decided you were going to elope. He didn’t want to even think of you putting your career on hold for him, to take care of him, to follow him. Not because he didn’t want you around. It was the exact opposite. Just the thought of you spending more time traveling with him instead of the insane schedule you’d been keeping over the last year had relief flooding through him. While he was tired from his schedule and the pressure of winning a 5th consecutive world title, he knew you were tired too. There were many times you both went weeks without setting foot in your shared apartment and sometimes you’d go weeks between seeing each other too. 

No, it wasn’t because he didn’t want you around. It was because he didn’t want you to resent him one day down the line that you had given up your career for him. He couldn’t bare the thought of being the cause of any resentment or heartache for you and despite how much he wanted you by his side every possible moment. 

In the end, reason had won out as you had explained that you weren’t taking a break because of him. He was certainly part of it, but like him, you were exhausted. You reminded Max of Brazil last year, how you had slept for so long the day after the race there that Max had postponed your flights home for another week he was so worried about you getting sick. 

You had done a few interviews since the engagement, mostly with people in the motorsport world: Susie and Toto Wolff, Natalie Pinkham, and of course Lewis being your biggest interviews. In addition, you had done some post race interviews and coverage for F1TV, which allowed you to have even more of a reason to be in the paddock week in and week out. You weren’t sure where your podcast was going in the future, but for now, you were content with the schedule and where you were professionally, despite what some of your critics might be whispering. 

All of this works through your mind as Max begins to stir beside you. His eyes blink open eventually and when they do, they immediately find you. “Hi baby.” He whispers, voice rough with sleep. 

“Good morning, sleepy head.” You grin, setting your book down beside you as Max rolls over onto his side, creating some space for you on the oversized lounge chair, beckoning you to join him. 

As you snuggle deeper into his chest, Max slots his thigh between your legs and slips his top arm over your waist, pulling you closer. “You looked deep in thought. Everything okay?” He murmurs before his lips ghost over your cheek. 

“Hmmm, of course. Just thinking about this year and how good it feels to just breathe.” 

Max could tell when you got in one of your thinking moods just by the way your body language shifted. In those few moments between when he had woken up and you had noticed his eyes open, he had watched you staring out over the villa’s lawn. Your shoulders were relaxed, the usual pinch between your brows completely absent and with legs crossed at your ankles as you read your book, you had looked the picture of relaxed. 

“You still feeling okay about tomorrow?” 

Just the thought of what tomorrow would bring made your heart rate pitch up a bit. The first morning after your arrival, you and Max had gone over to the concierge in the main reception building to tell them of your plans for an elopement. They had, of course, been ecstatic and ready to help you in whatever way you wanted. After a few hours of discussion, you had everything planned and the concierge snapped into action. 

“I am…unless you’re not?” It occurs to you that Max has been awfully quiet this morning, a soft reflective mood taking over his usual energetic attitude and suddenly, anxiety pinches in your chest. You desperately search Max’s face for any sign of hesitation or regret, not knowing what you’d do if he suddenly got cold feet before tomorrow. 

Max shakes his head before pulling you even closer, fingers digging into the bare flesh of your hip, covered only by the little string of your bikini that you’ve been living in since you got here. “Lifeje, stop that. You know I would have married you the moment after I proposed to you months ago.” 

Something settles in you at his words, having just needed that little bit of reassurance from him. As hard as you tired and as much as Max made sure to never leave any doubt in your mind that he was all in with you, you sometimes still found your anxiety getting the best of you. Scenarios about how Max was having second thoughts, how he didn’t really want to marry you, how this was all in your head sometimes ran rampant in your head. You were getting better at controlling them, especially after he had proposed but that was the funny thing about anxiety, you couldn’t always control it. 

“I know.” You whisper, fingers trailing up and down his toned arm that was wrapped around you tightly. 

“Anxiety?” It was almost spooky how well Max could read you from just a shift in your tone of voice. All you could do was nod, suddenly feeling silly. Max rolled his hips into yours, pulling your lower half closer. “Do you feel what you do to me?” He asked, pressing his already half hard cock into your center. “Do you feel what you do to me just laying here? All you have to do is look at me and I’m a goner. There isn’t a single second thought in my mind, love.” 

“I’m sorry I’m hard to love sometimes.” Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as Max lifts your chin so he can have a better look at you. “I’m sorry you have to constantly reassure me despite not giving me any reason to doubt you. I know  it can’t be easy.” 

You had spent most of your adult life being told how difficult you were to love. How hard it was to deal with the constant reassurance you needed when the anxiety crept in, telling you you weren’t good enough. It was unnerving sometimes when Max loved you so easily and effortlessly because how did he find it so easy to do when no one else before him had? 

Max pulls back so he can get a good look in those pretty eyes of yours. It made him rage internally knowing how insecure you were. Not because he faulted you. Oh, absolutely not. He raged at the people that made you feel like you were inferior and hard to love because that was something that he simply didn’t see. Loving you and being with you was the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life. 

“I want you to listen to me, okay?” He waits, brows raised, until you nod. “I will gladly spend the rest of my life telling you how much I worship you whenever and however you need or want me to. When I take those vows tomorrow, I mean it with every bit of my soul, schatje. For worse or better, you’re mine and I’m yours from tomorrow on, okay? You are not hard to love and I am so lucky I get the privilege of telling you every single day how much I love you.” 

Your mind settles a bit at his words as you let the sensation of having Max so close to you wash over your anxious nerves. “How did I get so lucky to have you?” 

“Oh, sweet girl it’s not you that’s lucky.” Max leans in, pressing a kiss to your lips as you sigh into him. “I’m the lucky one that somehow coincided you to love me back.” 

There were only two people in your lives besides you and Max that knew what you two were really doing in Mexico. GP because Max was physically incapable of keeping anything from his race engineer and your assistant Shannon. GP had called Max out on his sudden change in demeanor in Italy after the decision to elope had been made, asking Max what had happened in the previous 12 hours to make him not so grumpy when he showed up to the track that morning. Max being a terrible liar when it came to GP had been unable to think quick enough to come up with an excuse and when he had simply looked at GP with a deer in the headlights look, he had fessed up and spilled the beans. When you had found out that Max had told GP you had sworn the race engineer to total secrecy, telling him you’d cut off a very important body part of his if it got leaked. 

Shannon was the other person that knew and it was only because you had needed help with choosing and figuring out how to sneakily order, tailor, and pack a wedding gown without anyone getting wind of it. You knew if the paparazzi had caught sight of you leaving a bridal boutique with a dress in hand nearly a year before you had told everyone else that you were planning on getting married, people would talk. So, with Max’s approval, you had enlisted the help of your personal assistant who had honestly turned into one of your closest friends over the time that she had worked with you.

 It had been Shannon that helped you choose the dress that you wore the morning you married Max, the white lace clinging to every curve and valley of your body. It was just going to be the two of you, the officiant, and the photographer there and the utter quiet and simplicity of getting ready in complete silence and peace was something you would cherish for the rest of your life. Max had left the villa about an hour ago, telling you he had a few errands to run before the officiant would turn up for the ceremony. What kind of errands could he be doing in the middle of a luxury resort in the middle of the Mexican jungle, you had no idea but you hadn’t asked any questions because you wanted the time alone to get ready. 

You’re just slipping on the second thin strap up over your shoulder when there’s a knock at the villa door moments before it swings open. Max comes bustling in, wearing the khaki pants and white linen shirt you had chosen for the beach nuptials. He’s got a fresh haircut and shaved face, his bright blue eyes looking for you the moment he walks in the door. In his hand dangles a little black bag with silver ties that doesn’t look big enough to hold much more than a small box or two. 

“Lifeje, where are -” Max stops in his tracks when you round the corner out of the bedroom and he sees you for the first time. His hand goes straight to his sternum, rubbing at the place that is suddenly aching at the mere sight of you. He had thought he’d been prepared to see you in your wedding dress but what he saw in front of him made every coherent thought tumble right out of his head. If he had thought you were the prettiest woman he’d ever seen before, seeing you standing there before him in the white lace dress with it’s plunging neckline and fabric clinging to your every curve, just confirmed that he was the luckiest person in the entire world. “Christ.” He whispers, unable to move from the spot he’s rooted to. 

You let out a little uncertain giggle, tucking a piece of hair that you had left out of the sleek low bun you had styled your hair in for the day behind your ear. “Do I look okay?” 

Max finds the ability to move then, crossing the room in just a few strides, suddenly needing nothing more than to touch you. He had to know what that lace felt like under his fingers, had to know if your skin looked as radiant up close as it did when he had first walked into the villa. 

“I am so glad I wrote my vows down because there is no way I’m remembering anything while I look at you.” He croaks, voice becoming totally unreliable with emotion just seeing you dressed like this solely for him brings up. “I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful in my entire life, schatje. ” 

And it was the truth. Max had never seen anyone as gorgeous as you were standing there in that white dress, veil tucked into the top of your bun so it cascaded down over your shoulders. The dress pools at your feet and dips low in the back, showing off the tanned and toned body you work so hard for. At your ears wink the diamonds Max had gotten you for Christmas just a week earlier. A diamond and sapphire necklace set in platinum sits at your throat, also a gift from Max for your one year anniversary earlier in the year. Seeing you wearing the jewels that he’s bought for you does something to Max, a possessive streak proudly zipping through him at the thought of you dripping in expensive baubles that he’s bought you. 

“What’s in the bag?” You ask as Max settles his hands low on your hips, still checking you out with absolutely no shame whatsoever. 

He seems to remember that there’s something else in the room other than you then, holding the bag out to you with a sly grin on his face. “I know we said our wedding bands were going to be our presents to each other but I saw this the other day when we were out shopping in that little jewelry store and had to go back to get it.” 

You raise a brow but know better than to argue about Max spoiling you. It’s a lost cause at this point and you settled for just accepting the pretty things he liked to give you simply because he loved seeing you in them a long time ago. You take the bag from his hands and reaching in, you pull out a long, slender velvet box. 

When you open the box, you barely stifle a gasp at the delicate bracelet sitting on the black satin. It’s the diamond and pearl tennis bracelet set in platinum that you had casually looked at yesterday when you and Max had gone into town to do some shopping and had mentioned in an off handed comment that you had liked how the pearls and diamonds worked so well together, although you had ultimately decided not to get it because of the price tag and the fact that you thought you’d never have anywhere to wear it. 

“Max.” You whisper, gaze darting up from the box to Max’s own eager look. “It’s…it’s so pretty I don’t have the words. You spoil me.” 

“And I’m going to continue to spoil you for the rest of our lives, lifeje. Now, can I put it on you so you can be dripping in diamonds for our wedding day, please?” 

You laugh a little, somehow unsure of how you got this lucky to be here in Mexico marrying the man that literally worships the ground you walk on. 

“Now, I understand that you both have written your vows for each other. Max, would you like to go first?” 

Later that afternoon, the two of you stand barefoot on the beach, a gentle breeze teasing the veil at the back of your head, while the officiant the hotel recommended stands before you. The atmosphere could not be more perfect. The sun hangs low in the sky, sunset just an hour or two away so the golden rays cascade over you and Max. Behind you, the photographer you hired snaps discreetly away. The fact that it’s just the four of you on the beach witnessing this could not have been more perfect. 

Max stands opposite you, large hands swallowing your smaller ones, and takes a deep breath. You can see the emotion playing plainly on his face and know he’s going to have a hard time getting through these words. For the outside world, Max Verstappen is a hardened competitor that takes no shit and will do anything to win. But here? On the beach with just you and 2 others as he professes his love and adoration to you, he’s as soft as kitten and almost more emotional than you are. 

He couldn’t have been happier at his decision to write down the words to his vows because the emotions that swirled in him then, as he stands there looking at you in your wedding dress is so overwhelming he can barely put together a coherent thought. Here he was, the man that has won five world championships and zips around a race track at 200 miles per hour regularly, completely unable to speak he’s so happy. 

The paper is a bit crumpled when he pulls it out of the pocket of his khakis but it’s fine all the same. He clears his throat nervously and then begins. “When Melissa suggested I go on your podcast, she said it would be an amazing PR opportunity for me. I think I told her no five times but on that sixth time, I agreed because GP said he thought I’d like you and then he sent me that interview. And then I walked into that studio on that cold, rainy April and have never thanked GP and Melissa so fast. That first time I saw you, I felt my entire world shift beneath my feet. Having the childhood I did ruined the idea of love for me for most of my life but the moment you waltzed into my life, schatje, I knew that you were going to show me how wrong I’d been. I love you endlessly and will forever be thankful that you’ve shown me what the meaning of real, true, unconditional love is.” Max takes a breath, swiping at an errant tear that falls down his cheek. 

Across from him, you grip at his hands, desperately trying to commit this entire moment to memory. You’re endlessly glad you both had written your vows so you’d be able to look back and remember what was said today on this beach. 

“I promise to love, honor, cherish, and spoil you,” He pauses when you chuckle and roll your eyes, but just squeezes your hand before continuing on. “Whatever you need, you’ll have. Whatever you want, it’s yours. I promise to spend the rest of my life making sure you never want for anything ever again, both material wants but also emotional wants. You are my number one priority from here on out and I vow to never ever stop living up to these promises. I never believed in soulmates until I saw you for the first time and words can’t accurately describe how much I love you. Having the title of your husband is worth a million and one world champion titles and I promise to spend the rest of my days proving that to you.” 

The emotions ripple over you as Max concludes his vows. The officiant turns to you, dipping his head to let you know it’s now your turn. Max squeezes your hands together and you drown in the watercolor blue eyes looking back at you for a moment. 

“I stopped believing in soulmates a long time ago. That is until you walked into that recording studio and looked at me like you’d known me for our entire lives. I tried so hard not to get ahead of myself for so long, but it was that first time you flew me down to Miami two weeks after meeting you that I knew. I knew that you were it for me, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. We’ve been through so much in such a short time and I know there are so many people that are going to think we’re criminally insane for doing this. But it’s nearly impossible to put into words what you’ve done to my soul in such a short time, Max. I know it’s beyond cliche but you’ve altered who I am at my very core. I’ve never been with someone so unwaveringly supportive of everything that I am and everything that I do.” You draw in a shaky breath then, needing a moment before you can make the rest of your words materialize. 

“I promise to love you so unconditionally and strongly for the rest of my life. I promise to be by your side during the highs and lows of your career, on and off the track. The life we live is so fast and so difficult sometimes but just knowing that you’re on the other side of that plane ride, waiting for me to come home to you, makes everything we do worth it. I promise to give you whatever you need no matter how difficult it may be. You are my life now and I will spend the rest of my life showing up for you. Soulmates are real and you’re mine. I’m so thankful that I found you, Max. I love you.” 

A quiet settles between you and Max then, the vows cementing the bond you’ve been building since that first day in the recording studio. The officiant and photographer seem to sense it too, their soft smiles playing on their lips as they give the vows that were just exchanged a chance to sink in for each of you. 

Rings are exchanged and before you’re able to get a handle on things, the officiant declares you and Max husband and wife. The feeling of sheer relief and excitement washes over both you and Max as you’re told to seal the vows with a kiss. And what a kiss it is. Max pours his entire soul into the first kiss he shares with you as your husband. Everything he said in his vows being repeated by the way his lips cover yours, working over your mouth in such a way that has your knees buckling. 

“I love you so much, wife.” Max murmurs against your lips just before breaking the first of many kisses between husband and wife. 

maxverstappen1 posted

1,309,292 likes liked by yourpersonalinsta, redbullracing, assistant shannon, and others maxverstappen1 she's stuck with me forever now danielricciardo EXCUSE ME BUT WHAT THE FUCK user028 did they ELOPE??? Without telling ANYONE??? OH MY GOD??? HELLO??? user448 somehow, this feels very on brand for the both of them >>>user432 i was just thinking the same thing. charlesleclerc I'm sorry, WHAT??? yourpersonalinsta love you, husband >>>user0299 oh my god, i cannot be normal about this landonorris kinda heartbroken I didn't get to be the flower boy, ngl >>>user998 this is such a lando comment oscarpiastri wow! didn't even know you were engaged! congrats. man! >>>user332 why is this the most Oscar Piastri comment I've ever read??? >>>user948 HAHA OSCAR

yourpersonalinsta posted

1,029,398 likes liked by yourdad, maxverstappen1, assistantshannon, and others yourpersonalinsta wife>>>fiance user0298 the HAND PLACEMENT in that last photo. Max, my maaaan. user918 they eloped and didn't tell a single soul. i fucking love this so hard. kikagomes OH. MY. GOD. Congratulations gorgeous girl!!! >>>yourpersonalinsta love you pretty girl! user8892 my man wins his 5th world championship and then gets married in secret, max is winning at life rn assistantshannon so happy for you boss lady. you and max deserve the world. love you!!! >>>yourpersonalinsa so thankful i had your help with this, sweet girl. user827 are we just going to ignore the TATTOO on Max's wrist??? HER??? >>>user0291 oh my god oh my god

tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland

[allthesethingswillendsoon]

Long, long time

CHAPTER FOUR: Pride Parades and Christmas Dinners

SUMMARY: Paige and Azzi learn about gay people, in severely different situations. Gay marriage is legalized in Virginia, and the girls think about what that means to them. Teenage girls can be absolute bitches, especially the rich ones.

NOTE: This one was meant to have more scenes but as I was writing them I realised that it was going to be like way longer if I did that. So the stuff from that bit will be the next chapter, and then the chapter after that the other stuff I was going to do in this chapter. I hope you guys enjoy this one, feel free to give me feedback as I'm the only one editing my stuff so I might be leaving plotholes and grammar mistakes in. Again, thanks so much for the support :)

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Warnings: Mentions of parent leaving, angst, homophobia, homophobic slurs 6.9k words (lol) Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

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10th of JUNE, 2007

EDINA, MINNESOTA

Paige Bueckers was five years old when she first learnt about gay people.

She had been driving somewhere unremarkable with her mom and dad. She sat in the backseat, watching the familiar Minnesota scenery speed by in a blur. The radio played softly, the sound muffled by the rush of air coming through the open windows. It was a rare thing, the summer heat. Paige had only experienced it for a few weeks a year for most of her life. She had decided she liked the way the sun felt as its’ rays blared down on her face, even if it left her skin pink and tender afterwards. 

Because of the sunshine, and the fact that it was so rare, nearly ninety-percent of the Minnesota population was outside, some hosting barbecues and pool days. Others were simply lying in the sun as they appreciated the rare chance to catch some vitamin D in temperatures above forty degrees fahrenheit. 

Finally, after what could have been hours or mere minutes in the car, the little family had reached their destination, The memory of where and when would be lost to Paige in the years to come. The day had been unbearably mundane, and up until leaving the car, it appeared that it was going to stay that way; that was until their family (in particular her mom) spotted a massive gathering of people.

Looking at the group was like looking at a rainbow. They had fun, upbeat music blasting all throughout the street. It was so loud that Paige’s little body had shook slightly at a particularly strong bass note.

“What’s that?” She had questioned good-naturedly, pointing at the large group

“It’s disgusting is what it is!” Amy hissed back, before she stormed off to the edge of the footpath beside them.

Bob had held Paige to his chest as they both watched Amy spill a slew of hateful comments at the joyful group of people.

“You’re all going to Hell! All you fags and dykes are!”

A young dark man turned towards her, his body shimmering, skin glittering gold under the sun. With his middle finger raised he yelled back, half-laughing,  “Well I guess we’ll see you there, you crazy bitch!”

Her mom went silent then, before she huffed indignantly and power-walked off in the direction of wherever it was they had been going.

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The moment lingered in the back of Paige’s mind as the day passed, the more she thought about it the more she wanted to throw up. 

Even as she laid in bed, waiting for her dad to come in and tuck her into bed, her mind was replaying the moment like a broken record player scratching its way through the same portion of a song, again and again.

She thought back to the words her mom had used. She had never heard words like those before.

“Fags.”

“Dykes.”

In the dark of her room she whispered the phrases. Simply feeling them leave her mouth was unpleasant, they were heavy, and they tasted sour. Despite the bitter taste that lingered in her mouth, seeping into her taste buds, she kept on going, repeating them over and over and over.

They left a weird feeling in her chest, and she could feel her face twisting and contorting at the tart sensation of saying the words out loud.

She thought of the way her mom had looked, on the side of the road. She had been red all over, a vein popping out of her neck with the force with which she’d said the words. 

It was disgusting. 

Paige, in her very few years of living, had never seen her mom like that. Not when she found out that Paige had made a sharpie masterpiece on the living room walls. Not when she had walked in on Paige cutting her long blonde hair off in choppy chunks with the kitchen scissors. Not when Paige had fed her uncle’s dog chocolate, because “He deserves to try some!”. Even in her worst moments she had never ever seen Amy Bueckers that angry. 

It didn’t make any sense to her, the whole scene had been so beautiful, the group of people glowing red and blue and yellow and every shade in between. Big pieces of fabric had been hoisted up into the sky. The sun had shined down on them like a spotlight, illuminating the beauty of the moment.

So why had her mom gotten so angry? Why had she used those words? What did they mean?

Amidst her pondering, her dad walked into her room. He stopped mid-step and stared at her. 

Paige hadn’t realised that as she lost herself in her thoughts, the words had kept flowing out of her, her mouth had gone numb to the venom that came with saying the names. He continued to stare at her for a minute, he watched as she noticed him and slipped out of her trance. Finally, the words stopped falling out of her mouth.

She turned to look at him and smiled, all milky little teeth and youthful innocence. Hearing those words come from someone so beautiful and young was vile. But hearing it from the mouth of his daughter made bile rise in his throat as his heart dropped to his stomach. It was wrong, all wrong.

Bob realised then that he had a choice to make. He had learnt over the years that he couldn’t control Amy’s questionable politics, something he had chosen to overlook for the sake of love. Yet, the thought had never occurred to him that one day Amy’s beliefs would impact Paige. 

He turned, ducking his head into the hall to check that Amy was still in her spot on the couch, watching whatever lifestyle garbage was playing on the TV. He closed the door softly and came to sit on the edge of Paige’s bed.

“Honey, I need you to know something.” He said it with soft seriousness, piquing Paige’s interest  immediately

“What?” She questioned, big blue eyes staring up at him intently.

“Those words you were saying before, do you know what they mean?”

“No, I just know them ‘cause that’s what mom was saying.”

Bob felt a stab of guilt. That’s exactly what every parent never wants to hear, that their five-year-old was repeating slurs in their bedroom because ‘that’s what mom was saying’.

“Well I need you to know that they are very bad, mean words. And I want you to promise me that you will never, ever use them, okay?” He was looking at her like what he was saying was important, and even though she didn’t really understand, she knew that it really mattered to him.

“Okay. But why dad?” Paige had always been one to question authority, a habit that Bob and Amy had worked tirelessly to decrease. But as she asked her voice was filled with nothing but genuine curiosity.

“Well… you know those people we saw today?” He said slowly, trying to figure out the right way to explain to someone so young.

“The ones mom yelled at? With the pretty rainbows?”

It killed him, it really did, it was the last kind of conversation that he wanted to have with her. He should’ve been tucking her into bed, reading her a bedtime story about magical adventures with swords and castles and happy endings. Not reminiscing on the pride parade that her mom had quite literally rained on.

“Yeah, those ones. They were celebrating this thing called ‘Pride month’, which is for gay people.” As Bob spoke Paige nodded along, taking in the information.

“It looked fun.” She smiled. 

“Yeah, it did.” He smiled back.

“So what are gay people?”

“Gay people are boys that like boys and girls that like girls.” Bob explained, trying to put it into the simplest terms he could muster up.

“Hmmm, okay” 

“And I need you to know that they’re just as important as anyone else. Whoever it is that you love doesn’t make you better, or worse than anyone else.” He said the words with conviction, and Paige hummed in understanding. She was the brightest and kindest little girl he had ever met, it was amazing -and slightly disheartening- that a five year old could understand that respecting other people for who they were was basic decency when her own mother couldn’t.

As Paige stared ahead, deep in thought, a moment of silence passed.

“Do you think I’m gay? All my friends are girls.” She asked, brows furrowed as she contemplated. He nearly chuckled at her question. It was so naive, but the good kind. The kind that came from a place of genuine curiosity and wonder, the kind that was endearing and left a warm glow in his chest.

“I can’t tell you if you’re gay or not.”

“Oh.” This seemed to puzzle her. Her dad could tell her what time to go to bed and what she was going to eat for dinner, but not if she was gay? It just didn’t make sense in her little brain.

“But what I can tell you, is that no matter what you are, gay or not, I love you.” His voice wobbled the tiniest bit as he leant down to hug her tight. “I love you to the moon and back, You’re my whole universe Paigey.”

“I love you too Dad” She squealed, squeezing him as close as she could.

“See you in the morning kiddo.” He said as he flicked off the overhead lights and shut the door.

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The best Bob could hope is that Paige forgets the whole day, letting the memories of her Mom’s outburst fall away with the unremarkable detritus that comes with childhood.

But if not, if somehow the memories did stick, and Paige were to look back on the moment in the years to come, he hoped that she would know better than her mom. That she would think back to the radiant group of people and see them with nothing but love. That she would know her mom was wrong in what she had said.

But above all, he hoped that she remembered that he loved her, and he hoped that that could be enough.

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24th of DECEMBER, 2007

RICHMOND, VIRGINIA

Just like Paige, Azzi Fudd had also learnt about gay people when she was five years old.

It was Christmas Eve, and the Fudd’s were driving to their Aunt Karly’s house in Richmond. 

The house was beautiful, all red brick walls and white detailings, ivy growing up the sides. In every room there were intricate stained glass windows, and when the light shone through the walls turned a million different colours. There were rooms upon rooms, each with their own color scheme and furniture style. Azzi and her brothers would stay in the room next to her parents, with a triple bunk bed and flowery green wallpaper.

Azzi simply adored the house, but what she adored most was the gardens. 

The house was located on the very outskirts of Richmond, so there was much more land than what was normal for the area. Nearly every inch of the property was covered with grass so green it seemed nearly impossible that it could be real. Trees of every kind -orange, lemon, mango- littered the property. The best bit though, in Azzi’s opinion were the rose bushes, found nearly everywhere, under the windows, around the fence. But the best bit of all was outside the back of the house where the flower garden was. Not only were there roses but hydrangeas and lilies and lavender, all leading up to a little gazebo. 

It was simply magnificent. But it also required  a lot of upkeep, a job that aging Aunt Karly simply wasn’t able to do. So instead Karly had hired a local, recent college graduate to care for the grounds. She had been pleasantly surprised at the young girl’s gardening skills, and even more pleasantly surprised when her daughter, Ruby, had revealed that she was dating their gardener, Peyton.

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After an hour or two they had finally reached the stretch of road that led to the house. Azzi got that same giddy feeling she felt every time they visited, the house felt magical. When she was running around the garden everything was possible, she loved it.

Another moment passed, Azzi’s excitement bubbling in her chest, then, the house finally came into view. It was tall and wide and fenced off, though the gates were never closed, literally and metaphorically.

The house was perfect for hosting the massive, Christmas get-together that was held every year. Generosity was undoubtedly an innate trait of the Fudd family. Not one single member of the family, oldest to youngest, could recall a Christmas that they hadn’t opened their invite to at least five non-Fudds. They would always tell whoever they invited that it was a gift to have them there, that the best part of Christmas was spending time with family both old and new. Most often the people invited had lost their own families to disease, or were far away from home for whatever reason, and they would almost always return for years after that, some even bringing the families they’d built since.

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That year, in light of their new relationship and Peyton’s lack of supportive family, Ruby was bringing Peyton to christmas. Karly had reassured Ruby that Peyton was a lovely girl and everyone would love her, but still Ruby was worried that some of the guests' archaic views would make for an awkward gathering.

She knew she was spiraling, but she couldn’t help but worry that even little Azzi would judge them. 

A few nights before the get-together, on one of their weekly skypes, Ruby had tried to bridge the topic with Azzi.

“So Az, y’know how we invite lots of people to Christmas?” She asked, attempting to start the slightly dreaded conversation.

“Yeah! It’s my favourite bit.” She responded, voice high with excitement. Ruby went to continue before she was cut off by Azzi, “Wait, my favorite is potatoes actually. ”

That caused her to chuckle a little, her little cousin’s youthful sincerity easing her worries, if only for a minute.

“Well… I just wanted to tell you that I’m bringing our gardener, Peyton. She’s my…” As she neared the end of her sentence she lost confidence before trailing off quietly. She went silent for thirty seconds as she stared down at her hands. When she looked back up Azzi was staring at her, waiting patiently for a response. She realised then that she still needed to finish her sentence, “She’s my friend.”

“So she’s the one who makes the garden pretty?” Azzi asked inquisitively.

“Yeah, that’s her.” Ruby responded, her nerves only building from the fact she still hadn’t told Azzi about her.

“She’s really good, I’m so so so excited to meet her!” She grinned wide. Ruby knew how much she loved the gardens, and desperately hoped that Azzi would love Peyton just as much.

As her bedtime grew closer Azzi began to grow sleepy. Finally, after her third yawn she decided to admit defeat and called her dad to tuck her into bed, leaving Katie to talk to Ruby.

Katie and Tim both knew that Ruby was dating Peyton, and Katie could sense Ruby’s palpable anxiety about the whole situation. Jose and Jon weren’t yet old enough to fully understand what it meant to date, but Azzi had just reached the age where she could understand the concept of relationships, and she had become quite obsessed with the novelty of the whole idea.

“You know you can tell her honey, she won’t mind, she’ll probably just want to know when you guys are getting married!” Katie explained with a soft smile.

“I know I don’t have any reason to worry, but I am anyway.” Ruby explained. She had always been close to her aunt, who was just as tough as she was soft.

“It’ll be okay hon, I promise.” The red-haired woman soothed. 

Ruby was still very nervous, but she realised that there was no point worrying about something that hadn’t even happened yet. She also remembered that Azzi was the most loving kid she had ever met, and if anyone was going to be supporting her, it was Azzi.

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 After finally managing to wrangle their three young children out of the car, their family stood knocking at the front door step. They could hear footsteps coming towards them. Ruby opened the door and Azzi flung herself into her, she was tall for her age, but not tall enough to reach past her hips, so she settled for squeezing her legs.

“Nice to see you too Azzi!” Ruby chuckled as she shuffled them inside, Azzi seeming intent on not letting go.

The rest of her family had dispersed to go say hi to everyone else there. When Azzi finally let go she was met with the sight of an unfamiliar face.

“Hi Azzi! I’m Peyton, I’m Ruby’s girlfriend, and I work in the gardens.” Peyton smiled, kneeling to be face to face with the little girl. She was really pretty, she had short blonde hair and bluey-green eyes.

“Hi Peyton!” Azzi grinned back, her breath minty fresh from all the candy canes she’d eaten in the car. 

Before Peyton knew what was happening Azzi was throwing herself into her arms, “So you’re the one who makes the gardens so pretty?”

“Yeah that’s me!” Peyton chuckled.

Azzi pulled away from her before grabbing her hand and dragging her out to the garden.

Ruby had watched the whole scene with a smile, of course Azzi would love her. When Peyton turned around laughing Ruby mouthed an ‘I love you’ to her.

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After a long dinner of ham and mashed potatoes, all the guests had spread out around the house and the garden, some playing cards, others having wine.

Azzi had been playing with her brothers in the garden, well she was trying to. Jon was only a little bit younger than her, and could almost keep up with her. Jose on the other hand? It was safe to say the almost-toddler had a long way to go in terms of fine motor skills - and also just motor skills in general.

Ruby and Peyton were sitting in the gazebo chatting when Peyton decided she wanted more cranberry juice. The second she left Azzi came barrelling over to Ruby and hopped into her lap.

“So… Peyton’s your girlfriend?” The small girl questioned curiously.

“Yeah.” Ruby answered simply.

“That’s cool” Azzi responded, unusually quiet for some reason.

Ruby just hummed in response before Azzi continued with a smile, “You’re lucky, she’s really, really pretty.”

“I’m super lucky, she is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Ruby really did feel like the luckiest person in the world. She had no idea how she had bagged someone as amazing as Peyton, it was something she was grateful for each and every day.

 Azzi sat in silence with her comment for a minute, then she added, “So are you guys going to get married soon?”

Ruby bit back a laugh, she did exactly what Katie said she was.

“Well… I think it’s a bit too soon for that. But even if we wanted to, we couldn't.” She responded cautiously. If she didn’t answer right Azzi would be off telling everyone that Ruby and Peyton were actually getting married.

The last bit confused Azzi, “What do you mean? Who’s gonna stop you?”

Ruby tried to explain it in a way that made sense to her cousin’s growing empathetic brain, “It’s a rule the government made. Only boys and girls can marry each other. Gay people can’t get married.”

She nodded along, taking in what she was saying, “So you’re both gay?”

“Uh-huh, we’re both lesbians.” 

“And … ‘lebseens’ can’t get married?” 

“Yup.” Azzi’s little eyebrows furrowed at this, why would anyone stop weddings? It was just silly.

“That doesn’t make any sense.” Azzi huffed, crossing her arms in outrage.

“I know right!” It was bittersweet to watch someone so little learn of the cruel and hateful ways of the world.

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna make them change the rules. I promise.” She said it with such conviction Ruby imagined Azzi storming up to the White House for a split second.

“Thanks Az, you’re the best.” Ruby said, before pulling Azzi into a cuddle.

“Then, when ‘lebseens’ can get married, you can marry Peyton, and I can be a flower girl!” Azzi squealed, there was nothing she loved like a wedding.

“Sounds perfect! I can’t wait!”

They heard the soft click of the back door closing and turned to see Peyton walking towards them with two wine glasses filled with cranberry juice.

“Peyton! We’re talking about your wedding!” Azzi squealed, waving her arms wildly.

“Oh you are?” Peyton laughed, flashing Ruby a knowing smirk, before sitting down next to the two.

Ruby was too happy to feign offense when Azzi moved from her lap into Peyton’s.

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16th of OCTOBER, 2014

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd were twelve years old when gay marriage was legalized in the state of Virginia.

It had been a happy day. Oakridge was a predominantly blue town, sure there were a few flag-waving, Trump-loving republicans, but for the most part, it had been a happy day across town. Music played from speakers and chalk-rainbows littered the roads. The gas station gave out a free, small slushie with every transaction over thirty dollars. It was a happy day, but a business day nonetheless.

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Azzi often detailed her intricate wedding plans to Paige. It was one of her biggest dreams, to have a beautiful wedding, she was a firm believer that a beautiful wedding led to a beautiful life. 

She had it all figured out, down to the color of the tablecloths and the thank-you gifts. She knew she wanted the ceremony in her Aunt Karly’s garden gazebo, and the reception to be a healthy mix of indoors and outdoors. Her dad would walk her down the aisle to a live orchestral version of ‘Here comes the Bride’. She would wear a silky gown, off the shoulder, hopefully by then her hair would be grown out, her curls long and thick. 

The one thing she wasn’t clear on was if Paige would be her maid of honor. It was weird, there was no one in the world she loved like she loved Paige, she was her best friend, her world, but the thought of Paige being her maid of honor just didn’t sit right with her. That was the one thing she never mentioned when she spoke of her plans, Paige never pushed it, so she never really thought much of it - she decided that maybe it was better that way.

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The legalisation of gay marriage really did prove to her friends and family that Azzi was a ball of sunshine with a heart of gold.  When the news had come on the night before to announce the news she had sat on the couch and cried tears of joy. 

She cried for Peyton and Ruby, for the gay guys down the road, for everyone really.

She didn’t tell anyone, not even Paige, but she cried for herself too, cried because now she knew that no matter what she would be able to have a beautiful wedding, and a beautiful life. Azzi knew she wasn’t a lesbian, she had crushed on many boys in her grade, but she often felt that she could love a girl too, if the right one came along.

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Paige, on the other hand, expected herself to be rather unmoved on the topic. She had always maintained her position on marriage. She had never had the conversation with her dad, but when the topic came up at school she made her opinions known, she would never ever get married. 

The reason behind that massive, blanket statement was quite obvious to anyone who knew about Paige’s parents. Her mom had just packed up and left, ten years of marriage and a kindergartener just left in the dust. Paige had sworn to herself that she would never be in the position her mom put her dad and herself in.

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Even though she knew she would never get married she imagined the horrid situation often;

She’d be twenty-something and finding herself in some big city somewhere, maybe New York. Sat at a bar he’d sit down at the stool next to her and order two drinks, a whiskey and coke for himself and some flowery, syrupy drink for her. He would be tall, maybe six-foot-two, with broad shoulders, a mess of dark brown hair, and a mouth full of perfect white teeth. It wouldn’t matter whether or not they had hit it off, she’d be in his bed that night, letting herself be touched and touched and touched. It didn’t matter whether or not she liked him. That was how it had to be, she knew that.

In the morning she would wake up naked in a mess of white sheets and stumble into the kitchen wearing one of his oversized white button downs. She wouldn’t have had the chance the night before to take in where she was, the apartment would be massive, all glass window walls and marble countertops. And there he’d be, at the stove frying eggs and bacon, his face serious until he’d see her and the harsh lines of his face would give way to a big smile.

They would sit at the table and talk about whatever it was that you were supposed to talk about when you wake up naked in a half-stranger's apartment. It would be around eight-thirty when he would remember that he had a big, important meeting at his big, important job (that his big, important dad definitely didn’t get him). So he would leave her his credit card and a house key before running out the door as he did his tie. 

Then she’d call Azzi, who would be at some prestigious college, learning about something way too complicated for Paige. They would giggle as Paige regaled the night before and Azzi would tell her how lucky she is and that she should really, really pursue a relationship with him, and so she would. Even in this alternate universe where her dreams of building houses with her dad had and her personal integrity had seemingly vanished, she would still hang onto her best friend’s words like they were gospel.

The days would pass into weeks then months then years. She would end the lease on her crappy apartment and move into his. She would meet his family at a business dinner and laugh and charm them while wearing baby pink heels and a dress that Azzi picked out. A few weeks later, on an impromptu trip to Paris (because that was who she was now), he’d get down on one knee and present her with a massive diamond and ask a question she knew there was only one answer to.

They would get married in a beautiful ceremony, his broad shoulders hugged by an expensive Italian suit, and she’d wear a big, puffy white dress because that’s what he liked and she didn’t know what she liked anymore. When her dad walked her down the aisle Paige would cry and so would Bob, he’d give her hand a squeeze and let her go. Azzi would be her maid of honor, she’d wear a light purple dress, because, as she would have reminded her, purple was her favourite colour. 

At the reception Azzi would give a beautiful speech and both her and Paige would cry and cry and cry. When the festivities had come to a close, the best friend’s would hug and Paige would hold on for a second too long and Azzi would let her. She would know it didn’t mean anything though, because when they pulled apart Azzi would join hands with her husband’s best friend and they’d giggle their way down to their room. 

Then, a few months later, it would be Azzi’s turn to get married. Even in that nightmare world, Azzi planned her wedding exactly as it would have been in any universe. She would wear a silky white dress, off the shoulder, her curls grown out below her shoulders. Tim would walk her down the aisle to a live orchestral version of ‘Here comes the bride’ and Paige would choke back tears in a frilly pink dress as she watched. She’d wince as they kissed, try and fail to keep her composure through her maid of honor speech, then go back to her room and throw up.

She would be two handsome boys and a beautiful girl deep when she realised that she was trapped. She’d know that she had two options, either run away and leave them all behind, the house in the hamptons, the bake sales, the party-hosting, or stay and spend the rest of her life miserable, throwing herself into the lives of her kids and the upkeep of their homes. Of course, she’d pick the latter, no matter what. She would never dream of building a home only to leave it in ruins. But it would ruin her, it really would. Azzi would live next door with her husband and their lovely twin girls and their goldendoodle. They would be happy and they would fuck into their seventies and Paige would listen to a wine-drunk eighty-something Azzi ramble about how good their lives had been, how lucky they both were to have married the men of their dreams and live next to their best friend, then Paige would smile along before excusing herself to go scream into her pillow.

It would only be on her deathbed, surrounded by her loved ones, Azzi holding one hand, her husband holding the other, that she would realise the issue was her. Everyone else in the equation was happy, she was dragging herself down. There would be nothing left for her to want, she had it all, yet it just wasn’t enough for her. Just before her last breath she would squeeze her best friend’s hand and whisper a weak “I love you” into the sterile air and hope that Azzi knew it was for her, for her bestest friend - then again, by then it wouldn’t matter anymore.

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To put it simply, marriage was her worst nightmare. When she was stressed she would actually dream of situations similar to that, a whole, horrible life stretched out before her eyes. Usually she’d wake up screaming somewhere between her first kid and her third annual not-for-profit gala. 

She had always been dead-set on not marrying, but on that day, when girls could marry girls, Paige realised that maybe marriage wouldn’t be too bad.

But then she thought better, pushed that thought to the back of her mind, and doubled-down on her anti-marriage agenda.

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18th of DECEMBER, 2014

OAKRIDGE, VIRGINIA

Paige Bueckers and Azzi Fudd were thirteen years old when they attended the world's worst sleepover.

Shelley McCarthy had invited ten girls over to her house to celebrate her thirteenth birthday. 

She called it a ‘house’ but it was more a mansion than anything else. It was three stories tall, made of sandstone brick and marble, seven beds and baths, and had what was likely the biggest pool in all of America.

Even though winter was just around the corner and there was a bitter chill hanging in the air, Shelley had insisted on swimming and everyone was too scared to disagree with her.

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They were all in Shelley’s room getting changed - all except Azzi who had texted to say that she would be there in twenty minutes.

Paige was in the corner of the room, a comfortable distance away from everyone else. It was crazy to her that a room could be so large that ten girls could fit in together and she wasn’t within a five foot radius of any of them. 

Growing up for such a large part of her life with just her dad meant she often felt awkward when she was surrounded by girls doing girly things. Azzi was different, they could do anything in front of the other and it wouldn’t change a thing, they were best friends forever and always. But Azzi wasn’t there yet, so she was staring at the ground as she shuffled awkwardly into her swimsuit.

When she turned around she stood face to face with Shelley. Paige smiled at her, unsure of what to say. She had no idea why Shelley had invited her, they only spoke because of Azzi, so she had guessed that she was just being nice and making sure she didn’t feel left out.

Shelley did not smile back at her, instead she looked at Paige like she had killed her puppy and shat in her obnoxiously sized pool.

“Like what you see?” Maya sneered from her spot by the window.

Paige didn’t understand what was happening, what was she talking about? “W-what?”

Shelley smirked before taking a step forward, so close Paige could smell her peanut-buttery breath, “She asked, do you like what you see?”

Everything had become weird so fast, as she glanced around the room she noticed all the girls laughing at her.

“Don’t stand so close to her! She’ll probably try to kiss you!” Tiera snickered from somewhere behind them.

“I-I-I don’t want to kiss her!” Paige half-yelled, desperately trying to think of a way to defend herself.

Before anyone could respond the door opened and Azzi came through smiling. Azzi was like sunshine personified, the tension in the room suddenly dispersed. Everyone returned to normal, except for Paige who was stuck in her spot, staring down at the floor trying to make sense of what was happening. 

Azzi had been at the door the whole time, listening in to the girls torture Paige. It made her sick, it really did. She had always thought that Paige might be gay, but she would never ever in a million years push the topic with her. It was possible she was completely off base with her assumption, and it was also very possible that Paige hadn’t even thought of it herself. Most of all though, Azzi knew that if she was, Paige would tell her when she was ready. 

Azzi begrudgingly pulled Shelley into a hug and gave an obligatory ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ squeal before walking to stand in front of Paige. Her eyes were trained on the ground, arms crossed across her chest protectively. 

Azzi brought her hand up and rubbed soft lines on Paige’s arm, “Everything alright?”

Paige smiled back weakly, “Yeah, glad you’re here now.”

“Me too P. Me too.” Azzi gave her arm a quick squeeze before shimmying her clothes off and declaring herself ready to swim.

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Paige made a point of not saying a single word to anyone in the pool - except for Azzi of course. It was easy enough to do considering the fact that every other girl there was ignoring her. To make the situation even worse Paige absolutely hated swimming, and it showed she was a horrid swimmer. Azzi said she had a gift for making treading water look like the hardest thing in the world.

She was glad no one was talking to her, partially because it meant she could fully focus on keeping herself afloat beside Azzi but mostly because she was pretty sure no one had anything nice to say to her anyways.

Luckily they made it all the way through the cake -three layers of vanilla with buttercream and strawberry jam between- and pizza without any incident. Paige was hoping that Azzi being there would be enough to deter any nasty comments, but she had a feeling her presence wouldn’t be enough.

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It turned out Paige was right.

They were sitting in a circle on the massive fluffy rug on Shelley’s floor when someone decided that truth or dare would be a fun idea.

A few rounds had passed before Maya made Paige her target. The second she called out her name the room filled with tension, all but Azzi watching in amusement, seemingly in on some inside joke the other two weren’t.

“Truth or Dare?” The question was charged. It was either pick dare and be forced to kiss someone who’d act like she tried to hook up with them, or she would pick truth and be asked some embarrassing, mean question. 

She went for the lesser of the two evils. “Truth I guess…” 

Everyone was wide-eyed in anticipation. Paige’s breath had suddenly grown shallow and fast, she felt like the room was closing in on her. She turned to look at Azzi hoping for some reassurance, but her best friend looked just as concerned as her. 

“Hmmm, have you ever kissed anyone?” 

It sounded like an innocent question, unlike what Paige had been waiting for so she decided to answer honestly.

“No I haven’t.” That answer would’ve been good enough, the game probably would’ve continued and she would’ve had more time to prepare before she was asked again. But instead of leaving it at that she decided to continue, “I don’t really like any of the boys at our school.”

Laughter broke out amongst the girls at that. Neither Paige nor Azzi had ever heard laughs of that sort. They were high pitched like hyenas and seemed to echo off the tall, stark white walls of the room. Azzi shuffled closer, their arms touching, and for a moment Paige felt like it would all be okay.

Finally once they calmed down, Tiera chimed in, “So you don’t like the boys. What about the girls?”

Now that was the type of question she had been expecting. “I don’t like girls, I’m not a lesbian.” She tried her hardest to sound sure of herself, to get them to back off, but her words came out wobbly and unsure. She could feel Azzi’s eyes on her, watching her as she spoke.

“Sure you’re not…” Shelley said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not!” She hissed back, this only made the girls laugh harder. A massive lump had formed in her throat, why did this have to happen to her?

“Shut up, you guys aren’t funny.” Azzi had come to her rescue. Of course she had. No one had her back like her best friend. She was so strong, so willing to defend Paige. 

“God chill out Azzi, what are you her girlfriend?” Maya joked.

“Ha! Paige totally likes Azzi, don’t you Paige?” Paige wasn’t even sure who was talking to her anymore. She felt like the room was closing in on her, like she was being squeezed to death, with the way things were going she thought death by wall strangulation might be the best way to go..

“What? No I don’t!” Paige had turned bright red, her face burning hot. She didn’t cry much anymore, but if she did she would be in absolute hysterics at that moment. All she heard when she spoke was another round of raucous giggles and “Yes you do!”s.

“C’mon Paige, I’ll call my dad, he can pick us up” Azzi had risen to her feet and was grabbing onto Paige’s arm trying to pull her up as well. When she finally stood up they both turned to their bags and shoved their stuff inside as quickly as they could.

The whole time a chorus of insults are being thrown at them. Although ‘them’ was really just Paige.

“Yeah, well good fuckin’ riddance anyway!”

“No one even wanted you here in the first place Paige!”

“You only got invited cause my mom feels bad for you!”

“We’re better off anyway without you trying to kiss us!”

Maybe in a normal situation she would have time to think about what they were saying, to let the hurt sink in. But her situation was anything but normal, and she was too busy being upset about all the other stuff to care about what they had to say about her.

The two girls shuffled out of the bedroom down the glossy marble hallways, past the kitchen where Azzi called out with a cordial “Thank you for having us!” before they leant against the massive mailbox at the front of the McCarthy house.

They waited in silence. Azzi thought of consoling Paige but then she thought better. The blonde was radiating something unreadable. Still, Azzi could tell that whatever thoughts were swirling around in Paige’s mind, were not ones she was interested in sharing.

Tim pulled up after five minutes of waiting, Azzi’s text hadn’t told him why they needed to be picked up, just that it was really urgent. He was going to ask them what had happened, but when he saw Paige and Azzi’s look of concern he decided to wait till the morning.

It was only a short, ten minute drive home, but as the three all sat dead silent in the car it felt more like fifty. The whole time Paige had been severely engrossed in her thoughts. When Azzi turned to look at her she thought that the older girl was staring intensely out the window, but in reality she was staring intensely at herself. When they pulled into the Fudd’s driveway Paige did something that surprised both Azzi and Tim, she mumbled a goodbye and a ‘Thank you’ before walking off down the street.

Azzi knew for sure that Paige was really troubled by whatever thoughts she was having, and she had an inkling that it had a lot to do with the things Shelley and her friends had said.

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NOTE: I hope you guys enjoyed this one, the next two might come a little quicker than normal cause I've already got the plot and stuff for them fully mapped out. Like I said before feel free to leave feedback and stuff in my inbox or in my messages.

Thanks again for reading :)

[scarletwinterxx]

hearts don't break around here - jeon wonwoo imagine

hiiiii ~ this is a long one.... and kinda one of my favorite from all my works this year😅🤭😊 hope you have fun reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it🥺 i said before the exes to lovers trope isn't my fave but i loved it here hahah

for my other svt fics, check them here

if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank you🥺💛

genre: fluff, kinda angst (?), exes to lovers, they get steamy but that's the most i can write HAHA consume responsibly.

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

If you count how many times people have told you it was a mistake to sign those papers, you would probably need more than 10 fingers. That’s more than the reasons why the two of you divorced in the first place. 

After only 3 years of marriage, you and your ex-husband finally pulled the plug on your relationship and filed for divorce. Was it the ending you expected when you accepted his ring? No. But life happens and sometimes it just doesn’t go the way you want it to. It was a quick separation, both parties arrived at an agreement. You get the apartment, even though he was the one who bought it for the two of you, he knew you loved that place and even though he can’t share it with you anymore at least he knows you’ll be safe there. He gets exactly what he had before he married you. 

You believe a part of you, the tiniest part, was still hoping the two of you would make it work. But that wasn’t enough for you to stay. You were unhappy and so was he. It felt empty coming to a place you thought you could call home only to be welcomed with coldness. 

It’s been a year since then. At first it was weird for you, not having him around when you’ve been with him for almost a decade. Well you’ve known him for decade. The two of you dated for 5 years before he popped the question, 3 years of marriage, a decade of friendship. 

That’s a title you can never take away from Wonwoo. He was your friend, a close confidante. One of your reasons why you fell in love with him, he knew how to make you feel like you’re heard. The same way you knew just how to listen to him even without the words. 

When things were too much, you made it bearable for him. You silenced the chaos in his mind, you were his solace. 

To this day he still thinks of you as one of his closest friends, it might seem weird to some that he’s still friends with his ex-wife but that’s who you’ve always been to him. The two of you didn’t work out as a couple but you’re great friends. 

Sometimes he thinks that friendship blurs the lines of your failed marriage. The two of you are aware it’s not normal that you still have a key to each other’s place or how Wonwoo would always ask you out to grab dinner with him or how you would drop off some of his stuff at work when he forgets it. It’s like the two of you are still together minus the commitment and legalities, or at least that’s how your friends describe it. 

You’re never afraid to speak your mind when you’re with him. 

Now you’re on your way to his apartment, you could’ve called him but you think it’s not a conversation you can start over the phone. It’s easier to talk to him when he’s right in front of you, at least you’ll get to see his reaction real time instead of hearing silence over the phone. 

Instead of barging in or using your key that he gave you, you ring the doorbell instead. From the other side of the door, Wonwoo wonders who the unexpected visitor is. Usually the concierge would call if it’s a stranger, so it could only mean either one of his friends or you. And sure enough when he checks the screen there you are waiting outside his door, rocking back and forth on your heels. Something you do when you’re nervous or have something to say to him. 

He strides towards the door, unlocking it to let you in. The moment his eyes met yours he knew he was right, you had something to say to him and he’s not sure whether it’s good or bad news. 

“You’re home, why are you home? I was kinda hoping you weren’t here” you mumbled

“Then why come here?”

“I was taking my chances, gonna let fate decide what to do. Since you’re here I guess I just have to say it” now you’re just rambling. Another habit you have when you’re nervous. He follows behind you as you walk inside his apartment. You don’t come here that often but you’ve been here a couple of times before. 

Wonwoo takes a seat on the sofa while his eyes stay on you, watching you prance around his living room while clearly having an internal debate. 

You take deep breath before facing him, readying yourself to say what you came here for

“Now, before you say anything I need you to hear me out. I know this will sound crazy, I might sound crazy but believe me I’ve thought this through. I already lost so many nights thinking about this okay but I need you to know I am sure about this. I need you to remember that” you tell him

“Okay” he simply answers

“I want a baby, and I was thinking if you would agree to be the father”

Wonwoo’s not sure if he heard the right words or if he’s dreaming right now. The day the two of you sat down and agreed about the divorce is easier to comprehend than this.

This… this was definitely not what he was expecting to hear. 

“Hear me out, okay. I know what I’m talking about, don’t look at me like I’ve gone insane. I want to have a kid, believe me I’ve looked at many options. Adoption, surrogacy, donors. There’s nothing wrong with those but it just doesn’t feel right for me. My doctor told me to do what feels right and something I’m sure of and this is it”

He still hasn't said anything which is worrying you, maybe it was too much to ask him. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

“You want to have my baby?” 

This makes you look away from his stare for second, feeling that nervousness erupt in your chest

“To make it simple, yes” you answer him, “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

“I didn’t say anything” Wonwoo tells you, leaning back on his seat while taking it all in. 

The two of you have talked about having kids before. That was a possibility the two of you never said no to. You’re lucky enough to be in a place in your lives to comfortably start a family and be able to provide for your children but your marriage never reached that stage. He didn’t expect to experience this stage of your lives together, especially now that you’re no longer married. 

You take the seat on the other side of the room, shoulders slumping downwards. “You probably didn’t expect that, sorry for ambushing you like that. I’m not pressuring you, you can say no”

“And then what?”

“What do you mean?” you ask back

“If I say no, then what will you do? You seem like you’re set on this plan and you’re never the one to only have a plan A. Some people settle with only having a plan B but not you, you’re not stopping until you run out of letters to use” and he only speaks the truth. 

What he doesn’t know is that fact doesn’t apply to him. He’s not wrong, but not right either. You always have a backup plan, you don’t like going into things unprepared.But not when it comes to him.

It wasn’t in your plan to fall in love with him but you did. 

It wasn’t in your plan to marry him but you did.

It wasn’t in your plan that you had to end it with him either. 

When you’re with Wonwoo you never need a second choice, he is always first. Everything else is an afterthought. 

“I dunno, back to the drawing board I guess���

He chuckles at your answer, ever the witty one. “Are you sure you’re not just having baby fever right now?”

“No, why would I even come here and ask you if I wasn’t serious?”

“Ovulating then?”

“Asshole” you grab a throw pillow to throw at him which he quickly dodges, letting out a laugh

“I’m being serious here, Wonwoo” “So am I, a baby is a serious topic. It’s a life we’re talking about”

“I know, I’m aware”

“Let’s say I say agree, how will that work?”

“What do you mean? Are you asking me how babies are made?”

“I know how babies are made, I can make you one like you’re asking right now. I’m talking about what happens after the baby is born, what happens then?”

You blink back at him, to be honest you didn’t think that far. You were half sure he was going to say no. 

“If you’re asking about child support, you don’t-” “I’m not going to abandon my child like that”

“Hypothetical child, they’re not even here” you interrupt him

“I’m not going to abandon my hypothetical child, I’ll be there if you want me to be. He or she can have my name if you want, or not totally up to you. If you’re asking me to do this then I want you to know I’ll be all in. I’m not going to knock you up and leave you”

“Geez, that sounds…”

“Now, does that answer your question?” he ask you, leaning forward resting his arms on his knees

You nod like a child that’s been told off, looking at the carpet instead of him. You can hear him chuckle from the other side of the room before he stands up, “A few minutes ago you were asking me for a child, now you’re all shy”

“To be fair I thought you were going to say no and say I’m crazy” you shrug your shoulder

“Oh you’re not wrong, you are crazy” he walks towards the kitchen to grab a drink for you and him, he can hear your footsteps behind him

“Hey!”

He smiles upon hearing your protest, even with his back turned to you he can still picture your annoyed pout. 

Wonwoo takes two bottles of water from the fridge, opening one before passing it over to you and opening the second one for him. 

“So, how do we do this? Do we go to your doctor?”

“For what?”

“The part where we make our hypothetical child into a real child”

“I’m already seeing my doctor, she said everything’s okay. I’m healthy, all’s good” you say 

“Okay, that’s good but I’m talking about the actual baby making part” 

“I don’t get it”

The two of you look at each other, waiting for the other one to speak. You’re the one who break the short silence “Are you sure you know how babies are made? Do I have to give you the sex talk?” 

This makes him laugh, like a big loud laugh making you more confused before Wonwoo speaks again “Oh sorry, I get it now. I just thought we were going to the hospital to do it”

“Why? I’m good, like I said. Aren’t you?” genuinely confused by his statement

“I’m clean if that’s what you’re asking” he tells you

“I wasn’t but good to know” you answer, you can feel him still looking at you like he’s waiting for your answer “What?” you ask him

“Should I be the one giving you the sex talk or you already know how babies are made?” he smirks at you.

It takes everything in you to not throw the drink at his head, clearly he’s teasing you. He’s very knowledgeable at how and which buttons to push when it comes to you. You try to pretend you’re not blushing at his words so you just take another gulp of water from your bottle before screwing the cap back on.

“Haven’t thought that part out but we can do it, we’re two consenting adults” you clear your throat as you explain while your ex-husband’s smile grow bigger by the second as he watch you try to put it into words.

“So just so we’re clear, you’re saying yes?” you ask him

He nods “Yes”

This is the part you didn’t think through at all. Now that he agreed you’re not sure how to take the next step. 

He notices you’re getting lost in thought, taking this moment to look at you. He doesn’t see you as often as before but it’s good to see you doing okay. You look healthy and happy, that’s all that matters to him anyways. 

“Hey, you okay?” he walks over to the other side of the kitchen island to stand beside you. 

Knocking his shoulder with yours, making you look up at him. You’ve been in this exact place before, many times. In many different eras of your life. Wonwoo has always been right beside you, even now as you take the next big step he’s still here with you and for that you’re thankful. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with this? I feel like I just pressured into doing it” you mumbled

“I’m an adult who can think for himself, believe me you didn’t pressure me into anything” he assures you “Are you backing out now?” he asks

“No” 

“Then what? Talk to me” his voice now more gentle

“I was just thinking how this is getting very real, that maybe a few months from now I… we’ll have a child. I’ve always wanted that” you say with a small smile

“Sorry” that’s all he could say to you but you just shake your head at him

“We’re not doing that, we agreed to never apologize for that. It was a decision we both made, and we’re okay now. We’re better now”

He looks at you, reading your eyes as you read his. “What?” you ask, almost whispering the word out

He just smiles again at you before leaning down, you let your eyes close as you feel his lips on your forehead. An act of affection he loves doing to you. 

After that you don’t say much, he walks you out to your car. He knows it’s been a long night for you, you must’ve been overthinking for a while before asking him so he lets you rest. He doesn’t say it outloud but he’s already planning to take care of the rest. 

“I have a question” he says when the two of you are outside, standing beside your car

“Mhm?”

“Since we’re doing this, you have to tell me you’re okay with…” “It’s okay, Wonwoo. If it’s permission you’re asking, here you go” you giggle

He reaches behind you to open the driver’s side for you, “Was I being too awkward?”

“Kinda, and it’s not like we’ve never done it before” you joke, he just rolls his eyes at you

“Goodnight, drive safe. Text me when you get home”

You thought after getting all of that out of your chest you would finally fall asleep with no trouble, but oh boy you’re wrong. It just kept you up all night, making you overthink things that haven't even happened yet. 

Not to mention Wonwoo is also taking over your thoughts. It’s silly, you’re a grown adult thinking about your ex-husband like you’re a schoolgirl having her first crush. You would be lying to yourself if you say he doesn’t affect you anymore, even if you try your hardest Wonwoo will always always have a way to your heart. How could he not when he drew the map out himself. 

The next few days went by like normal, the two of you busy with your own lives that the whole topic of baby making became overshadowed by other stuff. 

It’s not rare for Wonwoo to go over at your place, it used to be his’ too. When you said you’re the one moving out after the divorce he was very adamant that you stay, it hurt to see him packing his stuff but it’s part of the process. There are days though that he comes to visit, either to cook and eat dinner with you or grab stuff he has yet to pick up or some lame excuse he made up so he can spend some free time with you. 

He would never admit that, not after separating with you. He doesn’t want you to overthink things like he is, it’s enough he gets to miss you even though you don’t feel the same. 

Oftentimes when he does feel that way, he finds himself knocking on your door and you always open the door for him. 

Like tonight, it’s a Friday night. Instead of going out with his colleagues for dinner, he came here to cook and have dinner with you. He prefers your cooking anyways and you always make cookies just the way he likes it. Not too sweet, enough to satisfy his cravings when he has them. 

“Try this, it’s a new recipe I found online” you call for him, holding a piece of bread you baked. Instead of taking it from your hand, he takes a bite straight from your grasp. Gripping your wrist gently to hold it steady as he chews the freshly baked pastry

“Mhm, that’s good. Not too sweet, I like it”

“Right? I didn’t use as much sugar as the recipe said since I know you hate it when it’s too sweet. Good thing it came out okay” you smile to yourself, slicing a few more pieces to share between the two of you. He watches you fondly, listening to the words that flow freely like you didn’t even think twice about thinking about him. 

The two of you eat dinner and desert before settling on the living room couch to watch a movie. He’s sitting on one end while you’re sitting on the other, your feet resting across the space between the two of you. At first there was no contact between the two of you, then his hand rest on your ankles but it never moved. 

You were too focused on the movie to notice Wonwoo looking at his phone when suddenly you hear him let out a chuckle making you look over at him

“What?” you ask

“The guys went out tonight, as expected Dino’s drunk. Look at this, he won’t go in the taxi again” you scoot closer, folding your legs to sit next to him to look at his screen. When you see the picture you also laugh at the scene

“Looks fun, why didn't you go with them? Could’ve told me you were busy tonight”

“Not really in the mood to drink tonight, Mingyu asked me to go golfing with him tomorrow so I’ll see them tomorrow anyways” he shrugs, turning his phone off before throwing it back on the coffee table. Throwing his arm behind the couch, he looks over at you

“Aren’t you tired yet? You had a busy week”

“How did you know?”

“You didn’t message me as much” he answers

“It’s weird enough we’re still hanging out, now you’re saying I don’t text you enough. Why did we spend that much on the divorce then?” you joke, he laughs too. The two of you share those jokes back and forth, sometimes some of your friends hear it and say you two are indeed weird. 

“You’re calling me weird when you’re the one who asked me to have a baby with you”

“And you said yes! Which makes you just as weird as me” you argue back

He just stares at you, it’s like time slowed down all around him and all he can focus on is you. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you, and the thought that he can be closer to you is sending chills down his spine. 

“Earth to Wonwoo” you wave a hand in front of his face, he takes that hand and holds it in his. Intertwining your fingers with his. He misses seeing the ring on yours and his fingers, he can’t tell you now but he still has them hidden in a drawer back at his place. It will only ever be yours anyways. 

“You know for an ex, we really don’t really know the concept of personal space” you mumble, voice suddenly getting more quiet as you look back right into his eyes

“It’s overrated, and like you said I have permission to invade this personal space. You can tell me to stop if you want” he breathes out.

You don’t know when or how but now he’s much closer to you. Your noses touching each other, you can feel his breath on your lips. 

“Why? You haven’t even done anything” you answer back, he smirks at you leaning even closer until his lips is one breath away from yours

“I’m about to do everything, you sure about that”

“Shut up and give me a baby”

And that he did. He kissed you, after a long long long time you finally felt his lips again. 

You feel it against your own, you feel it all over your skin, you feel him everywhere. Wherever his skin touched yours is like fire burning you but in the most pleasurable way. 

You’re not sure what it feels like to ascend to heaven but tonight Wonwoo gave you a glimpse of it. It’s not the first time for the two of you but tonight feels different, maybe because it’s been so long or maybe because there’s a reason behind this but everything feels so much more. 

Everytime he dove right in you, it’s like he’s making it his sole purpose to make you remember this. That you’ll never forget how he feels against you, in you. 

The rest of the night was a blur to you, too lost in a blissful haze. You remember being on the couch then the next you’re on your bed. Then you remember taking a not so quick shower before ending back on your bed where you fell asleep finally. 

And it’s the best sleep you had in months. When you wake up you can feel your muscles screaming in pain, feeling sore all over. 

Mentally sending a curse to Wonwoo, who you notice is nowhere to be seen. 

“Oh you’re awake, here I ordered breakfast for us” speaking of the devil, he walks into the bedroom already dressed in jeans and a plain shirt he found in the closet. 

You sit upright, wincing when you move your legs under the duvet which Wonwoo notices. Biting his lips to suppress a smile

“Wipe that smirk off before I strangle you”

“Thought you’re into that”

“Shut up” You say, hugging the sheets against your chest as you look at the food he laid in front of you. Taking a sip of the coffee first, iced vanilla latte. He still knows your favorites. 

“Forgot to ask before we got carried away, are you off of any birth control?” 

“Mhm, have been since the beginning of this year. Wasn’t really with anyone so I asked my doctor if it was okay. I wanted to rest my body from all of that”

“You haven’t been with anyone?” he asks, not meaning to pry on your personal life but he already asked before he can think twice about it

You look at him, shaking your head slowly “No, I was very busy with work and it’s not really in my mind at the moment. Have you? Not that you that bothers me or anything” you mumble

He watches you pick on the piece of strawberry on the plate, he takes the fork from you before eating the fruit knowing you don’t like it then he slices the french toast for you before passing the fork to you. 

“Don’t want to piss you off this early in the morning”

“So you have” you stare at him, the annoyed expression on your face evident. This makes Wonwoo smile and let out a laugh “You’re right, we’re bad at the whole personal space thing” he teases you

“Whatever, you can go if you have somewhere you need to be” you grumbled

How can he walk out now when you’re acting all cute. When will be the next time he’ll get to see you like this, the morning sun glowing against your bare skin. His marks still evident on your skin, unbeknownst to you. Hair all messy from last night, and your lips oh god those lips. He can get lost in them again if you let him. 

“I’m going out with Mingyu, you can call your cousin to ask” he says, taking his phone from the bedside table and passing it to you but you brush him off earning another laugh from the man

“I’m gonna go shower, want to join me?” he asks so casually

The coffee you were drinking goes down the wrong pipe making you cough, Wonwoo scoots over to gently tap you on the back “You good?”

“It’s too early for this” you scowl at him when you see the teasing smile he had on. Smiley Wonwoo has always been your favorite and you’re always weak when you see him this happy. You’re not really annoyed at him, just a bit annoyed at how he knows how much power he still has over you

“We’ll be quick. I need to go or else Gyu will talk my ear off for being late”

“Heard that before” you chuckle “You know what, nevermind. I’ll just tell him I was busy, I can be late for today. You like long showers right?”

Suddenly the sheets are pulled away from your body and his arms are under you, carrying you towards the bathroom “Wonwoo, wait I didn’t mean it like that. Wonwoo” you screech as he takes you inside. 

More mornings and nights like that happen often, the two of you forgetting the piece of paper you both signed a year ago signaling the end of your marriage. Most times he finds himself waking up on your bed and you safely tucked by his side. 

There’s this lingering fear in his mind that if he gets used to this again then what will he do when it’s gone. What if one day he has to wake up again, alone. The thought alone makes him restless, he pulls you closer to him and you make yourself comfortable on his chest. Seeking his warmth like it’s a need. And that there is enough to shush his worries. 

The initial goal got lost in your head until your phone notified you that it’s supposed to be that time of the month again. You double check the date and indeed the reminder was right but no sign of your red friend. 

It’s probably too soon to tell but you hurry home and lock yourself in the bathroom where a few hours later Wonwoo found you. 

“Where are you? Are you- hey, there you are. You had me worried” Wonwoo kneels in front of you, brushing the hair away from your face to look at you “Talk to me”

You don’t say anything, you just look at the counter making Wonwoo follow your gaze. There he sees a few boxes of pregnancy tests opened. 

“Did you check it?” he asks but you shake your head

“Do you want me to?” you nod your head. 

He gives your knee a squeeze before standing up, with careful steps he walks over the counter to see the results. There’s a few on the counter all lined up with, he flips them over. 

You watch him instead of peeking at what the tests say, the expression on his face was enough for you to decipher what they say

“Oh, baby” he breathes out, smiling at you before engulfing you in a hug and there you break down. The tears flowing down your face. 

“Shhh it’s okay, we wanted this right? It’s a good thing” he whispers against your hair

Wiping the tears away, you step out of his embrace then walk out of the bathroom

Wonwoo follows behind you, “Hey, talk to me”

“Is this really what you want? What if you’re just saying that because of me, what if you feel trapped once the baby is here? What if this isn’t even what you wanted? We already separated right, what the hell are we even doing”

He rushes in front of you, holding your face in his hands, “Hey hey don’t say that. You’re not trapping me, and I wanted this too. I’ve wanted this for a long time but we just… it didn’t work out for us the first time. I’m sorry we had to go through that but I’m not leaving you again. Whatever you want me to be, wherever you want me to be that’s where you’ll find me” he assures you, wiping the tears as they cascade down your cheeks

“What if the love you’re feeling for me is only because of this? I want us to be together again in the right time, for the right reasons and not just because we will have a child together”

He smiles at you, never stopping from wiping the tears aways and he never will. From now on he vows to never let a tear slip down from your eyes ever again, there wouldn’t be a single thing he wouldn’t know how to fix if it meant he’ll never see you cry again. 

For you he’d try and fix this. 

He pulls the sleeve of his sweater inside out, showing the end of the sleeve to you. There you see the familiar simple stitch in the shape of a heart. The purple thread bright against the black fabric of his sweatshirt. 

“Remember when you sew this on all my clothes? You know I still have all of them. Remember what you told me? You stitched them there so I’ll never forget how I have your heart on my sleeve. We didn’t say it alot but I know how much you loved me. And me well…I love you, I have always loved you and I never stopped. I don’t think I can, not ever. If you think right now isn’t the right time for us then I’ll wait. We can walk together side by side until we get there, I’m not leaving you. Never again. And when this child comes, it’ll be the three of us. Like I told you, if we’re doing this I’m all in”

You’re not looking at him, still looking at the tiny purple heart on his sleeve.

“You think.. I should do that to the baby’s clothes too?” you ask, finally looking at him with teary eyes and pouty lips. Wonwoo smiles at you, giving you the gentlest kiss on the forehead over and over again

“Ofcourse, you can. We’ll do whatever you want”

“So we’re really doing this?” you breath out, finally it’s starting to sink in

“We’re doing this” he nods his head

And that marks the start of your story once again. Your new beginning with him. And there’s no better happy ending than that. 

[sgiandubh]

Wonder if Sam will take his new legal American bride to Italy? He will be married, although unlike Caitriona's it will be a fake marriage, by 31 Dec. He needs the residency.

Dear Married Anon,

Three possibilities on this one: a) you watched 90 Days Fiancé for way too long and with no attention to details; b) you think I am an idiot, with no legal knowledge or experience; c) you are an idiot, with no legal knowledge or experience.

Your question comes with two strong biases, too: a) that you somehow are privy to such nonsense and b) the old & stale fake vs. organic marriage refrain, regarding C (that, by the way, proves that I did hit a nerve).

I am not very sure to whom exactly do you think you are talking, here. But if I do know one thing is that you, honey, are a Mighty Twat. If you wanted to be consistent with the crap the Gay Crowd spreads around, you could have gone for 'he needs a more solid/credible beard than that', instead of the completely inane 'he needs the residency'. What is he, Burmese? Oh, FFS. And by 'Burmese', I mean exactly this: are his life/personal safety in clear and present danger, in his home country, because of his ethnicity and/or political views? The answer is no, and he could still use his right of asylum. Does he need the US residency in order to secure a better paid job for himself? The answer is no: lots of other avenues can be explored and are routinely being used by thousands of foreign actors/performing artists, in order to legally work and reside in the US. I have even mentioned it before:

(Full October 2023 post, here: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/729979831079649280/mordor-says-he-returned-only-for-visa-reasons)

But let's suppose even a nanoshred of what you wrote could technically be correct. When you are an US citizen and you want to bring your significant other to live with you there, you basically are offered two options:

Scenario One: you want to bring your fiancé(e) to the US and get married there. You will need the K-1 visa, as anyone even remotely familiar with that reality show I mentioned knows. That doesn't exactly click with a hastily cobbled 'new American bride' he would marry until December 31 and this is why, according to the US Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) own website:

[Source, LOL: https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/guides/A2en.pdf]

'You have met each other in person within 2 years before you file this petition'. Who is it, then? The whore? She is French. The chatty influencer? She's 'so over him' (FFS, LOL). Alice 'he's mine and will never be yours'' Panikian? If you think so, you are aff yer heid on cheap gin. Hm? Ashley Hearn? Met her too late and you all know it. A secret lover? ROFLMAO. And psst: Raya girls are just for fun, they don't think homestead. Cross my heart, Anon.

Current and official USCIS average processing time for fiancé petitions at their (logically) California Service Center is:

But it could be as long as 26 months and a half, if he decides to settle for a Vermont beauty (LOOOOOOOL).

You should also know a couple of other things, Anon. First thing is he will not be able to enter the US under the type of visa he currently more than probably holds, in order to do so - that would be a heavily punished immigration fraud:

Mhm. Restrictions on his ability to future immigration benefits/permanent residence, fine and imprisonment. I hope I do not need to further develop, on this one.

Last thing you should have taken into consideration before writing this bullshit is that the fiancé visa would restrict his ability to go back to his own home country during all the waiting time. Why would an actor refuse work opportunities in the UK or in Europe for the sake of a fake marriage, as you called it yourself? Oh, if you only had a brain!

Need I say more about the grueling in-person cross-check interviews ? You should watch a wonderful movie starring Gerard Depardieu (a pig alright, but he is perfect, in there) and Andie MacDowell: it's even called Green Card, LOL. Few things changed since 1990, and if anything, the screw got only tighter. Not to mention the fact he will be unable to work in the US during the waiting process and she will have to prove she can sponsor/provide for him! ROFLMAO.

Scenario Two: you get married abroad and want to bring your spouse to the US, afterwards. You will need to file the Form I-130 (Petition for Alien Relative):

[Source: https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/guides/A1en.pdf]

All this does, in reality, is put the spouse in line with thousands of other similar applicants. Residency will be granted only after extensive background checks and this is where I would like to stop for a while, Anon. You are with the Gay Crowd, right? Then how does this logically click with your long established talking point about his 'once very public gay life? Ah: he isn't gay? ROFLMAO. You see, being gay is a bit like being pregnant, Anon: you can't be 'just a little bit pregnant' and you certainly can't be 'just a little bit gay', either. Spare me the drivel 🙄. Kindly note those background checks are dead serious and could result in deportation - thought you should know, before you spew idiocies again.

Onwards with that residency thing:

If S were in Scotland/the UK when the 'legal fake bride' would file in the petition, he would not be allowed to come visit or work in the US: why would an actor be forced to turn down lucrative opportunities in Hollywood or elsewhere in the country, for the sake of bearding or circus only? And while S could technically apply for permanent resident status if he already were in the US at the time of the application for I-130, he would still not be able to work and therefore must be sponsored by the 'legal bride'. ROFLMAO, again.

I mean, this is so ridiculous I could cry. He would be invited to come to the US only after the petition is approved, which does not click with your suggested timeline and the seeming 'emergency situation' ('he NEEDS the residency', your ask shouts at the Entire Universe) . Why the haste? Just because you wanted to somehow shoehorn it in, somewhere before Inauguration Day? I have no words, but my paunch hurts with laughing right now.

Finally let's have a look at processing current times:

But it could go as long as...

I cannot stress enough that permanent residency will be granted only after the processing time is completed.

Why, oh, why would someone so inextricably complicate his entire existence in such an idiotic fashion, Anon? And finally, give me and yourself a break and read the damn political room, here, too. I will not elaborate, but I surely hope you do not live under a rock.

I rest my case, thank you, fuck off.

[voxisdaddy]

You

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Angst

Featuring: A lil bit of Alastor

"I really wanted it to be you. So badly. Until I understood that you didn't want it to be me." -b00zell

“I really wanted it to be you”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Never in the decades that Vox has been in hell that he thought he’d find someone who just gets him the way you do. It almost blew him away. It’s ironic he’s asking but-were you hypnotizing him? No. Of course not. But no one could deny that you had him wrapped around your finger. And you barely had to do anything. You were just… you. The way you smiled, laughed, carried yourself, spoke, touched him, ect. Everything you did was just normal things and yet it seemed like it meant everything because it was you. He remembers one night when you showed up in casual clothing to a fancy dinner date. He remembers how embarrassed and apologetic you were-the name of the restaurant didn’t seem all that impressive at the time. And despite your initial worries that you embarrassed your perfectionist boyfriend that night, the cyan electric current that flashed into a heart shape from the tips of his antenna’s was enough to make you feel flustered for a completely different reason. Hell is forever. And since that night, he felt his forever with you would be the most enjoyable.

“So badly.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ VoxTek and Vox’s status as an Overlord just kept growing and growing which meant things change. For the better-he thought. Of course his beloved wanted to see him be as successful as can be. But as the success kept going, the more your lives seemed to not matter as it once did before. Weekly date nights turned into monthly date nights. No longer would you go to bed together and wake up either entangled in each other’s limbs or one of you snuggling into the other. Good morning kisses before he leaves for work? Yeah… good luck catching him before he’s out the door. Home cooked meals? Sweetheart-why bother when he can just order the highest quality meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? His mood swings worsened-if even possible-and soon coming home to a partner that’s already sleeping would just make him more agitated. Marriage was casually brought up by Velvette-something about wanting to make wedding dresses for an upcoming fashion show-he doesn’t quite remember. His inner fans were working hard in his head as the thought of you in a wedding dress kept him deep in thought. Perhaps rings binding you two together legally would reunite some spark. Yes. Surely it would!

“Until I understood,”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was some dumb argument. Something small and meaningless. But the stress and constant work days Vox faced paired with your loneliness and bitterness that started growing however long ago seemed to have erupted. Things were said. Tears were shed-mainly from you. When things calmed down, Vox foolishly thought you’d be in his arms all night as you had makeup sex just like all the times previously-wait what do you mean you’re done? Their was no more shouting and tears that night but everything remained tense and heavy. Very bitterly and painfully Vox huffed as you packed a bag. You’re not serious. You’ll come back to him and everything will be okay.

“that you didn’t want it to be me.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It had been several years. For months he tried everything to win you back until one day you just vanished. That was impossible. He had cameras everywhere in the Pride Ring. He would have noticed. An extermination wasn’t due for months at that point so you wouldn’t have been taken. What happened? One day Alastor showed up after being gone doing god knows what. Vox was of course angry about Alastor but couldn’t help and be filled with little rejoice when he finally saw you on his monitors again. That was rather short lived when rumours spread that Alastor had taken a lover and had spent 7 years on honeymoon with them. You know… Vox is incapable of crying, at least in the typical sense. His head wouldn’t allow it. So then how come seeing that ring wrapped around your finger make him feel like he could do the literal impossible?

“I really wanted it to be you…”

I hope I did okay for my first one lol. This took longer to come out than I thought it would. I’m only a smidge over 24 hours so it still counts right, RIGHT?!???? I’m kidding. Thanks for reading!

💕🌸

[bethanydelleman]

Could you rank the Austen main couples from the least to the most likely to have sex before they are married?

Least to Most Likely:

Edmund Bertram & Fanny Price: It is all very proper. They probably have sex with their clothes on after the wedding.

Fitzwilliam Darcy & Elizabeth Bennet: She would have been down, he wasn't. He later congratulates himself on his excellent self control.

Edward Ferrars & Elinor Dashwood: There were definitely smooches, but after that roller coaster of a courtship, Elinor wants things legal and in writing. Also, just because something feels good doesn't make it right, MARIANNE.

Henry Tilney & Catherine Morland: he is a gentleman, but it was really the long distance relationship that prevented them from doing anything. Was there some racy content in those letters? I'd love to know...

George Knightley & Emma Woodhouse: Donwell is right there. You can walk right over...

Charles Bingley & Jane Bennet: "Bingley, who wanted to be alone with Jane" I see your intentions, sir. I see them!

Colonel Brandon & Marianne Dashwood: "I have feelings," said she, "let's indulge them." If something feels good, that makes it moral, right? Romanticism says yes, ELINOR.

Captain Frederick Wentworth & Anne Elliot: Do not care about anything except getting married as quickly as possible. Banns take far too long when you've been waiting 8 years and Napoleon just escaped from Elba. Let's get this DONE.

BONUS:

Lucy Steele & Robert/Edward Ferrars: No way in hell with either of them. She's too cunning to give up her best card before she has the man secure.

Frank Chuchill & Jane Fairfax: Not in a million years, no matter how many times Frank makes puppy eyes.

Robert Martin & Harriet Smith: Abbey Mill farm is like, right there. You can walk over. It has a hay barn...

Related: First Kiss for each Austen Heroine Couple

Also, marriage and birth records show that premarital sex was pretty common. Or else the Regency era had magically good premature baby care 😉

[kyleemclauren]

"Rednote heavily censors LGBTQ+ content!" As opposed to Facebook, whose moderation polices explicitly carve out exceptions to harass trans people; or Twitter, where the word "cisgender" is considered hate speech. Gay marriage only became legal across the country in mid-2015, let's not pretend we've always been some progressive utopia.

Biden, Trump, and Obama each deported over a million people. The border internment camps still exist. Even including the million+ Uyghur Muslims in detention, China's incarceration rate is still lower than ours. We're using prison slaves to fight the California wildfires right now.

It's possible to say a bunch of things in the US, but that's not because we have great free speech. It's because our censorship works by making it difficult to talk about an issue, not impossible. Our newspapers and social media are owned by giant corporations and billionaires. Pro-Luigi content is widely suppressed, pro-Palestine content is widely suppressed, and anything more left wing than reformist capitalism is routinely suppressed. There are no privacy laws, your car is spying on you. Your phone is selling your location. Your TV is selling your watch history. Your purchase history is for sale. Your search history is for sale. Your political party registration and whether or not you voted is for sale.

In the United States schools are banning books, credit card companies are banning porn, and YouTube will take away your income if you mention suicide or swear. God help you if you play a few seconds of copyrighted music.

A counsel of nine unelected people are absolute dictators here. They gave the president absolute immunity too, for anything he can credibly claim was an official act. Congress is elected by legal gerrymandering. Police officers have nearly absolute immunity to commit crimes. Billionaires can do whatever the hell they want. I don't know where the citizen democracy is when marijuana usage is still technically a felony, despite almost 90% of the country wanting it made legal.

There isn't jack shit we get for any of this, either. Our gun laws are atrocious. Our homelessness problem is out of hand. We don't get livable cities, transit, or infrastructure. We certainly don't have health care. Our job market is trash. Our wages are trash. Our food prices are outrageous. We barely fund our schools or pay our teachers. But we spend almost a trillion dollars a year on our military! I tried for a good 20 minutes to write a followup sentence for that wasn't just incoherent swearing, and this note is the best I came up with.

All of this is the tip of the iceberg, it's corrupt all the way down and there is no set of reforms that can possibly fix it. It needs to be torn down, and built again from scratch. There is no alternative, all we are going through is pointless suffering so billionaires can get richer. How long are we going to wait!? What signs are we looking for that something needs to change? How much more obviously broken does the system need to be before people are ready to leave?

We are in an abusive relationship, and we need to get out, now. China will keep my data safe from the US government, I'm damn sure of that.

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Pls More general sfw headcanons of cooper and reader? Ghoul or pre war whichever you prefer honestly.

General SFW Prewar!Cooper Howard Headcanons 2

(I'll do some Ghoul SFW in a follow-up; this got away from me a little.)

Clearly he enjoys film and theatre, but he has a fairly secret soft spot for musicals. Pretty much any musical will pique his interest, and you'll spend a fair few date nights out seeing shows. You find it very endearing that he wants to share his interests with you. He's got an especially soft spot for some of the older, cheesier musicals though; hope you're ready to see "Brigadoon" like a half dozen times! He's got that one on tape.

"Old Yeller" is banned media in the Howard household (as are most things about dogs who die), as well as books like "The Velveteen Rabbit", which he read to Janey when she was four and never truly recovered from. Coop cries like a baby every time and gets so embarrassed. You once asked Janey if she'd ever seen it, and she tells you, rather conspiratorially, that she once watched it at a friend's house.

The old man actually cries quite easily when he's moved by something. He'll try to hide it away, but every once in a while he fully loses it (tbh it's the 'child death' type stuff that really upsets him; to this day, he's still a little mad at Barb for showing him "Bridge to Terabithia" on family movie night and thinking he would like it). You think it's the sweetest thing and you always reassure him that it's nothing to be ashamed of.

I imagine that, like a good, engaged father, he takes a particular interest in Janey's likes and hobbies; if you ask him what she likes, he can give you an entire list of things you can engage with her on, every single one of them accurate and up-to-date. If Janey really likes a book series, he'll read it (or maybe listen to it if he's short on time). If she really likes a band, y'all have fun at the concert! Every group comes through LA so you may be going to several concerts a year eventually. He even knows who her favorite member is! He only falls in love with you more when you do the same with her.

He's a true romantic at heart; despite being really torn up about the divorce and thinking he'll never fall in love again, he does, and hard. It's not long before he (unbelievably, to him especially) finds himself wanting to propose. He waits a while, though, wanting to feel out the dynamic between you and Janey, worrying about how Barb will feel when she ultimately finds out. He doesn't want to be married to her anymore, but he still cares for her, and he doesn't want to hurt her.

I'd like to think that he and Barb had a pretty nice, large wedding (as I've said before, likely at an older age than many of their peers, even if, canonically, it seems they were already dating during Cooper's military service; they both strike me as the type to want to wait until they were better established to actually marry). Not anything too crazy, but since Cooper's career was really starting to take off, she did want to use the wedding as an opportunity to rub elbows, so there were quite a few people in attendance that he flat-out didn't know. It didn't bother him much at the time; Barb always loved an opportunity to network and Coop could never deny her anything. But, given a chance to do it over, I think he'd do things differently.

With you, he'd wanna go to the courthouse. He'd be happy to have a nice, private ceremony eventually, maybe a little vow renewal for your one-year down on the beach in Mexico or something. But when you get legally married it'll be at the courthouse, just the two of you and Janey. You wouldn't have it any other way.

You try your best to keep it under wraps, but, well...marriage licenses are a matter of public record, and there are people whose whole job is to unearth things like that. The fallout (ha) from it may be stronger than you anticipated, but, at the end of the day, you have one another, and you're happy with that.

[pricegouge]

All this talk about bro soap and bro Simon….

Bro!Simon who’s quite a bit older than you. Was able to move out before your dad remarried— he tried to take you with him, but he couldn’t win the legal battle to take guardianship over you. And of course, your dad wouldn’t let him see you anymore after that.

Cue your dad’s marriage to Soap’s mom, so you get a new big brother to look out for you. Ended up being your whole world. Closer in age, you’ve just become an adult when he moves out so he takes you with him— your parents are too busy screaming at each other and slamming doors to even really notice.

You don’t realize it at the time, but you’re pretty intensely Trauma bonded. He doesn’t wanna let you out of his sight. You don’t like it when he goes out late. Pretty staunchly stagnates the chances of either of you dating.

And you still do the same things you used to. Still sleep in the same bed a lot of nights, lie practically on top of each other while watching movies. Doesn’t take long before he realizes there are more ways he can take care of you.

Of course Simon catches up to you when he finds out you’ve moved out. Nothing to stay between you now, right? Fuck, he didn’t realize how pretty you’d gotten in all the years since he’d seen you. He’s intent on taking you in with him the way he’d tried to do before.

And then he sees you with Johnny. Feels uncomfortable from how the roiling jealously twists in his gut. But somehow, when he digs a little deeper, finds out that he’s the son of the woman your father married, it quells that anger. It shouldn’t, he should be angry that this fucker probably took advantage of you, stole two roles in your life out from under him, but the more he thinks of Johnny being in the picture the more right it seems.

After all, you are so needy. And you’ve got two hands. Simon loves you more than anything.

But maybe he’s always wanted a brother, too.

-🦷

i don't have much to add cause this is already great/am tired, but the spectrum of emotions poor simon goes through toward the end there had me cackling.

😠 that's my sister!

oh wait, that's his sister too. i guess that makes it okay.

hold on 😳

😵‍💫

[rosewoodcafe]

Wildest Dreams

Years after your death, Ominis still remembers you.

[Fluff, Angst, and Smut]

[MDNI]

Ominis x Reader

I still remember the feel of you under my palms; every curve, every line.

Also on A03 and Wattpad !!

My wine glass sat empty on the table as I stood against the window. My wife is long gone, staying somewhere in the manor that wasn’t our bed. Not like I cared much anyway where she was. This marriage was a legal binding, nothing more.

I didn’t feel drunk enough, my mind was still not able to picture you, the last sensations of your skin under my fingertips.

~

When you came to Hogwarts, I felt nothing different, another girl who would swoon for Sebastian. Nothing more. In some aspects I was correct, with Sebastian even taking an immediate interest in you as well, but at the end of the day you always stood on my side. You told Sebastian to inform me of what he was doing, you aided me in telling him how the dark arts were wrong. I was beyond grateful when you saved Sebastian in that catacomb, without succumbing to darkness yourself.

~

That following year, when we returned to school, I had a new found love for you. Something in me clicked, and you were the only thing that felt right.

Sebastian asked you out first, pulling your attention away. When I heard of his feelings I gave up, knowing I had no chance to win your affections over him, but when you denied him a spark of hope lit within me.

“Why did you tell him no?” I asked on the way to class, eager to know why the man that most girls would kill to go out with was rejected by you.

“I- well I have someone else in mind.” You laughed, and merlin did it make my heart beat faster than it ever had. “I’m just waiting for him to ask.”

I felt a smile grow across my face in disbelief. She was waiting for someone else, and I hoped it was me.

~

That week Sebastian had gotten me to work up the courage to ask you out, a simple date to Hogsmeade, but I was beyond worried for your answer.

“Even if she doesn’t like you like that she’ll still go to Hogsmeade with you.” Sebastian grumbled. “Stop worrying so much about it.”

“I can’t!” I said as I paced our dorm room. “How do you expect me to stop worrying when this could change the whole trajectory of our friendship.”

“I know because it wasn't with mine, she still talks to me as if we are perfectly normal.”

“Ugh! You are different!”

“You’re impossible Ominis,” Sebastian said, “let's head to dinner so you can ask her.”

That walk was the worst, the panic was sitting in my throat and at any moment threatened to come out. We had gotten there before you, sitting at the normal spot at the Slytherin table. You came in with Poppy, and Sebastian told me you seemed excited. I hoped I wasn’t about to spoil your mood. The weight of the bench shifted slightly as you sat next to me.

“Hello boys!” You said gleefully.

“Hey.” Sebastian responded.

“Hello…” I spoke, cautious to not say too much. 

“You seem a bit quiet Ominis, everything okay?” You asked, touching your hand to my arm. I felt like fire was being shot through my body.

“I- uh- ahem,” I choked back. Sebastian chuckled and kicked my leg slightly under the table. “I do have something to ask you.”

“What might that be?”

“Would you- um.” I paused, taking a breath in. “Would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me after dinner?”

I listened to any sort of queue from you, something to tell me what your reaction was.

“I would love to!” You said  happily, and went back to eating as if my heart wasn’t exploding.

~

That night I waited for you by the front doors, our date beginning as soon as we both got dressed. The hall was nearly silent, and it racked my head into oblivion. I could hear you enter, and the quiet footsteps leading up to me.

“You look so handsome Ominis.” You had said as you got closer. I was wearing normal slacks with a white button down, something simple yet formal, to fit whatever you wanted this to be.

“Thank you…” I paused my heart thumping in my ears. “I bet you look beautiful as well.”

“Hm, well here.” You said as you grabbed my hand. Your own hand was soft and slender, and when you touched my hand to a comforting fabric I ran my fingers up along the stitch. “You can feel the dress, so that way you can actually mean it when you say I look beautiful.” You laughed and I swear you sound just like an angel.

“I do mean when I say you are beautiful.” I said to you, my hand resting on your waist, taking in the fabric under my palm. “I mean it regardless if I can see you or not.”

The walk to The Three Broomsticks was filled with your laughter, the sound of your voice lifting every worry I’ve ever had in my life. My hand rested on your lower back, you guiding us both there, my wand tucked away. It felt so freeing to just be. No expectations, all you wanted was my company, and that was all I asked from you as well.

That night you danced freely with me in that tavern, the music swaying your hips and spinning your footsteps. I wished I could’ve seen your smile. When we eventually left, the stumble back to the castle left us breathless, as the sun began to rise we watched it.

“Ominis…” You said, your voice laced with the sweetest sugars mankind has ever known. “I think I love you.”

“I-” Everything in me had frozen, my heart beating out of my chest, my fingertips on fire as I held you up. It took everything in me to swallow and speak, instead of standing in shock. “I- I love you too, more than you know.” 

You wrapped your arms around my neck, tugging lightly at the back of my hair. Your warm breath brushed my ear as you whispered; 

“Show me how much.”

I remember taking your face in my hands, pressing your lips against mine, the sweet lingering taste of butterbeer making everything seem unreal. My hands tangled in your hair as you pressed closer to me, it was intoxicating.

From that day on you were mine, and I held you every day and night, loving you loudly. I knew I would love you till the earth crumbled and the sun went dark.

~

Your scream woke me from the deep sleep I was in, and I desperately searched for you. Curled on the floor you were gripping at anything you could, which meant me when you found me next to her. I cried as I held you, your body withering in itself. Eventually your muscles tired themselves out, falling asleep in my arms that cradled you. That morning you awoke, tired from the near sleepless night you had just had.

“Why are you treating me like this?” You asked at breakfast. 

“I- do you not remember last night?” I asked in return.

“What happened? I know I didn’t sleep well, but that isn’t abnormal for me.”

“You… you were screaming,” I whispered, I tried to keep my voice steady. “It was as if you were in immense pain, as if you were being tortured.”

You didn’t speak, instead opting for silence between us. I didn’t push you for further answers, as I knew you would come to me when you were ready.

~

“I can’t do anything about it!” I cried out. A letter from my family came in during our seventh year, stating that I was to be married off after graduation. “I am forced by my family, love! There's nothing I can change!”

“Ominis you can! Tell them that you love someone else! Tell them that you do not love her!” You yelled back, frustration was bleeding through. The emotions were high between us both. “Tell them that you love… me.”

“I- you know I can’t.” I said, letting tears fall. “You know that they will want to kill you.”

You didn’t respond, and I wondered if perhaps you had left, given up on me and you, as if I was a hopeless case.

“I want to be yours Ominis.” You said finally.

“What-”

“I want you to take me,” you spoke again, cutting me off. “If I can’t marry you, then I want to be your first, and you, mine.”

“Are you-”

“Yes, I’m sure.” You placed a hand on my cheek. “It’s not like I’ll love anyone like I love you anyways. I want it to be you that ruins me.” 

I placed my hands on your cheek, pulling you in, just like that night. You were desperate, pulling at my tie, undoing it with haste.

“My love…” I said against your lips.

“Yes?”

“Let me take your time with you, please.”

You melted to my touch, and I took that as my yes. I picked you up, wrapping your legs around me, our lips never parting. I placed you softly onto the bed that you conjured the first night we were too tired to leave the Room of Requirement. It was our bed, one that I had held you in the dead of winter, where we cried, where we kissed. 

I kissed down your jaw, your neck, feeling my way around your clothes body with my fingers. You responded eagerly to my touch, soft breaths escaping your sweet lips. If I had no self control I could’ve taken you easily, the sounds you made fueling every part of me. I unbuttoned your shirt, slowly revealing the skin beneath, soft and warm. Wet kisses were placed, and you shivered. I was fast to end your torture, pulling your shirt off completely as I ravished the upper part of your body, the body that would forever be mine to cherish.  You pulled at my own shirt, tugging it off to reveal my own bare chest.

“You have constellations…” You said sweetly, kissing spots of my skin.

“Constellations? What do you mean by that love?”

“Beauty marks- they form patterns, like the stars,” you replied, “like you are your own universe.”

Something in me clicked, I pulled your skirt down, kissing your stomach down to your thighs. The taste of you still sits on my tongue, and I would give anything to taste something as sweet as you again. You squirmed under my touch, the feeling of your warmth against my mouth nearly sending me over the edge. I could feel the heat radiating off your skin, your impatience as I undid my own shirt and pants, the quiet excitement between us. I had thoughts of how it would feel, to be buried in you, to feel the warmth that is so often described as heaven, and in all truth, it was pure blissful heaven. Being close to you, while hearing you gasp my name out, it was the closest thing to an angel's voice I could imagine. You wrapped tightly around me, your fingers tangled into the back of my hair.

“I love you Ominis.” You moaned out, as I pushed deeper in you.

“I love you more my angel.”

~

I was sitting in my room when I heard it. Screams.

I ran out to the main hall, where your voice carried.

“YOU WILL GIVE HIM TO ME!” You screamed out. Gaunt Manor echoing your voice. We planned to run away together two days ago, but my father had caught on, keeping me trapped in this loveless home.

My father screamed, and then went silent. The pain afterward burned in my eyes, the once black world turned colorful, dropping me to my knees as everything came into view. I blinked, trying to take in what I was looking at, trying to keep myself from being sick. You stood at the bottom of the steps, my fathers bloodied body mere feet away.

“Ominis?” 

I looked at you more intently, and my god were you the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. A true angel from the heavens. But I didn’t even get to say goodbye before you were ripped away from me.

“AVADA KEDAVRA” Marvolo yelled, entering the house from the doors that stood tall behind you. The spell hit you in the back, your face in horror as you fell to the floor. A blood curdling scream left me as I watched your lifeless body drop, pathetically crawling to you, holding you one last time. 

You spoke, but I could barely focus. My father had cursed me, how you knew I didn't know. Everything was spinning, out of focus, except for you. My angel.

“You’re sad for this pathetic use of a witch.” Marvolo snarled, walking past my fallen love and I. “You will marry that girl that father said you would, since it was his last orders, but I am head of the Gaunt family now.”

I couldn’t think straight, nothing went the way it was supposed too, you were never supposed to die. I held you closer to me, trying to remember how you looked before you died.

~

I have lived many years without you, but I still remember the sun setting, the beautiful dress you wore before your untimely death. My wife does not know it, but our child is named after you, the name of the woman I loved. You will never be forgotten, and I will always hold you close, even if it is only in my dreams.

[adrianicsea]

it may seem a bit trite to do so, but i realized i don’t make all that many REALLY personal posts about my life on this blog anymore, and as new years’ eve draws near, i wanted to share some of the highlights of what i’ve seen and done this year with you all! the way i use this blog may have changed, but it’s still the longest and most self-reflective diary of my lifetime so far 🩵

in the beginning of the year, one of the resolutions i made to myself was to get engaged to my now-husband! we celebrated our fifth anniversary as a couple in february, and in august, with the help of all of our closest friends, i was able to make our engagement night really special and something that we’ll both remember forever. he had no idea it was coming, which really made me happy, because i feel like i struggle to plan surprises!

while i did NOT make a new years’ resolution to get fully MARRIED, the outcome of the presidential election motivated us both to at least get legally married before the year ends, as we live in a state where marriage equality will immediately go away if obergefell v hodges falls in the supreme court. so we got married! our full, originally-planned ceremony still waits for us next autumn, but i’m still very excited and feel very safe to have it in legal writing. my insurance will also be much better now!!

on the note of insurance, i finally got top surgery this year! it’s something that i’ve known i wanted for more than half of my life, but it was never really financially (or emotionally tbh) accessible for me until now! i was pretty scared, as i’d never had any sort of major surgery before, but i’ve been SO happy and at home in my body ever since!! i was also able to get through the surgery and the recovery without my parents even knowing about it, which was a really great confidence booster for me— to see that i AM able now to get on in life and that i’ve found a support system who can help me with the things that my parents can’t or won’t.

march of this year marked my first full year of consistent therapy, and i’m nearly at two years now! being able to see an lgbt-specialized therapist has made a HUGE difference in my ability to really be vulnerable and discuss things with my therapist, and i feel as though i’m really starting to see how therapy has positively affected me in the ways that i think, view my feelings, and communicate with others. i feel like i understand my emotions better now than i ever have, and like i’m more confident and less afraid of standing up for myself and having difficult, potentially conflicting conversations!

i’ve been working on understanding and accepting my autism, and with seeing how it has affected my childhood and teenage years. i thought that the initial shock and reconciliation of realizing i’m autistic would be the only hurdle, but now i’m starting to see that there’s a lot of pain and emotional work that goes it to FULLY accepting it as a part of yourself and seeing the pain that it caused you (or at least, this is how i’ve felt about it).

partially related to the above, i’ve been making more of an effort to try new things, be more social, and to step out of my comfort zone in ways that aren’t TOO frightening for me! this year i went camping for the first time ever, went to my first renaissance faire, and formed a LOT of new friendships with all sorts of people, both in my city and online. i’ve also been trying to stop diluting/masking so much of myself in person, and while that still feels like a work in progress, it’s been really wonderful to find that people in the real world DON’T automatically write me off as weird if i go to the bar with earplugs or talk at length about my love and study of horror movies.

this may sound a bit paradoxical after some of what i’ve said already, but i feel like i’ve become closer to my parents and improved my relationship with them this year. we have a… challenging relationship due to differences in religious opinion, political views, and some generational differences in how we view mental health and emotional openness. i really resented my parents for a long time for their (inadvertent) emotional neglect of me as a child, but after having a really rewarding conversation with them about my transition and how their refusal to accept it has affected me, i feel like i was FINALLY able to understand and forgive them for a lot of the things i’ve been carrying against them all this time. we still don’t have the perfect relationship, and there are lots of things i hope my parents will grow and improve on (like STILL misgendering and deadnaming me after all this time lmao), but i feel like now i’m able to better understand where they’re coming from and to meet them where they’re at, so to speak. it’s always been difficult for me to accept that i might just never have the warm, emotionally effusive relationship i used to idealize having with them, but this year i feel like i’ve finally been able to make peace with the fact that they just aren’t those kinds of people. and that’s okay!

and here’s some other “smaller” things i did this year that made it feel a little fuller and brighter:

got a new tattoo, my most complex one yet! for the tv show that brought my husband and i together 🥹

got to see both MY favorite band AND my husband’s favorite band in our home city in the same year! i even got to be on the barricade for the first time at one of these shows!

got a piece of my writing published (and printed!!) in a fan zine!

got REALLY into final fantasy xiv, which has been my most-played game of the year and has become both a fun way to bond with my friends who also play AND a really nice emotional grounding tool!

i bought a five-year journal at the beginning of this year, and with the exception of a few days (maybe 7 or less total), i’ve filled out every day of it this year! it’s my first time ever completing one year of a planner/journal like that :)

did the daily sudoku puzzle on my sudoku app every day this year, and within the last three months, started doing the puzzmo daily crossword every day as well!

improved some of my art techniques, and learned a lot of techniques and technical skills for the digital art program i use!

started making more of an effort to spend time with my childhood friend of 20+ years, with whom i’d drifted apart a bit recently!

started learning how to typeset, print, and bind my own books, and even printed/bound my first big-ish book to give as a christmas gift this year!

sought out more movies from outside the US and/or from before the 1970s to watch. still not as many as i’d like, but i’m happy to have begun diversifying my film habits :)

learned to cook shakshuka, which has gone on to become one of my favorite meals to cook at home and a huge comfort food!!

my husband and i started going to the gym, as much as our busy schedule will allow us to :)

when i look back at 2024, one of the big regrets that sticks out to me is that i didn’t do more writing— ESPECIALLY sleeping with ghosts, my longest and most emotionally-invested project and one i REALLY want to make sure i finish. but when i think about how much growing and learning and DOING i did this year, it’s hard to be too mad at myself for not writing more! maybe it’s just that i’m getting older, but i’ve spent a lot of my 20s so far feeling like a child in suspended development, wondering when i was finally going to feel like a “real” adult. 2024 has FINALLY been that year for me— i can see the progress i still need to make, but i can also see all the HUGE steps i’ve made this year to become a more fully-realized version of myself, and now i feel excited and capable to continue on that journey!! hopefully including finishing SWG, as well as finishing/starting on some other writing ideas i’ve had.

if you’ve read all this, thank you so much for taking the time, and for following me on this blog! whether we’re longtime friends, recent mutuals, or even if we haven’t spoken, i hope that this year has been kind to you, and even if it wasn’t, i hope that 2025 is a better, easier year for you 🫂🩵

[morsmvrdre]

Fic Rec Masterlist (UPDATED AUGUST 2024)

all of these have some kind of explicit content. PLEASE read tags. i'm not responsible for you reading something you don't like because you overlooked a tag.

(in order of ship [dramione, nottpott, jegulus, and wolfstar] and then word count. new additions are categorized with an asterisk.)

Dramione

your lonely calls to me - senlinyu (3,085)

“Less than a year post-war, trainee healer Hermione Granger visits Azkaban to perform volunteer medical check-ups and finds something she isn't intended to see, and has no choice but to do something about it.”

Break the Ward - thisisnotadance (6,499)

“So, you like this skirt then?” She asked with a smirk. “They should throw me in Azkaban for the things I want to do to you in that skirt.”

The Wizard from A.U.R.O.R. - Wanderingfair (6,836)

“OR The one where Hermione asks a simple favour as she and Draco confront their unresolved feelings for each other immediately before an important mission.”

The Seduction - senlinyu (11,686)

“Hermione’s expression grew indignant but Draco ignored it and pressed on. “I am trying to seduce you,” he said, staring her straight in the eye. Her indignation faded as her mouth dropped open and her eyes slowly grew round.”

Season Pass (To This Ass) - mightbewriting (16,390)

“[In which Hermione dumps a Quidditch fan and dates a Quidditch player instead. Spite is a beautiful motivator.]”

Ardent Bonds - Musyc (16,741)

“Maybe it was wrong to think about this, maybe it was horrible to even consider, but if Draco Malfoy liked to dominate, she couldn't stop herself from picturing it. Picturing him.”

Sated Thirst - Notawriter_17 (17,415)

“A story told in three parts. Ron. Theo. Draco. Hermione's journey into the world of BDSM and sexual enlightenment.”

Seven Times Seven - steely (21,589)

“Hermione had expected some level of resistance from Draco at her incarceration, but not to this extreme. He was unraveling himself while desperately trying to keep her together.”

* The Tie that Binds - EvergreenTuesdays (22,526)

"Narcissa Malfoy struck a bargain with Albus Dumbledore before he died—that at an unspecified pivotal moment, she would turn the tide of the war, ensuring Voldemort’s downfall. In exchange, her son Draco would be married to the Golden Girl immediately following the war, guaranteeing her family’s return to grace." (READ TAGS!)

Five Months Until Summer - allofthelights11 (27,464)

“She's tried three times over holiday break and it hasn't worked out. Now she has a little more than five months until summer when she can try again.”

Ten Out of Ten - morriganmercy (61,559

“In which Hermione is determined to find a loophole to free her from a forced marriage with Draco Malfoy. But with only two weeks until they are legally required to consummate, it would be irresponsible not to prepare for every contingency.”

Lose Control - madrose_writing (70,082)

“In Elysium, that girl behind the white mask, begging for permission to come undone could be the Golden Girl. That man behind the black mask making her beg could be the Boy Who Had No Choice. In Elysium, anonymity is key. If you could be anyone, who would you be?”

Private Tutor - allofthelights11 (77,407)

“That time Hermione offered to give Draco Malfoy some much-needed sexual experience.”

Wait and Hope - mightbewriting (94,946)

“[In which Hermione loses the last six year's worth of her memories, including the entirety of her relationship and marriage to Draco.]”

A Season for Setting Fires - mightbewriting (95,639)

“[In which a soulmate bond appears while Hermione is tortured at Malfoy Manor. Canon divergent from that moment onward.]”

Between Certifiable and Bliss - HeyJude19 (97,712)

“In the ensuing years, he did not need to constantly remember that blissful, impossible dream. He further did not need Potter bursting into his mostly turned-around life to embroil him in a conspiracy at Azkaban. And he definitely did not need to embark on a clandestine investigation into prisoner mistreatment with Hermione Granger.”

* FAILSAFE - Hypothetically (99,476)

"Professor McGonagall didn’t know that Hogwarts had a Failsafe. The Spell she used to protect the students triggered the castle to protect itself. It’s been creating labyrinths. Some of the loved ones of the missing ventured in, never to be seen again. It’s like they never left. Draco Lucius Malfoy, the verdict alteration comes with a stipulation that you must return for the rehabilitation of Hogwarts."

The Injury of Finally Knowing You - VanillaSage (123,751)

“10 years ago, tucked away in a secret room during their Eighth Year at Hogwarts, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy fell in love. 10 years later, the echoes of how that young love burned down still haunt them when, on the day of her divorce, Hermione stumbles upon her old flame once again.”

Meet Me In Dreamland - sinflower81 (126,169)

“A Post-Hogwarts fic in which Hermione and Draco fuck (a lot) without realizing it. Alternating POVs, kinky combos, and a dramatic, spice-driven plot.”

Rosemary for Remembrance - rubber_soul02 (167,789)

“A post-war, slow-burn, enemies to lovers Dramione story about healing, redemption, and second chances. Featuring a full cast of your favourite snarky Slytherins.”

Draco Malfoy and the Mortifying Ordeal of Being in Loveisthisselfcare (199,548)

“Hermione straddles the Muggle and Magical worlds as a medical researcher and Healer about to make a big discovery. Draco is an Auror assigned to protect her from forces unknown – to both of their displeasure.”

Bring Him To His Knees - Musyc (246,526)

“Draco is on the case of a murderer, but to investigate, he needs a fake relationship - and a kink club play partner. When Hermione volunteers to take the role, both do their best to maintain the lie without letting each other know the truth: neither of them are acting.”

A Game of High Stakes - In_Dreaming (263,110)

“In theory, the task is simple: kill Draco Malfoy. In practice, putting a curse through the Dark Lord's favoured lieutenant will take everything Hermione has―especially since he's trying to kill her, too. Even more so when the lines between them start to blur. Sometimes, the only way out is through.”

Manacled - senlinyu (370,515)

“Harry Potter is dead. In the aftermath of the war, in order to strengthen the might of the magical world, Voldemort enacts a repopulation effort. Hermione Granger has an Order secret, lost but hidden in her mind, so she is sent as an enslaved surrogate to the High Reeve until her mind can be cracked.” 

NottPott

Chaperones - RoseHarperMaxwell (5,561)

“I'm going to court Granger," Draco said around a mouthful of toothpaste. He spat into their sink and rinsed his mouth, leaning against the doorframe with a casual air that belied the enormity of such a statement. "We need you to be our chaperone." Theo closed his astronomy textbook, using a thumb to hold his place. "I'm sorry, what?” Draco nodded, as though he'd expected disbelief. "Courting Granger. That's something I'm doing now."

No Expectations - In_Dreams (6,963)

“To avoid attending Hermione's promotion dinner solo after a breakup, Harry agrees to a blind date for appearances only. But his resolve crumbles when his arranged date is the disdainfully gorgeous Theo Nott.”

Jegulus

Taking Care - Quietlemonhush (5,084)

“James learns lessons about how to love Regulus.”

The First Person You Loved - Anonymous (8,539)

“Regulus shows up at the Potters' house bleeding and hurt, which reveals something about James' relationship with him to Sirius.”

As if Through Water - third_crow (8,611)

“Or, Regulus learns he and James have more in common than he thought”

* pretty as a peach, bruised like one too - completefailure (29,976)

"From the moment Lord Voldemort had laid eyes upon a stiff backed and scared Regulus, he had been doomed. Sometimes the only way out is through." (READ TAGS!)

* definition of insanity - bizarrestars (54,800)

"(Or, the one where Regulus flirts a little too close to the sun and loves getting burned.)"

The Mystery of Pears - sonwar (89,958)

“In the cave, Regulus doesn’t beg for it to stop. He begs not be left behind, alone. Perhaps this is why, when Kreacher gives one last look over his shoulder and sees terrible, pale hands reaching for his master, he appears in a flash at Regulus’ side, clutches him by the elbow, and Apparates them both out of the cave, directly disobeying his master’s last order.”

Pathological People Pleaser - rweoutofthewoods (114,435)

“(OR: all it takes is a summer-long holiday in Italy, James Potter's teetering mental stability, a secret relationship, friends with benefits, Marlene’s secret, and enough stupidity and insecurity to go around for everything to come crashing down around them.)”

* To the boy who… - ibbsterkisster (238,799)

"Or; the one where Regulus gets forced out of hiding to face the world, make the right but painful decisions, and fights with more than just one Dark Lord." (READ TAGS!)

* chew me up, but don’t spit me out - damagecontrol (261,000)

"Or, this is a story about identity, addiction, self-expression, and love in all of the varying shapes they can take."

Wolfstar

* The Ink Around Our Scars - Written_Willis (10,876)

"Sirius is a tattoo artist that specializes in clients with scarring. In walks Remus Lupin and his damn eyes and flirty smirk causing Sirius to forget his own name. Add in some daddy Regulus and James, Barty and Evan being Barty and Evan, a bit of toddler Harry, and a touch of misunderstanding."

* Underglass - Anonymous (24,496)

"King of the low-down, lord of mud and everything beneath the surface—Remus Lupin is the king of sordid exchanges happening under the Death Eaters’ noses. Nobody has ever been able to make a feint at him and survive to tell the tale. But when an intruder drops in, unexpected and wholly disarming, everything tilts just so on its axis and might tumble the lot of it to ash."

that’s the art of getting by - sarewolf (40,459)

“What do you want me to do?” Remus says, tiredly. All he wants is to curl up on his bed. Smoke a pack of cigarettes. Get drunk. He can’t stop looking at Harry. “Remus...” Dumbledore is gentle. Remus hates when he has that tone. Hates that he knows it will hurt. “There is no one else left.” A bitter laugh escapes him. “So you’ll curse the poor thing with a werewolf for a guardian?”

* At The Healing Edge of Broken - heartofspells (191,322)

"Sirius is a pro football star who finds himself injured. Through a recommendation from Lily, Remus becomes his physiotherapist. Or: Sirius is flying high on success until it all crashes down around him, but he realizes that maybe crashing doesn't always mean the end to everything. Someone's there to throw him a life preserver. He only needs to open his eyes to find it." (READ TAGS!)

[lady-of-the-english]

Tommy and Grace and Marriage Part 1

Something that always struck when when originally watching, and then rewatching, Peaky Blinders was how much Tommy wanted to marry Grace and thus how resentful he was that "work" (i.e. Russians) crashed the day he'd been looking forward to for years.

We first get to see Tommy's desire back in 1919, in season 1, episode 5, after they sleep together. We see that he defines their relationship as a true partnership.

After sleeping with her and next to her, for the first time since the war, he doesn't "hear the shovels against the wall," and he asks her to "help me with everything. The whole fucking thing. Fucking life...business. I found you and you found me. We'll help each other."

Tommy offers both a plea and a promise. With Grace, he found a true sense of love, home, and safety. He is willing to be his most vulnerable with her. As "people look different at home," in seeing her there, he hopes and asks to stay. For the first time, "life" comes before "business" with Tommy. He wants to provide her with all that she gives him. With Grace, he has the strength and courage to truly live.

The episode thematically ends with "Bring it On" by Nick Cave," emphasizing his sense of feeling strongest with Grace with the following lyrics:

"This garden that I built for you/that you sit in now and yearn/I will never leave it dear/I could not bear to return/and find it all untended/with the trees all bended low/this garden is our home, dear/and I got nowhere else to go/So, bring it on/Bring it on/Every little tear/Bring it on/Every useless fear."

In the following episode, Tommy shares with Grace his fantasy and plans - that they will share a life and "home."

He promises her that at "the next family meeting, I'll make sure you're there." When Grace argues that she's not family, he says back, "That could change," implying a future proposal and marriage.

He continues that flirtation. When Grace asks when they can talk so she can confess to him, he teases her, saying, "Oh, is this how it's going to be, eh? You waiting at home for me, saying 'What time do you call this?'".

Seeing that Grace is upset as she is wiping away tears, Tommy walks it back, reassuring that "I was joking" and that "I'm not talking about marriage," but I think that is a lie.

I think he is absolutely is thinking about marriage and the rest of their lives together. And he is afraid that he is scaring her off.

When Grace tells him, "When you come back from the races, I won't be here," he asks, "What are you talking about?" But he doesn't let her answer.

He immediately jumps in with reassurances, trying to convince her to stay and be with him. He assumes that she is afraid of being with him and that the life he can offer her isn't one she is used to or interested in.

His own insecurities and plans come out: "Grace, I know you weren't born to be with a man like me. But I'm turning things around." He emphasizes that he's going off to get the "biggest legal racetrack syndicates in the country and I'm going to close down some of that other stuff."

He touches her face to get her full attention and asks her to "remember" that her contract is with a legal "real limited company," asserting that he'll keep her safe and away from the illegal business that he wants to get out himself.

When Grace replies that she "remembers everything," we see Tommy's full desperation. He swears, repeating, "I am going to make a success of this. I am going to make a success of it. I am."

And then he switches to what is most important to him about their relationship. If marriage scares her, then he asserts that "I'm not talking about marriage," as he is willing to wait for that. For he does stumble and hesitate after saying this. He trails off, saying, "I'm so..." as he doesn't know what to say, as marriage absolutely is what he was talking about at the start of this conversation.

Tommy gathers himself, defining the strengths of their relationship. As they hold hands, he reminds her that "we know each other. We can talk. We're the same."

The end of the season emphasizes Tommy's heartbreak and confusion, but also the love they still have for each other and how they still know each other.

When he returns to Grace, she asks, "What exactly can I say?...if I tell you who I really am?" Will it matter and change anything?

Tommy replies, "I think I know who you are" highlighting his uncertainty. He finally knows her true identity and motives for being there, but he still also knows the true her since she shot the IRA man (both in revenge for her father and fear of Tommy dying the same way in my opinion).

Grace reiterates that idea. She argues that they know and love the true versions of themselves and the rest is "circumstance" and "just uniform."

And Tommy does seem to accept that. When she tells him, "I love you," he believes it despite the betrayal and lies. He tells her, "away it goes," but doesn't argue that it wasn't real in the first place.

With that belief in their love, we still see how Tommy holds onto the fantasy of their future, even if it is one that he no longer sees as feasible, at least in the near future.

Where before, he assured Grace that he'd begin shutting down some of the illegal businesses, with the mess of Kimber and Campbell and the loss of Danny, that becomes a "someday." The hope is still there that "someday I will throw this gun in the canal," and with it the implication that they can have the life and marriage he dreams of.

He reassures her multiple times that he does love her even if they can't be together now. He says that "we can say" they love each other as much as they want "but there is still no chance."

In his closing letter, he confesses that he never "loved" an enemy before her and that the idea of going to New York to be with her is "interesting" and appealing. In his heartbreak, he reverts to putting business first. In telling her no, he cites "responsibilities" as the reason he must stay.

But even in telling her no, the hope of someday is still there. He tells her he used to flip a coin to help him make decisions, and "perhaps that is what I will do again." The decision he just made is one that can easily change "within three days, " as the love they have for each other is real.

He ends the letter reassuring her that he does believe that she loves him as "Polly is never wrong about matters of the heart," and with that, he offers her "all my love."

Thus, the desire to marry Grace is not dead or forgotten, and season 2 will show us that time, in fact, does heal these wounds that leave him uncertain and unable to commit right now.

[lightofraye]

I’ve had a number of followers ask me, more than once, if Jensen was so miserable in his marriage, why does he stay?

I usually respond that there are many variables that we just don’t know. It may be Danneel is using the children to hold him hostage, as many an abuser have been known to use children to manipulate their victims. (And if no children, pets are also used.)

It could be too costly. I have no idea if they have a prenuptial agreement in place (I hope he does but I doubt it…)

He may be waiting to establish residency in Connecticut as the state law requires being established for a year before allowing a divorce filing. We know that’s approaching soon.

He may just be resigned to it. Just because a couple stays together does not mean—in any shape or form—that they’re happy. Trust me, folks, staying together is not proof of being happy.

He may be waiting for the kids to be grown up. That’s a mistake many a couple make—children are incredibly perceptive and can tell when their parents aren’t happy or in love.

They may already be informally separated (meaning no legal filing of separation on file). Certainly the ice cream story sounds heavily like a father who was seeing his kids on visitation.

Then I came across this Buzzfeed article where they quoted some comments from Reddit. The Reddit topic was about insights in their unhappy marriage. The whole article and Reddit post are absolutely worth reading, but several caught my eye and I wanted to publicly share.

This one is tragic: “I am stuck in my marriage because he is blackmailing me saying he will reveal my past to family and relatives. If I argue, he becomes violent. I don’t want to be with him, but there is no one to help.”

Or this one: “Depending on your personality type, you can tend just to resign yourself to things over time. I am in a marriage where we feel more like friends than anything. Our strengths/weaknesses don’t really complement each other. I also somehow end up doing a solid 85%-90% of the work around here (I am in charge of finances, I take care of the dogs, I’m the one who knows how to fix things around the house, and be the one who would take the time to hire the right person to do it when it’s beyond me). I admit I resent it sometimes. But over the years, I don’t really bring it up anymore. I’ve just gotten… used to it.”

This one breaks my heart: “I am so ready to leave, but taking that first step feels so hard. Just finally sitting down and saying the 18 months of therapy and ‘work’ haven’t been working. I dislike the person he has become, and I see no future with him. It’s really the fear of the unknown that keeps me here. I keep reminding myself that I know ZERO divorced people who said they wish they hadn’t divorced, and most say they just wish they hadn’t waited so long. My kids are young enough that they won’t remember, and there is a long road to go on for new, better, happier memories to be made. It’s just finally saying I want to divorce, and I just can’t get it to come out of my mouth.”

And this one: “I work for a guy that has been married 60 years. He said he works 60 hours a week so he doesn’t have to be home with his wife.”*

*This one sounds familiar, no?

It’s never easy. Period. Abused or not, it’s never easy.