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hannibals-favourite-meal · 7 months ago

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Hi 👋🏻 Lou!! Congratulations 🎊🎉 on 6k!!

So how about Arranged Marriage w/ Simon?

Again congrats to 6k 🙃💛🦡

.⋆｡Give 'Em Hell｡⋆.

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x plus size reader

Your parents think you need to get married and settle down, so they called in a favour. A big military man of a husband might do you some good just not in the way they think

Warnings: arranged marriage, sort of sugar baby/daddy relationship, misogynist parents, future revenge, mention of hook-ups WC: 986

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You often wondered about the true scope of your family’s stupidity. Sure, there were moments in your childhood where you had the vivid thought that no one could be as ignorant and blatantly idiotic as your parents were but somehow, they had absolutely hit rock bottom of moronic decisions.

“What the fuck do you mean I’m getting married?” Your mother gasped.

“Watch your tone young lady, that is no way to speak to your parents.” She scolded as your father’s expression hardened. There was no question that your parents were ‘traditional’ believing that women were less than their male counterparts in every way but while they had constantly lectured you on those beliefs, they hadn’t gone so far as to inflict them upon you, until now at least. They even helped you and encouraged you through college!

“You’ve been running wild long enough, it’s time for you to do your duty,” you fought the urge to roll your eyes, “We’ve let you chase your silly little dreams but you’re getting older and your clock is ticking.” Your father clicked his tongue and reached for the tumbler of expensive bourbon on the table beside his recliner.

“We’ve picked out a good man!” Your mother chirped from her place on the expensive love seat next to your father, “He’s highly decorated in the military, he can give you a good life.”

“I don’t give a shit about that! I’m not marrying anybody! Period!” You snarled. Anger curled in your gut, turning your tone sour.

Your father’s glass slammed down onto the wood, making your mother flinch. “You will marry him or I will make your life a living hell. I make one call and no one will want to hire you, not even as a fucking garbage collector. You know the connections I have. Suck it up and be a responsible adult for once.”

——————

“I don’t want a husband.” The man across from you made a sound that you thought might have been a laugh. Simon, as you had learned from your parents, was a Lieutenant in a special ops task force. Never married, no family to speak of and copious amounts of money, your mother had gleefully added as she literally dragged you into the official-looking building where you would be meeting your future spouse.

He was by all means, an intimidating man. Almost 6 and a half feet tall and wearing a stupid balaclava with a skull on it, he looked more fitting being in a slasher movie than in a conference room negotiating marriage stipulations. His bulky, tattooed arms were crossed over his chest, somehow making him seem even bigger to you, as he leaned back in his chair.

“I don’t want a wife.” Your eyebrows furrowed at that.

“Then why are you here?”

His massive shoulders rolled back as his head tilted, cracking his neck. “Same as you— orders.” You hummed under your breath and forced your gaze away from his tanned arms and up to his eyes. He was obviously a quiet man but in no way did that intimidate you. He seemed more pissed off at your father who had so rudely guided (shoved) you into the room than he did at you.

You cleared your throat. “I won’t fuck you.” This time, his laugh was more discernible. His broad chest rumbled with the sound.

“‘M not expecting you to, not unless you beg,” you made a face at him but Simon continued, “I get deployed most of the time, I’d just like someone to take care of the house and spend my money.”

“So I would be your sugar baby.” He shrugged.

“If that’s what ya wanna call it. Do what cha want, I don’t care. We just need to show up to official events together.”

You planted your elbows on the table between you and stared into his brown eyes. Simon didn’t waver. “So you wouldn’t have an issue with me getting a job?”

“None.” He answered quickly.

“Going back to school?”

“I’d happily pay for it.” You raised an eyebrow before a devious smirk crossed your lips.

“Get a lover?” His eyes blazed while he mirrored your position, the swivel chair beneath him groaning with his mass as he leaned forwards, planting his massive palms onto the table.

“I’d like to see you try.” Against your will, heat raced through your body, setting your nerves alight with the thrum of arousal. Simon’s mask shifted and you imagined that he was smirking at you.

You tamped down the feeling of wetness between your soft thighs, forcing yourself to remember exactly why you were in this situation in the first place. “You’re a lot different than I was expecting.”

He huffed. “So are you. Thought I was getting stuck with some bratty trust fund baby who’s never even set foot in a thrift store.”

“I thought you were gonna be a crusty old man who wanted me to put out so he could feel better about his broken dick and receding hairline.” Silence settled between you before suddenly, you both broke into peels of laughter, an oppressive weight suddenly lifted from the room.

You were relieved; Simon seemed at least like a decent human being if nothing else and it appeared that you could continue living your life, although without the occasional hook up here and there. But considering how handsome you presumed your almost husband to be, maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

“I guess we both got lucky didn’t we?” You wiped the tears from your eyes.

“Or just benefitting from the sheer incompetence of the people that thought this was a good idea.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“So, should we do this then?” You asked. Simon rose from his seat and offered you his hand, which you didn’t hesitate to take. As he pulled you to your feet, he uttered:

“Let’s give ‘em hell.”

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antivoiid · 5 months ago

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May I kindly marry horror sans?

your bride

congratulations

#i have had a fever for 2 days #i am in so much pain #horror sans #utmv #undertale #undertale au #anon ask #anon #anon x horror #horror ship #newlyweds #newly married #bride #marriage #maybe divorce #it depends #i am so light headed #ask

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slytherizz · 4 months ago

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Fight or Flight - Sebastian Sallow/F!MC

Summary: Sometimes sleeping dogs don't lie.

Two years after his uncles death and with Anne missing the last remaining Auror who scents deception requests a testimony from the only person witness to what really happened between Sebastian and Solomon in the catacombs that day. In a bid to protect those memories and keep him out of Azkaban their marriage is arranged - A marriage Sebastian is hell bent on putting a stop to.

Word count: 15,000 (remember when I said I’d keep it under 10k)

Tags/Warnings: Arranged Marriage, 18+, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Angst, Masturbation, First Time

Link: You can find the complete fic on Ao3.

A/N: Sebastian ‘my wife’ Sallow. To the anon who requested this, I’m sorry it’s so late but it was so much fun to write.

Sebastian is almost certain he’d been on the receiving end of a lethal confundus charm. Either that or he was at present suffering a massive life altering haemorrhage somewhere amongst the sun deceptively warming his cheeks and the familiar groan of the dragon bones anchored above them, as it tilted its great head in greeting when they'd arrived in Hecate's office. Full of mysterious tombs and the lingering scent of smoke. Ash trampled so tightly into the grooves in the floorboards he doubted even the house elves could scour out the smell.

He’d gotten too comfortable. No. Down right complacent as of late and now his psyche in a riotous act of self-preservation was giving him a blistering slap back into reality.

Pull yourself together.

Sebastian dug his nails into the soft flesh of his palm. He hissed at the sharp pain as he broke the skin. Felt the blood prickle hot against his sweat slicked palms as it beaded along the thin superficial wound. Uncomfortable. Stinging. And far, far too real.

“What-?” he managed to croak around a lump in his throat. Praying to Merlin that if this wasn’t a dream it was some elaborate and albeit cruel practical joke.

“Spousal Privileges,” Hecat repeated. Matter of fact. Her features were drawn and to his dismay betraying no hint of amusement.

Sebastian choked violently on his own saliva. A hacked cough, raw against his throat. As if the wind had been knocked out of him by a patient and vindictive phantom.

“What this means is you couldn’t be forced to give a testimony or surrender any memories pertaining to anything to do with Mr Sallow. With his sister still missing, the only people who know what really happened in that catacomb are the two of you. If you can’t be forced to corroborate this theory that has been gaining traction at the Ministry that’s the way it stays,” his professor continued to address the witch beside him, unmoved by the blood draining rapidly from his face.

Her eyes were fixed intently on Hecat, chin raised as she refused to meet Sebastian’s increasingly panicked eye. He shifted in his seat towards her. Turning rapidly back and forth between her and their professor.

Waiting. A heartbeat and then more passed. Mounting up until it became a deafening drum in his ears.

He wanted her to laugh. Let it loose. Burst the dangerous tension mounting with every second this insanity stretched on for. Most pathetically of all - he wanted her to save him. Wanted to watch her face crease with laughter at the absurdity of what Hecat was saying. Cling to some sense of normalcy, her stability by his side whilst the rest of him was spiralling out of control.

She was uncharacteristically still in her chair. As frozen as the statue of the mourning lover in the courtyard. Her fist clenched so tightly in the pleats of her skirt her knuckles blanched. A half finished braid she’d been fiddling with behind her ear hung abandoned. Not a shadow of humour remaining.

“Why now? It’s been years since…” she asked, with a more measured tone Sebastian felt the situation did not warrant.

She spared him a glance which did little to put him at ease. If anything the serious crease to her brow set him on a razor's edge.

Sebastian was unravelling. The thread he’d used to stitch back together a semblance of a life was pulling apart at an alarming rate. And the only two people who had any hope of holding him back together were entertaining this insanity.

“Some of Miss Sallow’s effects were uncovered at the former Feldcroft residence. It seems no one had tended to the home since your Uncle passed…unexpectedly. My contact at the Ministry informs me that there's only one Auror pushing for those memories. Sergeant Tuttle. Old guard. Worked closely with your uncle when they were both juniors in the department. The rest are happy to let Solomon’s memory remain as it has been for the past two years - the heroic final act protecting his young charges from a horde of uncontrollable inferi,” she paused and Sebastian felt the weight of every word. “Personally I am inclined to agree.”

Hecate’s already thin lips pulled so tight they almost entirely disappeared. Her inscrutable brown eyes peeling back the curtain seeing far beyond the truth to the crux of him. Weighing his mettle. And he wasn’t sure she’d be impressed at what she found.

Because what he was - was careless. Sebastian supposed he could argue that his distress over losing his sister had made it too painful to return. Knowing Anne was not there, Feldcroft seemed rather pointless.

But really all he’d been was too eager to turn his back on that hovel that had never been his home. Ivy grew thick over its stones and he hoped one day it would pull it down entirely. No one had touched the wards in over a year. Perhaps when he’d boxed up his feelings and shoved them away in his desperation to move past what he had done, he didn’t consider the possibility that there were others out there who, unlike him, may not want to move on so hastily from Solomon's death.

Anne certainly hadn’t.

“With you two being so close, this is the cleanest option-” Hecate continued.

“I don’t bloody care about clean!” Sebastian broke from his stupor. Fist slamming on the table rattling the spoon from where it rested against his saucer. “Tell me the other options. I don’t care how messy they are. I’ll do them.”

“Perhaps I should rephrase,” Hecat said sharply. “This is your only option. And you’d do well not to leap to such dramatics if you want this to work, Mr Sallow. In particular I’d advise against taking such a tone with me.”

Sebastian didn’t care. He’d already geared up to argue back against this preposterous idea when the statue of the witch beside him suddenly came to life. As if Pygmalion himself had loved her into life just to spite Sebastian.

“We’ll do it,” she said firmly.

Sebastian choked again, head snapping to look at her. “You can’t be serious!”

She simply glared back at him, as if he wasn’t the only reasonable person left in the room. “I’ve kept you out of Azkaban this long-“

Their professor cleared her throat, having little patience for the squabblings of teenagers that was beginning to unfold in her office. It set Sebastian even more on edge. She’d thrown a bomb into their lives and was now regarding him as some petulant child causing a scene. As if instead while he was scrambling to hold it together she expected him to thank her for it.

“I’d choose your words more carefully in front of an audience but I admire the passion. If you want this to succeed you’ll have to make them believe this. Believe you. You can’t cast any doubt on the reason for any of it. A young couple, so in love they simply cannot wait to be married.”

***

It was like taking a match to a forest doused in kerosine. How quickly word could spread overnight when students kept such close quarters and they were eager for anything to save them from revision. Whispers billowed up from steeped mugs. Steam laced with secrets curled around their lips. Huddled so tightly together they looked like hydras. Each set of eyes alight with amusement. Teeth bared ready to feast on their speculation.

From the moment Sebastian had stepped into the Great Hall he’d felt it. The oppressive shift to the atmosphere that usually welcomed him each morning. Clouds dark, heavy with the foreboding rain swirled on the enchanted sky. At least it was fitting.

Instinctively he sought her out. Looked for hers amongst the hundreds of eyes turned towards him. Which he pointedly ignored instead following the remaining half who stole glances towards her.

Blue. Green. Brown. Shifted between them assessing to see what they might do.

She was boxed into the middle of the table by Onai and Sweeting with Reyes taking up the spot across from them. A vicious hound guarding her flock ensured even the most brazen little wretch who considered interrupting would think twice - give her wrath a wide berth.

Reyes to her credit - snarling banshee that she was - looked as deeply horrified by the pathetic silver band on her friend's finger as Sebastian felt it deserved.

They’d transfigured it hastily from a pair of silver spectacles once they’d stumbled out of Hecat’s office the previous evening. One she kept in an odd tangle of items in her satchel and the rushed magic had already begun to tarnish its appearance. It was a wonder anyone actually believed them with how dull and thoughtless it looked sitting on her hand.

If her smile wasn’t so tight, or her laugh a little too airy she would be executing Hecat’s ludicrous scheme to perfection.

Sebastian swallowed around the lump in his throat and sheepishly changed course. Rerouted himself away from the group of witches throwing his bag down on the bench and slumping into a seat at the Slytherin table. Which seemed to delight some of the onlookers. Clearly humiliation was a good seasoning for eggs, he thought as he poured himself a cup of tea from the pot and took out his potions essay in an attempt to look busy enough no one would suspect exactly why he was sitting alone. Or worse, try and talk to him. Not that they would dare when his face looked as thunderous as the sky overhead. It didn't, however, stop him from overhearing their animated gossiping.

‘Do you think she’s…you know?’

‘Obviously! Who in their right mind gets married a month before they leave school? Clearly they’re in a rush before she starts to y’know...’ one girl smirked with an exaggerated flourish over her stomach.

Sebastian shot a glare across to the gaggle of Ravenclaw’s in the year below. Who giggled even more loudly when they caught his eye, one turning pink from the tips of her ears to well past the neckline of her jumper. Sebastian on the other hand felt like someone had doused him in a bucket of water from the lake.

If Reyes didn’t skin him for the insulting piece of jewellery she certainly would if she suspected he’d gotten her favourite flying partner up the kyte.

Sebastian tried to focus on his potions essay. List even a single ingredient of ‘Felix Felicis’ which was proving to be impossible when behind him a brazen fourth year proclaimed and loudly he’d caught them sequestered away between the stacks of the restricted section - her body bent over a desk. Sebastian’s grip on the quill tensed as he strained himself to write the differing effects between wyrm and dragon scale on a potion - and not a very vivid description of what he apparently looked like on his knees buried between her thighs. Ink blotted on the parchment.

Sod Hecat on ‘selling it’. Why did they need to go to such lengths when apparently every gossiping vulture was content to click their beak and do all the work for them?

Surely Azkaban couldn’t be worse than this?

Well, that was delusional - but if he overheard one more person comment on if her robes looked bigger he was more than likely going to do something that would get him thrown in Azkaban regardless.

Sebastian had anticipated suspicion but he still wasn’t prepared for how much it would chafe.

He knew if they were not at the centre of this farce, the two main players on the stage they would have jovially picked apart their performance too. She would have speculated over their sanity as she picked idly at her cauldron cake. Made some snide comment about being too eager to get his leg over. He’d bet her a galleon they’d see the proof in nine months and she would have snorted, undignified unladylike into her pumpkin juice.

Being the subject of this speculation however was mortifying.

Would that be next? Bringing a child into the fucking mess he’d made just to cover his own back? If the thought of dragging her into a marriage him feel ill it paled in comparison to the feeling of crippling dread that conjured.

But would she want that one day? In a young witch's sacrifice to keep him had she truly considered all the things she was giving up in his stead. Things she may not know she even wanted until the opportunity had already been bartered and sold off for the price of his freedom. What kind of man was he to take the hope of any kind of family from someone who already had none to show for it? Take away the chance for someone to love her.

Or maybe she never intended to give up on that particular dream. And Sebastian would be expected to play his part - the cuckolded husband.

Work late until the candles burned down to the wick to give her lover time to retreat. Share her with one; or with many.

Vow now to never let her go without.

Even go as far as to raise her children as his own. Glamour their cheeks with foreign freckles he’d wish were inherited. Brand them with the Sallow name with ink on thin parchment but not their blood; their ties to him just as flimsy and performative as hers.

Her easy smile as she lathered honey onto her toast set his teeth on edge. Sebastian felt in that moment like he never really knew her at all. Head pounding Sebastian stuffed his ink pot and notes back into his bag. Abandoned his breakfast in a rush to get out of the stifling hall. Away from the whispers that he knew would also be deafening in her ears. Perhaps even more so.

‘I didn’t even know they were courting. It’s a shame he’s off the market.’

‘Here’s the thing - I don’t think they were. Clearly, he’s marrying her to do the right thing. Now that she’s trapped him with a baby.’

She caught his eye, her eyebrows stitched together in concern but it did not offset the rigid lock of her furious ticking jaw. Teeth set, clamped together as if Hecat had clamped a muzzle on a fucking dragon and then handed her chains to Sebastian.

Shamefully, he couldn’t bring himself to hold her gaze. Couldn’t even bear to face her in that moment despite knowing he was the reason she had to listen to these lies spread. He should tell her he was sorry. But instead he fled.

Complete fic can be found on Ao3.

#if you're the anon who requested this I'm so sorry it took so long #this brought out the writing gremlin and it would not behave and got way too long #my angsty ass loves arranged marriage tropes #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow x f!mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic

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andreal831 · 10 days ago

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Elijah antis: Elijah was so cruel to Jackson and never respected Hayley and his marriage

Elijah:

Saving Jackson's life

Being Jackson's wingman

Babysitting Klaus so he doesn't kill Jackson

Moving out of his home so everyone will be more comfortable

Renting Hayley and Jackson an apartment

Finding and returning Hayley and Jackson's wedding rings

Elijah's reaction to Jackson's death and grieving him with Hayley

Going to Jackson's funeral to show support

Understanding the desire to respect Jackson even after his death because he knew what it meant to lose loved ones

Helping Hayley enact her revenge on those who were responsible for Jackson's death

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secondarysefikura · 13 days ago

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Aerith: Good news, I’ve convinced Sephiroth to not go threw with his plans and help us take down Shinra.

Tifa: How?!

Aerith:…..Cloud just has to marry him.

Cloud: WHAT?!

Sephiroth: My clones are already getting everything ready for the wedding including your dress, but I’m not officially joining your little group until after our honeymoon Cloud. And it must be at least 2 weeks long.

Barret: Sounds like a fair deal.

Cloud: Don't I get a say in this?!!?!

Sephiroth: Of course you do, you are the bride after all. I'll have the clones bring several dresses for you to choose from. I am also open to discussing where we will have our honeymoon.

Cloud: I am not the bride! I'm not getting married!

Aerith: Come on Cloud, I know it's not ideal, but this will solve both of our problems! Also Sephiroth and I kinda already shook on it so...um...

Cloud: Ugh, fine!

*The day of the wedding*

Priest: Does anyone object?

Cloud: *Raises his hand*

Sephiroth: *lowers Cloud's hand*

#Sephiroth: and now we consummate the marriage!#Cloud: ....I want a divorce #sefikura #sephiroth #cloud strife #ffvii #ff7 #aerith gainsborough #This is such a funny ask anon #I can imagine Cloud angrily trying on wedding dresses #and scowling the whole wedding while the clones all take photos and such

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wandering-hat-guy · 1 year ago

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HOW COULD YOU...I PLANNED A WEDDING FOR US...AND ALL I ASKED WAS A GN KISS 😔😔😔

You asked for too much and planned for a failed future.

#genshin impact #genshin ask blog #genshin wanderer #marriage anon #hat

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bloggingboutburgers · 2 days ago

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How do you deal with the doomscrolling that says America is doomed? I’m in another country thousands of miles away and I still feel scared. Especially for my relatives living there. I don’t know how you cannot feel so hopeless. Do you have any idea how you be feeling okay?

Here's the thing.

I'm moving to another country far from all of my family and almost all of my friends.

I can't drive which is kinda a death sentence over there until I've learned.

I'm coming from Paris to most likely living in a suburban area and the thought alone scares me.

I'm poor by US standards because I've only had a French salary up until now and my savings will surely be eaten through quickly.

I won't be allowed to work/make money in the US or leave the US soil after I've gotten married. First I'll have to ask permission and then I'll have no guarantee how long I'll have to wait before I'm legally allowed to even look for a job.

And speaking of jobs, I worked as a translator to the French language up until now, a skill which is largely useless over there, so who knows if I'll find work and what it'll be.

And speaking of language, arguably that one's minor, but I dread the idea of every single person asking me "where I'm from" within 1 sentence I've spoken, because of the accent I have that I can't get rid of.

So in many ways, regardless of the election result, I wouldn't have been okay anyway. I'm gonna be entering hard mode pretty fucking hard anyway because of general circumstances and age-old US law. My doomscrolling these days is more about USCIS file processing times, what documents allow you to get a learner's permit, and apartment listings and street views of suburban "parks" that look nothing like parks.

But to me, that beats living in fear of another travel ban and crying at the airport every time I have to part from my partner. Maybe I'll regret it, and if so I'll just move back to France. But this decision isn't a fluke. I was well aware things weren't gonna be easy for me before anyone became aware of it.

#anon #us immigration #binational marriage #binational

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lazyveran · 8 months ago

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Muscular!Azula and blushing/clingy!Katara

here u go anon

#i got lazyyy w this pls forgive me #azutara #katara #azula #atla #veran scribbles #anon ask #cough my political marriage au designs r just becoming. their designs. to me. sorry

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sgiandubh · 16 days ago

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Hola, hola! Pregunta de novata asombrada: De veras se casó con ese señor? Habláis de certificado de matrimonio que alguien se molestó en buscar? OMG...

Dear Novata Asombrada Anon,

En cuanto a todos mis anónimos hispanos, espero que no te importe que te contestaré en inglés, como muestra de cortesía hacia la gran mayoría de mis lectores. Gracias y aquí vamos con la traducción de tu pregunta. Y, para que no se me olvide, ¡bienvenida!

Hello, hello! Question from a shocked newbie: Did she really marry that man? Are you talking about a marriage certificate that someone bothered to look for? OMG…

Good morning and thank you for asking - you are not the only one today, it would seem. This question is making the rounds again (why?) and let's call this a (fortunate?) coincidence. The Marriage Certificate (MC) was the equivalent of the Great Christian Schism between Rome and Byzantium, in this fandom, mind you. Depending on your own take on the S&C Saga, it has been dreaded, expected, announced with great confidence and actively researched by fans, who simply took advantage of a very relaxed and transparent UK legislation, allowing for basically everyone to order a certified copy by email or snail mail, for a small fee.

The first fan aggressively trumpeting it online was (correct me if I am wrong) an ex-shipper who now goes by the handle of @brian-in-finance, also known as BIF, also known as Kidneystone. In her pedantic and arrogant little voice, she made a point of honor in dissecting absolutely every single detail of that dutifully certified piece of paper issued by the British General Register Office (GRO). A second, short-lived account, @hurleyburly, ordered the same paper and posted it on Tumblr, this time pudically hiding some details under a makeshift post-it. The usual fandom fortunetellers thought the handwriting on that 'post-it' was eerily similar to S's own, but we'll leave it at this. Although, I have to immediately add, I would not discount this possibility. A third prominent shipper account, @boyneriver-fraser, ordered it and made pathetic public amends over her previous shipping stance. Some others imitated them and received the exact same paper, followed by a seemingly endless trail of wrath, confusion and wailings.

People were understandably shocked, hurt and in definite anger over this. Many disembarked the ship, considering they had been either blind/idiot or cynically fooled by our Dynamic Duo, eager to sell the show. Speculation went rife. Some even tried to go the extra mile and believe they found out even more inconsistencies. I shall not speak on their behalf, simply because I was not here at the time and had no idea These Two will become such an (often invading) point of interest in my own life.

But irrespective of any inconsistencies, this paper legally exists. As such, it has legal effects that cannot and should not be discounted. I have always maintained it, as a professional. Likewise, I have consistently explained the Ibiza episode might be anything you could think of, from a romantic (?) picnic on a parking lot with a bird featuring a strange toupee (as per C's tweeted chirp), to a non legally binding handfasting ceremony (remember, LOL, 'some things are just for' Them). I have explained very early after my arrival why I do not think a Spanish marriage was in the cards. This is my final word about that #CarparkIbiza fanfic:

[Link: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/723029524897529856/i-have-asked-a-few-very-popular-bloggers-this?source=share - July 16, 2023]

More clearly put, national Spanish legislation requires the two foreign citizens to be residents in Spain, if they want to get married there. British consulates do not perform marriage ceremonies, either. And cross-border marriage rules in Europe, at the time applicable to a not yet Brexited UK, would have mandatorily required a transcription of the marriage papers in Britain. This is not the USA, where you can just go to Vegas, have your knot tied by an Elvis lookalike and divorce the next (hungover) morning. Or go to Tijuana and do what Sophia Loren and Carlo Ponti did in 1957, to great (bigamous) scandal. Rules are different. Rules exist, as stupid and cold as they might look. And one more time - they have tangible consequences.

At this point in time, you might logically ask yourself why I am still here. Is it because of the feeling of power and self-importance, as some nasty Anons remind me every single day? Is it because of the formidable people I have met in here? Yes, it is also because of them, but not only because of them, of course. And as far as any feeling of power and self-importance go, let's just say it's ridiculous to think so.

The reason I am still here is both simple and complicated to understand: a paper, even certified, does not a marriage make. Mark me, Anon: there is nothing (I repeat: nothing) normal about this one. There are secrets and lies and inconsistencies and gaslighting galore. The shippers know it. The Antis/Mordor know it. The Fencers know it. And every single one of these broad factions apparently has ample supplies of popcorn. And, as far as we go, champagne bottles stashed, plus a firm decision to have a Global Lollapalooza on the Internet the day this awkward situation would come to an end.

I have tried to answer your very legitimate question the best I could. I do not believe in sugarcoating or hiding anything. What I do believe in, is the power of critical thinking and the ability to coldly analyze facts, even if they do not encourage fantasy. You would be surprised of the things that do not click, in that official Narrative. Important things, not speculation. My blog primarily deals in this kind of stuff: things that do not click and paint a very different story than the one officially being peddled around.

And now, dear Shocked Newbie Anon, you are free to disembark, if you think I am still lying to you (what for, may I ask? just to receive every single day violent garbage into my Inbox?). But if you choose to stay with us, the tea is always brewing, somewhere. And mind you, it's often the finest Oolong you could find, because I honestly believe that we have the most formidable and unexpected assortment of witty minds and strong characters, in here.

#anon #fandom #shitshow #marriage certificate apostille #legal

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