i am so charmed by a lumax wedding because it’s not even something max thought would happen. like she assumed weddings were something the girl makes happen and the guy puts up with. and because she had no desire for one, so there’s no reason it would happen.
among other things weddings are an exorbitant and performative show of love, max loves lucas and she doesn’t care whether or not other people know or believe this. at it’s best marriage to her has been a representation of failed dreams and at it’s worst it’s been a tool to manipulate people who need to get away to stay. maybe they will get married for the tax benefits, she thinks.
this is until max and lucas are older and living together, they’re chilling on the couch and lucas mentions his family has been asking when he’s planning to propose and if that’s something max even wants? max doesn’t care, she doesn’t plan on going anywhere, a certificate won’t change anything and she's not crazy about parties. she doesn’t ask how he feels, he brings it up, that “actually i want a wedding.”
that is saying the least, lucas wants a wedding more than anything. he loves max and he doesn’t need to prove that to anyone, but he’s happy and he wants to share that with others! he wants to work with max to make marriage a positive thing to them, he wants to celebrate their love, everything they’ve been through. also, hell, he’s only human, he wants to show off! he wants to dress really cool and go to a really cool place and show the world know how awesome he and his girlfriend are. HIS WIFE!!!
most of all, lucas wants the moment near the end of the night, where the party’s getting loud and everybody wants his attention, but max asks if he wants to get out of there and he says yes. not out out, just outside the venue. it’s dark and the once booming music is now faint, they sit and catch up, complain about their families, laugh about their friends. max holds lucas’s hand and plays with his wedding ring, she whispers something sweet before asking him to dance. it’s the best part of the night and nobody will know about it but them.
suddenly max decides she wants a wedding.
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The thing driving me so insane about Loid and Yor communicating so openly is that this is how a couple in an actual relationship would address the problems they're having
She's asking him to rely on her, saying that he doesn't need to put up appearances all the time, that she knows he's capable but she's here to help and wants to, that he doesn't need to be perfect.
They're in a fake marriage. Loid has repeatedly told her she doesn't have to do anything but be around for specific events, but Yor still genuinely took up the role of Anya's mom and has been actively working to be a good mother to her fake husband's daughter this entire time, and now she's gently pushing back on Loid about not helping him either.
They aren't in love yet, or at least aren't aware of any developing feelings, but Yor is still reaching out to Loid in a way that someone in a real committed relationship would to their partner. She doesn't need to!! She's completely in her right to not help him, to not care!! He has given her the explicit permission of it multiple times!! But she cares about him, Anya, and Bond, this little family they've created. She wants him to lean on her like she does on him
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Part 2 of Love stabbing Ghost! Soap to the rescue.
You're at a house, it's right in the middle of a place it probably shouldn't be. Arched door and gabled roof sandwiched between two very modern and tall looking buildings. Simon knocks on it twice and waits. There's a very loud noise from inside and then a lot more loud noise before the door is yanked open. There's a man, just about Simon's height, with a Mohawk and a smile leaning against the doorframe. He looks happy to see your boyfriend.
"Ghost," he glances down at the unattended stab wound in Simon's stomach, "I see you're doing well."
"You're hilarious," Simon says, pushing past him and into the home. You don't move. Something is... stopping you. The other man smiles at you, waiting. Simon turns to look for you over his shoulder and stops. "Soap," Simon warns, but it's something else too, questioning.
Soap cocks his head at you, you've never seen a man that looks like him before. Too human. Like everything human about him has been cranked up to 11. He's not blocking you from entering the house, but he hasn't invited you in either. It would be rude to-
"She can't cross the threshold," Soap grins, his smile so wide you think you could count all his teeth. You vibrate just on the edge of something, you can feel it like a second door preventing you from crossing into his home. He nods his head at you finally, "Alright, come in. Can't have you attracting attention."
The door opens and you slide past him. Simon grabs you quickly, tipping your head this way and that to study you. He looks so concerned that you don't put up a fight. Soap ignores both of you, walking past to rummage around in his kitchen. You look around as Simon looks at you. It's a cute place, comfortable, you'd almost call it cozy.
"How many tethers you got in her?" Soap calls, setting a white medical kit on the coffee table.
"Enough," Simon tells him, finally releasing your face. You wish he'd at least kiss you if he was going to hold onto you for so long. You must pout because he leans down to do just that, soft and sweet as he presses his lips to yours.
"Yer aff yer heid," Soap pats the couch and Simon releases you again. He strips his shirt off and sits where Soap directed with a grunt. Soap pokes at the skin around the wound and you lean over the back of the couch to want. “How’d you do this, lass?”
“Knife.” You tell him plainly. Soap snorts, Simon sighs, shooting you a warning look. “He asked me to, said ‘I want you to stab me’. So I stabbed him.” Soap gives Simon a look of concern.
“Mate your kinks are really gettin’ out of hand.”
“Didn’t think she’d do it.” Simon replies gruffly, you see him wince when Soap presses too hard too close to the edge of the wound, “Was trying to teach her about us.”
“You barely know about us.” Soap hums, grabbing a needle and thread from the med kit. You settle a hand on Simon’s shoulder as Soap starts stitching him up, squeezing to try and take some of his attention from the pain. You’re starting to get phantom pains just watching him, you can’t imagine how Simon’s so stoic about it.
“What’s your name lass?” Soap asks, and you frown.
“How’s that any of your business?” You reply, trying to memorize the way he twists sutures and snips the thread. Next time you stab Simon you should at least know how to stitch him up. Simon gives a small purr, aborted immediately when Soap pulls the last stitch tight.
“Christ you are a fucking mess, you know that?” Soap’s not talking to you, he’s talking to Simon. Looking him over, plucking at invisible threads with a frown. “How’d you-” He pulls on something and you smack his hand without thinking. Soap looks at you like you’ve grown a second head. He stands from the couch and stares the two of you down. “Simon Riley,” He says with purpose.
Simon doesn’t move, just raises a brow. Soap makes a ‘come on’ gesture and groans.
“You are fuckin’ jokin’.” He presses his hands to his face before dropping them and pointing at Simon. You’re starting to like this guy. Or maybe that’s Simon’s pleased hum through the tethers. “You-” He groans again, “I can’t believe you. Best mates for years and you don’t even- Price is going to kill you.”
“What’s happening?” You whisper ask Simon. Soap turns his annoyance on you.
“What’s happening, is you own this bastard and he didn’t even send out a wedding invite.”
“I didn’t think she’d give me her name,” Simon starts. Soap holds up a hand to cut him off.
“You are on probation, I’m not listening to you anymore, don’t talk to me.” You bite down a smile, you definitely like this guy.
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