Tumgik
#my parents are getting divorced and I’m getting engaged what is my life
mountymase · 24 days
Text
you don't get to tell me about sad
file two - lewis hamilton
Tumblr media
a/n: i’m so unserious i cannot even- 🥲 i didn’t plan to post this today but i was on a mission. it’s my first lh44 fanfic and i’m actually proud of it. hope you like it! although it ends open to a part two, i truly don’t plan on writing, just so you know! 🤍
tw: angst, cheating, sort of toxic love/relationship, divorced parents, mentions of anxiety, twin pregnancy. a bit of “illicit affairs” inspiration.
1.449k words
Everything pointed towards one direction: you getting heartbroken in the end. Heavily heartbroken, to a point, it’d become hard to breathe and face the world as if he’d never been part of your life - how would you be able to forget him and the way the corners of his eyes wrinkled when he laughed, the way his hands instantly searched for your face to kiss you whenever you said something that’d make him laugh?
Lewis was drawn to you and your energetic personality the moment you met, at an FIA gala years ago, and everything about your relationship moved on so fast you were swept off your feet. Like a hurricane, Lewis Hamiton turned your life upside down in a way you’d never be able to explain - and that’s how it went for the next four years. You built a house, a life, a family.
When the twins were born, you thought life couldn’t be more complete, but then Lewis won his 7th World Championship the same year and you made a surprise appearance the moment he stood on the highest spot of the podium, where he belonged. You still remembered the way his eyes widened and jaw dropped, but his facial expression quickly switched to the happiest you’d ever seen him - the sparkle in his teary eyes and the way he never stopped looking at you. As soon as the champagne ceremony was over, Lewis rushed to find you, without even caring how all the cameras had their focus on the two of you as you kissed passionately.
“Where are they?” he breathed against your lips, asking for the twins. You motioned to the garage with your head, where your parents stood with each baby in their arms. Lewis sighed in relief, two weeks were too much time away from Daisy and Jude - the chubby tiny humans wiggled their feet seeing their papa coming closer and that’s how you were living the life that was meant for you.
Things got wonderfully overwhelming when, much to your and Lewis’ surprise, the two lines on five different pregnancy tests were as clear as the Spanish sun outside, as you enjoyed your summer vacation. The twins were just eight months and still needed all of your attention - with Lewis away most of the time and nowhere near thinking of retiring from F1, you had to count on with yours and his parents, so your constant absence during the new season was deeply missed by everyone.
You genuinely thought this new baby would add more joy to what was already a happy life - Lewis could barely contain his excitement and made sure the whole world knew about the family’s new and unexpected addiction, but by the time you were about to give birth again things had drastically changed.
He wasn’t your Lewis anymore, but you wouldn’t be the annoying wife, you wouldn’t pressure him so you’ve watched the love of your life slowly distancing himself from you as a husband. Lewis didn’t touch you anymore and the passionate kisses were no longer there. You knew very well how much it affected him seeing Red Bull’s and Max’s dominance on the sport that he, not long ago, was the absolute favourite - but something you two promised the day before you tied the knot, was to always seek each other whenever trouble approached and you felt like it could have an impact on your marriage.
Now, sitting on the expensive sofa of your Monaco luxurious penthouse, with your three children still asleep, you waited for the sun to rise as your eyes couldn’t move from the sparkling diamonds on your ring finger. The engagement ring, the wedding band, and the eternity ring Lewis gifted you when the twins were born. Each ring represented the most perfect memory and the life you had built with the man you loved.
When you hear your bedroom door open and slow, almost silent steps towards you, you can also feel anxiety bubbling up your stomach and making your head spin. It had to be now, or you wouldn’t have the guts to do it anymore.
“Good morning, Lew.” He stopped when he heard your voice, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. You never woke up this early whenever you were in Monaco. “Can you sit here with me?”
It wasn’t a surprise when Lewis sat on the opposite side, facing you as the first rays of sunshine found their way through the still closed curtains. His face was perfectly illuminated by the sun, and that’s when a wave of painful realisation hit you - there was no trace of love nor admiration he usually had in his eyes whenever he was looking at you. So this would have to go down the hard way.
“Why are you up so early?” The lack of emotion in his voice made you gulp. You desperately wanted to shake and punch him until he was back to normal.
“I don’t want to fight, especially under the same roof as the kids.” Lewis moved uncomfortably on the armchair, waiting for you to continue. “But I need you to know that I know.”
“K-know what?”
“That you’ve been cheating.”
Those four words put an end to your marriage and Lewis used the most pathetic excuse to justify his poor actions, saying how sad he was with how the season was going and that he didn’t feel good enough anymore - and on top of that, he also added to his lame speech how busy you’ve been with the kids. “You don’t get to tell me about sad,” was the only thing you could send back to him, so full of agonising anger that the thought of his hands touching another woman’s body while you were the dedicated wife and mother made you want to throw up.
Betrayed and shattered, you forced yourself to take one step closer to moving on each day the sun invaded your new bedroom - one recently acquired with years of hard work and not with divorce money. As you navigated through the painful aftermath of being exposed to the media, Lewis faced the consequence of his actions with most of the public turning his back on him once the cheating went public and you knew damn well how. The thick tan line on your ring finger and your children playing at the beach under the afternoon sun were the only things now that represented Lewis in your life.
You were never open to the possibility of reconciliation, and as you moved on the best you could, you had to deal with an insisting Lewis bringing you flowers each time he showed up to his father duties - one he performed incredibly well.
On a night out with Susie Wolff, you confessed how much you missed him in your life but also how you only thought about him touching another woman. Would you ever be able to let go, to allow yourself to be loved again and live a happy life? Lewis couldn’t be the only option.
“Toto cheated once,” Susie admitted, her cheeks blushing as your eyes widened. “I know you are already divorced, but it’s up to you to discover if you want to embark on a journey of healing and forgiveness. To confront your vulnerabilities, and insecurities, and acknowledge what caused the cracks in your marriage that led to the affair.”
Susie made it all sound so simple, but it was deeper than that.
You concluded that, despite having to see him in your children’s faces every day, it’d be easier to deal with it for a while as if Lewis Hamilton was gone forever - dead, even, as awful as it sounded to you. To be happy and healthy for your babies, you have to feel it for yourself first. So, that’s when you decided that you’d have to avoid him for as long as you could and that’s what you did. Your mother was responsible for meeting him now whenever he showed up to pick up the kids, and from a respectful distance, Lewis watched you moving on.
First, on your own.
Then, with someone new. Someone who was to you what he couldn’t be for eternity, as he promised the day he proposed.
He watched you look as gorgeous as the day you met at that gala, he watched his children accept the new man in your life, he watched you engaged again and your fiancé become the newest Formula 1 champion.
Lewis watched you living the life you deserved and openly hoped he’d have the chance to give you again, no matter what it’d cost, because for you he’d ruin himself a million little times.
And secretly, so would you.
209 notes · View notes
blairrwaldorfs · 3 months
Text
Is It Over Now?
Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Fake dating your flatmate, Joe, should be a simple thing. It meant you get to help get his ex back, and it meant you get to stop your parents' nagging about bringing someone home for once. But what happens when fake dating turns into something unexpected? Now, what?
Author's Note: I'm sure you all remember this unfinished fic. I'm back in this new blog. I'm setting my boundaries. Anons are off in this blog. I'm here to have a good time and that means no hate or drama from the fandom. I'm simply here to enjoy my writing and share it with everyone. Please read this for more info.
Disclaimer: Mention of violence, 18+
Wordcount: 3.7K
Tumblr media
part one - part two - part three - part four - part five - part six - part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten
You knew going home for New Years was a terrible idea because when did you come home, and it ended up being a good quality time with your parents?
Never. 
All weekend, all you heard was your mum nagging about every detail of what was wrong with your life. You sat there on the dining table as she cooked dinner for the four of you. Your dad watching some sports on the television, and your younger brother sitting next to you, giving you a “just tuned her out” look. As if you haven’t done that all your life. 
“Did you know my friend’s daughter lived with her boyfriend for two years in the same flat, and he stabbed her in her sleep?” Your mum gave you her wide eyes.
“Mum!” Your eyes widened, disbelief that she had told you that. “I don’t think it's appropriate to talk about this.”
“Well, I’m just saying!” Your mum shook her head, sliding the chicken in the oven. “If her own boyfriend had stabbed her, how sure are you that you’re safe with that flatmate of yours?”
You rolled your eyes, hearing your brother chuckle next to you. 
“Wait, is she okay though?” Your brother interrupted. 
“She’s fine. Good thing she was rushed to the hospital right away.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose as your brother and your mum talked back and forth about the incident that happened. Meanwhile, your dad was just shutting the three of you out. Your brother was your mum’s favorite, especially now that he went through a divorce. She had babied him even more. She would say she felt sorry for him for going through such a shitty and rough divorce. Your dad, however, loved to nag your brother just like what your mum does to you every time. He would tell him how he shouldn't have married too early. That he only knew her for a year and decided that he was in love when he wasn’t in the first place. 
“I’ve been with Joe for a year. He’s fine. He’s barely home anyway.” You argued back.
Your mum let out a loud scoff, wiping her hands on the kitchen towel as she started working on the mashed potatoes. 
“You only kept that flat because you keep spending your money on unnecessary things!” Your mum has now found a new excuse for her complaining. “That's why you can’t afford your own flat. I mean look at Sara… She and Abby just bought a new place, and they got married.”
Oh no.
Here comes the marriage subject. 
You knew she was slowly creeping that subject in this conversation. She always managed to find a way to bring it up, and you should have seen it coming already. You and Sara have been best friends since college, and she has grown pretty close with your family. She got engaged last year with Abby, whom she met at an art gallery three years ago, and they got married just a few months ago. Though, before all that, you and Sara were flatmates. She moved out a year ago after getting engaged and started living with Abby. You, on the other hand, had found—you thought— a perfect flatmate. 
Joe. 
Joseph Quinn from that famous Stranger Things show. He was looking for a flatmate—you didn’t know why since he could afford it himself— and you thought it was perfect since he was barely home, and you could have the flat all by yourself most of the time. He wasn't too much of a hassle most of the time, and he knew how to treat your own boundaries well. It was perfect. 
Atleast to you. 
“Hate to burst your bubble, mother, but a flat in London is very expensive these days. I haven't been spending my money on unnecessary things.” 
“Maybe put that flatmate to use and get with him instead.” Your mum murmured under her breath, but you heard it loud and clear.
“MUM!” 
Ohmygod.
This woman was going to drive you nuts for the rest of the weekend. Was she that desperate that she was literally suggesting for you to get together with Joe? The woman was mad. 
“What?” Your mum gave you a look as if what she just said was not something so inappropriate. “You’re almost 30, and you don’t have a boyfriend nor have you brought anyone home at all.” 
You rolled your eyes, leaning back on your chair. You were 28 years old for fuck’s sake. She didn’t understand how hard it was to date someone out there these days. Besides, you liked your independence. You liked doing things on your own. You liked the way everything was in your life right now. You didn’t need to change that. 
“You two have been flatmates for over a year, and you’re telling me you two haven’t had sex?”
Good lord.
You got up from your chair, shaking your head. You couldn’t take anymore of this conversation with her. She needed to go get checked out or something because the woman was insane. Mental for sure. 
“Mum!” Your face was all scrunched up with the idea of you and Joe doing it. “I don’t like him like that! Also, just so you know, he has a girlfriend.”
“A girlfriend?” Your mum’s eyes widened. “And they don’t live together? That’s not going to last.”
“It’s his life, mum. Let him live the way he wants it to be.” You made your way towards the kitchen doorway. “Just like how you should let me live my own life.” You mumbled under your breath.
“Stop being so stiff and having an attitude with men all the time. That’s why no one asks you out.”
You sighed and paused in your tracks, turning to face your mum. You were ready for this conversation to be over.
“I’ll try.” You told her with a sarcastic hint in your voice before walking out of the kitchen, hearing your brother letting out a sigh. 
You knew he was frustrated for you too because he felt the same when it came to your father. Both of you dealt the same shit like this from your parents your whole lives. It wasn’t a surprise that the both of you were quick to move out of the house the moment you both graduated from secondary school. 
You flopped yourself on the sofa next to your dad, exhaling a sharp breath. The thought of you and Joe appeared in your mind, and you just couldn’t imagine it at all. You didn’t even know Joe well enough for you to like him like that. He was just your flatmate. A nice guy whenever he was around. That was all. 
“Mum bothering you?” Your dad interrupted your thoughts.
“Oh, you know, like always. She’s getting more and more inappropriate these days.” 
Your dad chuckled softly, taking a sip of his beer, his eyes were still laser focused on the game in front of him. 
“So, do you have a boyfriend at all?” 
You couldn’t help but let out a groan and threw your head back as soon as your dad mentioned that question. It was like you couldn’t get away from that subject at all in this house. You got up from the sofa and headed upstairs to your old room and stayed there until it was time for dinner. Your dad wasn’t as harsh as your mum when it came to conversations like these with you, but you were so sick of it. So sick of hearing the same question.
Why couldn’t anyone understand that you were fine being single? It wasn’t like you didn’t like being in a relationship. You were just bad at it, and you weren’t actively looking for one at the moment. You were too focused on your career, and why were they so adamant about you getting into a relationship when the both of them would fight all the time anyway? They couldn't even handle their own marriage well. Even now, they would argue in front of you or in front of their friends with no shame at all. It was stupid and ridiculous. 
How did they expect you to be in a relationship and deal with all that shit? 
It was all so terrifying.
You didn’t need that kind of shit in your life right now. You were perfectly fine being alone and just hanging out with your friends. You were fine meeting some man at the bar sometimes and maybe a little hookup but that was it. No strings attached after. Just a little bit of fun for a night. 
Coming home to your flat after that chaotic and terrible weekend at your parents’ house, you were so glad to be back in your own place. All you thought about the whole ride home on the train was how your bed was already calling you. You were ready to cuddle up in your fuzzy blanket, have some dinner and maybe a glass of wine, while finishing an episode of the show you were currently watching. 
Joe was in town for the next however many months. Who knows what his next schedule will be. You stopped keeping track of it since it would change all the time anyway. Though, you knew he was meeting his girlfriend, Ivy, tonight because he sent you a text when you were on the train that he left some dishes on the kitchen sink, but he would clean it up after his date with Ivy. 
Entering the flat, the place was dark and quiet. The only sound that you could hear was the heater automatically turning on every twenty minutes or so. Reaching for the light switch, you slapped it with your hand to turn on all the lights and made your way down the hall, dropping your duffel bag on the floor of your bedroom. You grabbed all your dirty clothes from your bag and threw it on the laundry basket before walking inside the shower to freshen up. Letting the hot water touch your skin, you exhaled sharply, letting your shoulders and mind relax. 
It was always like this.
You would find your whole body all tight and tense after visiting your parents’ house because of all the shit you have to deal with whenever you decide to come home. You didn’t even know why you would expect something else from them since it was always the same. You should have known. You couldn’t help but think about how you weren’t ever going back there again until Christmas because you couldn’t take anymore of hearing your parents’ nagging about the same thing all the time. 
Finally, pushing those thoughts away and reminding yourself that you were far far away from them now, you went to go make yourself some dinner and poured yourself a glass of white wine and settled onto the sofa. You figured maybe Joe wasn’t going to come home until later or better yet, he might stay over at Ivy’s place if he had too much to drink and couldn’t get away from her. 
You met Ivy a few times. She was tall and thin and an upcoming successful model. She was nice when you first met her but whenever she would come over after that, she would barely acknowledge you. It wasn’t like you really cared because it wasn’t any of your business. You did your own thing, and Joe did his. He never complained when, sometimes, you would bring a guy home, so why would you? 
During one of the nights that you and Joe would hang in your living room because you both ended up being bored on a weekend, he had mentioned that he and Ivy have been together for six months. From the conversation that you two had, it seemed like Joe really liked her. You couldn’t blame him though. She was pretty, confident, and a model. Who wouldn’t like her? 
So, after an hour of peace, you were sort of surprised when you heard his keys dangling on the other side of the front door as he unlocked it. It was only 9:30pm, and he usually doesn’t come home ‘til midnight or even at 2 am. Sometimes he doesn’t even come home at all. You heard the front door swung open and closed from down the hall as Joe’s heavy footsteps made the wooden floors creak. You drank your wine and looked over your shoulder to see him stumbling on his feet, walking towards you.
Was he drunk? This early?
Pausing the episode that you were watching, you got up from the sofa and walked over to where he was, helping him up on his feet. He was barely walking, and he was using the wall to lean onto it, so he wouldn’t fall flat on the floor.
“Are you okay?” You asked, taking his arm and wrapping it around your shoulder, helping him towards the sofa. 
Joe let out a sarcastic laugh and scoffed at the same time to the question you just asked. He flopped himself on the sofa and took a deep breath. He looked distressed. He could barely carry his head as he threw his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes. You wondered if something happened with Ivy. You wondered if they fought or if she said something to make him this upset.
“Ivy broke up with me.” Joe shook his head, his voice full of despair. 
You raised your brows in surprise, sitting next to him. You weren’t good at comforting someone, so you didn’t really know what to do or say. 
“Oh.” It was all you could manage. “I’m so sorry. Did she tell you why?”
It was a dumb question.
Of course, she would tell Joe why. Unless she was that cold hearted that she just told him it was over and left him like this. She wouldn’t do that, right? You just asked that stupid question because you didn’t know what else to say.
“She said because I wasn’t in town all the time, so she barely sees me and when I’m in town, I barely pay attention to her.” Joe fluttered his eyes open, straightened himself on the sofa and reached for your wine glass on the table, drinking the rest of it.
What Ivy said was such a lie though. 
How could she say that Joe barely paid attention to her when all Joe ever did was visit her whenever he was in town. In fact, he doesn’t even come home sometimes because he would stay over at her place, so what else did she want from him? 
“You know what makes it worse?” Joe scoffed again, shaking his head in disbelief. “She had to drag your name in the argument too.”
Your name? 
What do you have to do with all of this? What do you have to do with their relationship?
“What did she say?” You asked. 
Somehow, you sort of afraid of what Joe was going to answer.
“She’s jealous of you.” Joe replied. “Can you believe that? She’s jealous of you! She asked why I’m flatmates with you.”
That still didn’t make sense as to why she would be jealous of you. She knew you have been living in the same flat as Joe’s for a year now and all of a sudden, she was jealous? 
“Why would she be jealous of me?”
Joe shrugged, looking around his surroundings like he was looking for something. “I don’t know. She said something about you being smarter, prettier and better than her.”
What was in the air lately? Had people gone mad or something? First, your mum was saying all kinds of nonsense shit and now, Joe just told you Ivy was jealous of you? 
Jealous? Was she serious?
Ivy was literally a model. Every man would fall to their knees to have her, but she chose Joe over the rest of them. Not that Joe wasn’t attractive or anything. He was attractive, nice, and a good guy, but she could literally have anyone she wanted. Now, she was comparing herself to you? That was just ridiculous and honestly, sort of got you baffled over it. You weren’t even anything special at all for her to feel that way.
You couldn’t say all of that out loud though. Joe was already upset enough.
“I’m sorry.” You told him again, but Joe was too busy looking for something as his head snapped back and forth from side to side, his eyes scanning the room. “What are you looking for?”
“The rest of this.” Joe held up your empty wine glass. “Is it okay if you stay here and keep me company? Please?”
You nodded your head as you got up from the sofa to get the bottle of wine that you left in the kitchen and grabbed yourself another glass. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea to give Joe more alcohol but honestly, he probably needed it after tonight. Sitting back down next to him on the sofa, you poured the both of you some more wine, and you immediately took a sip of it, letting the liquid burn your throat and warm your stomach up.
“All her excuses were so stupid.” Joe drank his wine before continuing, “She knew how complicated my job could get, and I warned her about it, and she told me she could handle it. Now, she’s saying that she couldn’t?”
“I mean… if she knew about it, how come she’s acting like this was all new information she was just learning?” You turned to your side, fully facing Joe.
You brought your feet up and rested it underneath you to settle yourself on the sofa comfortably and continued to drink your wine. “You’re an actor. You are bound to travel to different countries, especially if it's a big part of your job.”
“Exactly! Thank you!” Joe threw his hand up in the air. “And bringing you in the conversation? Why would she be jealous of you? She had known all this time we’re just flatmates.”
You shrugged, “I don’t know. She seemed okay when I first met her. Then, she barely acknowledged me ever since.”
Joe scoffed, finishing his glass of wine before pouring himself more. You might want to take that bottle of wine from him soon because he might get even more drunk as he continues to vent over Ivy. 
“I feel like you’re the only one who understands. I know we barely talk because I’m barely even home most of the time, but thank you.” 
Joe was genuine and sincere and even when he was all upset, you could see the sincerity in his eyes. That was the one thing that you noticed about Joe. His eyes never lie. You could always tell the difference if he was lying or if he was telling the truth. Though, he didn’t really need to thank you. You understood how important his career was because you felt the same when it came to yours. However, it didn’t mean that he stopped caring about Ivy. You could see how much he liked her. 
“You communicated with her about everything that came with your career when she started dating you. Maybe you should try and communicate with her again about all of this? You know… to give her reassurance.” 
“I tried.” Joe leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling. “But she refused to believe me. She said she couldn’t handle it anymore.”
You pursed your lips and stared at your distressed flatmate for a moment, not really knowing what else to say or do. Joe picked the worst person to vent about his relationship problems because what did you even know about a relationship? Yeah, you have been in a couple of relationships, but you were terrible at it. That was why you never tried to be in one. It was better that way. But you couldn’t tell Joe that. It seemed like he really wanted to fix this and be with Ivy.
“I really liked her too.” Joe played with the empty glass in his hand. “I really thought we were going to last.” 
“I’m really sorry.”
You scolded yourself for saying that for about a millionth time tonight. As if your sorrys were going to help his situation. You just didn’t know what else to say or do, and you hated it. Hated the fact that you couldn’t comfort someone without feeling all cringey and uncomfortable. Giving Joe some affection was going to make it worse too.
You blamed your own mother for being so cold your whole life. Affection and comforting someone didn’t run well in your family. Though, you knew you mostly were just blaming your mother because you were still frustrated over the chaotic weekend that you had to deal with. 
What a start of a New Year for you and Joe, huh? 
Joe continued on to rant about Ivy, but you could tell he was just angry and frustrated with her. You could see it in his eyes that he still felt something for her. Of course, that wasn’t going to go away easily. Eventually, he had fallen asleep on the sofa. So tired from all the venting and so drunk from all the alcohol he drank that he just crashed.
You got up from the sofa quietly and grabbed the throw blanket, covering him up, so he was comfortable and warm. There was no way you were able to carry him back in his room. He was just going to have to be comfortable on the sofa. For a second, you studied Joe that was peacefully sleeping in front of you and thought how you sort of felt bad for him. You couldn’t really put the pieces together as to why Ivy would act like that, especially how she felt about you. You barely saw Joe around lately, and you thought Ivy felt the same way about him with the way she would act around him whenever she would come over. 
Laying on your bed that night, staring at your ceiling, you kept comparing yourself to Ivy. She was a model, you were just someone who worked at a biotech lab. She was much prettier and taller. You were short and not at all pretty—at least you thought so— compared to her. You were nowhere near famous or known by certain people when you walked down the street unlike Ivy and Joe. 
Closing your eyes and letting the subject go, you just hoped that maybe Joe would at least feel a little better tomorrow. 
Taglist:
@palomahasenteredthechat @sunvick @eddies-acousticguitar @demonsanddemogorgons @joesquinns @mmunson86 @ghostinthebackofyourhead @corrodedcoffincumslut @figmentofquinn @tlclick73 @browneyes8288 @bylermaxmayfield
(I can't remember anyone else who wanted to be in the taglist so please let me know if you want to be in it).
129 notes · View notes
rocknrollbabe14 · 5 months
Text
You Make Everyday Feel Like It's Christmas (Joe X Reader)
Tumblr media
You Make Everyday Feel Like It’s Christmas
Summary: It’s your second Christmas with Joe. Christmas has a new meaning for you this year. But you’ve always loved this time of year. But this time, you want to bring a little holiday cheer to your fiancé. Joe doesn’t “hate” Christmas but he’s not quite feeling up to it this year. Can you manage to get him in the Christmas spirit? Or will he be a scrooge?
Prompts: Shopping, “I cannot believe you’re making me go shopping on Christmas Eve.”// “Don’t be a Scrooge.”// “I’m freezing, come warm me up.”// baking
Rating: 18+ (for the fact at the end, it alludes to premarital sex) 
Also, special thanks to @josephs-quinns for making my header and making my visions come to life. Love you ❤️❤️❤️
You were never one to put off Christmas shopping. Matter of fact, you thought people were crazy for waiting until the very last day to finish their Christmas shopping. The thought alone made your stomach twist with anxiety, making it feel like it was bubbling up into your throat. How could people be so calm when they were working against the clock to make last minute Christmas magic happen? You had never understood it—until now.
“I can’t believe you’re making me go shopping on Christmas Eve.”, Joe groaned as he slid on his peacoat, fixing his scarf just perfect around his neckline. 
The weather in London was absolutely frigid in comparison to what you were used to in the United States. Moving to London to be with your fiancé was something that you never imagined would be on your bingo card. But, here you were. You had been together for almost two years now and you knew that being engaged in under two years sounded a little bizarre, but Joe had claimed he knew from the beginning that you were the one for him.
You knew how it sounded. It sounded very cliché looking back, but you loved him and you were happy with him. This was only the second Christmas you both were spending with each other. Tomorrow’s plans were clear. You were spending half Christmas Day with his mom and his stepdad and the other with his dad and his stepmom. Joe never really had talked a lot about his parents divorce and how his childhood was. 
Fortunately, you couldn’t relate. Your mom and dad had been happily married for thirty years. The plan was to fly in and see them the week after Christmas with Joe in tow. At first, you weren’t sure how your parents would take you moving to another country to be with your fiancé. However they both were supportive of your relationship.
They had always been supportive of you and your decisions throughout life, making comments that they had raised a smart daughter, you had your head on your shoulders, etc. All the ones most parents said about their responsible children. It made your feel good, made you feel like you had completed your due diligence of being their child. 
You rolled your eyes playfully at Joe before laughing lightly. “Come on, babe. Don’t be a Scrooge.”
Joe sighed lightly. “I’m not being a Scrooge. Just wondering why we waited until the absolute last minute to buy my mum and dad’s presents along our mate’s.”, he tried to feign a fake smile and chuckle. 
Something with his energy seemed off, but you couldn’t quite place your finger on it. 
“They were your friends first. And you can’t show up to your parent’s houses empty handed.”
Joe held your peacoat, helping you slip into it. One thing about him was certain. He was a gentleman. 
“It’s going to be so busy.”, he groaned lightly. 
He wasn’t doing such a great job at hiding his disdain for the holiday activity you both were about to take part in. 
“Why don’t we just try and make the best of it? You know I hate waiting until last minute to do anything especially Christmas shopping. My anxiety is through the roof.”, you admitted as he grabbed the door knob, opening the door to your all’s house that you shared.
Immediately, you both felt the nip of the winter wind causing you both to grimace. You pulled your peacoat tighter, beginning to button it quick and in a hurry. It was something you had learned to do in the past year of living here.
“I’m going to try.”, he looked at you. “I started the car so it’d be warm for us.”
“Thanks.”, you smiled softly as he let you out the door first, carefully locking it behind you both.
He rushed down the steps in order to make it to the car before you did. A smile came across your face as you remembered why. Him being the gentleman his parents had raised him to be, there was no way you were opening your own car door. He never gave the opportunity for that to happen and he wouldn’t either. It was something that was important to him, just one of the many he ways he showed you he cared. 
You looked up at him, feeling the cold air nip at your nose. He finally gave you a soft smile as he opened the car door, making sure you got in safely, and closed the door once he mad sure your appendages had made it safely into the car. You watched him through the defrosted windshield coming over to the other side, wasting no time in getting before shutting the door. He rubbed his hands together easily, shivering lightly. 
Joe wasn’t usually affected by the cold. He was used to it, being raised in London and all. Winters were harsher there. He had told you that before you moved to be with him. He was brutally honest about everything before allowing you to move to be with him. But you respected that. 
“Cold?”, you asked lightly.
“I’m freezing.”, he admitted with a soft chuckle as he leaned over, giving you the perfect position to kiss him in. “Warm me up.”
He flashed his puppy dog brown eyes at you playfully, the ones he used when he was being a little cheeky. You’d never admit it with words, but he already knew that he could win you over with that look. 
“When we get home.”, you smirked back at him before leaning down and giving him a kiss. 
“Fine.”, he feigned being hurt. 
You smirked over at him as you linked your phone to his car. One way or another, you were determined to get him in the Christmas spirit no matter what it took. Scrolling through your phone, you decided on a song finally to kick off the car ride. The beginning notes of “Like It’s Christmas” by the Jonas Brothers came on, causing you to begin giggling to yourself. Joe shot you a look immediately, a coy smirk working its way across his lips.
“Really?”, he asked through a small laugh.
“Come on, babe. It’s one of my favorites.”
“I’m aware, love. Just didn’t know we had to endure the boy bands along with the other chaos surrounding today.”
Your eyes panned down to your lap, trying to ignore the pang in your chest. He didn’t mean it like that, did he? Shaking your head lightly, you continued to try and convince yourself that he didn’t mean it like that. The happy, bright Christmas music continued to play in the background but now you weren’t really in the mood to sing now. Joe’s grip tightened on the steering wheel as you all continued to the mall. You were beginning to wonder if this was the best idea. But you were determined to put him in the Christmas spirit. That was your ultimate goal. 
“I’m kidding.”, he choked out.
But you didn’t really feel like he was joking.
After a little convincing, he finally got you singing even if he wasn’t doing much of it himself. 
As Joe searched for parking, you could begin to tell his patience was beginning to wear thin. He swore a little, a few obscenities coming out of his mouth at how crowded and congested it was. Once he noticed you had heard him or was watching him, he abruptly cut them short. He was trying his best for you whether you knew it or not. He was struggling to be in the spirit this year but how could he tell you? The answer was simple. He wouldn’t. 
It had taken a week or two after Thanksgiving for him to finally get his ass in gear and help you put the tree up. He remembered you saying back home, you usually put the tree up after Thanksgiving. Like literally the night of or the next day. He could remember laughing, thinking you were a little obsessed with Christmas but he found it cute, if he was being honest. It’s part of what made you—well, you. He didn’t understand what was really going on with him this year. 
But he didn’t have much time to think about that as he shifted the car, placing it in park and eyes panning over to you. 
“Ready, love?”, he asked with a sigh. 
“Yes.”
"Here goes nothing.”, he smirked easily. 
Westfield was always busy. But it was especially busy at Christmas time. Today, was no exception. Maybe it was even worse. Joe was going to go with worse. 
“So where are we going first?”, he asked, grabbing your hand lightly. 
“Uh—what about we hit up Burberry? Weren’t you wanting to get your dad a new scarf?”
Joe shrugged. “I guess.”
“You guess?”, you repeated back. “Joe, I need you to help me here. You know your family and friends better than I know them. I get we’ve been together almost two years but you know more of what they like.”
“Sure, we can get dad a new Burberry scarf Sounds good, love.”
Entering the mall, Joe could feel his blood pressure rising. It was so crowded—especially to be Christmas Eve. Hadn’t people finished already? They should have, you all included. Joe began to tug at his scarf lightly, feeling as though it was choking him. He needed to breathe. 
“Can you at least give me some input? Gifts are special. I love gift giving. It’s my love language.”
Joe also loved to give—taking his friends out to eat or cooking a meal, buying you things here and there just to show you he loved you and cared so you were confused as to why he was being indifferent now. 
“I know, love.”
You sighed lightly as you felt like you had to practically drag him into Burberry. The employee greeted you both, asking if you were looking for anything specific. You explained you’d like to find a scarf for your future father in law.  She led you to the patterned scarves, leaving you both to make the decision on which would fit Joe’s dad the best. 
“What about this one?”, you turned back to show him the archived beige cashmere scarf. 
“Yeah, looks good.”
Joe barely flicked his eyes up from his cell phone. 
“Joe.”
Joe’s eyes pulled up from his cell phone once again.. “I said it looks good, love. I’m sure he’ll love it.”
You huffed lightly in frustration before closing your eyes and trying to remind yourself what today was about. Yes, Joe was being totally intolerable right now but you were still very much in the Christmas spirit and you were not about to let him ruin that for you. You would convert him before it was all said and done. 
Picking up the scarf, your voice came out sharper than you had intended. “Okay, let’s checkout.”
What was so important on his phone that it couldn’t wait? This behavior was very unusual for him. He never let anything distract him around you—not his phone, not anything. He followed you to the counter, wasting no time in handing you his wallet to pay for everything. Sighing, you forked over his debit card and watched as the cashier swiped it and handed it back to you, allowing you to place it back in his wallet. She asked if this was a gift (it was a different associate than earlier) to which you answered yes. 
Proceeding, she asked if you all wanted it gift wrapped. Once again, you found yourself being the only one to answer her question. It was as if she could sense some tension between you both. 
“Finishing up last minute Christmas shopping?”, she tried to make casual conversation.
“Yeah, we’re usually never this late.”, you fake laughed. 
She sensed it. “It happens to the best of us.”
“It does.”, you agreed, almost gritting your teeth and hoping Joe could hear the annoyance laced in your voice. 
“Here you are. Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. Thank you for shopping with us today.”
A fake smile spread across your lips. “Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you as well.”
Once again, Joe was not interacting with you, this only causing for your blood to boil further.  However, he finally put his cell phone away for a few minutes. You were glad—because you were afraid you would have said something you may have regretted. You didn’t want to fight with him today. Sure, every couple has their disagreements but which ones argue near Christmas time? You didn’t want you all to be the one. After taking a small break to run to the restroom and talk some sense into yourself and attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, you felt a little more positive. 
“So what all do we need?”
“What do you mean, love?”
“What all are you planning on getting everyone? All we have so far is a Burberry sweater for your dad.”
“Uh, let’s see.”, Joe began. “I guess we can get Wes some top shelf booze.”
“Okay. That leaves Ollo and your mom.”
“I’m not sure what to get Ollo.”, Joe admitted. 
“Doesn’t he like photography?”
Every answer that you were getting from Joe was like pulling teeth. It didn’t—and shouldn’t be this hard to pick up gifts for your loved ones. You spent a lot of time throughout the year thinking of the perfect gifts to give everyone in your life. You didn’t understand what was holding him up. Finally, you decided to help him. 
“What about a new sleek leather camera bag?”
“Yeah, that’s good.”
Good. That was the best adjective he could come up with to describe what you considered to be a very thoughtful gift for his friend. The rest of the day felt almost like agony. You all had spent more time than you had intended at the mall, totaling five hours in what could have only taken a couple of hours. It was five-thirty, almost six. The mall was closing at six. Joe carried most of the bags. It seemed like it was totally against his will which only dampened your mood further. 
You all had gotten Ollo his leather camera bag, Wes his top shelf booze, and his mom a Gucci scarf and gloves. 
“Ready to go, love? They’re closing in thirty minutes. And I don’t know about you but I’m so ready to get out of here and head home.”
“Yeah.”, came your short response. 
You were at the end of your fuse. Walking towards the exit, Joe attempted to grab your hand with his free one. Loosely, you allowed him to intertwine his with yours, hoping he would get the hint. But it didn’t seem that he had yet. The winter wind nipped at your nose as you all walked outside to the car. Joe let go of your hand to unlock the car door. And before he could even attempt to come to your side and open the door for you, you beat him to the punch.
Frustrated and hurt didn’t even begin to describe your emotions right now. Joe looked confused as you slammed the door shut lightly, grabbing your seatbelt and fastening it. You watched in the mirror as he shook it off and loaded all the bags inside the car before getting in himself and starting the car. Your phone automatically linked back up, Christmas songs beginning to play in a loop. You were no longer in the mood to be joyous and in the spirit. 
“Love?”
“Hm?”
“Are you okay? You seem—off.”
Joe tried to start the conversation lightly, easing into it. 
“I’m fine.”, you insisted, crossing your arms.
Your body language definitely indicated otherwise. 
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”, you snapped, almost instantly regretting it but it was enough for him to stop prodding. 
The rest of the car ride home was in silence other than the radio playing upbeat Christmas songs. Ones you would usually sing along to, but not today. Not now. Ten minutes away from home, you cut the radio off  and let the rest of the ride be in complete silence. Joe knew he had fucked up and in a big way. The sun had set by the time you all pulled into your driveway. The outside light illuminated the driveway as he placed the car in park, shutting it off. 
You wasted no time in unbuckling and grabbing your fair share of presents to carry inside.
“Do you have the house keys?”, you asked dryly. 
“Yeah, here.”, Joe handed them to you and he could have sworn you almost ripped them out of his hands. 
He watched as you marched up to the door, unlocking it, and disappeared inside. It took him a few minutes to catch up, but when he entered the house he noticed you had set everything down on the couch and had disappeared into the bedroom. The door was closed. His brown eyes panned to the Christmas tree, the one you always plugged in as soon as you all arrived home from whatever errands you had to run. It sat in darkness. His heart sank knowing something was wrong with you. 
He sat the armful of presents on the couch beside your pile before he hurriedly kicked his shoes off, racing to your all’s shared bedroom. He turned the doorknob but it didn’t open. 
“Baby?”
No answer. You had never given him the silent treatment before. Sighing, he tried the door again but to no avail. It was obvious you didn’t want to be bothered. What had he done that was so wrong? He needed to figure it out and fast. Walking back over to the couch, he sat done on the section that was clear of the pile of presents. What could he do to fix whatever he had broken? The house was silent. The silence only feeding into his dilemma. 
He didn’t have much time to wallow in his woes before his phone dinged. Wasting no time, he picked it up and looked at the name. Wes. 
-Hey. What time are we doing dinner Tuesday?
Joe typed back quickly. 
-We were thinking around six. Does that work?
A swoosh indicated his message had sent. 
It was just a few seconds before his phone dinged again. 
-Sounds good. Finish up your last minute Christmas shopping with Y/N?
He sighed before typing back.
-Yeah, we did. But I feel like she’s mad at me.
-How come?
Joe sighed, beginning to text with a recount of the day. He started from the very beginning and worked his way through your all’s entire day. Joe’s heart sank into his stomach, realizing where and how he had probably went wrong once he saw the entire day in a tangible, typed messaged. From the beginning, he hadn’t seemed very thrilled that you all were going last minute Christmas shopping. Then, he wasn’t exactly thrilled with your music choices. 
-I know Christmas is usually hard for you and it’s not exactly your favorite. Especially since your parents divorced. But it sounds like she was really trying to include you and make you happy this Christmas. It’s your first as an engaged couple.  She may feel like you could care less and she’s hurt by that. 
-How do I fix it?
Joe felt stupid even sending that question to Wes. But he needed an idea where to start. 
-Give in and get in the Christmas spirit. 
Wesley made it sound so easy. But before Wesley could even respond, Joe had an idea brewing in his head. He had been really shitty in the fiancé department today, especially when you tried to include him in the sing-alongs in the car, picking out his friends and family’s Christmas presents (which you helped put a lot of thought in, proving you cared about them just as much as he did), and just making the best of  the day together with someone you loved. 
Rising from the couch, he went over and plugged the tree in. It instantly lit up the small corner of the living room, making it feel more cozy and comfy. He admired it for a moment, the glare of the lights on the tree reflecting on the various pictures of you both hanging on the wall. In all the pictures, you both looked so happy and in love. Step one was complete. 
Joe’s phone dinged again, reminding him that he hadn’t viewed the message from Wes. But he didn’t think he needed to. He knew what he needed to do. Making his way into the kitchen, he flipped on the lights and pulled a few ingredients from the fridge before slipping your very merry apron on. You had a special one just for the holidays to make things a little more festive. He couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath. It made him smile. You did the cutest things. 
His mom always made the best gingerbread cookies at Christmas time. And he was about to attempt to recreate that recipe. They probably wouldn’t be as good as hers, but it was worth a try, right? He had made them with her most of the time, especially when he was a little boy. It was time to keep the tradition alive. What else could be better to set the mood than putting on a little Christmas music? 
He turned on the playlist you had made, specifically for the holidays. You had shared it with him on Spotify. The festive music began filling the house as he mixed the ingredients in a bowl, landing the flour everywhere but where it needed to go. The kitchen almost looked slightly hazy, causing him to laugh lightly. He had to admit this was kinda fun, making him feel a little warm and fuzzy inside. All he needed was you to make this feel complete.
Another idea popped into his brain, one he could maybe use to coerce you out of the bedroom. You loved hot chocolate. Swiss Miss was your favorite with the tiny little marshmallows but you always added some more to give it the perfect amount. Digging in the cabinets, he found a packet. He followed the instructions and heated up a cup of hot water before mixing the packet of hot chocolate mix into it. He managed to find your stash of mini marshmallows and poured a few into the cup, making it look like something out of Hallmark movie. 
He had paused his baking because he needed you to help him finish them. It didn’t feel right to continue on without you. Grabbing your cup of hot chocolate, he closed his eyes and attempted to talk himself up before reaching the bedroom door. He knocked gently. 
“Love. Can you open up?”
A few seconds went by and he wondered if you were going to let him in or continue to shut him out. His hope was fading, a sigh escaping him as he almost turned to go. But you opened the door, sniffling lightly. 
“Joe?”
“Yes, love?”, he spun around carefully, keeping the hot chocolate from spilling. 
“Did you make me—hot chocolate?”
“I did.”
“You added the marshmallows just like I like them.”
He laughed nervously. “Of course I did. I know how much you love them.”
You smiled lightly, your sniffles fading. He could tell you had been crying and that made him feel even worse. It was like a dagger through his heart. He hated seeing you sad and didn’t even want to think about you crying. 
“Look, I’m sorry I’ve been a jerk today. I wasn’t the best fiancé. And for that, I’m sorry. Christmas has just always been a difficult time for me.”, he looked down nervously at his feet before looking back up at you. 
Your face was sympathetic. “Joe.”
“And I realize you were just trying to make me feel better and include me in the holiday festivities. I’m very sorry I was such an ass today.”
“Joe.”
“I love you baby and I just—”
“Joe.”, you spoke louder, trying to gain his attention, finally succeeding even if you had to interrupt his sentence. “Are you making something gingerbread or are you burning one of my candles?”
“I’m attempting to bake using my mother’s recipe for gingerbread man cookies. It only seems fitting you help me—if you want to.” 
“Of course, I do.”, you came closer and leaned in, placing a kiss on his cheek. “And can I have my hot chocolate before it becomes cold chocolate?”, you teased.
“Yeah.”, he laughed nervously before handing it to you, you following behind him.
You noticed he had plugged the tree up, giving light to the living room. It was one of your favorite things at Christmas time. Seeing the tree light up the room in almost complete darkness. 
“You plugged the tree in?”, you asked, taking a sip of your hot chocolate.
It felt like a warm hug. 
“I did.”, he smiled back at you, the sparkle finally in his brown eyes. 
“And you’re playing my Christmas playlist.”
A smirk was creeping across your face. 
“I am.”, he smiled back at you. 
You couldn’t help but smile as you followed him into the kitchen, noticing all the ingredients and gingerbread cookie cutters on the counter hidden in a pile of flour. He was really trying and that meant more to you than anything.
“Christmas has just been hard for me since my parents divorced. I’m sorry—it’s not fair to you. I just remember the holidays being difficult because I had to split time between both sides of my family and between both parents. They love me and I’m thankful for that—I even feel selfish for feeling this way but it was hard when all my friends got to celebrate with their perfect families.”, Joe began rolling the dough out. 
“I’m sorry that it’s been difficult for you, babe. But we have each other now. We’re family—we can start our own traditions. We can see your parents but maybe set some traditions up just for us?”
Joe looked over at you. “I’d love that.”
“Yeah? Me too.”
“Maybe soon we can make these with our kids.”
You giggled. “I’d love that. So much.”
You both leaned in and shared a soft, tender kiss. As you both pulled away to admire each other, your favorite modern Christmas song came on. The one from earlier, the Jonas Brother’s “Like It’s Christmas”. Joe couldn’t help but begin to smirk as you both pulled away. 
The snow on the ground, love in the air
The sleigh bells are ringing
This is what it’s all about
The fire is warm, the angles are singing
Joe watched you intently, smiling from ear to ear as he watched you begin singing the lyrics. It was a matter before he joined in on the second part. 
And I don’t want to miss a single thing
Don’t wanna put end to all this cheer
But as long as you’re with me, it’s always the time of the year 
You both sang the chorus, looking deeply into each other’s eyes as you continued to work on cutting out gingerbread men. 
You make every day feel like it’s Christmas
Never wanna stop
Feeling’ like the first thing on your wishlist
Right up at the top
I can’t deny what I’m feeling inside
Nothin’ fake about the way you bring me to life
You make every day feel like it’s Christmas
Ever day that I’m with you
“You do know the lyrics.”, you teased him, taking another sip of your hot chocolate while raising your eyebrows. 
“Only because it’s true.”
“What’s true?”
“You make everyday feel like it’s Christmas. Like you’re the best present I’ve ever received and you make me the happiest man in the entire world and I can’t wait to marry you.”
“I love you.”, you sighed dreamily. 
“I love you too.”
“Wanna start on that new tradition?”
“And what’s that?”, Joe teased.
“Well, if you’re serious about making these cookies with our own babies in a few years.”
“I’ll meet you in the bedroom.”
“By the way, the holiday apron—very sexy.”, you smirked, sitting your hot chocolate down.
87 notes · View notes
aconflagrationofmyown · 7 months
Text
Marie Presley, interview for Rolling Stone Magazine, 1997, introducing her film TLC: The Presley Way
A Sarge & lil Mama blurb, 2nd generation: Marie. word count 2k, PG rating, mentions of divorce
Tumblr media
Marie: “You know, I’m used to being asked how it impacted me being the child with the least ‘parental involvement.’ But I really don’t get it, not even when my siblings joke that Elvis was more like Santa to me than dad, a merry-making stranger who showed up once in a blue moon to spread love and cheer before rushing back to the workshop to make more goodies the rest of the year.
“Maybe there’s some truth in that but how was I to know? I didn’t know anything differently than what I had, just like lots of kids you don’t know what else you could’ve had, just like I didn’t know anything different from being very privileged, um, just as my dad didn’t know any different from being very poor.
“But what I do know is that I was very loved, I have been my whole life, and what I have are a treasure trove of memories, extensive amounts of time spent with him at all ages. I look at it this way, we wouldn’t say someone is fatherless just because their dad is gone every day of their life from seven in the morning to six in the evening, that’s a whole lotta time to be gone.
“Whereas I had months on end where I saw Dad from sunup to sundown, slept in my parents bed, ate and played and read with them. Spent time on homework and perhaps most personally impactful, I had my own interests nurtured by them. Dad spoiled me, there’s no question about it, but it wasn’t in the way of rich men giving their kids toys and telling them to then run along, leave them alone.
“Dad engaged with me on everything and anything interesting to me, anything that interested my siblings he would spend hours on it, not even the fun part of say -photography. But the boring details, too. If there was a new camera he would get it for me and together we could figure out how to make it work, how to develop the film, how to get the perfect exposure.
“We’d pour over artists' work and do our best to mimic them. It was play but it was always constructive, and when I think back on those late Vegas afternoons that were his mornings, that he would spend tirelessly engaged with me and my siblings, only to then have to go out and perform multiple times into the night, the adult in me is exhausted and grateful that he took the time. That he did it all so cheerfully that I had no idea how worn out he was.
“The divorce years were hard, I was an eight year old and definitely attuned to the different dynamics in my family. I was very close with my sister Ella who was extremely unhappy at the time, maybe more so than most of my siblings. So her discontent rubbed off on me a little, confused me. But for the most part I didn’t notice a big change, mom and daddy really tried to keep it under wraps, multiple times they insisted there wasn’t a team to pick, and maybe that was too nuanced for the older kids but I got it, I chose not to pick teams.
And before it had lasted very long, we were all back together again.
“Daddy didn’t have a tour, what with Colonel Parker being under investigation, and he stayed home because of Danny, and Daisy and then they got remarried. It was a blip for me really. I got to live with Ella, I got to travel around with Jesse and dad, I got to visit Rosalee out at college. It seemed more like a vacation bouncing than banishment. I was really fine with it, maybe I’m just built that way, it wasn’t as devastating as it might’ve been for another child.
“I do remember my ninth birthday being the single bummer of it all. Or at least, the day started off going decidedly down hill.
“I was the baby who made it after the tragedy of them losing Jo, and you beat believe dad always made a huge deal of my birthday. He’d always tickle the Angel kisses on the back of my neck and remind everyone how Jo and Gladys sent me, mama would recount the story of my birth and my siblings would recall how they laid hands on mama’s belly and prayed I’d come out safe every day for eight months before I was born.
So after nine years of this, when I came downstairs in ‘77 to find that the earth and divorce proceedings hadn’t screeched to a stop just to celebrate me, I was pretty miffed.
I remember just feeling like the vibes were really off at the house, even though dad had come back to celebrate, it was obvious he was very upset with mom. I remember Jesse took me riding on his bike that day, we got out of the house and had fun and I remember when he put me on it, mom and dad were in a deep discussion on the porch, apparently about the fact that I was having a meltdown over not being treated special enough. I've already admitted I was very spoiled, OK folks?
“But the real big thing for me was that by the time I came back from that ride and opened my presents and we ate dinner, things seemed perfectly fine, normal and natural. That night we went through our usual routine and I climbed in the bed with mom and dad like old times. Now that I think about it, that was probably the first time in months that they slept together, and they did that for me. And they did it so naturally and it was really a happy evening, even for them, I think.
“It’s funny how professional you can get at getting along when you’ve had to endure so much like they had, one night of harmony in the middle of a divorce wasn’t a big hurdle for them. There was so much love still there and so much practice, just a lotta confusion. You can see why I wasn’t very surprised when Mama showed up with a baby and a wedding band back on her finger. It might sound bizarre to outsiders, and it’s certainly been portrayed like that by some of our closest friends, but in this film I’d like to set the record straight. It’s what I saw lived out.
Love can be very chaotic sometimes, complex and bizarre but it tries its best. It seeks the good of others. It’s the catalyst for great things and produces generous hearts. And my family certainly did just that.”
Thanks for letting me bug ya with a blurb, and slowly but surely I’m putting faces to the kids, and their stories too. So much thanks goes to my girlies who hash this out with my for hours on end in the chats. The chats are the new trenches, ok? It’s where ya make your Bestest buddies.
@paradsol000
@eliseinmemphis
@prompted-wordsmith
@ab4eva
@foreverdolly
@powerofelvis
@butlersxbirdy
@crash-and-cure
@elvisabutler
@heartbrake-hotel
@stylespresleyhearted
@thatbanditqueen
@crazymadpassionatelove
@myradiaz
@ash-omalley
@arianatheangelgirl
@steph-speaks
@burningloverdoll
@angelface-555
@lookingforrainbows
@missmaywemeetagain
@coolgirl462
@kingdomforapony
@18lkpeters
@richardslady121
@from-memphis-with-love
@lillypink
@artlover8992
@pennyroyalcreep
@notstefaniepresley
@ellie-24
@renaissingle
@waiting4brucewayne2adoptme
@presleyenterprise
@marriedtopresley
@ashtag2887
@dkayfixates
@vampireindistress
@ashtag6887
@i-r-i-n-a-a
@obsessedvibee
@peskybedtime
@goth-cowgirl-03
@stephthestallion
@fav-fanficssss
@loving-elvis
@honeyorangess
@soloangel
@xenaspace3-blog
@60svintage
84 notes · View notes
bit-dodgy-innit · 2 years
Text
Un Pequeño Enamoramiento (A Little Crush)
Tumblr media
(Gif is not mine - if it’s yours lmk and I’ll credit you!)
Part of my 500 Follower Celebration set in my SHAPE OF YOU AU
The Prompt: Your mom has a crush on Jake and his Latino charm.
Requested by: my not secret love @my-secret-shame
Pairing: Jake x afab!reader, with Marc x afab!reader and Steven x afab!reader,  Reader is engaged to the system, references to past Marc x Layla 
Word Count: 2.9k 
Spice-o-meter: 🌶🌶 - Rated M, references to sexual content and non-graphic depictions of sex 
CW/TW: mentions of abuse, divorce, references to societal judgement regarding D.I.D, mentions of penetrative and oral sex, as well as anal play (hola it’s Jake after all), and thirsty middle-aged women 
A/N: Ohohohoho this came out angstier than I thought it would, but you know I can never get too dark without having fun too! Also remember in the Shape of You, reader’s parent love the boys, but I thought it could be interesting to see how they got there. 
Having your significant other meet your parents tends to be an anxiety-inducing experience, one made even more treacherous by the fact that your boyfriend had Dissociative Identity Disorder, a checkered past as a mercenary, and a failed married under his belt. Marc, as wonderful and considerate as he was, was a tough sell on paper. 
The first time you introduced your then-boyfriend to your parents, you had tried to get them to go easy on Marc, sharing that he didn’t have a relationship with his family anymore, in addition to personally attesting to the growth he’d shown after his divorce. 
It sort of worked. At the very least, your parents steered clear of asking Marc about his, but your dad deployed precisely zero tact when he questioned Marc on why he’d gotten divorced. Your boyfriend handled it like a champ, sitting next to you wearing the blazer you knew hated, answering their questions as honestly as he could, and insisting on paying for dinner. 
But you’d definitely noticed that Marc had been drinking. And not just his customary couple of beers after a long day of work, your boyfriend steadily put down several glasses of hard alcohol. Even crazier was how little he seemed to be affected by the veritable bottle of Jack he’d just pumped into his system. He hadn’t slurred even a single word.  
You had tried to referee the dinner as best as you could and did everything within your means to support Marc afterwards. But he was withdrawn the rest of the evening, responding to all of your questions and affirmations of love monosyllabically. He even turned down your offer to deep throat him in gratitude for pushing through what must have been an intense and maybe triggering meal for him. You went to bed in silence and the next morning, you woke up next to Steven. 
Marc needed space and time to process, you knew this, but it still frustrated you that he wouldn’t so much as share, let alone work through, his feelings with you. Though, he had done something major for you and your relationship last night, you could give him a minute. Thankfully a fire at work helped distract you in the short-term. 
Your mom met you for lunch near your office that afternoon, and when your respective cups of tea and salads arrived, the first thing she said about the night before was, “I can see why you like him. He’s very handsome.”
“He is, but I don’t just like him, mom. I’m in love with him and we’re building a life together.” Geez, couldn’t your mom give you a little credit? You didn’t love Marc only because you were shallow and a whore for his thick cock. 
She winced, and not because her beverage was too hot. “Sweet pea, he seems like a great guy, but it’s clear he has a lot of baggage.” 
You nearly spit your tea out. She had no idea. 
“That’s a lot for you to also shoulder as well, and not just emotionally. If you two get married, there’ll be financial and legal implications. Stuff like that can bubble up in really ugly ways years down the line.”
“I know. I know all of his baggage, and he knows all of mine, and we love and accept each other for it,” you kept going to prevent your mother from interjecting, “and, not that it’s really any of your business, but Marc is…working on what he needs to. Mom, we both want the same things, and besides, I want you to like him, but if you don’t, that’s not going to stop me from marrying him.”
“Oh I’m well aware,” she huffed. Your mom was one to talk, after all you inherited your stubbornness from her. “So you two have discussed getting married?” 
“Yes,” you replied instantly, you wanted there to be no room for doubt, on your parents but also on your end too. Because despite being on the same page with your boyfriend about the next step in your relationship, a ring had yet to appear. “And he hasn’t run for the hills. I wish…Marc takes a minute to warm up. I think it would be good for you to meet him again. Maybe we could have you over for lunch this weekend, and he and Dad can watch a game or something. My gut says last night spooked him, plus he really wanted to make a good impression, but then Dad went and grilled him about his ex-wife.” 
Your mom agreed that a second go was the right move. They came over Sunday, and once she could see your boyfriend in a less stuffy environment, and he started talking baseball with your dad, all was well. 
***
Even though your parents had accepted Marc, they needed a lot of prep before they met his alters. You knew it was only natural that they had a lot of questions, D.I.D. was so stigmatized and sensationalized in the media, and that had been their only exposure. They became much more open to understanding when Marc gave you permission to explained that he’d suffered so much loss and trauma as a child (they didn’t ever need to know about mercenary work and the stint with Khonshu).
To be honest, you weren’t sure how you would’ve reacted if you knew Marc had D.I.D. upfront. Now, you couldn’t imagine life without Steven and Jake. They were your boys, who all adored and supported you in their distinct and equally beautiful ways. 
Several emailed articles and hour-long conversations later, you believed your parents were ready to meet your other lovers. The introductions would take place when you and your now fiancé spent the holidays with them. You had strategized both with your parents and the boys who should meet who first and how it should all go down. So detailed was your planning, it made D-Day look like the Allies winged it at Normandy. 
Though you knew it would take your mom and dad exactly .23 seconds to fall in love with Steven just like you had, Jake had actually volunteered to go first. His reasoning was “I’m great with moms.” 
You had no clue what that meant, especially given Marc’s dark past with his mother, but he wanted to do it and you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Mom and Dad were briefed that Jake would be arriving with you, and when they welcomed you into your childhood home with the customary fanfare, you were so nervous you wanted to laugh, cry, and vomit all at the same time.
Turned out you had nothing to worry about however, because Jake had been right. He was great with moms. He greeted yours with a double cheek-kiss, called her Señora, and the woman fucking melted. 
“We’re so happy you’re here,” she giggled (fucking giggled!), “thanks for making the trek. Hopefully it wasn’t too much of a hassle.”
You were too shocked to be annoyed that your own mother hadn’t said hello to you yet. Instead, you looked at your dad flabbergasted. He acknowledged your surprise, murmuring “she did always love Antonio Banderas,” and then promptly dismissed it with a shrug. 
Your mom claimed that she absolutely needed to show you to your room, as if it wasn’t the bedroom you’d slept in until you left for uni and could find it blindfolded. You suspected it was because she wanted to watch Jake carry your suitcases, which…fair. The four of you fancied yourselves quite modern in your relationship, all very much considering each other as partners, but there was something primally tantalizing about watching a hot, strong man carry something heavy for you. 
It was only after Jake had bent over to place your suitcases down and got an eyeful of his denim-clad ass that your mom noticed your engagement ring, having never seen it in person before. 
“Oh sweet pea, it’s stunning!” She gazed at Jake from underneath her eyelashes. “You chose beautifully.” 
“Thank you,” he preened. 
“De nada,” she said, flaunting one of the whopping ten Spanish words she knew. 
“Muy bien!” Jake commended her. 
Finally, finally, she left you two alone to get settled and you faceplanted onto the bed as soon as the door shut.  
“I told you so.” Smug, sexy bastard. 
You turned so you could see him. “It beats the alternative I guess.” 
“Just watch,” Jake began while he unzipped his suitcase, “I’ll help cook dinner and have her eating out of the palm of my hand.” 
“As long as it’s not literally,” you retorted. 
Your cheekiness compelled him to pounce on top of you, the two of you rolling around your bed (thank goodness you’d upgraded to a queen as a teenager) and trading giggly, giddy kisses atop it. 
“I’m happy you’re here,” you whispered, trying to nuzzle impossibly closer to him.
“Yo también,” he concurred, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. “Other than the basics, your parents can’t speak Spanish, si?” 
“Si,” you confirmed. “Only me.” 
“Fantástico. Para que pueda decir lo que quiera delante de ellos, como lo mucho que quiero follarte en esta cama.”
“Jake!” you reproached him. 
“Lo siento,” he apologized half-heartedly, pushing himself off the bed, “Vamos y podemos ayudar tu madre con la cena.”
“Bien,” you consented. “Tengo mucho hambre.” 
Jake was so damn charming and delightful over the next two days he was nearly laying it on too thick. You were thrilled your parents, specifically your mom, approved of him, but there was a perverse little jealous part of you that couldn't help but wonder how they’d feel if your parents knew what your fiancé did to their daughter behind closed doors, and in his past life as an avatar. 
Yet when Jake’s three days of the trip were up – the plan was each alter would front exclusively for a third of the trip, Jake first, Steven second, and Marc last – you understood exactly why your fiancé had gone to such lengths to ingratiate himself with your family. When Steven came downstairs with you for breakfast on his first morning, your parents barely batted an eyelash. 
Marc had shared that historically, Jake had been the system’s protector. He was the one who took over when Marc or Steven had been overwhelmed, and you were shocked to learn that the other two men had only learned of his existence about a year or so before you met Marc. 
Jake’s actions made perfect sense. Even though your parents had left in a good place with Marc during their last visit, he wanted to make sure they couldn’t hold his D.I.D. against them. Jake would warm them up to the idea of three men existing inside of the body their daughter loved so Steven and Marc could have just a smooth visit as he did with their future in-laws. 
Your mom raved about him when the two of you went for an early walk. Your dad had a last-minute work call and Jake was dozing after the morning head you’d treated him to for being fiancé-extraordinaire.
“Oh honey,” she gushed. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this but, he’s so…sexy, but such a gentleman too!” 
“Right?” You’d decided the first night of the stay to not fight your mom’s crush on Jake. “Just wait until you meet Steven tomorrow, he’s just as wonderful, but in a different way.” 
“You know, I can hardly believe they’re all technically the same person,” she mused, then caught herself. “Not that they’re not their own people but they share—“
“I get it,” you cut her short to let her know it was okay. “I always tell them how different they look.”
“It can’t be easy, loving essentially three different people like that,” she remarked, surprising you with her unexpectedly astute observation. 
“I mean, yes and no,” you replied. It was beyond difficult for you to put into words. “They’re all their own people but each part of a whole at the same time. It was definitely an adjustment. But now I wouldn’t want it any other way.” 
“You make a beautiful couple,” she told you, and her endorsement of the man you loved nearly brought you to tears in front of your neighbors' house. 
***
That night, your parents had a bunch of family over, and you instructed them to introduce your fiancé as Jake and just leave it at that for the time being. It was the holidays, so the alcohol was flowing even more freely than usual, so it really wasn’t a problem. Your extended family, God love ‘em, were never great with names to begin with and you could always tell them that when Marc was drunk his accent came out. 
It wasn’t that you were trying to hide or were ashamed of his D.I.D., but you and your fiancé were realistic about how other people would perceive it and him. It was often easier and less stressful to breeze past the tough conversations and protect your lovers’ peace if you didn’t think others would receive the information in a healthy way. 
One of your relatives had turned on the stereo and somehow the younger cousins, including you and Jake, were dancing in your parent’s living room. Dancing with Jake was one of your very favorite things to do, and while you didn’t get to do enough of it, the pair of you kept it tame given the setting. 
But when Jake showed off a little and twirled you, you couldn’t help but be transported to the dark, sultry underground salsa club the two of you first met at. Sex seemed to pulse in the air along with the bass and writhing bodies there, and it wasn’t long before you and this beguiling stranger who wore the same face as Marc and Steven joined them. After a few hours at that place, you hadn’t just ridden in Jake’s car home, you’d rode him in the car, the whole night blurring into a mix of tequila, salsa music, and sweat. 
The song ended and Jake whispered a question to you, his lips brushing against the delicate skin of your earlobe and making you shiver. You gave him your blessing and when he asked your mom to dance, you figured maybe you could tell her that Jake used to kill on behalf of an Egyptian god and loved to stick his fingers into your asshole because she was smitten with Jake Lockley. 
His dance partner now occupied, your dad engaged you in a little step touch together. He caught you watching your mom and fiancé with shining eyes. 
“He sure does make you happy,” he observed. 
“Yeah.” 
“And he respects you?” 
“Mmmhmmm.” 
“Good.” 
Your father wasn’t a man of many words, but he knew how to make them count. It made you chuckle to yourself, he was a big softie, but the boys revealed that despite saving the world from a power-hungry Egyptian goddess and literally dying, fulfilling the tradition of asking your father for your hand was one of the scariest things they’d ever done in their life. 
The song ended and you were reunited with your fiancé. He collected you in his arms as a slower, quieter song filled your parent’s living room. 
“You’re quite a tough act to follow Jake Lockley,” you noted while you gazed over his shoulder at your mother, still a bit flustered after her dance with him. 
“Disparates,” he dismissed the notion. “Estarán bien mientras no se pierdan en su propia cabeza.”
It was where Jake differed from his alters. Where Marc and Steven had their unique ways of wrapping themselves around their respective axles and overthinking things, Jake would simply act. He seemed to be more in tune with his instincts, though his tendency toward action could push the envelope toward impulsivity at times. 
“Well, you did a buen trabajo setting the stage for them,” you praised him. 
“Yeah, tell them to thank me, will you?” Jake pulled you closer to amend his previous thought.  “Or better yet, you could thank me for them.” 
“You’re insatiable,” you accused him blithely.  
Jake lips returned to your ear. “Y tú lo encantas.”
As much as you tried to deny it, he was right. Instead of admitting it, you turned your head to connect your lips and whispered “Te amo.” 
“Vamos arriba,” Jake entreated you, his gravelly tone irresistible.
Yet after you excused the two of you, you caught sight of your cousin Rachel as you and Jake were heading up. She beckoned you outside where she and her boyfriend Todd were having a covert couple of beers away from the barrage of questions from your relatives. You joined them, postponing your private expression of gratitude to Jake. 
He didn’t altogether mind, because for once you didn’t give him shit when he had a cigarette with Todd, plus you had all night to sneak in some sex. Mostly though, he was just happy to see you at ease and that he perhaps could be integrated into your family after all. 
Jake, nor Steven or Marc had had a family in a long time, and so he was relieved he took a step closer to joining yours. It was a terrifying proposition to them, especially Marc, but if you were by their side, any of them would walk through fire, go to the Duat and back, or hell, take another bullet or two. Thankfully, tonight merely called for schmoozing with your extended family, and Jake was happy to do it. 
A/N: Wooo! Slowly plowing through these fills! Hope the angst made the sweetness and spiciness worth it. We can’t blame reader’s mom, can we? Also, anyone else need more of Sr. Hernandez and ethnic hips dancing on screen? Because I’ll write and finance one just for him 🙃 
Taglist: @twwcs, @rmoonstoner, @hot-mess-express1, @murdickdocked, @toracainz, @saahmi, @unspokenmoon, @winterbiipp, @avatarofseshat @ilikeoldermenhelp , @losers-club6, @harrys-tittie, @ninebluehearts, @lucianadraven32, @dawnsutopia, @strawberry1042, @nikitawolfxo 
Translations: 
De nada - you’re welcome 
Muy bien - very good 
Yo también - Me too 
Si - yes 
Fantástico. Para que pueda decir lo que quiera delante de ellos, como lo mucho que quiero follarte en esta cama. - Fantastic. So I can say whatever I want in front of them, like how much I want to fuck you in this bed. 
Lo siento - I’m sorry 
Vamos y podemos ayudar tu madre con la cena -  Let’s go and help your mother with dinner. 
Bien - Okay 
Tengo mucho hambre - I am very hungry 
Disparates - Nonsense 
Estarán bien mientras no se pierdan en su propia cabeza. - They’ll be good as long as their don’t get lost in their own head. 
 buen trabajo - good job 
Y tú lo encantas - And you love it. 
Te amo - I love you 
Vamos arriba - Let’s go upstairs 
472 notes · View notes
sirianasims · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Chapter 22
A Million Dreams
Tumblr media
The university found out, of course. They gave me my diploma, but I wasn’t allowed to attend the graduation ceremony, and I was told to move off campus immediately. I had nowhere to go but home.
Tumblr media
My father, always the responsible one, was angry and disappointed.
No surprise there.
Tumblr media
My mother seemed more worried about the age difference. She said that we were at very different stages in life. Katherine being 38 had never bothered me before, but maybe my mother was right. I was only 23, so it was a pretty big gap.
Tumblr media
“We’ve given you everything, Eric. Always. Everything you wanted – and you almost threw away your entire future because you were thinking with the wrong head! I thought we raised you better than this.”
Tumblr media
“I know, dad. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen. And we… I thought we were being careful.”
Tumblr media
I hid my face in my hands.
“Just… not careful enough, I guess.”
Tumblr media
My father, of course, was thinking like a lawyer. He insisted that I should also get a paternity test.
Tumblr media
That hit me hard. I hadn’t even considered the fact that I might not be the father either.
Tumblr media
“Seriously, Eric, for all you know, the father could be any student on campus.”
Tumblr media
“That’s out of line, dad! Yes, we were stupid, but Katherine is not… she’s not like that.”
Tumblr media
My father looked at me, stone-faced.
“How certain are you, son?”
Tumblr media
I understood what he meant. The amount of cheating and lying he’d seen as a divorce lawyer for over three decades was staggering.
“I… I guess I can’t be sure.”
Tumblr media
Finally, my mother spoke up.
“Zane, honey, you’re being too hard on him. And her. We all make mistakes, remember? And this family wouldn’t even exist if my life – or yours – had turned out the way we originally planned.”
My father briefly glanced at the pictures behind us. I remembered hearing he’d once been engaged to someone else.
Tumblr media
“No amount of arguing can change what happened. What we need to do is find out how we can best help our son.”
Tumblr media
She put her hand on mine.
“And our possible grandchild.”
Tumblr media
I let out a sob, and my mother pulled me to her, hugging me tightly.
Tumblr media
As my mother held me, I wished I could go back to being the carefree teenager who had his life all figured out.
Was it really only a few years ago?
Tumblr media
My room had been left untouched while I was away. It was almost like travelling back in time – almost. I could hear my parents’ voices downstairs. It reminded me of the night the Sixams came for my brother.
I wondered what Daniel would be doing now if he hadn’t gone with them. We never heard from him anymore.
Tumblr media
My perfect brother definitely wouldn’t be going around knocking up married women, that’s for sure. But I had plenty of problems without worrying about him. How could I be so stupid? I had no idea what to do.
Tumblr media
I used to have my entire future planned out. I had a million dreams. Some people have a 5 year plan, I had a 25 year plan. Now I felt lost and uncertain.
Tumblr media
My father came in and sat on my bed. I quickly wiped away my tears.
Tumblr media
He apologised for being so hard on me. He told me that he had discussed things with my mother, and they had decided to do their best to make some of my dreams come true despite everything.
Tumblr media
Daniel was unlikely to ever return, so I was their only heir. My parents were going to cash in some of their assets and help me and Katherine get set up. He called it an early inheritance.
Tumblr media
The numbers he mentioned were intimidating. I always knew we were pretty well off, but I had no idea how much money my parents had accumulated in investments and savings over the years.
I accepted. It wasn't like I had any other options.
beginning / previous / next
25 notes · View notes
karizard-ao3 · 10 days
Note
Any sneek peeks of the divorce AU 👀👀👀
I think you mean the single parents au, where Eremika are each divorced but from other people? I just want to make sure you meant mine, because @strscrossed has an actual divorce au with Eremika being divorced from each other.
But if it's single parents you want, that I can definitely do! Read on for a snippet from chapter 2 (rough draft so subject to change).
"Why am I even telling you all this?" Eren said. "I'm sorry. I just…" He shook his head. 
She shot him a wry grin. “I’m used to it. I got married, had a kid, and got divorced before most of my social circle was even getting engaged. Everyone was always talking to me about this shit.” She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why. I’m the last one anyone should get life advice from. But I guess I was the only one who had any first-hand experience.”
“Sorry,” said Eren. “I didn’t mean to do it to you again.”
"I don’t know. I kind of like it when it’s you," said Mikasa, sipping her drink, then running her fingertip around the rim of the can. "It feels like… It feels like nothing's really changed and I'm still bossing you around like I did when we were kids."
Eren turned his head just enough to look at her. She was already looking back at him, her eyes as lovely and clear as the twilight sky behind her. Her cheeks flushed when their gazes met and she cleared her throat, looking down at her seltzer, and he wondered if they were both thinking about all the time they had lost when she didn’t come back. 
“I don’t know about that,” he said, choosing not to dwell on it. For tonight, they were friends again. That’s what mattered. "I don’t remember you bossing me around."   
"I assure you. I did," said Mikasa. "I was always telling you what to do." A smile played across her lips. “Remember when you were going to run away to join the Power Rangers?”
Eren let his head drop back. “Oh, Jesus. Yes,” he said. “My mom loves to tell this story. You were telling me not to go while I packed, but I wouldn’t listen to you, so you chased me outside and punched me in the face to stop me. Mom heard me screaming and came outside and found me with a backpack full of fruit snacks and frozen chicken nuggets, and my nose was bleeding and you were just standing there staring at me, and as soon as you saw my mom you said, ‘Your son thinks the Power Rangers are real and he’s trying to run away and join them, Mrs. Jaeger. But I stopped him. Don’t worry.’ I was so mad at you.”
“See?” she said, cocking her head, her eyes twinkling. “Bossy.”
“But not wrong,” said Eren, holding up a finger.
"I've always wondered why your mom didn't get me in trouble with my parents for hitting you," Mikasa mused. 
"Oh," said Eren. "That's because that wasn't the first time I tried to run away and she was just happy you stopped me in time so that she didn't need to call the police to find me again."
Mikasa gaped at him. 
"I get what I put her through now that I have a kid," said Eren. “I live in terror that Adri’s going to be a pathological runaway like I was.”
Mikasa began to laugh. "I don't think I ever realized what a handful you were until now," she said. 
Eren started laughing, too. "That's probably because I actually listened to you," he said. "My dad used to call you the Eren tamer."
"What?" said Mikasa, shaking her head. "No, he didn't."
"He did. He said I always behaved better for you. And he was right."
"I don't believe it," Mikasa scoffed.
"It's true!" said Eren. 
"Really?" said Mikasa
Eren nodded, his face stretched into an exaggerated, self-effacing grimace. "'Fraid so."
Mikasa stared at him. "Why?"
"I don't know," Eren chuckled, sipping his seltzer. "I guess I just wanted to make you happy."
11 notes · View notes
abbatoirablaze · 7 months
Text
Ex Wive's Club, Chapter 26
Word Count:  1.7k
Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse. 
Tumblr media
“She’s an unfit mother, your honor,” Andy growled as he glared at his soon to be ex-wife, “she has postpartum and hasn’t been taking any medication for it since the birth of our second child.  She had abandoned our first child for the first few years of his life and put our second child through dozens of needless and invasive tests!”
“Do you have proof of this, Mr. Barber?”
Andy frowned, unhappy that the judge wasn’t just taking his side, “Gary, you know-“
“Mr. Barber, I took the case because numerous other judges recused themselves on personal grounds.  A lot of us know you and your wife, but I’m going to remind you that this is an impartial case where accusations have to have foundations,” the judge reminded him, “you as well as anyone should know that wild accusations only hurt those involved.  So unless you have physical proof-“
“After she gave birth to our son, she moved to Massachusetts to go to MIT!”
“Your evidence is that your wife went to school?”
Andy’s frown deepened, “Gary-“
“Mr. Barber…I will not remind you again.”
He huffed before standing beside his desk, “your honor.  My wife and I were engaged when my son was born.  She returned the ring to me and left.  I then proceeded to see someone else.  Someone who I was engaged to after her, who was going to legally adopt my son as Sasha was in the process of giving up all parental rights for him.”
“And was this process ever completed?” the judge asked, “Was the paperwork ever filed with the courts?”
Andy’s jaw twitched, and he shook his head, “no your honor.”
“Then where is your proof that she abandoned your son?” he asked, “because to me, it’s a mother who wanted to further her education.  The two of you ended her relationship, but it just sounds like an undocumented agreement where you had sole custody of your son during that time.”
“She’s been diagnosed with postpartum.  She was on medication after our son was born.”
“As many women are.”
Andy was quickly losing his patience with the judge. 
He’d half expected the judge to make a personal decision and give Andy the sole custody of the kids.
And while his more logical side had known that wasn’t going to happen, it was a hope that he’d kept in the back of his mind, nonetheless.
“Mrs. Barber?”
Sasha stood nervously at her lawyer’s insistence, “Yes your honor?”
“Do you have any reason to think why your husband is making these accusations of you abandoning your children and putting them through needless medical procedures?”
“He believes I was cheating on him, your honor,” she admitted softly, “he kicked me out of our shared home, and-“
“He kicked you out?” he asked, brow raised as he looked at Andy.  Judge Gary Tellman had known Andy for most of his career.  So much so that Andy had considered him a friend before their court date began.  He knew that Sasha didn’t have a job, as Andy had insisted she be a stay at home mother.  And as the proceedings continued, Andy had begun to feel that maybe that was the issue.  Maybe the fact that his friend knew their marital life, and wasn’t instantly siding with him, it was an issue.
“Your honor, she was cheating on me.”
“I was attending a support group for parents coping with their feelings,” she argued, glaring at her husband, “you had someone follow me and-“
“AND HE KISSED YOU!”
“I PUSHED HIM AWAY!”
“IS THAT WHY HE’S HERE NOW?” Andy screamed at his wife, “is that why the man you’re fucking is sitting behind th-“
“ORDER!” the judge commanded, banging his gavel, “I will have order in my courtroom!”
Both Andy and Sasha quieted themselves and sat down while the judge tried to get the situation back on track.
“I want the two of you to listen and listen right now.  Whatever is going on is between you two.  I understand that divorces and custody hearings are difficult, but this is what happens.  You will not scream at each other in my court room.  Is that understood?”
“Yes your honor.”
“Yes.”
“Now…Mrs. Barber.  Is the man that your husband is referring to in this room?”
“He is, your honor?”
“And why is he here?”
“Because when Andy threw my stuff out, he was the one that picked me up,” she informed him, “Curtis was the one that let me stay with him.  I babysat his daughter in exchange for the roof over my head.”
“And you didn’t have anyone else you could stay with?”
“My father is going through some of his own issues at the current point in time with his own wife,” she admitted, “he had some other things to deal with.  And as he reminded me.  I am an adult, and I needed to forge my own path.”
“And these needless medical procedures you put your children through?”
“They weren’t needless,” she said with a shake of her head, “Ashley has a heart defect.  An arrhythmia.  I thought she stopped breathing one night, and I brought her to the doctors.  Clearly, they agreed with me, as they believed something serious could be wrong.  She was born with it.  Through the tests we found out that she can’t be treated like other children.  No contact sports.  No harsh physical activities…because that can cause the arrhythmia.  Which can cause her heart to stop.”
“So they were necessary.”
“Yes your honor!”
“Very well…”
“Your honor…I’d like to address Mr. Barber’s own parental history as part of the record,” Sasha’s lawyer began, standing up, “it is of my knowledge that Mr. Barber had an incident on father’s day with his children where authorities were involved.  I believe that we need to examine that.”
“What?” Sasha asked, her own eyes wide at what she’d heard, “Wh-what are you talking about?”
“You weren’t aware of the incident at your home with your husband and children, Mrs. Barber?”
“No….a-are they okay?”  she asked quickly, “What happened?  Andy?”
“It’s none of your business, Sasha!”
“They’re my children!”
“Mr. Barber, you had another pull custody from your wife last year,” the judge said firmly, “am I to believe that your wife had no knowledge of what happened on father’s day a few months ago?”
Andy’s jaw tightened, “she’s not part of it, your honor!”
He looked to Sasha and her lawyer, “Proceed with your evidence.”
“On father’s day, Mr. Barber had an altercation with his then 11 year old son and 6 year old daughter where they discussed Mrs. Barber’s living arrangements.  The children were upset after not having seen their mother for a matter of months.  After the six year old spilled her juice, Mr. Barber struck his son.  There are bruises from abuse that the doctors at the hospital can place as early as two months after she was removed from the home.  The eleven year old spun into the table and landed in the broken glass.  The six year old called the police and retrieved the gun from Mr. Barber’s gun safe, believing that her brother was going to be harmed.  When police showed up, Mr. Barber was arrested.  The children were taken to a hospital where they were examined.  The eleven year old suffered internal trauma and had bleeding which had to be repaired surgically.  The six year old would have suffered a heart attack had the pace maker not shocked her heart back into a sinus rhythm thanks to the previous mentions to necessary medical care provided by the mother in the past.”
Sasha’s throat went dry as she listened to what her lawyer had just said.
She hadn’t been aware of anything going on. 
She’d been so lost in her little life with Curtis that she tried to p ush the fact that she was without her children to the back of her mind.
“Andy?”
He only glared at his wife, “they’re exaggerating.  Little brats learned it from you!”
Her stomach sank as the tears rolled down her cheeks.
She had abandoned her babies. 
She’d left them with someone who she thought they would be safe with only for him to turn out to be a monster. 
“My-my children?” she asked, on the brink of sobbing, “wh-where are my children?”
“They’ve been under the care of a Jake and Maddison Jenson since the time of the incident,” her lawyer said firmly, reading from the file, “in that time, Mr. Barber hasn’t been allowed visitation as suggested from the original hearing.”
“Why wasn’t Mrs. Barber contacted?” the judge asked.
“It looked like Mr. Barber used his connections to ensure that the children would go to a family friend instead of foster care, and the case is sealed under Judge DiMattio!” her lawyer answered, “I had to fight with the courthouse to get these documents and statements alone, but Mr. Jensen has been extremely helpful in the case.  The Jensen family attempted to contact Mrs. Barber, but her phone had been turned off months prior by Mr. Barber.  She was unreachable.  The Jensens are outside the court room, sitting with a bailiff and the children.”
The judge shook his head, the disgust in his face obvious, “I think I’ve heard all that I needed to hear.  I’m going to make my decision.”
“Your honor-“
“I have decided in favor of Mrs. Barber,” the judge answered shortly, “Mr. Barber has provided no proof of wrong-doing when it comes to the parental rights of Mrs. Barber, and while he, himself has utilized the system to favor him, I believe that was a gross instance of misconduct, which I plan on bringing up and filing a complaint.  Mr. Barber.  I’m going to let you know right now, you are on thin ice, which is about to break.  You’re going to be brought into police custody for the misuse of power and what seems like a partial decision and treatment based on your friendship with certain people.”
“This is lud-“
“Ballif, take Mr. Barber away!” the judge ordered as he banged his gavel, “Mrs. Barber…your children are outside this room…they are now in your sole custody, with no visitation rights for Mr. Barber.  I’m sorry that justice has taken you this long to acquire!”
Chapter 27
Tag List:  @Cjand10, @huntress-artemiss, @lohnes16, @tenaciousperfectionunknown, @teambarnes72, @elbell20-blog, @sebsgirl71479, @prokey16
25 notes · View notes
wavesoutbeingtossed · 2 months
Text
Ugh all the Evermore/Midnights/Joever discourse this morning has been excellent and set my brain on fire and I love discussing all the themes and motifs etc. In her music!
The Evermore marriage stuff is really sitting with me today. I know the music is only a glimpse into a moment and isn’t an eyewitness account of facts but rather an exploration of feelings etc. But to be parasocial for a minute, it just really is fascinating how the topic of marriage/commitment is referenced almost giddily on Lover (I’d marry you with paper rings/the bridge of Lover/Wedding imagery in It’s Nice to Have A Friend).
Then on folklore, it’s like shit finally gets serious: one single thread of gold tied me to you (I have stated numerous times how much I’m obsessed with that line and implications), I want to give you my wild and a child, but is it enough if I could never give you peace? It’s like on Lover, the idea is exciting and new (ahem like when us plebes get engaged, not that I’m saying that’s what happened to them), then folklore a year later is when realizations set in when you’re starting to actually plan for that life. It’s no longer a hypothetical “one day” when that day is barreling towards you at a breakneck pace. She’s overjoyed by the idea of getting married on Lover, but understands on folklore that wedding =/= marriage/commitment, that there are very serious, very real implications in the act, and they’re also very scary. She wants to build a family with this person, but the implications of what that life will entail for them both are overwhelming. This is what I want, but is it fair of me to do so? (Obviously, the answer we believed at the time was, yes, because presumably her partner wanted it, too.)
Evermore like many of you pointed out paints marriage/commitment significantly darker, even under the guise of fictional characters. Marriage traps the protagonist in Ivy, it kills Este in No Body, No Crime, it scares the protagonist and breaks the heart of the subject in Champagne Problems, it crushes the spirit of the narrator of Tolerate It and Happiness, it’s elusive for the characters in Tis The Damn Season… It almost feels like she’s playing out the worst case scenarios of the fears from Peace through these songs. Am I going to get hurt? Am I going to hurt someone else? Are we falling into a trap of our own making? Are we bound to destroying each other like so many of those who came before us?
Obviously there’s no way to know how much of this was based on diaristic elements vs. what truly was inspired by the movies, shows and books she was consuming as she said at the time. However, to jump on the parasocial train for a minute, it then makes me wonder… If the question on Folklore was, is it enough if I could never give you peace? The characters in Evermore seem to indicate, no, it actually may not, and these are the different reasons why. Was it because she was scared from her own past experiences? (E.g. her previous relationships, her parents’ divorce, her best friend going through a divorce at that very moment, etc.) Or was her partner now giving her reason to doubt the commitment she so happily declared in Lover coming to pass?
Of course, with Renegade coming out the following year, it seems like there’s another piece of the puzzle in the commitment/marriage motifs: Are you really going to talk about timing in times like these? Is it your anxiety that’s stopping you from giving me everything, or do you just not want to? That’s a lot more damning. (In the sense of, painting the picture. Not damning in terms of judging people with struggles, just being clear!) She’s been working through her own fears and concerns through Folklore and Evermore and the conclusion she seems to have drawn is, yes, it’s still worth it, but now it seems perhaps her partner isn’t. The “or do you just not want to?” Always gave me pause, because it’s a moment of brutal honesty, wondering if her partner just isn’t ready, or doesn’t want to be, full stop. It’s clear that she’s ready for the next step (e.g. “is it insensitive of me to tell you to get your shit together so I can love you?”), but he appears to not be.
So it seems that at some point post-Lover but particularly post-Folklore, something has given her reason to feel anxious about marriage and what it entails. It could be her own experiences absolutely, but the lines in Renegade imply a little, er, direct input in the matter as well. She wasn’t the first renegade to need somebody (and get help), and now she’s holding her hand out to her partner to help him do the same so they can move forward on the plans they’ve been building since Lover. But the song leaves the resolution up in the air.
Then by the time we get to Midnights, the topic has a lot more shades of grey. There’s the obvious “All they keep asking me is if I’m going to be your bride/The only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife,” in Lavender Haze, and to this day I still don’t think she’s rejecting the concept of marriage with that, but what she is saying is that it’s a sore point because she’s sick of being reduced to her marital status in the media. At the time, I assumed the frustration over the marital status was because (rightly) it’s infruriating for women to always be reduced to who they are married to and the children they produce, especially one as singularly successful on her own as Taylor is. Now, we can also assume with the benefit of hindsight (and Tree’s takedown of DeuxMoi) that it was also a very sore subject for her on a personal level, perhaps because it was looking more likely that she wasn’t going to be anyone’s bride anytime soon. Then You’re Losing Me later spells it out, that marriage was on the table, but seems like it was almost weaponized. I still think her spitting out “I wouldn’t marry me either,” isn’t coming from a place of self-loathing or insecurity, but an argument used against her about their future plans. It’s scathing and devastating in how it targets one of her deepest hurts, calling back right to how the album opened.
If I had to guess based on the albums, the trajectory of the topic goes I can’t wait to marry you -> The closer we get to it the more scared I am that I may destroy this -> Is this going to destroy us? -> Actually you may be the one destroying us.
(It does seem like there’s an obvious shift between folklore and evermore, and not to get too dark, but like many of you I wonder if the success of Folklore precipitated the fears and anxieties and hurt she sings about on Evermore, iykwim. Which becomes abundantly clear by Midnights.)
I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I’m just feeling soooooo tingly about how these themes are going to be explored on TTPD, because I almost can’t see how they won’t be given what a big part of her life it was for years. I know she doesn’t owe us anything but… Taylor, we just want to talk.
12 notes · View notes
nelapanela94 · 1 year
Note
hi!! hope youre having a lovely dayy!!!
here a small request for angst/hurt its a little too specific and i have a tendency to digress so feel free to change it accordingly!!
levi and reader (a fellow soldier and daughter of some noble) in arrange marriage (in canon verse). after levi is known to be an ackerman, higherups wants to retain the bloodline, thus the marriage. But its been 4 years and no baby. and one day out of the blue the reader mentions they should get a divorce since the two do not have anything to hold onto as neither of them ever really tried for each other.
the ending is upto youuu!!
Tumblr media
Hi anon!
TW: angst, arranged marriage, poetic like smut WC: ~1.5k
You sense as you enter the mess hall that morning that something odd teeters on the precipice. And no, it has nothing to do with the new faces that have been filling the troops of the Survey Corps readying to fight in the following and most important expedition. The air is dense with whispers and sneers, and as you cross the hall to the table on the furthest corner, you feel their gazes riveted to your back.
“What’s going on?” You ask Hange as you lower your breakfast tray on the rough-finished wood— the apple wobbles in its compartment— and slip next to the scientist.
“I didn’t know you and Levi were… a thing.” Their cheeks clumped at the ends of their grin. But instead of blushing, your frown and snatch the paper from Hange’s hands.
At the corner of the A section, five lines announce your engagement. Your engagement with captain Levi.
The sides crisp in your grip, and you breathe hard, in steadied and controlled puffs, to cap the flame of fury.
How did they dare?
“Levi and I are nothing Hange, nothing but peers.”
“But—”
The knot of hunger unravels, replaced by the urge to put an end to this missunderstanding. But when you turn around, Levi’s stoic face greets you, his arms folded over his chest. Finding out about his engagement through those printed letters must’ve flicked his endurance, must’ve cracked something within him, but his eyes are unbendable.
“You knew about this, didn’t you? Everyone but me.” You ram a finger in your chest. Ribbons of rage lash in your head building up a migraine. You take a step closer until your shoulders brush. The walls of your airways cinching and soldering. “I don’t cook, I don’t clean, I’m not fond of kids.”
But he declares himself innocent, and mutters under his breath, “go ask them.”
 
“I won’t marry Levi!” You slam your palms on the table, making the silverware clank. Your untouched flan jiggles as your mother dabs her lips with the serviette, unstirred. She folds it on the table and her eyes find yours. “It’s all settled, and it’s an order from the Government.”
Your brows furrow demanding more.
“They want to retain the Ackerman’s bloodline.” Your father’s wrists perch at the edge of the table.
“So they want to breed me like a bitch?”
“You always have to overreact.” Your mother rolls her eyes.
your kindling gaze bounces between your mother and your father like a ping pong ball. “Why me then? I’m a soldier! The Survey Corps is my life!”
But the new sparkly necklace gilding your mother’s neck is enough for an answer. Your parents’ profligacy has consumed the last of your resources, scraping the dregs in the bottom of the pit. You were left with nothing and to keep the status they were willing to anything.
Tears stream down your face. “You sold me.”
“Sweetheart, you make it sound like… human trafficking.” Your father says with his usual passiveness. “this is nothing like that.”
It is only a crime when money is transacted in the warped rings of the Underground. “Tell me the difference then.” You dare.
“Stop it, Y/N.” Your mother snaps. “We have all made our sacrifices. It’s time for you to start acting like the lady you are. Family comes first.”
You snort, lowering your head and shoving your fingers through your hair.
“That’s a pretty necklace. Mom.” You tilt your head and pull out a tight-lip smile, push the chair under the table and stomp away.
 
It is a pompous ceremony ornated with three bulbous chandeliers and glitzy dresses. Neither you or Levi smile, though in the portraits the happiness that glows inside you flares in your eyes.
With the melted cheese, you draw tendrils with the tip of the knife. The gown is too tight you feel it will tear you un halves.
Levi reaches to your ear and says, “you look beautiful.” But you fling away from him as if his presence was mold. He sighs, “I didn’t want this either. I’m sorry.”
You just want this nightmare to end, but Levi offers his hand for the first dance, and you’re compelled under the hundres pairs of eyes. The first string of the violin slips and the rest of the band joins in. “I don’t hate you, Levi. I have nothing against you.” You whisper as you follow his lead. You feel like a puppet against his chest, and the world tightens to what your arms encompass. Tears dust your eyelashes threatening to make your make up bleed. “It’s just… this is not how I dreamt my wedding.”
“This is not how I planned it either.” He breathes, resting his forehead on yours, and you kiss him, keeping up the curtains of the stage.
The multitude claps and cheers, and you pull away, enthralled in the pearl white specks that dance in the depths of his magnified pupils. “Take me out of here.” You whisper against his lips. “Please.”
“I thought you’d never say it.” He smiles.
You scuff off your torturing shoes and sit at the edge of your bed. The mattress sags by your side, but you don’t dare look at him. You turn, folding one leg on the bed and he starts unpinning your hair. White flowers scattered on the mahogany floor, dusting it like a starry night.
You tremble under his touch as the laces slip through the grommets of your gown. “What’s wrong?” He mutters as he bumps his nose on your naked shoulder, and peppers you in open mouth kisses that feel right and wrong at the same time.
A sob cleaves your voice. “This shouldn’t feel like a duty, Levi. I’m sorry.”
“I won’t do anything you don’t want to.” He draws a question mark around the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t hurt you.”
“But— they’ll check for the blood stains in the morning.”
“I’ll take care of that.” His forehead melds to the curve of your shoulder. “Look at me.” He peels from you and your shift your weight, your broken gaze crashing with his.
“This is not fair. Nothing changes for you, but for me… you don’t know what the Survey Corps mean to me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” A sigh wrings out from your lungs.
Lazy eights linger on your arm. His face glows under the moonlight as if he was sculpted in marble. Tiny vains creep under his pallor, and the night has dulled the freckles on his nose. You look over his shoulders, rubbing your fingers under your jaw.
“What are you thinking?” He shimmies off his vest and unclasps the scratchy bow from around his neck.
“You didn’t know you were an Ackerman, did you?”
“No. That’s how mom protected me.” He shrugs.
“Do you remember her?”
He gazes down and shakes his head. “Sometimes I see her in my reflection.” He lifts his eyes, and there’s a wistful smile gracing his face. “But I can’t remember her voice.”
“I’m sorry,” you mutter and take him in your arms. He feels safe, at home, and at the same time he hurts because this is not the way this was suppose to be. Or feel. Like a sting spreading the venom in his chest. The feelings that swaddle his heart can’t be converted into words.
“I’ll take you to the sea, Y/N. I promise you.”
Your face is sheen with tears. Levi has listened to you and your childish dreams.
You undress him and he undresses you. Your fingers tremble as each button unbinds. Levi is a good man, but you’re not ready; he can see it in your eyes. He shakes his head and clasps your hands, bringing them down.
“I’m tired,” he says.  
Once in your night gown, you splayed on bed, stretching out your arms and legs, and sigh, “I forgot how comfy these beds are.”
Levi smiles as he cuddles up in the unconquered end of the king sized bed and watches you falling asleep. Your hair fanning out, your shoulders rising and falling at a steady beat. Then he fetches his knife, the one he always carries with him, and his teeth sink into his lips as the blade severs his palm.
Days bleed to months and you learn each other. You get used to each other’s company, though neither of you can label those burgeoning feelings. But the flesh was craving, desire stirring with the closeness; your knees brushed his hipbones, his lips marked your breasts as your bodies melt spreading the craze like fine rugs. His nimble hands at the bow shooting arrows of delight through every inch of you.
Despite the efforts it didn’t work. As if your blood were never meant to mingle and for years you pondered. One can’t force things that are not meant, you tried to convince yourself, and hardening your heart, you drop the word divorce once during dinner, curdling the meal. “If that’s what you want,” he says, his hand tightened around the fork as if not to cry.
“What’s the point of this?” You can’t take your eyes of your plate.
If only he could say I love you. Perhaps those words would keep the stitches together. He can feel fear overpowering him, but this is the only chance to keep the best thing that ever happen to him.
What was the point to fight titans if not to take you to the ocean?
Levi has fallen in love, unconsciously he wove an unbreakable bond, unaware that it was engraved in his blood.
“Don’t go.”
You look at him and see the truth in his glistening eyes.
“Please,” he says, stepping at the edge of the abyss. “Forget about your parents, forget about the higher-ups.”
You reach out for his hand, tenderness creeping across your eyes, and you say with a smile. “We were always the best team, weren’t we?”
Tumblr media
Taglist: @stygianoir @lamees004 @svftackerman @apolloshaiku @luvjiro @roralore   @notgoodforlife @galactict3a
Want to join the tag list? Click here.
115 notes · View notes
folkloriansolitairian · 9 months
Text
so here’s the thing about the red white and royal blue movie
PSA BEFORE WE BEGIN!!! I AM NOT HATING! i did like the movie, this is not me hating on it or casey mcquinston, any of the actors, producers, writers, etc. i personally think that casey is an insanely talented writer, and the actors did a phenomenal job bringing this story to life. i am simply sharing my opinion and what i would change about it! also i like to complain it is my natural instinct. now that that’s out of the way here we go
honestly i think they could have done better and we could have gotten a lot more. sososo much was left out from the books and i was honestly just disappointed by how much they changed or straight up removed entirely. we were ROBBED of the following:
• JUNE I MISS HERRR WHERE IS SHE WAAAAH
• alex’s parents being divorced and how that effected him as a person and helped him grow into the person he is
• alex’s self discovery in his sexuality
• liam and rafael luna and how they both also helped alex in discovering his bisexuality (who the fuck is miguel) (did not like that he was already bi, his path of self discovery throughout the book is really relatable and good rep imo but idk)
• the iconic cornettos scene (i know they filmed it it was is the fucking trailers WHERE DID IT GO)
• bea’s 🍃 scandal/‘powder princess’ and how much that contributes to her development and depth as a character
• BEAS FATTY FUCKING CAT WHAT IS HIS NAME I MISS HIM
• the physical presence of the emails and how vulnerable alex and henry are with each other in them and how much they reveal about not just the 2 of them but other characters too like bea and the rest of henry’s family (they just has voiceovers which i thought was kind of weird, maybe just me)
• henry talking to the cancer patient about at at wars and that whole adorable thing
• seeing alex storming the palace to talk to henry (he just appeared?? smh anyways)
• most of alexs persepective of the emails getting leaked
• the ENTIRE fake dating arc with alex/nora and henry/june (i think? read the book a while ago don’t fully remember)
• alex’s whole dilemma and eventual decision to go to NYU law
• ZAHRA AND SHAANS ENTIRE RELATIONSHIP BASICALLY!! (why weren’t they engaged)
• the historical love letters henry and alex quoted in their emails to each other
• most of the plot with the richards campaign (mostly to do with the fact that there is NO LUNA)
• overall a lot of the buildup/enemies to lovers aspect of alex and henry’s relationship
there’s probably so much more that i’m forgetting but THE POINT IS there were so many important little details from the book that was left out in the movie that i would have loved to see and it’s honestly just disappointing that we didn’t get those. it felt like they basically got rid of everything that didn’t have to do with alex and henry’s relationship which just made the movie feel very one dimensional and bland to me. the whole film just felt overall really lacking of what made me love the book so much in the first place.
now i am going to be a tad bit hateful when i say the pacing of this film is HORRENDOUS. it was so fast paced and really just did not flow at all like the he book did. a great example of this i think would be the bar scene. when i read that in the book, it felt like a really long and detailed scene, but in the movie it’s a short maybe 60 second long montage which honestly just does not do such an eventful moment from the book justice.
to be entirely honest i feel like the book would have done a lot more justice if it had gotten a tv show adaptation instead of a film. unfortunately movies have a time limit, and amazon made them cut the originally 3+ hour film down to 2 hours or less. with tv shows on the other hand, they can make multiple shorter episodes, resulting in a longer total running time, therefore giving much more time for the smaller details (listed above) that aren’t detrimental enough to the plot to keep in a limited 2 hour long maximum film, but important enough to be kept in a, for example, 8 episode long tv series, 30-45 mins per episode. it doesn’t make sense to me why it wasn’t a tv show in the first place, since it is produced by prime video, whose most popular thing rn is the summer i turned pretty, which is LITERALLY A BOOK TO TV SHOW ADAPTATION!!!!!
to put it simply, it is impossible to fit 10 hours worth of words into a 2 hour long movie, so i understand why they had to remove so many details, but as a diehard book fan it is still disappointing to not see little things like that portrayed on the big screen.
i think that the moral of the story is that books should never be made into movies and instead always be made into tv shows and we deserve the 3 hour uncut version and amazon hates gay people
thank you for coming to my ted talk
22 notes · View notes
enhaheeseung · 6 months
Note
Wow. I sent that long ask about the love story my parents had before I read part 5. I definitely take it all back… My dad, for all his flaws (even then) would never cheat on my mom. He loved/loves her. He was just lost at the time… What Hee did was something else entirely. And he was feeling good about it? Yeah I take it all back for sure. Hee has no integrity at all and apparently a cheap one night stand is literally all it takes to make him happy his wife left?
Yeah no. That’s not love. That’s pathetic. Wishing YN a happy life with someone who actually values her as a person and is connected to her in a deeper way—deeper than one nameless bar hook-up can erase. The only thing deep about this is how deeply I regret the comparison to my parents.
Hee is the culmination of every terrible fear that women have about their partners. The bar was literally in hell and he swam under it with a smile on his face.
The story is excellent and very well written. Truly. But I don’t even know if I can keep reading. (Which is honestly a compliment because you are such a good writer and character crafter that my emotions are truly engaged) I just don’t know if I can stomach him anymore. He’s… just gross now. And I guess that was the point all along. (Maybe?) His wife fell in love with a lie and his true colors are on display now? I’m sure you (as the author) could somehow redeem him still (if you wanted to) but I have no clue how you would begin to do it. Talking to her about his dreams of their life together and a family and then he bangs a barfly before the divorce is even official? And is happy about it?! …
If I was his wife this would turn my stomach and shatter what was left of my heart (and my self-esteem honestly). I don’t even think I could even bear to look at him…and then knowing that he was happy about it? Happy about me leaving? I mean at that point I guess he wouldn’t want me back but even if he did…
Hell would freeze first.
Agreed everything about this I wholeheartedly agree with like I know he was drunk and he thinks its over between him and mc and I could even kinda get past the cheating but the fact he’s satisfied with it that makes me complete disgusted
And the nerve of him to go to her doorstep crying to just days later cheating and being glad his marriage is over is just totally fucked
But what can I say he’s just a dirty little man who only cares about himself and his feelings and obviously he’s willing to do and say whatever just to make himself feel good
He doesn’t deserve a second chance or any chance he really doesn’t even deserve the one night stand tbh
But even though the story is triggering I really hope you’ll stay for the end again thank you so much for sharing your story and you didn’t over share it’s completely okay!♥️
Hope to see you in the next chap!!!
9 notes · View notes
Text
The Dream - Chapter Six.
Happy Monday, besties! So, I thought I would treat you all to another double update today, just to try and get this story moving along a little better. The last one was really well received, too, so we’ll do as last time and split the 40 notes unlock over both chapters. Enjoy!
Tumblr media
Previous chapters - Prologue  One  Two  Three  Four  Five
Tag list - In the comments, please DM to be added/removed (note: those not engaging will be automatically removed from the tag list, FYI)
Words - 2,614 
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!
“So, did you tell him about all this then, your stepdad?” Angel asked, when Keri had spoken briefly of her family dynamic, revealing that she was actually much closer with David than she was her mom, on account of his laid-back nature. Meryl Watkins was nothing short of a little tightly wound at times.  
“No not yet, but I probably will. David's cool, much more open minded than my mom so if it's anyone I tell, it'll be him. Only a few of my friends know so far. Frankie and her girlfriend Jaime as you know, and my other girl, Rachel. I didn't tell the boys yet, I have no idea how they'd react to it!” Just the thought set off a soft alarm in her head, the teasing she was likely to receive, especially from Aaron.  
Angel could definitely identify with her. “Yeah, I know that feeling. There's only two people who I’ve told, EZ and his wife, Sharise.” Jamming his cell under his ear, he poured himself a drink, tequila and a splash of soda. “So are your mom and dad divorced or something?”
“No, my dad died when I was nine, sadly. He was sick for about a year before he went, he had colon cancer and there was nothing they could do. He was so miserable towards the end that I think his death was a blessing to him. It's really hard to lose a parent, you have to grow up so fast,” she revealed, with Angel nodding heavily in agreement.
“I understand that. My mom died when I was twenty-seven, she was killed in a robbery gone wrong. It was fucking rough, losing her like that, but at least I was an adult when it happened. I can’t imagine how shit that must’ve been for you, to only be nine years old when you lost your dad.” She could barely believe it had been thirteen years, sometimes.  
“Oh my god, Angel,” she gasped after hearing of his own parental loss. “That’s tragic, I’m so sorry.”
“Could have been much worse, I could have been a little kid still, like you were,” he reasoned. “But thanks, though.”
“Even though I was just a little kid, my mom never shielded me from any of it. I knew he had cancer, she explained to me gently in a way I could understand what it was doing to his body and all the treatments he had to go through. The chemo, the radiotherapy, the eventual removal of half his colon and bowels. She always said it was pointless hiding from me and trying to make it look less bad than it was, that she wouldn’t insult my intelligence by doing so.
“She's always been a great believer that children understand much more than we give them credit for, and she was right. I guess that if there was an upside to his death, it was that gave me a lot of strength, losing him when I did. I learned how to process grief very early, deal with all those emotions, too. Mom really helped me through that, as well. She was my rock in the aftermath.
“I remember the night before he died, he was so sick and so weak, but he hauled me up onto the bed and sat and talked to me for hours. He told me that because I was just like him, I'd go far in life, and no matter that he wouldn't physically be there to see it, he'd always be by my side.” Her explanation faltered a little, her voice quivering as she remembered her beloved father. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to start blubbering there. Here's me going on about how strong it made me, right before I start crying.”
Angel was quick to reassure her. “Even the strongest people in the world cry sometimes. It makes you human. Are you okay?”
She took a breath, getting out of bed and going to her drawer to pull out her cigarettes, needing a little calming hit of nicotine. “Yeah, I just get upset sometimes when I talk about him. He was amazing and I miss him so much,” she sniffed, the tears still gushing from her eyes as she flung the window open, lighting up, watching the snow beginning to tumble down. Again.  
“It's totally understandable, you know. I feel sad when I think about my mom and how much I miss her, nothing can fill the void you feel when you lose one of the people that brought you into this world in the first place,” he empathised. “Damn, I wish we were asleep right now.”
Flicking her ash, she took another drag on her cigarette. “Why?”
“So that I could hug you, you sound like you need one.” Oh, how cute?  
'I do, and I need some sleep too, now you come to mention it. I have to be up and out of the house again in five hours to catch the sunrise and take photographs for a little commission I have. Someone I work with at the chocolate shop wants a nice picture as a going away present for their friend, who is leaving for Nebraska at the end of next week.”
“Sounds like we could both do with resting our heads, then. Hopefully, I’ll see you soon?”  
She smiled, feeling a little buzz of excitement. “Yeah, here’s hoping.” She took another drag on her cigarette before flicking it out of the window, going to wash the smell from her hands and brushing her teeth too, returning to her room and spritzing the air with her pillow mist before climbing into bed. “I want to dream of him, I want to see him.” She repeated in her mind, until eventually, she drifted off.
“Yo, dumbass. I’m right here.” he called to her as she looked around the busy city, people bustling along the sidewalk and cars racing by quickly. She turned to see him sat on a low wall, smiling that beautiful smile at her.
“You don't know me well enough to call me dumbass yet.” Her scold was playful, her smile sweet, happy to see him there. As she approached, all the cars and people suddenly vanished, and it was just them. Like an A-bomb had gone off, and they were the only two survivors.
“I know you well enough to do this when you're upset, though.” Jumping down, he folded his arms around her, making her feel instantly safe and warm.  
“In that case, I think I'll let the dumbass comment slide.” Kissing his chest, she felt the hard muscle press against her cheek, drinking in the moment there with him. She could feel the lines between reality and dreams starting to blur with every dream that passed. It was scary, it was strange, but most of all it was exciting.
It thrilled her to see where their dreams would take them next, and still wonder the one resounding question; why? Why did they act like lovers in dreams for one thing? It was something Keri was too afraid to ask, yet she thought about it constantly. Were her dreams trying to point her in his direction? Could he possibly be the one she belonged with, and this was her way of finding him?
Was the answer she searched for truly that simple?  
“Whatcha thinking about, tiny?” he asked, unfolding his arms from around her and holding her hand as they began to walk up the deserted street. Tiny she was, compared to him. He was almost a foot taller than she.  
“Why I'm here, with you, night after night. What's the meaning behind it all?” she mused, looking up at him as they walked.
“I've been asking myself the same thing,” he revealed, squeezing her hand softly. “My brother had an interesting theory. He thinks that at some point, our paths are gonna cross in reality, and all of this is just a way of letting us see it's gonna happen.”
“Well, they kind of have, haven’t they? We’ve been messaging, and speak on the phone now, don't we? That’s us crossing paths, in a roundabout sort of way,” she commented.
He gave her a soft shove in the shoulder as they rounded the corner, walking onto the next empty street. “I think he meant something a little more significant, like us actually meeting one another.”
“Is that something you’d like, then? For us to actually meet?” She felt a little sick with nerves, waiting on his response, because she knew, she knew for herself that she very much wanted to meet him. Suddenly, though, she felt something begin to pull at her, grasping his arm tightly. “I want to stay asleep. I want to stay here.” She whispered, feeling Angel wrap his arm around her.  
“Maybe this'll help keep you here.” Leaning to her, he kissed her softly, Keri wrapping her arms around his neck. It did keep her there, but not for long, the dream beginning to spiral completely out of her control. When she opened her eyes again, she was surrounded by nothing but pitch-black darkness, straining her eyes as she spun around, trying to gather her bearings. Suddenly, a light came on, Keri turning to see Angel smiling at her.  
“Look at you, being my light in the dark,” she commented, smiling as he reached for her hands.  
He pulled her close, resting his forehead to hers. “Something tells me you’re gonna be my light in the dark, you know.” He kissed her head, smiling down at her. “And yeah, I do wanna meet you in real life. Might have to see what Utah is like at this time of year.” Her heart almost beat clean out of her chest, the happiness of the moment waking her, Keri blinking a few times into the darkness of her room.  
‘It would be fantastic, to actually meet you x’  
With that message sent, she closed her eyes and drifted off back into slumber. Not enough slumber for her liking either, up and awake four hours later, watching the sun come up with her bestie.
“Here, I made it extra strong.” Passing her the second cup from her Thermos, Frankie then handed over the foil wrapped breakfast she’d prepared too, halving an omelette and putting them between a bread roll each, Keri’s favourite of her creations.  
“Thanks, homeslice. I need it!” she replied, as they sat down on a fallen log to take a break. It had just turned 5.30am, and both still felt half asleep after their 4am start. Frankie had agreed to come out with her to add to her portfolio, not having enough nice sunrise pictures in there for her liking, since she was the very antithesis of a morning person. “Guess who called me last night?”
“Hmmmm.” She made a show of looking thoughtful, but of course, it wasn’t that hard to guess. “Big Latino dude with lots of tattoos and a huge motorcycle, per chance?” At seeing Keri's smile widen, she put her arm around her, thinking it very cute, how into him she seemed, now she’d settled into the idea a little more of what was happening between them in her sleep. It was nice, not to bear witness to her being so freaked out by it that she was crying and throwing up.  
“We talked for about two hours, and we found we have quite a bit in common. It was good, settling, made it all feel a little more normal when in truth, these mutual dreams we met through are anything but.”  
Frankie smiled widely through her mouthful of sandwich, chewing quickly so she could reply. “That’s cute!”
“Yeah, yeah he seems really nice. After the phone call, we mutual dreamed again, and he told me that he wants to actually meet me, he mentioned coming up here. So, I guess I have a new friend there, or whatever.”
“Or whatever,” she snorted in disbelief, rolling her eyes. “He’s into you.”  
Keri scoffed a little. “Doubtful! I mean god, look at the guy. He has a hoard of women all over his Insta, they’re always leaving him comments about how gorgeous he is, and he flirts back with them. Nah. What would a thirty-six-year-old with plenty of female attention want with a twenty-two-year-old student who lives over seven hundred miles away.”
Frankie stared at her with incredulity. “Oh, you sweet, summer child, Keri.”
“What?” she laughed softly. “I mean, he’s flirty with me, and I am with him too, but really? Me? When he has an abundance of women around him already?”  
“You never see yourself for how desirable you are, do you? Both in looks and personality.” She gave her an up and down look, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. “If you weren’t like a sister to me, I’d hit it.”
She all but choked on her coffee. “Dude!”  
“Face it, beets. Angel not only desires you, but he wants to meet you because he likes you. Why would he be prepared to travel over seven hundred miles when, as you state, he has a hoard of women he could get his dick sucked by right on his doorstep, if there wasn’t something else special about you, hmm?”  
Keri shrugged softly. “I guess there’s validity in that, but...”
“But you always downplay yourself because you get all nervous with guys.” Again, valid.  
“I do, I know!” she wailed softly. “And he’s like, an actual, proper man! It’s scary!”
“Oh, don’t talk crap!” Frankie snorted. “I mean, I don’t speak from personal experience, but men aren’t that complicated, are they? If you have good game with the cock then it should be fine, and from what you’ve told me about that sex dream you had, it sounds like you have that already. Mans wants himself the real thing. Harness it, baby girl. Reel him in!”  
“I still feel nervy,” she spoke, Frankie knowing that of course, she would. Keri was quite shy around guys, and she always had been. It took her a while to settle into things whenever she met a new one.
“Well, you could get over the nerves. I mean, these dreams you have with him, think of them like a practice run to what I suspect will follow after you have actually met up?”
“I still feel embarrassed then, when we’ve been like that in sleep!” The look on her bestie’s face had her giggling, draining her coffee as she stood up, starting to tinker with her camera. “However, I guess I do hear what you’re saying there. He told me that it’s only a dream, so just go with it, but he’d back off if it made me feel uncomfortable.”
Frankie poured herself another coffee, smiling with surprise. “Even when asleep, he’s got respect for you in a moment that isn’t even happening outside of your combined imaginations. I like this dude. I guess if it does go well, he has a hell of a reward for his nocturnal patience, though. I mean, you are somewhat of a sex fiend when you get comfortable with a guy.”  
Her grin said it all, Keri having her in fits, especially with the rapid, suggestive double raise of her eyebrows. “I do like the D, this is true.”  
“From the gay standpoint, ewww, but you have at it, girly,” Frankie laughed. As they went about their early morning photographic endeavours, Keri began to think on her friend’s words, about liking the sound of Angel, acknowledging how much she did as well. As their dream lives began to all move very much in one direction, she found that liking doing nothing but escalate, too.
38 notes · View notes
vestaclinicpod · 8 months
Text
Audio Drama Sunday - 17th September ✨
Happy #AudioDramaSunday! Here are the wonderful shows I’ve listened to this week. You should listen to them as well!! 
SPOILERS!
🌲@hellofromthehallowoods (133) Honestly not even joking when I say that I’m more upset having to listen to Polly and Yaretzi divorce than I was my own parents’ divorce. The too-little-too-late realisation being thwarted by Lucy’s arrival is GUT-WRENCHING. PLEASE, just let them be okay. Oh, and it was so good to hear from Moth again, I’m so glad that moth is going to try to escape, even if it is so bittersweet that people are getting left behind. 
🦀 @thesiltverses (32) I have to take a moment to say how much I bloody ADORE the use of music in season three so far. The sound design is already *chef’s kiss*, but the addition of the music and the panning is somehow playful and sophisticated and just generally masterful. That ending!! Hooo boy, this is SO fun in a stressful, kind of perverse way. I just love this show so much!!  I really hope Carpenter gets a chance to share with Paige (who it was a delight to hear again!) about what happened with the Trawlerman saving her. These gods do be picking favourites, though it seems like Paige’s is less than impressed with everyone… 
📻 @monstrousagonies no-one does bloopers like Hero!! They clearly have SO MUCH FUN recording and you can feel the joy diffusing into each episode. It’s so delightful! 🥺
🤴Had the pleasure of starting season 2 of InCo (@itmeblog) this week! There is so much delicious backstory to uncover about why Nova is the way she is and why it’s everyone else’s problem. I love that the eps are so short because I think it actually creates the opportunity for more world-building not less as there’s a focus on the present and not the story’s overall arc. I really like it!!
🧛‍♂️ @re-dracula oh my god. The re-dracula cast are so incredible. I keep saying it, but they are bringing this book to LIFE. It’s so much more intense, emotional and engaging like this. We all know that Beth Eyre is is incredible but GOD Beth Eyre is INCREDIBLE. 
🧬 Regina Prime (8) This episode had me gasping out loud! HOW MANY?! Omega and Epsilon have such an entertaining dynamic and I love the exploration of the wider ethical concerns of what Regina has done.
🥾@doyoucopypod (9) The dead zone moves?! I did wonder what could be so urgent that Alex would interrupt Reese’s explanation of their experience in the dead zone. Eeeeek, I hope Alex gets out of there in time!! 
🐬 @patterspod P Files #3. Seems like Ryan is wearing ill-fitting footwear in his mind palace. You need to put those crocs in sports mode to get anything out of there, dude. 
⛪️ I finally started listening to KILL FM and loved the first few stories! That one with the cat food though . . .  MAN. It was so disturbing, and I was listening so close to bed that I had to pause haha. Maybe I’ll take a morning walk to listen to the rest this week! 
Wishing everyone a great rest of their weekend and a fantastic week ahead!! 🥰
14 notes · View notes
ladybirdplace · 9 months
Text
Marriage part 1
The 26th of March was my first wedding anniversary. When I married myself last year, I chose to keep it to myself, I suppose out of shyness.
I know my followers will be very accepting of it. Others, maybe not. Self marriage is still a foreign concept almost everywhere. And in the places where it is a thing, it’s not necessarily an autoromantic practice.
But I feel comfortable sharing it now.
It was a post on tumblr mentioning self marriage that pushed me to take the plunge. I had already been wearing a ring on my thumb symbolizing my love before March of last year, and so I didn’t need to purchase an engagement ring.
It wasn’t really a big decision for me. The life I have lived thus far is abundant proof enough of my own dedication, and a ring and the title of spouse would not define it.
I wanted to have my ceremony when no one was around, so in the morning, before the sun rose, I ate an apple, which is a symbol of love and marriage. I put on some white clothes. I snuck out the backdoor to my swingset.
I sat down on my swing. It was a little frosty and cold out. I took my ring off my thumb. Initially I wanted to put it back on right away and be married. I was very excited to be my spouse, but I waited. I contemplated for a few minutes what this marriage would mean to me.
I said what I wanted to say aloud. And I put the ring back on. And I went back inside as a newlywed, and warmed back up.
And it was beautiful. It was everything I had wanted. It was special, and mine, and blessedly alone.
I ate some strawberry shortcake for a wedding cake.
I didn’t tell anyone except for my therapist, and I was very proud to hear her congratulate me.
I think it is important that I explain my views about marriage.
I’m aware that the way I think about marriage is not very conventional. And if the readers of this post think law sanctioned marriage is the only valid kind, I’m not going to try to convince you, because you’re entitled to your opinion.
But I will talk about the way I see it.
Marriage has long been a primary form of slavery and ownership of women. It’s only recently that that sort of marriage is falling out of style in certain places. Marriage being a symbol of love is also fairly recent.
When my parents were divorced, I grew to see marriage very differently. As a child, I had thought my parents being opposites meant that they were meant for each other. And if my parents, who in all respects I had seen as representative of the perfect marriage even though they seemed more like roommates with kids than spouses, could be better off divorced, I rethought what marriage was about.
In looking again at marriage, I thought it to be quite a bit harder than I had before thought. Loving each other and getting along well and raising kids well apparently was not all marriage was. It was something more than that.
I feel that . . . In some respects, marriage as it is, being a life partner with someone is a kind of skill, one that needs to be tuned to your partner's needs and your own, and what you want out of the relationship.
That is, unless you’re married simply out of stubbornness and there’s no real collaboration, you just happen to be married.
And I don’t think I need to say that marriage is not always a fit for people, whether that means marriage does not befit an individual or the two people together. And I say two because I’m talking about conventional two-person marriage, polygamy and self marriage both follow different rules, I feel.
But I suppose there is some flexion of conventional rules in any marriage. I digress.
Uh, I guess what I’m saying now is not really important to the point. What I mean is, marriage isn’t strictly about love but also, perhaps even moreso, about compromise. Or about an obstinate (or in the case of queer people trying to hide their orientation, protective) vow to keep up appearances.
And I will mention that comparing married couples with longtime unmarried couples, often times it isn’t marriage that truly epitomizes their dedication to one another.
The concept of marriage, the way I think most Americans see it, is that marriage is a binding of two people because they love each other so much, they agree to now be bound together in union. That in and of itself is a lovely idea.
But it’s also true that marriage if for the sake of love is unnecessary. Putting aside any legal benefits it may offer, marriage for love is not needed.
And I feel that only when marriage really is not heavily encouraged by amatonormativity, when a legally married couple is the same to the government as an unmarried couple, when it is not for anything but for love, only then does that purposelessness take on a profound meaning.
To be married simply because you want to be symbolically bound to them in a new way, even though you really could go without and be just the same, is very heartwarming to me.
13 notes · View notes
Text
Hello, Sunshine, 1982
It has been a rough couple of years.
Abe passed in 1980, and Shirley got sick and passed away quickly later the same year. In 1981, Noah died under what Midge thinks are strange circumstances, but his employers and Astrid insist it was a simple car accident.
Either way, losing three beloved family members in just a couple of years is a lot to deal with.
When Ethan gets to his feet during Yom Kippur Break Fast and announces he’s asked Julia to marry him, and she’s said yes, Midge feels warmth spread in her chest and she finds herself squeezing Lenny’s hand under the table.
“My baby is getting married,” she beams before getting to her feet and hugging her son tightly. She turns to Julia and hugs her too. “I knew when I saw you with no pants on that first time you’d fit right in.”
Ethan chuckles. “Ma.”
“That’s so weird,” Julia tells her tearfully. “But so sweet. Thank you, Midge.”
Midge takes a breath as she pulls away and squeezes the younger woman’s shoulders. “We need to plan an engagement party!” She whirls around to look at Mei. “You in?”
“Hell, yes,” Mei grins. “I’ll set up the location. There are some really nice restaurants in Chinatown.”
“Aren’t you two getting ahead of yourselves?” Joel asks.
“To Ethan and Julia!” Moishe chimes in, lifting his glass. “May their life together be sweet.”
“And may his dick not wander like his father’s,” Susie adds.
“There it is,” Joel grumbles.
*****
Ethan’s mothers make good on the engagement party. It’s extravagant, held at one of the beautiful, usually off-the-table restaurants in Chinatown. It had taken a lot of planning, but leave it to the two most capable women in his life.
He’s also deeply aware that while Susie didn’t help plan it, she’d certainly helped pay for it. He knows that it was not at all cheap to pull this off. Not only is Ethan’s family and circle of friends relatively large, but Julia’s family is an army, with her parents, three brothers, seven aunts and uncles and fourteen cousins.
Ethan sighs softly as he looks out at the crowd, wrapping his arm around Julia and kissing her cheek before getting to his feet.
“You know, usually my Ma is the one who gives the speech, but she has a reputation for telling the worst story she can possibly think of  when she does, so I’m taking the reigns.”
Everyone chuckles and Midge shrugs sheepishly from her seat next to Lenny.
“I am a lucky guy,” Ethan says. “Have been for as long as I can remember. Two powerhouse moms who have done nothing but support me. Two dads who are very good at teaching me about life. Siblings who support me no matter. Doting grandparents and aunts and uncles. And Susie, who is, in fact, the best friend a five-year-old child of divorce could have asked for.” 
Everyone chuckles at that and Susie rolls her eyes, but she looks misty-eyed as well.
“And now I’m even luckier,” Ethan goes on. “Because not only do I get Julia out of this whole marriage thing, but I get her incredibly large, loving family in the deal as well, and that’s a big get. And I could probably go on for another hour about how incredible and loving and sweet and smart and beautiful Julia is. I should probably save some material for the actual wedding. Instead, I’ll just thank all of you for coming to celebrate. Thank Ma and Mei and Susie for this great party, and say cheers.”
Everyone repeats the cheers, and drink and cheer and Ethan leans over to kiss Julia happily.
51 notes · View notes