Eren Edward Jaeger, a graduate from Harvard Law School and corporate lawyer, is an anonymous writ... more Eren Edward Jaeger, a graduate from Harvard Law School and corporate lawyer, is an anonymous writer who is looking for an outlet to his boring life. While struggling to go to his monotonous job, he also has to deal with his high electricity bills, his sad heterosexual single life, and his persistent mother living in his house who has done nothing but mooch off of him since he was eighteen. However, on a depressing day where he has to attend his father's wedding with his new bride, he finds a sudden interest in the bride's alcoholic and anger-driven son. Notes See the end of the work for notes Minnie Fucking Riperton Chapter Summary "I wish you would get married at twenty. I would beat your ass." "Ma', let's not get into a discussion about how young marriage ruins lives. I've had to hear it since I was nine, so I think I'm fine." I whisper to her. I fake a smile when Isabel sets her eyes on me and she grins back happily. Chapter Notes a nuclear family: a couple and their dependent children (the ideal household with a wife, husband, and their children) The music playing is decent at my father's wedding. The moderate pianissimo and soft strum of the acoustic guitar blooming out of the speakers lifts my pounding headache. It did not, however, stop my overzealous mother from her inconsiderate wording that has been sprouting since we've arrived. I find that ignoring her has always been difficult, so I toss that thought away and recollect to reality. "I'm not angry, I just think it's fucked up how he invited us, put us in the back, and didn't even have the decency to have you-a writer-write his vows!" "I'm pretty sure that's not how things work." A subtle sip of my wine. My tongue peeks out and collects the crimson residue. A tropical taste lingers, leaving my buds savoring the flavor as I scrutinize the crowd of middle-aged adults dressed in tight fabricated dresses. A shift occurs next to me with a powerful sigh following after. Slightly turning my head, I act as if I can't hear my mother's words. "Whatever, and I'm not jealous. If anything, I'm glad your father found someone else because God knows I didn't want to deal with his weak, punk ass." "Mom-" Finally, having enough of her sprouting nonsense and insults, I glare at her and almost slam my glass down."We are literally near the children's area. Besides, when it starts we'll head up to see better, okay?" Carla, or otherwise my mother, rolls her eyes and crosses her legs in her ruby red dress. She licks her teeth for any red lipstick and tuts her lips. Leaning in her chair, she stabs a piece of her sliced pineapple and shoves it into her mouth. "And he gives us fruit for appetizers. I'm over it." In actuality, she isn't, because my mom is stubborn, and Mom holds burdens longer than she holds her curling iron to her hair. I roll my eyes and grip the skinny body of the transparent wine glass to take another sip. I could at least agree with her on that. The appetizers were shit if it meant to fill us up."I was hoping we'd have more, so I could barf when the kiss happens. "My Mom imitates a vomiting motion, and though I try not to fall into the childish pit of anger she has toward my father, I still snort and place my hand on my forehead. "I don't know how you managed to raise me alone," I whisper to myself with a hint of humor in my tone. Mom looks offended for a while before she points her plastic fork to me to indicate speaking. "Actually, you were a quiet kid." She says, "You always sat down and was always quiet. I never had any problems with you. My only problem was keeping my blood pressure low and affording my hair extensions. So really, I don't know how I managed at all." Mom pulls her plastic ivory fork out of my face. "Why would you ask such a stupid question? You were probably the most boring child." I scoff in an offense and point to my sister, Mikasa, who sat at a table in front of us with her annoying mammal husband. "Really? I'm boring. Have you seen Jean? He looks like Nicolas Cage's fifty-year-old son. Mikasa has picked the epitome of a boring life." I announce proudly, defending my honor as a son with an actually interesting character. My Mom laughs so loud that people in the front tables turn to glare at us. She bangs the table, clattering the silverware, and wipes a fake tear. Speaking of the devil, Mikasa, with her silk black dress flowing from her shoulders and hair curled at the ends, turns around and analyzes us. For sure, we were pretty loud. "What are you guys laughing at?" She asks with interest and her eyebrows scrunched up. Jean, her husband with horse-ass hair and my high-school not-so-best-friend, turns as well and puts his arm on the chair to see better. My Mom puts her hand to her chest and breathes out before answering. She flips a curl away from her glowing red face. "Nothing sweetheart!" She flutters her hand at my sister and pushes her full, dark brown ironed hair behind to her back. "Eat your broccoli and ranch, dear!" Mikasa rolls her eyes and visibly shows her munching on a carrot. She's a vegan. She must love this shit right now. "I think your father built this wedding for Mikasa and his wife's standards. What about me?" Mom continues her rants again. I only look into the crowd and try to tune her out as much as possible. "I carried both of them for a total of nine months. Her in my stomach and his wife's load of complaints about how she wants to be a family on email. I can't even get chicken on a stick?" I sigh loudly at her and lean in my seat. My mom wiggles her nose and glares at the decorated stage almost miles away. She lifts her wine glass and before drinking, she growls out-"Stupid cu-" "Okay." I grab the transparent glass from my Mom, giving her a comforting side look and place the glass at the far left of the table. "No more drinks. This is probably the reason we were put in the back, Mom." Mom stretches her neck at me and gives me a knowing glare. "Why would you be back here then?" She searches my face for a precise answer. Before I can answer, Mikasa walks up behind us to search in Mom's purse. She leans over to our height and speaks. "Because you both have the same mind. If anything, I would think you two are the fraternal twins." Mikasa pulls out a deep chocolate brown lipstick and applies it carefully by looking into her phone's reflection. "Whenever Mom is sad, Eren is sad. Whenever Eren is angry, Mom is angry. Hell, there was even a time when you both picked the same couch, bed, table, and floor decoration when you moved in together. And yes, that is surprising. You are both mutants of the mind." After finishing applying, she throws the lipstick in the purse and smacks her lips. "Unless Dad just doesn't like you." "I'll go with that," I respond, almost offended that she considered me and Mom attached to the hip when we were in the same womb together. It's not my fault she scattered along to Jean and I found my own way afterward. Mikasa, ever since she had been with the asshole, has been more of a distant cousin that visits every month. "I never asked to be Mom's stunt double." I stubbornly cross my legs over each other and glare ahead at the wedding stage. My mom rolls her eyes and flickers her hand at the chuckling Mikasa. "Ah, you made him mad now. Go back to your farm! Shoo!" Mikasa waddles away in her tight dress, making sure to give me a mocking wink and a shallow middle finger when she flips her hand out of her face. I ignore her and look over at Mom, who now was pouting and obviously ready to get the day over. "When are we starting?" Mom yells with a clap of her hands. "If I have to complain one more time-" "I would like to announce the intermission of appetizers-" A clear, crisp voice announces. The lights in the building dim down, and suddenly there are fluorescent bulbs gleaming around the room-illuminating guests' faces and the individual on stage. His hazel hair was flipped over and out of his face with the sides of his head shaved down. His suit supported dark colors, such as grey, black, and deep brown. His eyes sparkled as he spoke into the microphone. "-and our special guest to sing our groom and bride's song. I would like to introduce-" "Is this some concert?" I mutter to my Mom as I look around the room irritatingly. "We've seriously been sitting here for an hour just eating peeled apples and nasty ass celery." Ironically, just as I said those words, waiters flooded into the room with plates on their palm in the air. They selected tables and sat the plates on them-it all full of delicious sliced meats and other foods that seemed unhealthy. I sit up in my seat and yell. "Mikasa! Send them over here! It's deer and peacock!" Mikasa turns her head angrily to glare at me. "Vegan special for my table. Sucks for you." She mouthed. I don't know how I heard her, but that didn't really matter in my head. I roll my eyes and lift my hands up in disappointment. As a waitress comes over and places a plate on our table, I hurriedly grab my fork and peek over at my Mom. "Mikasa got the special treatment again. But look-" I point to the small, silver glass bowl full of mushrooms and garlic in front of me. "I get mushrooms. He did this on purpose. He knows I hate mushrooms." "I like mushrooms though," Mom says. She stabs her fork into the mushy food and eats it with her hand under her chin. "Mhm." "You think he gave you that 'cause he likes you? Hate to break it to you, but if he doesn't care about me-he sure as hell doesn't care about you." "Wow, thanks Eren. It's not like we weren't married or high school sweethearts and prom king and queen and homecoming cou-" "-a divorced couple because he decided he liked rich, black-haired women more." "Honestly!" Mom starts, curiosity on her face as she crosses her arms. "I think it's because she doesn't have kids that are annoying. He is always getting Mikasa shit, but that's because Mikasa is the only one who stays away from him."She shakes her head and tuts her...
Eren Edward Jaeger, a graduate from Harvard Law School and corporate lawyer, is an anonymous writ... more Eren Edward Jaeger, a graduate from Harvard Law School and corporate lawyer, is an anonymous writer who is looking for an outlet to his boring life. While struggling to go to his monotonous job, he also has to deal with his high electricity bills, his sad heterosexual single life, and his persistent mother living in his house who has done nothing but mooch off of him since he was eighteen. However, on a depressing day where he has to attend his father's wedding with his new bride, he finds a sudden interest in the bride's alcoholic and anger-driven son. Notes See the end of the work for notes Minnie Fucking Riperton Chapter Summary "I wish you would get married at twenty. I would beat your ass." "Ma', let's not get into a discussion about how young marriage ruins lives. I've had to hear it since I was nine, so I think I'm fine." I whisper to her. I fake a smile when Isabel sets her eyes on me and she grins back happily. Chapter Notes a nuclear family: a couple and their dependent children (the ideal household with a wife, husband, and their children) The music playing is decent at my father's wedding. The moderate pianissimo and soft strum of the acoustic guitar blooming out of the speakers lifts my pounding headache. It did not, however, stop my overzealous mother from her inconsiderate wording that has been sprouting since we've arrived. I find that ignoring her has always been difficult, so I toss that thought away and recollect to reality. "I'm not angry, I just think it's fucked up how he invited us, put us in the back, and didn't even have the decency to have you-a writer-write his vows!" "I'm pretty sure that's not how things work." A subtle sip of my wine. My tongue peeks out and collects the crimson residue. A tropical taste lingers, leaving my buds savoring the flavor as I scrutinize the crowd of middle-aged adults dressed in tight fabricated dresses. A shift occurs next to me with a powerful sigh following after. Slightly turning my head, I act as if I can't hear my mother's words. "Whatever, and I'm not jealous. If anything, I'm glad your father found someone else because God knows I didn't want to deal with his weak, punk ass." "Mom-" Finally, having enough of her sprouting nonsense and insults, I glare at her and almost slam my glass down."We are literally near the children's area. Besides, when it starts we'll head up to see better, okay?" Carla, or otherwise my mother, rolls her eyes and crosses her legs in her ruby red dress. She licks her teeth for any red lipstick and tuts her lips. Leaning in her chair, she stabs a piece of her sliced pineapple and shoves it into her mouth. "And he gives us fruit for appetizers. I'm over it." In actuality, she isn't, because my mom is stubborn, and Mom holds burdens longer than she holds her curling iron to her hair. I roll my eyes and grip the skinny body of the transparent wine glass to take another sip. I could at least agree with her on that. The appetizers were shit if it meant to fill us up."I was hoping we'd have more, so I could barf when the kiss happens. "My Mom imitates a vomiting motion, and though I try not to fall into the childish pit of anger she has toward my father, I still snort and place my hand on my forehead. "I don't know how you managed to raise me alone," I whisper to myself with a hint of humor in my tone. Mom looks offended for a while before she points her plastic fork to me to indicate speaking. "Actually, you were a quiet kid." She says, "You always sat down and was always quiet. I never had any problems with you. My only problem was keeping my blood pressure low and affording my hair extensions. So really, I don't know how I managed at all." Mom pulls her plastic ivory fork out of my face. "Why would you ask such a stupid question? You were probably the most boring child." I scoff in an offense and point to my sister, Mikasa, who sat at a table in front of us with her annoying mammal husband. "Really? I'm boring. Have you seen Jean? He looks like Nicolas Cage's fifty-year-old son. Mikasa has picked the epitome of a boring life." I announce proudly, defending my honor as a son with an actually interesting character. My Mom laughs so loud that people in the front tables turn to glare at us. She bangs the table, clattering the silverware, and wipes a fake tear. Speaking of the devil, Mikasa, with her silk black dress flowing from her shoulders and hair curled at the ends, turns around and analyzes us. For sure, we were pretty loud. "What are you guys laughing at?" She asks with interest and her eyebrows scrunched up. Jean, her husband with horse-ass hair and my high-school not-so-best-friend, turns as well and puts his arm on the chair to see better. My Mom puts her hand to her chest and breathes out before answering. She flips a curl away from her glowing red face. "Nothing sweetheart!" She flutters her hand at my sister and pushes her full, dark brown ironed hair behind to her back. "Eat your broccoli and ranch, dear!" Mikasa rolls her eyes and visibly shows her munching on a carrot. She's a vegan. She must love this shit right now. "I think your father built this wedding for Mikasa and his wife's standards. What about me?" Mom continues her rants again. I only look into the crowd and try to tune her out as much as possible. "I carried both of them for a total of nine months. Her in my stomach and his wife's load of complaints about how she wants to be a family on email. I can't even get chicken on a stick?" I sigh loudly at her and lean in my seat. My mom wiggles her nose and glares at the decorated stage almost miles away. She lifts her wine glass and before drinking, she growls out-"Stupid cu-" "Okay." I grab the transparent glass from my Mom, giving her a comforting side look and place the glass at the far left of the table. "No more drinks. This is probably the reason we were put in the back, Mom." Mom stretches her neck at me and gives me a knowing glare. "Why would you be back here then?" She searches my face for a precise answer. Before I can answer, Mikasa walks up behind us to search in Mom's purse. She leans over to our height and speaks. "Because you both have the same mind. If anything, I would think you two are the fraternal twins." Mikasa pulls out a deep chocolate brown lipstick and applies it carefully by looking into her phone's reflection. "Whenever Mom is sad, Eren is sad. Whenever Eren is angry, Mom is angry. Hell, there was even a time when you both picked the same couch, bed, table, and floor decoration when you moved in together. And yes, that is surprising. You are both mutants of the mind." After finishing applying, she throws the lipstick in the purse and smacks her lips. "Unless Dad just doesn't like you." "I'll go with that," I respond, almost offended that she considered me and Mom attached to the hip when we were in the same womb together. It's not my fault she scattered along to Jean and I found my own way afterward. Mikasa, ever since she had been with the asshole, has been more of a distant cousin that visits every month. "I never asked to be Mom's stunt double." I stubbornly cross my legs over each other and glare ahead at the wedding stage. My mom rolls her eyes and flickers her hand at the chuckling Mikasa. "Ah, you made him mad now. Go back to your farm! Shoo!" Mikasa waddles away in her tight dress, making sure to give me a mocking wink and a shallow middle finger when she flips her hand out of her face. I ignore her and look over at Mom, who now was pouting and obviously ready to get the day over. "When are we starting?" Mom yells with a clap of her hands. "If I have to complain one more time-" "I would like to announce the intermission of appetizers-" A clear, crisp voice announces. The lights in the building dim down, and suddenly there are fluorescent bulbs gleaming around the room-illuminating guests' faces and the individual on stage. His hazel hair was flipped over and out of his face with the sides of his head shaved down. His suit supported dark colors, such as grey, black, and deep brown. His eyes sparkled as he spoke into the microphone. "-and our special guest to sing our groom and bride's song. I would like to introduce-" "Is this some concert?" I mutter to my Mom as I look around the room irritatingly. "We've seriously been sitting here for an hour just eating peeled apples and nasty ass celery." Ironically, just as I said those words, waiters flooded into the room with plates on their palm in the air. They selected tables and sat the plates on them-it all full of delicious sliced meats and other foods that seemed unhealthy. I sit up in my seat and yell. "Mikasa! Send them over here! It's deer and peacock!" Mikasa turns her head angrily to glare at me. "Vegan special for my table. Sucks for you." She mouthed. I don't know how I heard her, but that didn't really matter in my head. I roll my eyes and lift my hands up in disappointment. As a waitress comes over and places a plate on our table, I hurriedly grab my fork and peek over at my Mom. "Mikasa got the special treatment again. But look-" I point to the small, silver glass bowl full of mushrooms and garlic in front of me. "I get mushrooms. He did this on purpose. He knows I hate mushrooms." "I like mushrooms though," Mom says. She stabs her fork into the mushy food and eats it with her hand under her chin. "Mhm." "You think he gave you that 'cause he likes you? Hate to break it to you, but if he doesn't care about me-he sure as hell doesn't care about you." "Wow, thanks Eren. It's not like we weren't married or high school sweethearts and prom king and queen and homecoming cou-" "-a divorced couple because he decided he liked rich, black-haired women more." "Honestly!" Mom starts, curiosity on her face as she crosses her arms. "I think it's because she doesn't have kids that are annoying. He is always getting Mikasa shit, but that's because Mikasa is the only one who stays away from him."She shakes her head and tuts her...
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