My wife got sick. She was constantly nervous because of problems at work, personal life, her failures and problems with children.
She has lost 30 pounds and weighed about 90 pounds in her 35 years. She got very skinny, and was constantly crying. She was not a happy woman. She had suffered from continuing headaches, heart pain and jammed nerves in her back and ribs.
She did not sleep well, falling asleep only in the morning and got tired very quickly during the day. Our relationship was on the verge of break up.
Her beauty was leaving her somewhere, she had bags under her eyes, she was poking her head, and stopped taking care of herself. She refused to shoot the films and rejected any role.
I lost hope and thought that we’ll get divorced soon…But then I decided to act on it.
After all I’ve got the most beautiful woman on the earth.
She is the idol of more than half of men and women on earth, and I was the one allowed to fall asleep next to her and to hug her shoulders.
I began to pamper her with flowers, kisses and compliments. I surprised her and pleased her every minute. I gave her lots of gifts and lived just for her. I spoke in public only about her. I incorporated all themes in her direction. I praised her in front of her own and our mutual friends.
You won’t believe it, but she blossomed. She became even better than before. She gained weight, was no longer nervous and she loved me even more than ever. I had no clue that she CAN love that much. And then I realized one thing: The woman is the reflection of her man. If you love her to the point of madness, she will become it.
The Crack Fic Muse strikes again. Honestly, you couldn’t make this up, and believe me I didn’t. I mean seriously, who boils eggs in a kettle?? *side eyes* @goodbyecommander
“This tastes like ass.”
“I’m sorry?” Erwin looks up from his newspaper and peers at his husband across the breakfast table.
“This tea. It tastes like ass.”
Levi glares at his tea with an expression that could curdle milk. Luckily he drinks his tea black.
“Like ass?” Erwin is doing a poor job of disguising his smirk.
“And not in a good way.” Levi adds sternly.
“I thought you liked…” Erwin starts innocently.
“Don’t say it. Don’t fucking say it.”
Erwin returns his attention to the local newspaper he’s flicking through on the table.
“Did you rinse the cup properly? You always leave soap on the cups. You have to rinse them after washing or everything tastes like fucking detergent.”
“I always rinse your tea cups after washing them darling.”
Erwin learned the hard way that Levi’s tea cups were to be carefully washed and rinsed by hand. Not just dunked in soapy water, and never on any account to be placed in the dishwasher.
“The tea must be out of date then.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Did you check the date?”
“No, but I know it’s not it of date because I opened a new packet this morning.” Erwin explains patiently. “You finished the last packet last night, remember?”
Levi continues glaring at his tea cup as Erwin browses through the newspaper, unperturbed by his husband’s mood. He’s always a little short tempered in the mornings before he’s had his first cup of tea. An advert in the newspaper catches Erwin’s eye.
“Oh look, there’s a new Brazilian restaurant opening in town. We should go!”
“No.” “For old times sake?” Erwin adds hopefully.
“No fucking way.”
Silence reigns over the breakfast table for a few peaceful moments until Levi takes another sip of tea.
“Fucking disgusting. The kettle must need washing.”
“I washed it out yesterday after making lunch.”
“Why were you using the kettle at lunchtime?” Levi peers suspiciously across the table at Erwin. “Did you break your cafetiere in the dishwasher again?”
“No, not since the last time.”
“Why were you using the kettle then?”
Levi’s frown is deepening.
“I was making eggs.”
“I was boiling eggs.”
“I was boiling eggs in the kettle.”
Levi gapes at Erwin, mouth hanging open, eyes blown wide. It’s not too dissimilar to the expression on his face when he came last night. Erwin can’t help smiling fondly at the mental image.
“What. The. Fuck?” Levi spits, horror and disbelief dripping from every word. “Why the fuck were you boiling eggs in the kettle?”
“I was hungry,” Erwin replies reasonably. Clearly that explains everything.
“Don’t we have a pan for that kind of thing?” Levi asks, voice laced with cold rage.
“I couldn’t find the lid and I was in a hurry. It worked really well actually!” Erwin continues, pleased with his clever innovation. Erwin prides himself on being a creative and resourceful thinker. “You can fit five eggs in there you know. I just boiled the kettle and then let it sit for ten minutes or so. Perfect boiled eggs! And don’t worry, I washed the kettle thoroughly afterwards.”
Levi’s mouth is hanging open again, face scarlet with fury. Erwin stops.
“Are you all right darling? You look a little flushed.”
“Right that’s it Smith.” Levi snaps. “Divorce. Now.”
He tugs off his wedding band and slams it down on the table. Erwin slowly raises his eyebrows. He’s used to his husband’s theatrics by now.
“You can keep the fucking kettle. I’m having the house.”
That’s when the doorbell rings.
Levi leaps to his feet, marches down the hall and hauls open the door.
“What the fuck do you want?”
The man on the doorstep blanches as he looks down at the tiny ball of quivering fury.
“Umm…. sorry to bother you sir, Water Board.”
He flashes a laminated card at Levi and points nervously to the badge on his overalls.
“Can I help you sir?” Erwin asks smoothly from behind Levi’s shoulder.
“Oh,” the man almost crumples with relief at the sight of Erwin’s calm polite smile. “Sorry sir, Water Board, we’ve going to have to turn your water off for an hour, we’re working on the mains, you might have noticed your water doesn’t taste quite right, but we’ll have it fixed in no time.”
“Thank you for letting us know,” Erwin slides his arm round Levi’s shoulders. “My husband was just commenting that the water seemed a bit off, weren’t you darling?”
“Well, sorry to bother you sirs.”
The man is already backing away down the path.
“Not a problem, have a nice day.”
Erwin waves at the workman as he departs.
“You’re still a fucking moron,” Levi huffs.
Erwin just smiles and hands his husband the wedding ring that he’d left lying on the kitchen table. Levi slides it back onto his finger with a scowl.
“And you’re buying me a new fucking kettle.”
“Anything you say darling,” Erwin replies, kissing his husband sweetly on the head. “I’d offer to make you fresh tea, but since the water is off, we’ll just have to think of some other way to get that nasty taste out of your mouth….”
Why not ask Rick to take him to the Jerry Daycare? It’s a place entirely dedicated to keeping Jerrys content and well cared for, and it doesn’t seem like there’s a price associated with it, some Jerrys were just abandoned. Jerry could just live there instead of washing his underwear in a sink and eating shitty microwave dinners.
I’m not going to be able to get over this now I thought about it. Did everybody else forget about this? Does Jerry not consider this an option for some reason?
I need Rick talking about his time in prison, and Jerry, Beth, Summer and Morty talking and thanking him for saving them, and the smiths dealing with the divorce in a healthy way and being friendly, and Jerry meeting sleepy Gary and kissing him, and Summer and Morty getting better, and Rick dealing with his drinking problem and his loss, and Robot Morty running in streams and hugging Beth.
At 52, Rolling Stones bassist Bill Wyman married 18-year-old Mandy Smith but divorced after a year. Bill’s 30-year-old son then Stephen married Mandy’s mother, age 46. If Bill and Mandy had remained married, Stephen would have been his father’s father-in-law and his own grandpa. (source)
A daft little modern AU for @goodbyecommander who should know better than to challenge me by now. Also for anyone else who is anal about how to load a dishwasher. Enjoy.
“Right! That’s it Smith. I’m fucking divorcing you!”
The bedroom door slams open with such force that it bounces back off the wall and almost hits Levi in the face.
“God fucking dammit, I swear to fuck…” he growls.
“Levi darling,” Erwin mumbles, peeling his face off the pillow, “could you keep it down a little? I’m feeling a bit fragile…”
“Fragile? I’ll show you fucking fragile.”
Erwin cracks one bleary eye open and finds his husband looming over him, face like thunder, brandishing a jagged shard of glass stem.
“Think you could put me out of my misery with that?” Erwin groans as his hangover makes its presence felt.
“Don’t fucking tempt me,” Levi snarls. “Nothing would give me greater pleasure.”
“Shhh darling…” Erwin pleads, “come back to bed and tell me what the matter is. Only could you please just do it quietly?”
“Don’t you fucking shush me you piece of shit! You broke my blender and all my stem ware. Again. I fucking warned you; next time it’s divorce. Did you listen? Did you fuck. There’s one glass left. One!”
Levi is really getting into his stride now and though Erwin cringes at every caustic word, he also can’t help admiring how cute Levi looks when he gets pissed. The fact that he’s wearing nothing more than one of Erwin’s oversized t-shirts and an apron adorned with a vintage print of a French maid’s outfit only adds to the picture.
“What the fuck are you smirking at?” Levi snaps.
Dammit. Caught in the act. Erwin quickly schools his features into something more contrite.
“You think I’m joking?” Levi continues. “Those were our best glasses! I told you I’d wash them by hand, but oh no, ‘I’ll clear up’ you said, ‘leave it to me’ you said, ‘you just go to bed now’. I should have known better. How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t. Put. Glasses. In. The. Fucking. Dishwasher.”
He’s standing beside the bed now jabbing Erwin in the chest to emphasise each word. Erwin winces with each jab, though he’s thankful that it’s Levi’s finger doing the jabbing rather than the lethal looking glass stem.
“I’m sorry baby,” Erwin adopts his most pathetic expression and gazes up at Levi, “I was just trying to help, you put so much effort into the cooking, it’s the least I could do.”
There is a grain of truth in the excuse. The previous evening, they had been entertaining Nile, Marie, Mike and Nanaba, and Levi as always had insisted on doing all the cooking. Much as Levi professed to loath entertaining, Erwin knew that he enjoyed having an excuse to show off his not inconsiderable culinary skills, and truth be told, Erwin equally enjoyed having an excuse to show off his tiny talented husband. It had been an enjoyable evening that had ended with them making a sizeable dent in Erwin’s whisky collection. It was the wee small hours of the morning when they had finally poured their guests into a cab and Erwin knew from experience that if he let Levi start clearing up the kitchen he’d be there till god knows when. And by that stage in proceedings Erwin very much wanted Levi not in the kitchen but in the bedroom. Luckily Levi was stifling a yawn as the cab pulled away and that was sufficient excuse for Erwin to insist he go straight to bed while he tidied up the kitchen. Which was how Erwin ended up flinging their crockery and glassware into the dishwasher at three in the morning before racing up the stairs in an attempt to claim his conjugal rights before Levi fell asleep. His haste had paid off and, as he remembers the way Levi had melted into his arms, he can’t help reflecting that it was worth breaking every last piece of glassware in the house. The memory of Levi lying warm and pliant beneath him is more than enough to distract Erwin from his hangover. Blithely ignoring Levi’s foul temper he reaches out one arm catches him round the waist and pulls him down onto the bed.
“Come back to bed and I’ll make it up to you darling,” Erwin coos sliding one hand under Levi’s apron.
“I don’t know why you insisted we use the best stem ware anyway,” Levi grumbles, still not quite ready to be placated, though he makes no attempt to get up off the bed. “It’s not like we had anyone special round.”
“I just wanted everything to be perfect after you put so much effort into the meal.” Sensing the beginnings of a thaw in Levi’s mood, Erwin risks sliding his hand lower. “Even Nile commented how nice the table looked.”
“Tch,” Levi tuts, crossing his arms and looking pointedly away. “I bet Nile knows how to load a dishwasher.”
“Darling!” Erwin gasps in mock affront. “Are you suggesting you’d rather swap me for Nile?”
“Yeah, right…” Levi scoffs, rolling his eyes.
“I suppose he does have a lot going for him.” Erwin’s giving it full on puppy dog eyes now. “He’s sweet, concerned, handsome…” each epithet is accompanied by a kiss to Levi’s arm, his thigh, any bit of him that Erwin can reach without lifting his head too far off the pillow. “He’s a loving family man, a faithful friend, to say nothing of that luxuriant facial hair.” Erwin pulls the string of Levi’s apron, drapes it over his upper lip and bats his eyes winsomely. “All that and he has an awesome way with a dishwasher too. How can I possibly compete against such a man?”
“Oh for fuck sake.” Levi snorts, snatching the tie of his apron from under Erwin’s nose. “Fucking idiot. If you think I want to wake up next to that rat-faced bastard, you must be still hammered.”
“Does this mean you’re not going to divorce me then?” Erwin grins.
“I’ll think about it.” Levi sniffs
“How about if I give you something something else to think about?”
Erwin’s mouthing at Levi’s hip now, working his way south.
Before long Levi isn’t thinking of much at all and the broken glass stem lies forgotten on the table beside the bed. Erwin breathes a sigh of relief as his marriage survives another day.