ambitiouspotions

[ambitiouspotions]

I am excited for your Lalo Salamanca Part 2 fiction; That I dream about it!✨💗♡♡

omg people still read the lalo stuff 🫠

it’s in the works—totally not having to find a way to keep my plotline stay on track, but i have so much to say!

and it is so far from canon that it is lowkey sickening but idk it just seems fun to rearrange some stuff. also there are some slightly obscure smut scenes that are in part 2.

[ambitiouspotions]

yeah, i see you little fuckers reading debatable. you know what? i know you want some dude as old as your dad to get you off. you sick fucks.

(it’s me. i’m talking about me.)

[ambitiouspotions]

has anyone written joel miller x slow hand by conway twitty? i’m sure it’s been done, but if someone has a link pls share with the class (for research purposes only of course, not some weird reason or anything)

[ambitiouspotions]

i am extremely sorry for my absence and not pushing out hot little sexy fanfics but holy fucking shit i’m running on e. if something could go wrong it went wrong.

i’m about to overshare legit just to put my thoughts in one spot. putting a cut so you can scroll if you want. this is really not edited ily muah. again i’m sorry sorry.

on top of my very busy work schedule, my son who is 2 got very ill. though due to him not having fever or nothing being “wrong” with him other than that he looked awful and had an entirely swollen face for a week and a half i had to go to work with him despite my mommy heart feeling terrible knowing he didn't feel like his normal self.

he had chronic ear infections causing his first set of eustachian tubes to be placed at 10 months old—tuesday (july 29th) he had the second set of tubes placed and his adenoids removed. unfortunately the surgeon said he has a cleft uvula so that is probably what is causing his ear infections. so although they removed his adenoids and placed new tubes the surgeon said he was more than likely going to have to get a third set and probably a couple more after that.

and behind the scenes of my son’s illness, summer has struck my job i have been EXTRA busy. extra kids, extra workload, new people that make me feel like i have more to do because they aren't being helpful. my anxiety has been through the freakin’ roof. oh let me just tell you. tomorrow I AM FUCKED. oh so fucked. can't even imagine to tell you HOW FUCKED I AM. PARTY DAY? going to fucking die. back to school bash mf gonna end up drowning myself in a water table. oh my god and i’m trying to be so nice to these people like really fucking nice but my

and among that, my father who barely talks to me had been calling me almost every day to talk to me about my dying grandparents. it’s one of those relationships where i feel bad if i don't talk to them but then feel like shit when they talk to me because they are always so mean and rude. so now that they are dying and my dad is seemingly upset i’m feeling for them, but at the same time, it is so hard for me to know what to do or say when they have criticized my entire being and everyone else around them as well.

lmao and today my son threw up and guess who is still going to work tomorrow? yeah, me.

bro and my dog ate a fucking diaper bc my fiance didn't close the trash can so that was another fucking $500 at the emergency vet to induce vomiting.

[ambitiouspotions]

i am deeply sorry chef carmen berzatto. i am under the influence of copious amounts of marijuana gummies to help my anxiety. i was hungry. the munchies, you see, are not the crime i committed. i wanted a simple bowl of butter noodles. creamy, the kind you save a little startchy water for; fresh cracked black pepper and the nob of butter that just makes it divine. you see, chef, i didn't have boxed pasta probably because i used the last box when my toddler wanted “spkettis” for dinner. i’m a mom that says we have food at home. we can always make something tasty, but chef, tonight that’s not what happened.

chef, i want to reiterate that i am very sorry. i, in my state of high, went for the flour and then the eggs. chef, i only had all-purpose flour. chef, i barely even looked at a recipe. i just let it rip. chef, dude, it was fuckin’ dough. i don't know why i thought making pasta while i was high would make any sense.

i tried to see it out—i did. cracked some himalayan salt into boiling water and tried to cut out “pasta noodles” with a paring knife on my granite countertops. it floated after a bit. chef, it wasn't a noodle. it was a goddamn dumpling that hadn't been kneaded enough or maybe kneaded too much. can i have a drop of forgiveness because the sauce was as luscious and tasty as always? no? i didn't think so after the violence i committed against two vital ingredients. chef, i cannot be more apologetic.

i had to try it to shame myself even more. all i can commend myself for is that it wasn't fucking raw and the sauce made it edible for thirty seconds. chef, it was awful. i cannot begin to even say how extremely and deeply sorry i really am. i hate being wasteful. i really tried to stomach it, but after three bites i had to sit down before i died of embarrassment in my own kitchen after being humbled by homemade pasta…aka the disc of floppy unyeasted form of bread dough. my grandmother is rolling in her grave for immigrating from sicily to provide a granddaughter who committed that culinary disaster.

[ambitiouspotions]

recently started watching brooklyn nine nine (now on s.1.ep.13) and all i have thought since ep 1 is that i’d happily fuck charles boyle

[ambitiouspotions]

i realized it was unfair not to share a picture of him

bedrotting and my 80 pound dog sits on top of me or cries when he can't get next to me

doc is open and i’m not typing sorry ily homies

[ambitiouspotions]

bedrotting and my 80 pound dog sits on top of me or cries when he can't get next to me

doc is open and i’m not typing sorry ily homies

[ambitiouspotions]

about to go back to work after lunch break and thought i would release another upcoming fic because mikey is the only one pinging ideas in my head right now

will probably add more warning tags later (:

also, i am writing as fast as i can on my busy schedule so between THIS ISN’T THAT and IN-HOME, AT HOME i don’t know which one will surface first, but PETAL & KEEPER ((neville longbottom) should be out this weekend?)

[ambitiouspotions]

screaming, crying, throwing up bc some hotties reblogged my shitty fak edit

this is a niche audience i feel /: but here you go, dinner is served

same handle on tiktok *muah*

[ambitiouspotions]

reblog because a lot of people have been reading it lately! and my answer on a part 2 is still a no /: sorry guys!

Are you making a part 2 for the Mikey age gap?

i have been back and forth about this in my head and right now my answer is no, and that is for a handful reasons.

post in question: DEBATABLE | MIKEY BERZATTO

⚠️ spoiler warnings ahead⚠️

the fling was always meant to end. summer is done, and even though you (reader) has texted and asked to see him at christmas that doesn't change the fact that it will end again. you (reader) will still have to return back to uf and continue your education.

you (reader) are ignorant and oblivious. at twenty i thought i knew everything—i did not know everything even when i wanted to pretend i did, so reader is based off of that logic a little. so that pain and hurt will keep cycling back no matter how many times you (reader) might return home to chicago and bust one out with mikey bear.

mikey. mikey is a grown ass man. he made some questionable decisions in relation to you, probably none that he regrets, but none the less he wouldn't say no to getting laid. yeah, watching you (reader) go back is difficult, but he's not going to fight for you to stay because he fully understands that he can't be anything to you. he would hold you back from your goals and doesn't want to ruin that for you. he never had a real dream (canon in the show — napkins episode) but i believe when he got sober he started setting real goals for himself and needed to keep at them. you would not be that dream. mending familial bonds, strengthening friendships, managing the bear, and most importantly watching out for himself are his main goals.

i feel like i would be writing a lot of recycled material for a part 2. naughty, disappointing, slightly angsty bullshit just reiterated for it to end the same way because no offense, i don't see you (reader) and mikey having a happily ever after. this is supposed to be raw emotion that you experience in your lifetime—if you've never had to experience that congratulations because it freaking hurts.

you (reader) don't have yourself figured out, and you don't need to, but by that logic hooking up with a man older than you who does have his life together after rebuilding it is counterintuitive to him. it's fun for mikey as it is for you to forget about responsibilities while you're tangled in the sheets, but he's still running a business the next day while you're focused on a different set of challenges. you and him are in very different stages of life and go about things in different ways.

i might change my mind in the future, but right now i will just leave it where it is. let me know if you have any other comments, questions or concerns related to DEBATABLE because, honestly, i loved this fic so much.

[ambitiouspotions]

WHY DIDN’T Y’ALL TELL ME THE ACCOUNTANT MOVIES WOULD MAKE MY COOCHIE THUMP?

[ambitiouspotions]

this is a niche audience i feel /: but here you go, dinner is served

same handle on tiktok *muah*

[ambitiouspotions]

lmao it’s a mikey fic without trigger warnings of course there’s a happy ending 💍❤️🍾

ARE YOU SURE? | MICHAEL BERZATTO

the minutes are ticking down to the moment you and mikey will say “i do.”

author’s note: a quick blurb because being engaged for the second time after my first shitty marriage has me in my feels.

taglist: @allinourprivate-traps , @empathyroad , @lets-turn-and-burn , @stefpink

natalie was straightening your veil and your sister was pulling at the bust of your dress. your hands were shaking as you tried to stabilize yourself on the back of the chair that had your bridal robe hanging on it. you were sucking in a deep breath as one of your friends tightened the back of your dress just a bit more because you previously stated that you felt like you were slipping out of it.

“you look so hot,” your friend said nodding her head as she looked at you in the mirror.

“she really does,” your sister agreed.

“mikey is lucky, like really lucky,” natalie chimed in as your hands ran over the front of your wedding gown.

you tilted your head, wondering how all the lead-up to this very day was completed. it felt like a battle to coordinate every piece of this wedding, including the fun parts.

“hey, you gotta breathe,” natalie reminded you, which made you exhale immediately. the hotness that rushed to your head was diminishing. “mikey’s going to kill me if you die before the wedding.”

your tears were threatening to fall because all the final touches were completed. your hair had never felt heavier with the multitude of pins and hairspray that pinned each strand in the correct place. your makeup was set in all of its glimmering glory. you looked gorgeous, and there was no denying it.

“no, no crying,” your sister squeaked, pulling a handkerchief off the hotel vanity and stuffing it in your hand.

“you can't ruin your makeup,” your friend put her head gently on your shoulder, a smile riddling her face as she hugged your waist. “it’s almost unfair how good you look don't try and make us look better by crying.”

a gaggle of laughs erupted as you fanned your face. you were settled to a gentle sniffle while still clutching your handkerchief.

a soft knock caught everyone’s attention.

“that’s gotta be the photographer,” you mumbled as everyone pulled away from you.

“we’ll see you again soon, go get him.” natalie encouraged, squeezing your hand one last time as you exited the hotel suite.

you were waiting behind a corner of the venue, anxiously awaiting mikey to be there as well. the shutter of the camera only increased more as he came closer. you linked hands, holding back all of your emotions as you blindly intertwined your fingers.

“hey, baby cakes.”

your grip wasn’t loosening because mikey’s voice and touch were both relaxing you, yet also making your chest feel so heavy. you and mikey had run yourselves thin accommodating to family and overworking yourselves—today was finally the day—no more worrisome months of planning and preparation. this day was going to be perfect because all you had to do now was take a couple of photos and walk down the aisle.

“hey,” you replied shakily, leaning your head back against the wall of the venue.

“you ready?” he asked, softly. he was staring at his feet despite the wall separating you and your groom.

“mhm.” the small response could barely be uttered because of your nervous excitement.

as mikey dropped your hand to turn around, you rounded the corner fully.

“holy shit,” he cursed, hardly lasting a second before he was holding the bridge of his nose as large tears rolled down his cheeks. “y-you look so fuckin’ pretty.”

you were trying to occupy yourself by dabbing only the corners of your eyes. it took a moment for him to embrace you because of how stunned he was at your appearance. he knew to expect a pretty white dress, but didn’t expect how gorgeous you truly looked while wearing it.

“didn’t think i’d be crying,” mikey murmured into your hair while his fingers fixated on the tule of your veil. “i’m such a dumbass,” he croaked while pulling you closer to his chest. “b-but you look so fuckin’ beautiful. i-i never thought i would deserve this—you—never thought i would ever deserve you, and n-now i’m standin’ here—” mikey could finish his heartwarming ramblings because of how choked up he was, but you understood everything he was trying to say.

you were playing with his tie, straightening the knot, and feeling the fabric of his suit jacket between your fingers. it was unreal standing before him as his bride, knowing you would be reciting vows to each other in just a couple of hours. your bottom lip was quivering, as you took his hand tightly in yours.

“i wouldn't want to do this with anyone else,” you whispered, looking up to meet his teary brown eyes. he was wearing such a genuinely soft expression—one that said more than his words. “i couldn't imagine having anyone else.”

“i’m always gonna be yours, baby cakes,” mikey assured you while sniffling. he wiped his eyes on the back of his wrist and soothed the small of your back. “no matter what.”

even with the photographer snapping photos, it was one of the more intimate moments of the day so far. you and mikey, respectively, had been getting prepared for the evening and tried to keep as much distance as possible despite being in such close proximity. it was the most pleasant moment to enjoy together. you each had the opportunity to let out a large initial gush of emotions before presenting yourselves to the crowd of family and friends.

inside the venue after the first look, everyone had taken their seats all bunched together to watch the highly anticipated berzatto wedding. the bridal party had walked perfectly on time and they were now only waiting for you.

mikey was awaiting the moment you would walk down the aisle to join him. he had practiced keeping his hands still for weeks in preparation, knowing he could never stop the nervous drumming of his fingers against the back of his clasped hand. at least he had broken the habit of rocking on his heels. he was now wondering how many people were staring at the anxious habit he had with his hands. it was a full venue with the seats all stacked, surprisingly quiet for the amount of berzattos on one side of the room.

“you sure about this, man?” richie whispered, leaning over to his best friend.

mikey blinked, snapping out of the deafening trance. “huh?”

“y’sure? i can get you outta here if you need me to,” richie repeated, gently patting mikey’s back as his eyes studied the room.

“rich, stop,” carmen warned. he leaned forward to better see his brother. “‘s gonna be fine, mike.”

mikey cleared his throat. “i know.” he stopped his incessant finger drumming to straighten up again. “i’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“thought i’d offer one last time,” richie shrugged, looking around. “think she’s gonna show?”

“what the fuck kinda question is that? i saw her a’hour and a half ago,” mikey looked over his shoulder to see a snickering richie who couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. carmen began shushing him, as more eyes from the crowd began wandering to the groom’s side.

“i’m kidding, just tryin�� to make you loosen up some,” richie chuckled.

donna was in the front row furrowing her eyebrows together, looking at carmen to decipher what all the whispering was about between her sons.

“you're makin’ me wanna vomit,” mikey retorted shrugging his shoulders back again.

“shut up, you're makin’ ma wanna leave,” carmen snipped, then looked back towards donna motioning with his hand to settle her down. she was uneasily adjusting in her chair causing lee to fish gum out of his suit jacket to pass to her.

richie couldn't help himself with his relentless teasing. he had never seen mikey so nervous in his entire life and his poor friend looked like his false sense of confidence was wearing off. it was the first time he had actually seen his friend look so vulnerable—especially over a girl.

“it was a joke, carm,” richie rolled his eyes as he looked back at the youngest berzatto sibling.

“you don't say shit like that at wedding,” carmen grumbled.

“both of you fuckin’ stop,” mikey interrupted, peering over his shoulder to quiet down the two behind him.

“i get fuckin’ weird at funerals and weddings—sorry.” richie apologized.

“you're always fuckin’ weird.” carmen was determined to speak the last word of the conversation.

“don't be a jagoff at your brother’s wedding, you fuckin’ baby.”

“holy fuckin’ shit,” mikey ran his hands down his face. “she really fuckin’ loves me if she puts up with all of my bullshit and all of yours.”

at the same moment the groomsmen were jabbering, your father’s arm was looped around yours waiting for the door to open at the right cue. your chest was pounding. the wedding march could be heard through the thick wood of the doors and the wedding coordinator was counting the seconds.

“can you run in that dress?” he asked, earning a confused expression from you.

“what are you talking about?” you felt someone tugging at the edges of your gown for what seemed like the millionth time today.

“kid, i’ve got my keys in my pocket and i parked in a handicap spot for your grandmother we could book it right now.”

“dad, no,” you shook your head quickly, linking your arms together tighter. “i’m doing this.”

“had to ask one last time because i love you not because i don’t like him.”

upon the right cue of music, the doors began opening, and it was officially time to tie the knot.

[ambitiouspotions]

i like your demanding style. it’s making me get a little teary eyed 😘

ARE YOU SURE? | MICHAEL BERZATTO

the minutes are ticking down to the moment you and mikey will say “i do.”

author’s note: a quick blurb because being engaged for the second time after my first shitty marriage has me in my feels.

taglist: @allinourprivate-traps , @empathyroad , @lets-turn-and-burn , @stefpink

natalie was straightening your veil and your sister was pulling at the bust of your dress. your hands were shaking as you tried to stabilize yourself on the back of the chair that had your bridal robe hanging on it. you were sucking in a deep breath as one of your friends tightened the back of your dress just a bit more because you previously stated that you felt like you were slipping out of it.

“you look so hot,” your friend said nodding her head as she looked at you in the mirror.

“she really does,” your sister agreed.

“mikey is lucky, like really lucky,” natalie chimed in as your hands ran over the front of your wedding gown.

you tilted your head, wondering how all the lead-up to this very day was completed. it felt like a battle to coordinate every piece of this wedding, including the fun parts.

“hey, you gotta breathe,” natalie reminded you, which made you exhale immediately. the hotness that rushed to your head was diminishing. “mikey’s going to kill me if you die before the wedding.”

your tears were threatening to fall because all the final touches were completed. your hair had never felt heavier with the multitude of pins and hairspray that pinned each strand in the correct place. your makeup was set in all of its glimmering glory. you looked gorgeous, and there was no denying it.

“no, no crying,” your sister squeaked, pulling a handkerchief off the hotel vanity and stuffing it in your hand.

“you can't ruin your makeup,” your friend put her head gently on your shoulder, a smile riddling her face as she hugged your waist. “it’s almost unfair how good you look don't try and make us look better by crying.”

a gaggle of laughs erupted as you fanned your face. you were settled to a gentle sniffle while still clutching your handkerchief.

a soft knock caught everyone’s attention.

“that’s gotta be the photographer,” you mumbled as everyone pulled away from you.

“we’ll see you again soon, go get him.” natalie encouraged, squeezing your hand one last time as you exited the hotel suite.

you were waiting behind a corner of the venue, anxiously awaiting mikey to be there as well. the shutter of the camera only increased more as he came closer. you linked hands, holding back all of your emotions as you blindly intertwined your fingers.

“hey, baby cakes.”

your grip wasn’t loosening because mikey’s voice and touch were both relaxing you, yet also making your chest feel so heavy. you and mikey had run yourselves thin accommodating to family and overworking yourselves—today was finally the day—no more worrisome months of planning and preparation. this day was going to be perfect because all you had to do now was take a couple of photos and walk down the aisle.

“hey,” you replied shakily, leaning your head back against the wall of the venue.

“you ready?” he asked, softly. he was staring at his feet despite the wall separating you and your groom.

“mhm.” the small response could barely be uttered because of your nervous excitement.

as mikey dropped your hand to turn around, you rounded the corner fully.

“holy shit,” he cursed, hardly lasting a second before he was holding the bridge of his nose as large tears rolled down his cheeks. “y-you look so fuckin’ pretty.”

you were trying to occupy yourself by dabbing only the corners of your eyes. it took a moment for him to embrace you because of how stunned he was at your appearance. he knew to expect a pretty white dress, but didn’t expect how gorgeous you truly looked while wearing it.

“didn’t think i’d be crying,” mikey murmured into your hair while his fingers fixated on the tule of your veil. “i’m such a dumbass,” he croaked while pulling you closer to his chest. “b-but you look so fuckin’ beautiful. i-i never thought i would deserve this—you—never thought i would ever deserve you, and n-now i’m standin’ here—” mikey could finish his heartwarming ramblings because of how choked up he was, but you understood everything he was trying to say.

you were playing with his tie, straightening the knot, and feeling the fabric of his suit jacket between your fingers. it was unreal standing before him as his bride, knowing you would be reciting vows to each other in just a couple of hours. your bottom lip was quivering, as you took his hand tightly in yours.

“i wouldn't want to do this with anyone else,” you whispered, looking up to meet his teary brown eyes. he was wearing such a genuinely soft expression—one that said more than his words. “i couldn't imagine having anyone else.”

“i’m always gonna be yours, baby cakes,” mikey assured you while sniffling. he wiped his eyes on the back of his wrist and soothed the small of your back. “no matter what.”

even with the photographer snapping photos, it was one of the more intimate moments of the day so far. you and mikey, respectively, had been getting prepared for the evening and tried to keep as much distance as possible despite being in such close proximity. it was the most pleasant moment to enjoy together. you each had the opportunity to let out a large initial gush of emotions before presenting yourselves to the crowd of family and friends.

inside the venue after the first look, everyone had taken their seats all bunched together to watch the highly anticipated berzatto wedding. the bridal party had walked perfectly on time and they were now only waiting for you.

mikey was awaiting the moment you would walk down the aisle to join him. he had practiced keeping his hands still for weeks in preparation, knowing he could never stop the nervous drumming of his fingers against the back of his clasped hand. at least he had broken the habit of rocking on his heels. he was now wondering how many people were staring at the anxious habit he had with his hands. it was a full venue with the seats all stacked, surprisingly quiet for the amount of berzattos on one side of the room.

“you sure about this, man?” richie whispered, leaning over to his best friend.

mikey blinked, snapping out of the deafening trance. “huh?”

“y’sure? i can get you outta here if you need me to,” richie repeated, gently patting mikey’s back as his eyes studied the room.

“rich, stop,” carmen warned. he leaned forward to better see his brother. “‘s gonna be fine, mike.”

mikey cleared his throat. “i know.” he stopped his incessant finger drumming to straighten up again. “i’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“thought i’d offer one last time,” richie shrugged, looking around. “think she’s gonna show?”

“what the fuck kinda question is that? i saw her a’hour and a half ago,” mikey looked over his shoulder to see a snickering richie who couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. carmen began shushing him, as more eyes from the crowd began wandering to the groom’s side.

“i’m kidding, just tryin’ to make you loosen up some,” richie chuckled.

donna was in the front row furrowing her eyebrows together, looking at carmen to decipher what all the whispering was about between her sons.

“you're makin’ me wanna vomit,” mikey retorted shrugging his shoulders back again.

“shut up, you're makin’ ma wanna leave,” carmen snipped, then looked back towards donna motioning with his hand to settle her down. she was uneasily adjusting in her chair causing lee to fish gum out of his suit jacket to pass to her.

richie couldn't help himself with his relentless teasing. he had never seen mikey so nervous in his entire life and his poor friend looked like his false sense of confidence was wearing off. it was the first time he had actually seen his friend look so vulnerable—especially over a girl.

“it was a joke, carm,” richie rolled his eyes as he looked back at the youngest berzatto sibling.

“you don't say shit like that at wedding,” carmen grumbled.

“both of you fuckin’ stop,” mikey interrupted, peering over his shoulder to quiet down the two behind him.

“i get fuckin’ weird at funerals and weddings—sorry.” richie apologized.

“you're always fuckin’ weird.” carmen was determined to speak the last word of the conversation.

“don't be a jagoff at your brother’s wedding, you fuckin’ baby.”

“holy fuckin’ shit,” mikey ran his hands down his face. “she really fuckin’ loves me if she puts up with all of my bullshit and all of yours.”

at the same moment the groomsmen were jabbering, your father’s arm was looped around yours waiting for the door to open at the right cue. your chest was pounding. the wedding march could be heard through the thick wood of the doors and the wedding coordinator was counting the seconds.

“can you run in that dress?” he asked, earning a confused expression from you.

“what are you talking about?” you felt someone tugging at the edges of your gown for what seemed like the millionth time today.

“kid, i’ve got my keys in my pocket and i parked in a handicap spot for your grandmother we could book it right now.”

“dad, no,” you shook your head quickly, linking your arms together tighter. “i’m doing this.”

“had to ask one last time because i love you not because i don’t like him.”

upon the right cue of music, the doors began opening, and it was officially time to tie the knot.

[ambitiouspotions]

ARE YOU SURE? | MICHAEL BERZATTO

the minutes are ticking down to the moment you and mikey will say “i do.”

author’s note: a quick blurb because being engaged for the second time after my first shitty marriage has me in my feels.

taglist: @allinourprivate-traps , @empathyroad , @lets-turn-and-burn , @stefpink

natalie was straightening your veil and your sister was pulling at the bust of your dress. your hands were shaking as you tried to stabilize yourself on the back of the chair that had your bridal robe hanging on it. you were sucking in a deep breath as one of your friends tightened the back of your dress just a bit more because you previously stated that you felt like you were slipping out of it.

“you look so hot,” your friend said nodding her head as she looked at you in the mirror.

“she really does,” your sister agreed.

“mikey is lucky, like really lucky,” natalie chimed in as your hands ran over the front of your wedding gown.

you tilted your head, wondering how all the lead-up to this very day was completed. it felt like a battle to coordinate every piece of this wedding, including the fun parts.

“hey, you gotta breathe,” natalie reminded you, which made you exhale immediately. the hotness that rushed to your head was diminishing. “mikey’s going to kill me if you die before the wedding.”

your tears were threatening to fall because all the final touches were completed. your hair had never felt heavier with the multitude of pins and hairspray that pinned each strand in the correct place. your makeup was set in all of its glimmering glory. you looked gorgeous, and there was no denying it.

“no, no crying,” your sister squeaked, pulling a handkerchief off the hotel vanity and stuffing it in your hand.

“you can't ruin your makeup,” your friend put her head gently on your shoulder, a smile riddling her face as she hugged your waist. “it’s almost unfair how good you look don't try and make us look better by crying.”

a gaggle of laughs erupted as you fanned your face. you were settled to a gentle sniffle while still clutching your handkerchief.

a soft knock caught everyone’s attention.

“that’s gotta be the photographer,” you mumbled as everyone pulled away from you.

“we’ll see you again soon, go get him.” natalie encouraged, squeezing your hand one last time as you exited the hotel suite.

you were waiting behind a corner of the venue, anxiously awaiting mikey to be there as well. the shutter of the camera only increased more as he came closer. you linked hands, holding back all of your emotions as you blindly intertwined your fingers.

“hey, baby cakes.”

your grip wasn’t loosening because mikey’s voice and touch were both relaxing you, yet also making your chest feel so heavy. you and mikey had run yourselves thin accommodating to family and overworking yourselves—today was finally the day—no more worrisome months of planning and preparation. this day was going to be perfect because all you had to do now was take a couple of photos and walk down the aisle.

“hey,” you replied shakily, leaning your head back against the wall of the venue.

“you ready?” he asked, softly. he was staring at his feet despite the wall separating you and your groom.

“mhm.” the small response could barely be uttered because of your nervous excitement.

as mikey dropped your hand to turn around, you rounded the corner fully.

“holy shit,” he cursed, hardly lasting a second before he was holding the bridge of his nose as large tears rolled down his cheeks. “y-you look so fuckin’ pretty.”

you were trying to occupy yourself by dabbing only the corners of your eyes. it took a moment for him to embrace you because of how stunned he was at your appearance. he knew to expect a pretty white dress, but didn’t expect how gorgeous you truly looked while wearing it.

“didn’t think i’d be crying,” mikey murmured into your hair while his fingers fixated on the tule of your veil. “i’m such a dumbass,” he croaked while pulling you closer to his chest. “b-but you look so fuckin’ beautiful. i-i never thought i would deserve this—you—never thought i would ever deserve you, and n-now i’m standin’ here—” mikey could finish his heartwarming ramblings because of how choked up he was, but you understood everything he was trying to say.

you were playing with his tie, straightening the knot, and feeling the fabric of his suit jacket between your fingers. it was unreal standing before him as his bride, knowing you would be reciting vows to each other in just a couple of hours. your bottom lip was quivering, as you took his hand tightly in yours.

“i wouldn't want to do this with anyone else,” you whispered, looking up to meet his teary brown eyes. he was wearing such a genuinely soft expression—one that said more than his words. “i couldn't imagine having anyone else.”

“i’m always gonna be yours, baby cakes,” mikey assured you while sniffling. he wiped his eyes on the back of his wrist and soothed the small of your back. “no matter what.”

even with the photographer snapping photos, it was one of the more intimate moments of the day so far. you and mikey, respectively, had been getting prepared for the evening and tried to keep as much distance as possible despite being in such close proximity. it was the most pleasant moment to enjoy together. you each had the opportunity to let out a large initial gush of emotions before presenting yourselves to the crowd of family and friends.

inside the venue after the first look, everyone had taken their seats all bunched together to watch the highly anticipated berzatto wedding. the bridal party had walked perfectly on time and they were now only waiting for you.

mikey was awaiting the moment you would walk down the aisle to join him. he had practiced keeping his hands still for weeks in preparation, knowing he could never stop the nervous drumming of his fingers against the back of his clasped hand. at least he had broken the habit of rocking on his heels. he was now wondering how many people were staring at the anxious habit he had with his hands. it was a full venue with the seats all stacked, surprisingly quiet for the amount of berzattos on one side of the room.

“you sure about this, man?” richie whispered, leaning over to his best friend.

mikey blinked, snapping out of the deafening trance. “huh?”

“y’sure? i can get you outta here if you need me to,” richie repeated, gently patting mikey’s back as his eyes studied the room.

“rich, stop,” carmen warned. he leaned forward to better see his brother. “‘s gonna be fine, mike.”

mikey cleared his throat. “i know.” he stopped his incessant finger drumming to straighten up again. “i’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“thought i’d offer one last time,” richie shrugged, looking around. “think she’s gonna show?”

“what the fuck kinda question is that? i saw her a’hour and a half ago,” mikey looked over his shoulder to see a snickering richie who couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. carmen began shushing him, as more eyes from the crowd began wandering to the groom’s side.

“i’m kidding, just tryin’ to make you loosen up some,” richie chuckled.

donna was in the front row furrowing her eyebrows together, looking at carmen to decipher what all the whispering was about between her sons.

“you're makin’ me wanna vomit,” mikey retorted shrugging his shoulders back again.

“shut up, you're makin’ ma wanna leave,” carmen snipped, then looked back towards donna motioning with his hand to settle her down. she was uneasily adjusting in her chair causing lee to fish gum out of his suit jacket to pass to her.

richie couldn't help himself with his relentless teasing. he had never seen mikey so nervous in his entire life and his poor friend looked like his false sense of confidence was wearing off. it was the first time he had actually seen his friend look so vulnerable—especially over a girl.

“it was a joke, carm,” richie rolled his eyes as he looked back at the youngest berzatto sibling.

“you don't say shit like that at wedding,” carmen grumbled.

“both of you fuckin’ stop,” mikey interrupted, peering over his shoulder to quiet down the two behind him.

“i get fuckin’ weird at funerals and weddings—sorry.” richie apologized.

“you're always fuckin’ weird.” carmen was determined to speak the last word of the conversation.

“don't be a jagoff at your brother’s wedding, you fuckin’ baby.”

“holy fuckin’ shit,” mikey ran his hands down his face. “she really fuckin’ loves me if she puts up with all of my bullshit and all of yours.”

at the same moment the groomsmen were jabbering, your father’s arm was looped around yours waiting for the door to open at the right cue. your chest was pounding. the wedding march could be heard through the thick wood of the doors and the wedding coordinator was counting the seconds.

“can you run in that dress?” he asked, earning a confused expression from you.

“what are you talking about?” you felt someone tugging at the edges of your gown for what seemed like the millionth time today.

“kid, i’ve got my keys in my pocket and i parked in a handicap spot for your grandmother we could book it right now.”

“dad, no,” you shook your head quickly, linking your arms together tighter. “i’m doing this.”

“had to ask one last time because i love you not because i don’t like him.”

upon the right cue of music, the doors began opening, and it was officially time to tie the knot.

[ambitiouspotions]

my friend’s dad is upset i got engaged because he didn't have a chance with me