#god i forgot how mad student loans make me

[cappurrccino]

nothing makes me want to start a riot quite like doing student loan exit counseling and seeing all the different ways they're going to fuck me over because i can't immediately repay all $12k the exact instant i'm no longer in school

[skzsauce01]

The Student Council President Reads Shoujo Manga?!

Synopsis: You discover that the student council president, who claims to hate romance, reads shoujo manga. Slight influence from Kaguya-Sama: Love Is War.

Warning: none

Word Count: 4.2k

Pairing: fem student council vice president!reader x student council president!Hyunjin

After forgetting your textbook in the classroom, you expect to be the last person to arrive to the student council room, but it appears that you’re actually the second.

“Vice President, you left your manga here last night,” Secretary Kim greets. He glances at you momentarily before returning to his paperwork.

You shut the door behind you. “My manga? I don’t remember— Oh.”

Sitting on the mahogany desk is a tote bag that you recognize is the president’s. You loaned President Hwang the first five volumes of The Life of A Dragon and Its Rider two weeks ago. When you peer inside the bag, you find that he forgot to take off his manga protectors. You keep telling him that he doesn’t need to take such a precaution since you trust him, but he always does so anyway. Even your old battered copies are wrapped in plastic.

You take the topmost one and hold it to the light streaming through the window. Not even the outline of the title can be seen. You voiced your confusion at his choice of using opaque protectors before; how would he be able to differentiate between different volumes or different mangas? His answer made you laugh: it was how he got away with reading during class. The image of the student council president doing such an illicit thing seemed ridiculous, and he pushed his hair back in embarrassment as he recounted the time the teacher almost caught him. Then you stopped laughing and wondered what the symptoms of a heart attack were. Your rib cage felt like it was going to smash open.

Now as you peel off the protector, the same feeling returns. The corner of Dragon Rider is blue and purple, not dark red. Did he spill something? No, none of the pages are wrinkled with water damage, and he would never be so careless so what exactly—

“Oh my goodness!”

Secretary Kim, pen twirling in his hand, looks at you curiously. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, yes!” you squeak out, hiding out the manga behind your back. “I just… I just… it’s nothing! Everything is okay!”

“Alright then.”

While he goes back to his papers, you hurriedly turn around and check the book. It’s the same as it was a few seconds ago. Instead of a fearsome dragon and its hardworking rider on the cover, there is a teenage girl flanked by two boys with wolf ears. The title reads Tsukiko of the Wolves. You flip through, discovering with both amusement and disbelief that it’s a shoujo manga. There is nothing wrong with reading shoujo — you’ve read a fair share yourself when you were younger — but President Hwang is the least likely person you would expect to have a secret love for them. You regularly loan him your shounens to read, and he eagerly discusses each volume with you. He frequently complains about the romance, saying he’s reading it for the adventure, not for the love triangles.

This has to be a mistake. He has a younger sister who you’ve seen at the bookstore occasionally. It’s possible that they share a bookshelf and that he accidentally grabbed hers on accident. You put the protector back on, set it aside, and reach for the next book on the stack.

You have no real idea if it’s another shoujo or not, but NecRomancer sounds like one. The summary on the back describes a girl panicking about her newfound powers of resurrection and the attractive man she just brought back to life. You open to the middle of the manga and let out a squeak when you see the naked corpse on the page. It’s just another accident, it has to be. President Hwang is close with his sister, so it’s only natural that his manga would be close to hers. You try the next book in the stack, hoping that it’s one of yours.

The corner reveals a dark red cover, and you hold your breath, keeping an eye on Secretary Kim. He is still preoccupied with his work, muttering sentences and scribbling things down. You fully peel back the protector, and Why Do I Not Remember You? is written across the cover in glitter. Could this be his sister’s bag? No, she doesn’t use protectors.

You mindlessly thumb through the pages, seeing but not really seeing the crying woman being comforted by a stranger. Then at the flashbacks of broken beer bottles and a ring. The chances of this being a mistake are lessening. Once is a coincidence, twice is a coincidence, and three times is a pattern. Does this mean that…

The student council president reads shoujo manga?

You quickly replace the protector. Your heart pounds, and possibilities swim in front of you. At the very best, he will be mortified if he knows that you found out. At the very worst, the entire school will find out. President Hwang’s reputation will be tainted, and with the upcoming reelections, his reputation is of the utmost importance. If he’s not president, you might still be vice president, but what’s the point then? It’ll be no fun without him.

No one can find out about this.

Suddenly the double doors to the student council room burst open, and you drop Why Do I Not Remember You? onto the desk. President Hwang slouches in the doorframe, resting his hands on the handles, completely out of breath. A Blueprint Books bag hangs in his grasp. That must be the one containing your manga.

He looks up from the floor, and you realize you are directly in his line of sight. Your hands fly to the ribbon around your neck, and you begin to untie and retie it.

“President, are you alright?” you distantly hear Secretary Kim ask. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I’m alright.” President Hwang’s voice comes out strained as he notices you standing behind his desk, three books out in the open. “Vice President, I see you discovered the manga as expected.”

“I was just counting to make sure I got all five back,” you reply with a fake smile. He can’t know that you know because he will never speak to you again out of embarrassment. “You left the protectors on, by the way.”

He walks toward you. You are the perfect picture of innocence. He will not know. “Did you… check them?”

“No, I was in the middle of counting them. Why?”

“It’s nothing,” he says, but you can hear the relief. “I left the wrong bag for you last night. Working late must be getting to me, haha. Here you go. The Life of A Dragon and Its Rider.”

You peek inside, and sure enough, the volumes are there with no opaque protector to obscure the title on the spine. You clutch the bag in front of you like you can use it to hide the truth you have just uncovered. President Hwang stacks his shoujo manga back into his bag and tucks it underneath the desk. His face has gone pink, and he fans himself with the latest edition of the school newspaper.

“What did you think of it?” you ask to distract him. “Isn’t the artwork amazing?”

Mission successful. President Hwang’s eyes go glassy as he recalls the story in his head, and he stops his fanning. “It is. And the worldbuilding too! The academy is so different from the usual school settings, and the dragon breeds are so cool. Also, Hirajima is such a tsundere. He’s going to end up falling in love with Kimi, isn’t he? Ugh.”

“I won’t spoil it for you,” you cryptically reply. The president is holding tightly onto his facade, which you need him to do. “I’ll lend you the next five volumes tomorrow. Just wait until you get to the tournament arc. You’re going to love it.”

He groans and leans back into his chair. “Was that sarcasm?”

“No! Tournament arc is always the best arc! That’s why Feast of the Gods is so popular. Every arc is pretty much a tournament arc.”

President Hwang lights up even more at the mention of the fantasy cooking-themed manga. He borrowed it from you last month and loved it so much that he bought matching keychains for the entire council. “Secretary Kim is the bird's milk, Treasurer Lee is the silkworm flour, you’re the delphinium rose syrup, and I’m the volcanic pepper,” he explained.

“Why are you the pepper?” Treasurer Lee complained. “You can’t even handle spice.”

“Because I’m hot.”

While both the secretary and treasurer cackled and while the president grew increasingly embarrassed by his own claims, you did your best to focus on your new keychain and not him. He looked too attractive loosening his tie and running his fingers through his hair. He looked like a manga character come to life.

President Hwang’s comment snaps you out of your daydream. “The ending is good! I can’t believe that Ryuzaki actually—”

“Shouldn’t you two be working?” interrupts Secretary Kim’s flat voice. He peers at the two of you over his glasses and flicks his eyes towards the suggestion box he must have brought in earlier. “Especially with reelections coming up soon.”

“We’ll talk later,” President Hwang whispers to you. “I want to discuss my theory about Kimi and Bando with you.”

“Yeah, of course. Let’s go through the suggestions now before Secretary Kim gets mad.”

You walk over to the door and grab the suggestion box. It’s heavier than expected, and you hold it flush against your chest to keep it from slipping out of your grasp. President Hwang notices your struggling and meets you halfway. He nearly makes you drop it as his fingers brush yours while he takes it from you.

“Thanks,” you stammer out. Your hands are empty, so you toy with your ribbon again as you follow him back to the desk.

“No problem,” he says. He lifts open the lid and takes out the first paper on top. “Shin Ryujin is asking for more funding for the Tennis Club again. Speaking of tennis, have you seen the animations for Bleeding Heart? It’s so good.”

Though Bleeding Heart starts off like a shoujo, it devolves into a mystery. If it weren’t for the knowledge you have now, you would have teased President Hwang for watching it. Instead, you enthusiastically nod. “They play croquet, not tennis, but yes! They’re so smooth!”

“President, Vice President.”

You and President Hwang exchange sheepish smiles. He softly sighs and scans through the paper, playing with a lock of hair. You imagine him doing the same as he reads. Why is the image of him secretly reading shoujo manga so charming? You shouldn’t find it so when he has this much at stake. He needs to be reelected.

“What do you think?” he asks, pointing at a proposal that you should have been reading with him, interrupting your thoughts. He edges closer to you, and breathing is suddenly difficult. He smells like laundry detergent. “Are new uniforms justifiable?”

“Yes, I think so,” you choke out. “Excuse me for a minute.”

You practically run out of the student council room, stopping only when you reach a small alcove in the hall. It’s dim and quiet, and you can hear your heart trying to break out. You press your hand over it, trying to push it back inside. Heart attacks don’t feel like this, or so says the medical website you consulted. Your heart thunders against your wrist, and its beat perfectly matches your pulse.

Steady.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It eventually slows, and you return back to the room with more composure than you had earlier. Treasurer Lee has finally shown up, and you decide to help him with calculations instead of reviewing proposals with President Hwang. It’s better this way.

During the weekend, you head to Blueprint Books and wander down the aisles, trying to find the manga President Hwang reads. You know what he likes for shounens, so what is it for shoujos? You mindlessly swing your tote bag back and forth as you scan the shelves. He Doesn’t Know My Secret, Steampunked!, Squirrel Princess. It’s been some time since you visited this section of the store. As you look to the next shelf, you notice a familiar keychain hanging from someone’s pocket. When you do a double-take, to your surprise and horror, President Hwang is standing at the end of the aisle. He looks different when out of uniform. Good different.

Maybe you made a noise of some sort because before you can turn around and leave, he glances up from the book he holds. His eyes meet yours.

Disbelief. Confusion. Panic.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he shakily asks as he slides the manga back into place. He’s mostly calm, that’s good. If he can lie to you about it, surely the entire school will be a simple feat. “Is there a new release?”

You shake your head. “Just browsing. Are you buying something for your sister? I know you don’t like romance that much.”

The relief in his voice is palpable when he says, “Yeah. Do you have any recommendations?”

“What does she like?”

“What do you like? You read a lot of manga.”

The question makes you pause, and you recount all the conversations you’ve overheard during lunch. Shounens are more of your thing now, but you're not above shoujos. “I’ve heard good things about Best Friend Boyfriend and I Wouldn’t Change A Thing.”

“Have you read them?”

“Not yet, but I always hear people talking about them.” You shift from foot to foot. A change of subject is much needed. “How’s the campaign going?”

“It’s going well, I think. Yeji and her friends are asking everyone in their year to vote for me, so that’s cool. The Japanese Culture Club is apparently doing the same,” he answers. He thumbs his pepper keychain, and you instinctively reach for your complementing one. The tiny syrup bottle is cool on your skin. “What about you? You’re still going to be my vice president, right?”

‘My’ makes you warm. “Of course! Just worry about yourself. Han Jisung really wants your spot.”

“I’m not letting that happen. Trust me, on Friday, the principal’s going to announce me as president again. And you’re going to be vice president. Secretary Kim and Treasurer Lee are going to be there as well. We’re going to be the student council until graduation.”

He says it with so much determination, you can’t help but laugh. “I really hope so. Hey, I’ll bring you the next five volumes of Dragon Rider on Monday. Just give me six through ten whenever you’re done.”

“Thanks. Do you want to borrow one of—”

“There you are!” President Hwang’s younger sister bounds into the aisle with a shopping basket filled with stationery. She furrows her eyebrows when she notices exactly which aisle her brother is in. “Don’t you have enough al—”

“I’m going to be late for dinner!” you interject. You step backwards, nearly bumping into the cardboard cutout of a manga character. “See you in class, President. Have a nice day. Bye.”

As you speed walk in the opposite direction, you hear his sister quietly ask him, “Wait, was that the vice president?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry.”

You don’t hear if President Hwang replies anything because once you’ve turned the corner, you sprint out of the bookstore. It’s not until you’re home that you realize that you never found out what kind of shoujos he enjoys.

The days leading up to Friday are fraught with worry. Han Jisung is campaigning hard for the position this year. His small band of dedicated followers pass out flyers at the school gate every morning and trade lollipops for votes. Despite that, the president is unbothered.

“Did you watch the new episode of 00 Daniel?” he asks you on Wednesday.

You place your shoes inside your locker and shut the door. “Today’s the last day of voting, and you’re concerned about that?”

“I think the mission’s going to go badly this time. It’s been like five missions since his last screw up,” he continues like you said nothing. “There’s no way the season is ending without setting up for the next one.”

“President.”

“He’s not going to win, I promise. Treasurer Lee took a survey a few days ago, and I’m in the lead. The Mathematics Club’s survey confirmed the same thing.”

You start heading to your class with a resigned sigh, and President Hwang follows you even though he’s in a different room. He tugs on the sleeve of your blazer.

“You have nothing to worry about, Vice President,” he reassures. He lowers his head down to meet you at eye level. “It’s you and me until graduation, okay?”

You quickly nod and try not to burst into flames right on the spot. He’s too close yet not close enough.

“I think you’re right about 00 Daniel,” you stutter. “They’re taking too long to find the target too. I’ll see you after school then. Class is going to start soon.”

He retracts himself, a bit disappointed that you don’t want to speculate now. “Okay, we can talk later. See you.”

“See you.”

You two head to your respective classrooms. As you slide into your chair, you notice the boy next to you has a red candy wrapper on his desk. The girl in front of him has a purple one.

You really hope the Mathematics Club is right.

When Friday arrives, your stomach is in knots, and you feel ready to pass out at a moment’s notice. The traffic lights are slow today, making your usual stroll to school longer than usual. Students your age all the way down to elementary, pass you by, laughing and chatting with their friends. How can they be so relaxed when the results of the election come out this morning? You bet the paper announcement is already tacked to the bulletin board at the front of the school.

“Good morning,” comes a familiar voice.

“Good morning,” you reply back. President Hwang easily falls into step with you and holds out a tote bag to you. “Oh, you finished all of them?”

“Yeah. That last battle was crazy! I can’t believe it ended like that. And the epilogue! I knew it would happen! I feel so bad for Bando and… You okay? You look a little sick.”

“It’s nothing.” You take the bag from him and hold the books to your chest. You peek inside to make sure the protectors are off and to check that he gave you the right bag. No shoujo manga this time. “Are you nervous?”

He’s surprisingly apprehensive when he asks, “About what?”

“The election?”

“Oh. No, not really. Are you?”

“A little bit,” you lie as the two of you walk through the gate. The bulletin board is surrounded by a crowd, and you’re ready to march through to see what the paper says. Please let President Hwang be on there. “Let’s go.”

But the president is soon stopped by Han Jisung and his followers. Han Jisung holds his hand out, and you hold your breath as he opens his mouth.

“Congratulations on winning, President,” he says with a good-natured smile. He shifts his gaze to you. “And you as well, Vice President.”

You let out an audible sigh and quickly cover it with a cough when everyone looks at you. “Thank you.”

President Hwang shoots you a knowing grin, making you blush, before exchanging pleasantries with his defeated opponent. In the meantime, you push through the crowd to double-check the results. There it is in black ink: Hwang Hyunjin as President. Relief floods through your body, and you happily accept the other students’ congratulations and swap theories about the upcoming season of 00 Daniel with your fellow manga and anime fans.

“Told you,” President Hwang later says after he manages to get away from Han Jisung. He shuts your locker door with one finger. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Hey, are you going home now?” President Hwang asks. With no changes in the student council, everything is business as usual, including Secretary Kim and Treasurer Lee leaving as soon as they can on Fridays.

“Yeah. Are you staying late again?”

“Not today. Want to walk home together?”

“S-sure.”

While he reorganizes the papers on his desk, you fiddle with the strap of the tote bag. It’s not the first time you’ve walked home with the president, but it sends you into a panic every time. The golden sun and orange sky makes everyone look beautiful but him especially so. It’s difficult not to be tongue tied around him when he looks exactly like the lead of a shoujo manga.

Manga. The thing that accelerated your feelings for him in the first place. His good looks and his sweet talking charm were enough for you to notice him, so learning he shared the same hobby as you? Discovering that he adored coming up with theories?

You were smitten.

“You ready?” he interrupts.

“Yeah.”

The two of you make it to the front entrance before he stops and turns to you. “Actually, before we go, can I show you something first? It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Sure. What is it?” You follow him through the school, taking note that he seems to be headed to the courtyard.

“Have you read Limitless?”

As you step over a pile of fallen cherry blossoms, you rack your brain. You read it a long time ago, mostly because it was on every recommendation list online. “The shoujo about the math tutors? It’s been some time, but yes. What about it?”

President Hwang stops in the middle of the courtyard and faces you again. The sun is behind him, the rays of light forming a crown on his head. “Well, there’s a scene near the end that I thought you might like.”

The end of Limitless…

… features a confession scene in the school courtyard.

He gently takes your hands. “Do you remember the first day we were elected? I was the first person in the room, and I was so nervous to meet you because I didn’t know that much about you. Secretary Kim and Treasurer Lee said you were really kind, but I was still nervous. Then you ran into the room with a bunch of manga and almost tripped over the rug. You laughed it off and held out a book for me to shake since your hands were full.”

“It was the first volume of Feast of the Gods,” you whisper. That day is burned in your mind. “Lee Chaeryeong just finished the first ten volumes and gave them back to me.”

“And then I asked you if I could borrow them because I wanted to read them but Blueprint was out of stock. You said yes immediately, and that’s when I knew that you and I would be a great team. When you wanted to listen to me talk about the chapters I read, that’s when I knew I liked you. And when you continued to offer me other series to borrow, that’s when I knew I had to tell you. So,” he breathes, “here it is. I like you, and I want to be with you.”

“I… I like you too.”

He breaks out into a grin and wraps you in a hug. He still smells like laundry detergent, and you bury your nose in the collar of his shirt.

“What do we do now?” he softly laughs as he pulls away. “The shoujo mangas usually stop here and cut to a new scene.”

The words fly out of your mouth without thinking. “So is that why you’ve been reading shoujos? For the confession?”

His smile falters but recovers soon after. “Yeji gave it away last weekend, huh? Ah, I was hoping you hadn’t heard her.”

“Actually… I found out when you gave me back Dragon Rider the first time,” you admit. You twirl the ends of the ribbon around your neck. “I took off the protectors and saw some of them. But there’s nothing wrong with liking shoujo! I was just surprised since you always say you hate romance.”

“I mean, I did. I started reading them for confession tips, but then it turns out some of them are really good. Like Limitless? And then I started reading my sister’s, and I kind of like them now. Is that weird?”

“No. Honestly, it’s kind of cute.”

“Really? You’re not weirded out by that?”

“Not even a little bit. I don’t care what you read as long as you’ll talk to me about it after.”

“Well, I finished Winter Fireworks recently. Have you read it before?” When you shake your head, he takes a step closer and leans down. “It ends like this.”

As it turns out, the story ends with a kiss.

~ ad.gray

None of the mangas/animes mentioned actually exist. They’re just riffs of other fics we’ve written. Was this just a giant ad for them? Yeah, kind of lol. In order of appearance:

The Life of A Dragon and Its Rider ➞ Normal (Hyunjin)

Tsukiko of the Wolves ➞ 42nd Moon (Hyunjin)

NecRomancer ➞ Magic Words (Hyunjin) 

Why Do I Not Remember You? ➞ Eternally Yours (Hyunjin)

Feast of the Gods ➞ God’s Menu (Felix)

Bleeding Heart ➞ King of Hearts (Bang Chan)

He Doesn’t Know My Secret ➞ Harmony, Melody (Seungmin)

Steampunked! ➞ Matters of the Head and Heart (Felix)

Squirrel Princess ➞ Squirrel and Wife (Han)

Best Friend Boyfriend ➞ Ruin My Life (Lee Know)

I Wouldn’t Change A Thing ➞ Even if Things Were Different (Han)

00 Daniel ➞ Apologies in Advance (Lee Know)

Limitless ➞ love you to limx (Han)

Winter Fireworks ➞ Ringing in the New Year (Bang Chan)

bonus after credits scene

It’s only when the two of you are crossing the bridge do you realize what he has done. “You just spoiled the ending for me!”

“Sorry, I forgot.” After a few seconds, he asks, “Can I give you more spoilers?”

You reach for the front of his blazer. “Yes.”

[annawoodhull]

bring good news of a world so newly born

Requested by: me and my self-indulgent need for Ben and grilled cheese

Word Count: 1616

Prompt: Outlander AU in which Abigail introduces Ben to grilled cheese. That's the fic.

(Song title from '39 by Queen because I'm trash.)

There were a few inconveniences of being a woman from the future who now lived in late 18th century America. No air conditioning, no ibuprofen, but worst of all, no snacks. Late night runs to the convenience store a few blocks from her apartment with friends were the epitome of any college girl’s life, especially during finals time. And now she didn’t even have that!

But there was one thing she refused to give up (besides her bra if she could help it) was her favorite foods. By God, if she could find ways to modify them to make them work with what this time presented to her, she was bound and determined. The first attempt at this would be grilled cheese. If this went well, maybe she could attempt pizza.

Thankfully, she was able to purchase a loaf of bread and cheese from a few merchants in the town, but the butter was more difficult to come by. She had to resort to the old fashioned way, directly from the cow herself. Going through the process of letting the milk rest and then skimming the creak, or whatever the fuck it was called, off the top before she could churn it with a dasher. It was incredibly labor intensive and more work than she had expected, but again, her stubborn Irish ass was going to see this through.

She hadn’t intended to inform Ben of her little project until later on in the week, when they had agreed to meet. Between his battles both on and off the field, a lot of the major’s time was accounted for. She still insisted she would make a good asset to the Culper Ring, but he stubbornly refused to allow it. She suspected she knew the reason, but honestly thought it was ridiculous. You’d think you’d want a spy on your side who already knows how everything will play out.

Anyway, Abigail was sitting on the porch of her small cabin – abandoned by some previous squatter dweller type – and working on churning the butter. Her sleeves were rolled up and beads of perspiration rolled down the sides of her neck, trickling down the front of her bodice. She wrinkled her nose but kept on going. Sheesh, this was labor intensive as fuck. Twenty-first century people really had it made, though there were the Amish to consider.

Too busy plunging the dasher up and down while churning the butter, Abigail was too preoccupied to pay any attention her surroundings. By the time she heard a horse’s snort, she looked up and was pleasantly surprised to see Ben dismounting and leading the beautiful Gaius over towards a paddock to graze.

Then he turned around and took one look at her, a good long look that made Abigail flush from head to toe. She didn’t have to look in a mirror to know she looked like a train wreck, blonde hair all askew, face flushed and damped with sweat. She’d stopped her churning the moment she saw him and nearly forgot all about it when he approached her.

“Never pegged you for the type for churning butter,” Ben observed with a amused grin, “though I’m not surprised you’d be stubborn enough to try.”

She grinned. “There is a reason to my madness, Tallmadge.” She went to wipe her forehead when she remembered she couldn’t let the butter rest. With a tiny grunt, she resumed her work, working the dasher up and down in a gradual rhythm. Hey, she was starting to get the hang of this! “I’m cooking for us tonight and then forgot I couldn’t just buy everything in one place, like I used to.”

“You must be rich, from where you come from,” he commented.

Abigail laughed at that, thinking of all the student loan debt she had accumulated with both her bachelors and graduate degrees. On second thought, maybe it was a good thing she fell through the stones when she did. “Hardly. But it was convenient, so I wouldn’t have to resort to this.”

Ben’s gaze flickered between her face and to her hands, observing as she worked it rather well. Her hands twisting with purposeful intent, with increasing speed. It reminded him of something Caleb had often teased him about, something he hadn’t done in quite some time. And now that he had this visual in front of him…

Abigail glanced up, having no idea where his line of thought had taken him, and found that his face was now just as red as the coat of a British officer. “Are you all right?” she asked, confused and mildly concerned.

Clearing his throat, Ben shifted his position, angling himself so that he was now facing partially away from her. Odd. “Yes, just a bit… flushed from the journey. Could use some water, perhaps.”

Abigail nodded, understanding. “I just made a few bottles from the creek. Help yourself and cool down.”

He thanked her and practically took off like a bat out of hell into the cabin. Abigail continuing churning, increasing the pace. He was an odd duck, that one. A very attractive and delicious looking one but odd nevertheless.

It took quite a while to achieve the finished product, but with Ben’s company, from a suspicious far distance, the time just flew by. She carried her butter inside, grinning in triumph at her accomplishment and held it out proudly for him to inspect. He nodded his approval with no small amount of affection, which made her feel even more accomplished.

“So what are you preparing for us this evening?” he asked, “since you went to all the trouble churning butter.”

“Nothing terribly fancy I’m afraid, at least from my time,” Abigail admitted, “but in my opinion, it’s one of the finest delicacies in the world. A grilled cheese.”

Brows furrowed, Ben titled his head, much like a confused puppy. “A… what?”

“Trust me, you’ll like it,” she promised. She went to work on working the hearth, which Ben had to assist her with at several points. While he helped, she told him all about stoves and the different kinds that ran on gas versus electricity, both of which mystified and fascinated him. The more time she spent in that time and with him specifically, the more comfortable she felt sharing different tidbits of the future. The very knowledge there was a future for the country that he was fighting for was enough to give him hope. The thought of being the source, or at least associated with the source, of his inspiration made her feel things she had no right to be feeling.

Yet, she was completely and hopelessly attracted to the him.

Once everything was settled, she went to work on slicing the bread and cheese, which she set on separate plates. Then she buttered the bread generously on each slice before setting the buttered side down in the skillet, quickly followed by the cheese and the other slice of bread. She brought the skillet over the makeshift grilled and watched with amazement as the fire worked its magic.

It didn’t take too long before she flipped it over. A few minutes of cooking on the other side, she pulled back the skillet carefully and plated his grilled cheese before working on hers. It was a little tricky getting the sandwiches out of the skillet, but she had to admit, they didn’t turn out half bad.

“Do you want yours cut in half or diagonally?” she asked, right after she performed an elegant diagonal slice for hers.

“However you cut yours is fine with me,” he said. He had risen from his seat to poke around her, curious to see her creation and drawn to the wonderful mixture of grilled cheese, butter, and crispy goodness.

When done, she handed him his plate but warned him, “Be careful. It’s hot.” His soft, amused smile at the domestic remark caused her heart to skip a beat.

They sat together at the small wooden table, and after a few minutes, they dug into their meal, though Abigail waited a bit so she could take in his reaction. After his first bite, Ben’s eyes widened before closing with surprised delight. He moaned appreciatively. “Oh, this is very good.”

“Really?” she asked happily.

Nodding eagerly, he took to consuming the slice with an almost single-minded determination. He hesitated on picking up the second slice, perhaps figuring he should make it last. She grinned at his sudden look of sheepishness. “Thank you for sharing this with me. Believe me, after a few months of camp rations, this is just…” he sighed with pleasure.

Abigail grinned. “I’m glad you like it. Grilled cheese can cure anything. It’s the American dream, baby.”

“Is all of your food in the future this good?” Ben asked, enchanted by the mere thought.

“Depends on where you’re looking, but for the most part, yes,” she said. Spotting a bit of crumbs and cheese on the side of his mouth, she smothered a giggle. She touched her own face. “You’ve got a little…”

“Where?” he asked, immediately touching anywhere on his face but the area where she pointed.

Rolling her eyes in feigned exasperation, she leaned over the table and brushed it away herself, her thumb gently pressed against the corner of his mouth. His gaze locked onto hers at the touch, the sudden proximity. He inhaled sharply. Abigail swallowed nervously. The cabin, which was already quite small, felt even smaller, more intimate.

“We should…” he murmured, trailing off.

She blinked slowly. “Finish our dinner?”

After a beat, Ben nodded. “I… yes. Dinner.”

Who knew that all the trouble to make grilled cheese could cause even more trouble?

[devourer--of--books]

if you’re not the bride (deluxe version)

So you may be wondering why is it you're seeing this. Hello, it is I again. If you're here, maybe you're familiar with the original "if you're not the bride', which I posted about three years ago. In case you're not, then, hello, welcome, when I was 15 I wrote a story under this same title. Then forgot all about it. But every so often someone would come across this story and I was reminded of its existence. Then, back in september 2019, I decided to read it again, correct some grammar and call it a day, you know, just so I could rest assured I hadn't written something horrible. Turns out, it got a bit out of hand and I decided to rewrite the whole thing. However, due to the fact that college is the worst, I never finished it and, well, forgot about it, again. Now, as quarantine came around, I found my rewrite from 6 months ago and since I got the time why not, right? This is now more than double the size of the original and has a lot more of backstory than intended. You can still find the original with some corrections here on AO3 and , and the cursed unedited version somewhere on tumblr for the sake of nostalgia. Warnings: There's cursing, some drinking and good old make outs. July 2020 edit: here I am, re-edting this thing again. This all said, welcome folks, to the deluxe version:

"You're going to what?!" Agatha raised her voice, tightly holding her phone to her ear. Surely, she must have heard Sophie wrong. Her friend did have a reputation for being over the top, but this was beyond absurd.

When people said that being friends with Sophie was…an exotic experience, they weren't completely wrong, per say. Being friends with Sophie could be a lot like being friends with a hungry animal. She was ruthless, dangerous and not trustworthy about 60% of the time. Sophie would do most anything to get whatever she wanted and absolutely would step over you in the process (sometimes for no reason other than because it amused her to do so). It wasn't personal, mostly. It was simply her nature.

For her, there were two kinds of people: her friends and her enemies. It was very easy to go from one category to another and anything in between simply couldn't be processed by her brain.

Sophie was a difficult person.

Agatha could tell you in more detail, she would know. Being Sophie's best friend wasn't exactly a dream come true. It had its perks of course, and when all was said and done, Sophie was an okay-ish person and a mostly good friend, but you gotta give it up to Agatha; it was no task for the weak-hearted.

They had been friends since kindergarten and were as different from one another as it gets. Had they met later in life, Agatha is certain they would've never become friends at all. Sophie was a loud, gorgeous (and kinda mean) blonde bombshell and Agatha was a grumpy, average-looking mostly nice girl (she wouldn't call herself kind, really, her niceness was more of a subproduct of her aloofness than anything else). The two of them disagreed in most anything and had not that much in common. Yet, it somehow worked. They argued a lot, as in, a lot, but it was always fixed within a weeks' time, in a coffee shop, over a good old vanilla latte and some black tea.

An odd pair, to say the least.

Which was fine by them. Sophie… was a work in progress. She was trying.

Nevertheless, every once in a while, something like this would happen. Because Sophie was still Sophie and her head worked in mysterious ways.

"I'm getting married, Aggie," Agatha could practically hear the blonde rolling her eyes on the other side of the device, "people do that all the time. It's, like, a thing."

"Sophie, you're not even done with college yet! Getting married with what money? As far as I know, your modeling barely pays your rent and don't even get me started on your student loan and credit card debt! And getting married to whom? Last time I checked, you weren't even going out with anyone!" She tried to cool her head, catching her breath while trying to recall any possible groom Sophie could have taken. "Unless… Are you marring Hort?"

A disgusted groan was heard.

"Ew, no. Not Hort, for God's sake. What do you think I am? Desperate?"

A bit, but Agatha didn't dare say it out loud.

Hort was a guy who lived at the apartment just below Sophie's, in a tiny complex downtown. They've known each other for quite a long time now. It was practically common knowledge that Hort acquired the biggest crush on her the moment he first laid eyes on her. It was all the old ladies from 1A and 2C ever talked about.

Over the years, he became quite easy on the eyes, even Sophie had to admit it. No longer the scrawny awkward kid that helped Agatha drag Sophie's couch upstairs (while Sophie flirted with the trucker, trying to get free shipping for her mattress, which, by the way, she got), but a fully formed man, completely jacked, and with a growing bank account to match, due to his fitness-program-thingy taking off. Agatha didn't really know the details of that, but she knew it was going well, mostly because Sophie told her so.

Anyway, he claimed to not want anything to do with her friend nowdays.

Yeah, right.

Agatha felt bad for him, she really did.

Loving Sophie was like loving a hurricane. Violent, brutal and downright painful.

She had initially assumed it would go away with time, that he would eventually see that they weren't compatible and let it go.

However, it was a bit more complicated than that, as most things in life tend to be.

She knew he and Sophie had hooked up, in fact, she knew that they did so often. Sophie hadn't told her, but she didn't need to. Agatha knew. The aftermath was never good, and for the sake of keeping things short and lighthearted, Agatha shall spare you the angst and just say that, as mentioned above, Sophie was fantastic at getting whatever she wanted and disregarding other people's feelings.

Honestly, Hort could say he wasn't into Sophie all he liked. At the end of the day, he was still living at that shitty apartment (even though he could probably have moved somewhere better a long time ago), hadn't seriously dated anyone since meeting her and was responsible for at least half of Sophie's modeling gigs, which were her friend's main source of income. Agatha had warned him, several times, mind you, but all you can do is all you can do. The heart wants what it wants, she presumes.

"If not Hort, who then?"

"Oh, you don't know him yet," She could practically see Sophie twirling a golden lock on her fingers, a mischievous smirk on her face.

"Clearly," Agatha rolled her eyes and put her phone on speaker to be able to look around for her keys more comfortably. Reaper, her cat, had a bad habit of hiding them in the weirdest places. "Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone last time we went out for coffee?"

"Because I wasn't seeing anyone at the time," the blonde-haired woman sounded a bit annoyed, seemingly not understanding why Agatha was having such a hard time believing her ludicrous story.

"Sophie."

"Yes, Aggie?"

"That was literally three weeks ago."

"It's true love, Agatha. I can feel it. This is my real-life fairytale. I found the perfect guy for me. He's so different from anyone I've ever met…" Agatha tuned her out, finally realizing what was going on.

For Sophie, everyone she dates is her one true love. She was intense like that. There were lots of "perfect guys" on the list, too many, and eventually Agatha grew tired of counting them. Neither did she remember their names. Why bother, when Sophie would grow tired of them soon enough?

Her friend's drug of choice just so happened to be was serial dating with lots of love-bombing on the side.

Parents got divorced? Look at this cute basketball player that will probably cheat on me.

Bad day at a shoot? Oh, that barista is so sexy, bet he'll hook up with me anyway.

I have no idea where my career is going and hate my major? Why not call Hort up, right?

But getting actually married? That's new.

Agatha sighed, picking up her keys from the pot of her balcony plant. Time to be the be the grown-up. Again.

"Sophie, are you 100% sure you want to get married to this guy? Can't you wait a few months at least? How about you guys move in with each other first?" If Sophie doesn't tire of him, that would terrify the poor thing into ending this madness. Again, Agatha would know. She had to stay at Sophie's for a few weeks once, back when she had split with a partner whom she had been living with; it was hell on earth.

"Weren't you hearing, Aggie? We. Are. Soulmates. He is very serious about me. He's so in love with me, he would never hurt me, and I need to tie him down before he runs away. Isn't this what people always say?" Her friend's voice was getting snappy. Oh, no, not good.

"Sophie, I just think you should be more careful and reasonable…" Agatha tried to pacify, tiredly.

Did she not own any clean jeans? Damn. Why does she keep forgetting to do her laundry? The blue skirt she wore to work would have to do.

"It's always reason, with you, Agatha! You never listen to your heart! I thought you would be happy for me! You're always telling me just how much potential I have! He brings out the best in me! What do you even know about relationships anyway, you always end up ru-"

"SOPHIE!" She interrupted, before her friend could say something she'd regret and crush whatever good mood was left in Agatha's body. "I'm just surprised, that's all. Tell me about this guy…?"

Fuck it, she decided. Agatha was in currently in a hurry and this could be solved later. She wasn't going to be able to win Sophie over the phone. Maybe she could sit her down on sunday, have one long talk about red flags in relationships, again. Convince her to stay engaged for a bit longer, just enough for her to get bored and then call it all off as soon as the new whats-his-face walks through the door.

Now was not the moment to be arguing, especially if she wanted to be on time.

"…And he's so great and wonderful, he's tall, has these hypnotizing eyes, they're so intense, it's like they suck you in, Aggie! His hair is just wow, it's a very uncommon shade of blonde, the undertone is beautiful, so expensive-looking... but it's natural, he swears. And his skin is so soft, you wouldn't believe, his name is…"

Agatha tried to listen. She really did. However, all she could hear was "bla, bla, bla, perfect, bla, bla, bla, handsome". Lord, not this again. Did it get worse every time...?

The brunette stuffed her wallet in a handbag, grappling to close it (it had been a present from Sophie, and as such, probably hardwired to annoy her and look good at the same time), and gave herself a look over in the mirror, before frowning. Oh, time for her limited make-up skills to be of use.

Damn, she looked rough. She left in hurry that morning, so her bare face stared back at her in its full sleepless-racoon glory.

It has been a long week of nothing but late nights trying to get her workload done. She couldn't believe she was saying this, but she missed college. At least back then she didn't have to worry about rent. Oh, to be young, broke, dead-inside and living on a dorm. The wonders, truly.

Concealer, blush, eyeliner, mascara, and lipstick. There. Done.

Kinda?

"… So, are you up to it?"

What.

"… Hm, sure?" She responded, still trying to evaluate if her liner was acceptably symmetrical. It wasn't. It never was, but it wasn't always this bad. Really, not her best work. Maybe she could fix it, somehow?

"That's amazing, you'll look so pretty, the dress I picked is perfect for your undertone, you'll be the best maid-of-honor ever!"

Oh, god, no. No way. What has she done?

Should she do that red-flag-talk now?

"How… nice of you to say that," Agatha replied, barely contained horror coming across in her tone. Not that Sophie paid her any attention.

"I set the date for the engagement brunch-party for tomorrow around 10am. At the terrace. And speaking of dates, I must introduce you to someone, he's great, Aggie, and I think you guys could…"

No. No. No. Agatha is drawing the line here.

"Oh really, cool, hey I have to go, callyoulaterbye-"

Agatha throws her phone on the bed, groaning loudly. Reaper stirs in her pillow, but is otherwise unbothered by the conversation, unlike his owner.

Of all things… getting married. Agatha was now her bridesmaid. Engagement brunch…?

Sophie, why. Why?

Agatha was now an accomplice of this crime against good judgement, wasn't she? Should she call Sophie again…?

Ugh, you know what? She'll sort this out this later. Sophie could wait a few hours, Agatha earned this night out.

…This totally is going to come back to bite her, isn't it?

Well, too late, Agatha's leaving. Because, unlike Sophie, who clearly had too much free time in her hands, Agatha had things to do and couldn't just waste her precious friday nights on this kind of bullshit.

.

.

.

"You're late," is the first thing Hester says to Agatha, not even lifting her gaze from her phone as she approaches their table.

It was the usual one, right by the wall, perfectly placed so it was far enough from the dance floor but close enough to the bar, so it was still socially acceptable to be seated but not too "loser-zoned", in Hester's own words.

Hester herself looked the same as always. Dressed head-to-toe in black and showing off an impressive number of tattoos per square inch of skin, she made quite the intimidating sight. The only tip to her actual day job was the discarded white blazer and sleek suitcase lying on a chair beside her. Back in school, Agatha used to find it hard to picture Hester being anything but a witchy-biker or a badass-tattoo-artist, but she supposed scary-lawyer suited her friend just fine.

"Nice to see you too, Hester. I've been well, thanks for asking," Agatha sits down, annoyed. She knows she's late. She missed the "early-comers, free entrance" time, and damn if the isn't pissed that she's now 15 bucks broker then she already was. "Anadil, Dot, it's great to see you guys too"

Both women acknowledge her presence quietly: Anadil nods,before getting up from her spot and leaving to god-wishes-he-knew-where and Dot hugs her briefly, headed to the bar.

Hester rolls her eyes and repeats herself.

"You're late."

"Shut up, I'm here, aren't I?!" Agatha snaps, before she bit her lip and propped her elbows onto the table, head in her hands.

The gesture makes Hester lift her eyes from the phone, finally.

"Well, someone's had a bad day."

"Look, I'm sorry. It's been one looong horrid day. Have you ordered any drinks? Or are we going for beer tonight?" Agatha asks, going over the familiar menu, even though she has every beverage price there already memorized.

"Okay, slow down," Hester yanks the menu out of her hands. "Have you eaten? I'm not going to take care of you if you didn't."

Yes, she would, but that's not relevant.

"Yes, mom," Agatha rolled her eyes. "I'm tired, tomorrow is gonna suck, let's drink."

"Tomorrow? Tomorrow's saturday, loser, sleep to your hearts content," Hester reminds her, but at seeing Agatha stare back at her in misery it occurred to her what, or rather, who, this was about.

"Blondie has been texting me non-stop about brunch. At 10. What's up with that?" She lifts a brow, her judging eyes scanning Agatha's expression. Agatha in turn, lets her elbows drop and bangs her head onto the table, harder than originally planned, a whimper leaving her lips.

Hester sighs. She loves Agatha to the death, but when it comes to Sophie, she has always been way too forgiving. Agatha was not Sophie's mother, she shouldn't have to look out for her and bend over backyards to help her. Personally, Hester and Sophie didn't get along very well.

Which lead to: Sophie never invited Hester anywhere, unless she wanted to rub something in Hester's face.

"...Apparently, she's getting married in, like, two weeks?" Hester's brows lift in surprise. "...To some guy I don't know?" Higher. "...And I'm a bridesmaid?" Almost disappearing into her hairline by now.

Awkward pause.

"Okay," Hester breathes in and out, "what the actual hell?"

"My words exactly."

"She'll be over it in a week," the tattooed woman deadpans.

"No doubt," the other replies.

Three more seconds go by, and it's far too long for Agatha, whose leg starts to twitch under the table.

"You're doing it again," she states.

"Doing what?" Hester asks, crossing her arms, lying back at her chair.

"That thing."

"What thing?"

"You know," Agatha vaguely gestures at Hester's face, "that thing your eyebrows do when you're being judgy."

"I am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"I so need a drink right now," she tells her before leaving the table.

.

.

.

At the bar counter, Agatha sits down on a stool and waits for the bartender, Chaddick, to show up, ignoring Hester's glare on her back.

Now for some unnecessary backstory, in case you're interested: Agatha and Chaddick had a bit of history (read, beef) long before this club, The Woods, opened and even before Agatha and Hester started to have their monthly night-out there.

Chaddick was a jock whom Agatha went to school with, all the way from sixth grade to senior year of high school. To be brief, he was the worst ™. He made fun of her, tormented her days, spread rumors about her (including one that she was witch, which lasted for years) and even stole her stuff once. In senior year, he had even developed this habit of showing up with his friends at the tea place her mother owned, where she had worked a few shifts from time to time, ordering not a single drop of fucking tea, being loud and annoying for hours and only leaving when closing hour neared.

Agatha was sure that if you googled 'jackass', his picture would turn up. He'd been so full of himself, all because he had some cash, was athletic and was "cute", you know, in that white-upper-middle-class-way that most school-aged popular boys tended to be. But then, flash-forward: Chaddick now worked wednesday to saturday as a bartender at Agatha's favorite club. Apparently, his parents went bankrupt or something during college. Agatha felt kinda bad for him, but not really? She supposed he wasn't as terrible of a human being nowadays, but she was not about to go ahead and call him her friend, no matter how many times she had to make small talk with him for the sake of bar etiquette.

"So what's it gonna be today?" The bartender asked, not quite politely, but she lets it slide, for she could tell he was as thrilled about this conversation as her.

Chaddick, too, looks the same, to no one's surprise. He looked more tired, but still douchey enough that Agatha didn't feel too horrible of a person for not feeling as sorry for him as she probably should.

"Surprise me. I've had a very bad day."

"Is Sophie actually up to something then?" He asks while grabbing some bottles, "I hear there's going to be a brunch-party tomorrow…?"

"Who told you? Reena?" Chaddick dismisses the name casually with his hand. "Gisele?" 'no', he denies with his head. "Beatrix then?" he nods, uncharacteristically shy, and Agatha nearly felt pleased, before she remembered what they were talking about before. "Bingo. But yes, there's a brunch-party tomorrow. An engagement brunch-party."

He hands her a cup, wide-eyed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Engagement? Do I even wanna know w-"

"You don't. Trust me on this," Agatha cuts him off, taking a sip of the beverage. She doesn't recognize its taste, which makes her wary. She knows her alchool. "What did you even put here?"

"It's a secret, tonight's special," he winked mockingly, before hurrying on to the next client.

Agatha briefly wonders if she should drink the rest of it, eyeing the cup curiously. It didn't smell bad and she kind of liked the taste. Should she trust Chaddick? Probably not. Then again, Agatha needed a drink tonight.

It would be fine. She is no lightweight, Hester is here, tomorrow's saturday. Right?

Another thing that would probably bite her later. So, she braces herself and downs the cup in a few large sips, heading back to her table.

Bring it on.

.

.

.

Two other cups of who-knows-what and an hour later, Agatha was back at the bar, now sitting in different stool, as far from Chaddick as she possibly could be, when a body drops on the sit next to her.

It's Dot, giggling loudly like a high school girl on heavy drugs.

The giggling persists for quite some time.

... It's kinda creeping Agatha out.

"Penny for your thoughts…?" She tries, taking a sip of her drink.

No response.

Giggle.

More silence.

"Hm, Dot?"

She continues to stare at her joyfully, still smiling like a madwoman.

Agatha found Dot adorable and friendly, which was a surprise since she was one of Hester's best friends. The two of them weren't really that close themselves, but she did enjoy her company. Being friends with Dot was as easy as it was harmless.

"Don't look, but there's a really hot guy right by the pool table who hasn't been able to take his eyes off you for the last fifteen minutes."

Agatha's eyebrows shot up in Hester-like fashion and she fights the instinct to turn around and check if Dot isn't messing with her.

She knows she is not the most attractive female in the room. Agatha tends to think of herself as more of an acquired taste, truly. Yet, every blue moon someone would come over to try their luck with her. Sometimes they're cute, sometimes they're funny and sometimes they're just desperate. So far, "hot guys" haven't really been her target demographic.

"So what? What's the big deal?" She tries to keep her nerves out of her voice, mostly succeeding, but Dot's smile only grew more and more mischievous, as if seeing right through her.

"Turn around. I dare you not to remember him. Pretty sure Sophie told you about how she met him again a few weeks ago, at that event she went to? The one sponsored by Camelot International?"

…Okay, so Agatha might be a bit of a bad friend. She didn't listen to 90% of Sophie's rants about guys or modeling events, so most likely she had told her about him as Agatha did something else. Something important, really.

…Like playing games on her tablet.

She worked a lot, okay? Can't have people hogging all her free time. Even if it was Sophie. Her best friend.

Shit.

Agatha's face must have betrayed her because Dot laughed even louder than before.

"You seriously don't?" she managed to ask between giggles, as Agatha blushed, frowning.

"I should?"

"Most likely yes. Sometimes you're way too funny, you know?" Her smile was dangerous. Stop smiling at Agatha like that, woman.

It was at times like this she could see why Hester and Dot were such good friends.

"Thanks, I think?" Agatha eyes her companion carefully "How hot is this guy any…"

"Hot enough for you to talk to me, I hope," a male voice announced behind her, seemingly amused.

Not her day. Definitely not her day.

"He's right behind me?!"

Dot giggled loudly a final time before walking away to Hester's table. Very helpful. Forget what Agatha said about liking Dot. She didn't. Dot was a horrible person.

Agatha turned on her heels, facing the stranger with a sheepish smile. She was not ready for what was about to bite her.

Oh damn, please do.

…Figuratively, fuck. She meant in a figurative way.

Before we go on, Agatha would like to clarify that she blames any less than pure thoughts on Chaddick, because who knows what he put into her drink.

(Yeah, it's totally Chaddick's fault)

Amen, praise Jesus, okay?

Embarrassingly, her first instinct is to say that yes, he was totally hot enough to talk to her. Or come home with her. Or marry her (too soon for this joke, scratch that). That's not what she did, however. Oh, no, she stood there, in silence, and stared for quite a while before her brain rebooted and she finally gained control of her own body again.

Agatha is the first in line to advocate on why you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but she had eyes.

He was tall. As tall, if not taller than her, and Agatha was a tall woman. His jeans looked expensive and his light blue social shirt was tight on his chest, almost as if it were a size too small, the top buttons open, defined muscles visible to even the most casual observer. The shirt was paired with a grey-ish tie that hanged loosely around his neck, a bit too effortless-looking to be unintentional. His features were sharp, sculpted even, a certain California-sunny-surfer meets Adonis-next-door quality to them. Soft blond locks had an unnatural shine under the club's lights, as if they were made of gold.

And his eyes, my god, they were so blue Agatha felt like sinking and drowning in his arms right then and there. Unfortunately, she couldn't. Because you see, she is a grown woman and had a little thing called dignity.

Not that she didn't want to though.

Focus.

He did look kind of familiar. Had they met before? Agatha doesn't think so. This man looked like he just walked out of a Calvin Klein ad, and she sure as hell didn't know many people who look like that. One of Sophie's model friends? If so, she certainly hadn't introduced the two.

Yet, the way he was looking at her right now indicated the reality that she should probably know who he is. Maybe he was from her old gym, back when she let Sophie talk her into going for a few months? No, there were no hot guys there, just old ladies and teenagers.

Okay, so, plan B, say something smart.

"Hm…"

Say something.

"…So…"

Anything!

He doesn't look very impressed by her articulate conversation skills, but Agatha can't place where she had seen him before. Maybe they had been neighbors at some point? She moved quite a few times in these last years and keeping track of all of them was impossible. But that didn't seem quite right. A friend of one of her exes then? Did they meet at pride or something?

Seriously, who was this guy! Acting all smooth, as if she should know who he is! He's good looking enough to be memorable sure, but clearly not memorable enough.

Hell, did she sleep with him? He must have been the worst one night stand ever for Agatha to somehow forget him. Maybe he was so bad that she forgot about him completely...?

"I give up, I can't remember you."

He looked a bit offended. Maybe he was indeed a Calvin Klein model.

"The name's Tedros…?"

Tedros, Tedros… Tedros?

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell," she concludes, "but, I'm, hm, Agatha?"

"I know," he responds, curt and firm, nearly glaring at her.

"Neat."

"Nice."

"Good."

"Great."

"Awesome."

"Amazing."

"Extraordinary."

"Now, that's a big word," he mocks. Agatha suspects he just didn't know any bigger ones to keep up. Part of her wishes to strangle him with his own tie and part of her wants to call him out on his shit. He approached her, okay? She is under no obligation to recognize him.

Her eyes narrow and she sips on her fourth cup again.

"Do you need for me to tell you what it means?"

"Oh, no, I'm fine."

The passive-aggressive-ness of this conversation is starting to exhaust her and kill any buzz she had, but she can't just let Mr. everyone-knows-who-I-am-and-I-look-like-walking-sex win. He needed to go down (on her). What.

"Hm, Tedros, you're going to order something or what?"

Chaddick cuts the stare contest between brown and blue and Agatha makes a note to leave him a nicer tip tonight.

"What's the special of the day?" Tedros' tone is amused, as if he and Chaddick are old friends. Ugh, of course he would. He sounded douchey enough. Maybe he went to school with her? That sounded about right, she could picture it. Pretty-boy-Tedros, walking down the hall wearing a football jacket with a cheerleader or two on his arm.

"Nice little things I've put together," Chaddick wiggled his eyebrows. "Want some?"

"Is it safe?" Tedros asks him, cautiously.

"Well, Agatha here is still fine at four, I would say so."

Soon enough Tedros is downing his second cup, sitting on the stool next to hers.

.

.

.

Agatha wasn't sure how or why, but things went from point A to point B very, very quickly.

Point A being sitting beside Tedros at the bar and point B being heavily making out with him in a corner.

Agatha wishes she was joking. She wasn't. It just…somehow…happened?

Fuck.

It all started when Tedros eventually caught up to her and from there on they held a little amicable drinking competition.

("I bet you can't do more shots than me." "Oh, you're so on!" "You drink like a fourteen-year old, dude." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah.")

Then, they paid for their drinks. Well, Tedros did.

("Did you just... pay for me?" "It's called having manners." "Excuse you?")

After that, Chaddick kicked them out to the dance floor, something about the two of them 'grossing him out'. Agatha is not much of a dancer, so she tried to go back her table but Tedros said something (she can't quite remember what it was) that made her realize that she kind of didn't want to. Leave, she means.

They danced for a bit before she stepped on Tedros's foot, or maybe he stepped on hers first?

("Ouch." "Get out of my way!" "Make me.")

From there on it was incomprehensible screaming over loud music for a while and they somehow ended up being way too up in each other's personal space. Agatha eventually just lost it, and grabbed him by his collar, bringing him down to place a forceful peck on his lips, before backing away, partly horrified, partly proud.

It took two mortifyingly long seconds of silence and pure embarrassment for Tedros to grab her by the waist and kiss her roughly.

They stumbled to a more secluded corner, until Agatha's back hit a wall, but she was distracted from the pain of the impact by Tedros licking her bottom lip, seeking her tongue, a small sound escaping her once he found it. What the hell is she even doing, this should not be happening. And yet, she cannot bring herself to care.

This is a wild, passionate kiss and not at all Agatha's expertise. She always considered herself more of a slow-vanilla-soft kind of girl. But out the window with that, Tedros was nowhere near close enough, no matter that they were already flush against each other. Maybe this is why Sophie thinks every guy she meets is her soulmate. As cheesy as it sounds, she feels somehow connected to this stranger, almost as if they were meant to be or something.

Ha, as if.

Any thoughts, of soulmates or otherwise, are forgotten when Tedros' hands start to wander, one goes from her waist to her hip and the other moves to explore her tight, squeezing it deliciously. Agatha retaliates by pulling on his hair, not as lightly as she probably should've, but is rewarded with a husky groan and a bite on her bottom lip.

(She does it again because that might be her new favorite sound.)

What. Is. Going. On.

Her last braincells are on fire. She was on fire.

Okay, young lady, de-attach yourself from the handsome male slo…

Oh God.

She's pretty much breathless when he decides to break the kiss, her lips chasing after his for the slightest second as he pulls away. Her heartbeat has never been this loud and she has no time to overthink, as, suddenly, his lips are on her neck. Agatha lets out a quiet, but embarrassingly needy, whine (as quietly as she could, but it didn't really matter, he heard her anyway) when he nips on her ear and then trails down to suck at her pulse point. Her hands snake their way from his hair to under his shirt's collar and Tedros shivers once she drags her short nails lightly on his upper back and shoulders, but she can still feel his very attractive smug smirk against her skin.

She felt drunk. She doesn't feel like that often.

Not the completely-trashed-I-just-had-countless-drinks kind of drunk and certainly not this don't-care-keep-going-my-blood-is-on-fire kind of drunk either. Like she wanted to keep touching Tedros for the rest of her life (the idea doesn't sound half bad), as fireworks danced around them and… God, if Sophie knows this guy how she could not marry him on the spot, because fuck…

He's leaving quite a few love bites along her collarbone, teasing, attempting (and succeeding) at drawing tiny sounds from her and Agatha can't take it anymore. She drags him back up to her mouth and somehow pulls him even closer. She did not like feeling weak, but to her surprise, Tedros seemed to possess the superpower of turning her completely boneless in the best kind of way.

Wait.

Agatha is making out with Tedros.

Tedros is making out with her.

Agatha's eyes open in late realization and the two of them stare at each other for a few seconds.

So, this happened, huh?

"I… hm… have to go. Out of here. Home. Alone. Yeah, that," Agatha makes way around paralyzed Tedros, whom looks very confused and disoriented. His lips are tainted with coral lipstick, he's panting for air, his bright eyes dark with desire, clothes looking disrelished, pants looking a bit too tight, and he just looks throughfully kissed.

No, Agatha does not feel even a little tiny bit of pride by seeing him look like that because of her, what are you talking about, not sexy, not sexy at all.

… Maybe he could come along?

No. No, no, no.

She doesn't run away from him exactly, but she sure as hell wasn't walking. As she passes Hester and Anadil, the two of them raise eyebrows judgingly, but Agatha does her best to school her expression into neutrality.

If she waited a bit longer, she might have heard Tedros saying:

"Until tomorrow then."

.

.

.

Agatha regrets every single life choice that led her to this point.

She's sitting on a ridiculously shaped chair at Sophie's apartment building's terrace, brooding silently in the corner, with a big headache, while eating some diet cake that tasted like foam, listening to violin versions of bad pop songs, probably dying of heatstroke, and if that doesn't kill her soon enough, can someone please end her misery…

Hester and Anadil are not here after all. Agatha doesn't blame them. It might be for the best, because Agatha doesn't need to deal with Hester's judgy eyebrows right now. Dot is down in Sophie's apartment, at the kitchen, most likely trying to steal some wine and she is pretty much the only person here Agatha can stand.

She partly wonders if Hort will show up but decides she does not care. She's running on aspirin, her head feels like it was smashed against a wall multiple times, and it's too hot here, okay?

It's a hot sunny day and the limited shade would not be enough to cool Agatha down even if she wasn't wearing a scarf. Agatha hates this scarf. It was another one of Sophie's gifts, and Agatha hates it because it's an evil scarf that pinches her every five seconds. However it's the lightest scarf she owns, and she can't it take off.

Otherwise, someone might notice the dark mark on her neck, which her shirt could not hide, as was the case for the other ones, lower, in her collarbones.

Tedros freaking marked her. The nerve.

She's not nearly as pissed as she should be, because honestly she's kinda into it.

Taking off the scarf would lead to too much teasing and questions, she had no turtlenecks available (damn you, past-Agatha, for not doing your laundry) and if only she had the skills to cover it up with makeup. Not only was the scarf evil by itself, it made it impossible for her to not think of yesterday, therefore, making her even more irritable.

She is not the kind of person who kisses people at the club. She sure as hell wouldn't bring a guy she's just met, at the club of all places, home. What if he'd been a psycho? She doesn't know him. He'd know where she lived. She wouldn't go to his place either, that sounded even more irresponsible. But she wishes she had at least gotten his number, you know, instead of freaking out and running away. Well, he knew Chaddick, so maybe she could ask him?

No, that would be humiliating, and Agatha is trying to hang on to whatever dignity she had left.

Also, it had been almost an hour at this damned terrace party and she hasn't seen a single trace of Sophie's fiancé, but the blonde assured her he would be there soon. He's the late-type, hm.

Okay, so Agatha hates him already.

She has been to this terrace quite a few times, it was the one pro of Sophie's building, aside from cheap rent. But she was running out of both will and things to point out in small talk with all these models and small influencers. If she hears "Sophie has such a lovely terrace" one more time…

Suddenly, there was clank, signaling that someone pushed the terrace door open. As Sophie lit up and moved to greet the newcomer, Agatha felt the cake climb up her throat.

Holy hell, is that Tedros?

What is her life, really.

Agatha gets up from her chair quietly, observing the scene from behind a plant, trying not to be too obvious, just, ya know, casually chilling in the middle of the scorching sun. Sophie hugs him tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek, grinning as she laces their fingers together and starts walking in Agatha's general direction, pulling the handsome man behind her.

Hm, no.

Agatha resists the urge to pace in circles as she tries to gather her thoughts. It might be the hangover or the diet cake but seeing the two of them together made her wanna barf. Not because they didn't look good together. They did. In fact, maybe too good. Sophie's long soft hair was a shade or two lighter than Tedros', but other than that, they might as well have been made in the same Instagram-model-facility. Like a set, Barbie and Ken.

What is this feeling?

Oh no, she can see them approaching. Abort mission, leave, get out, hit the road…

"Aggie, darling!"

Agatha forces herself to fake a confident smile, as if she could always be found casually hanging out behind plants on saturday mornings. It turned out to be more of sheepish grin, especially when compared to her friend, whose pretty smile is almost too big for her too pretty face.

Sophie looked particularly gorgeous in her pastel green summer dress and peep-toe heels. Her tanned skin glows under the sun, the light catching in her green eyes on that special way that made photographers all around the industry want to work with her despite her inexperience, the grace within her movements creating an allure Agatha doesn't think she'd be able to recreate even if she were to be born again.

This is not good. Leave, abort mission, repeat, abort miss…

"Aggie, this is Tedros, you know, the one I was telling you about yesterday," she winked. "Teddy, this is my bestie, Agatha, you remember her, right?" Sophie nudges him lightly using her elbow.

Tedros looks even better now that she can see him in natural daylight. Which should be illegal, truly. He's wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, his hair made of pure gold looked just messy enough to not look too try-hard, yet something about him looked weirdly… staged? Agatha couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"I surely do," Tedros lets go of Sophie's hand, shoulders tensing, and Agatha thinks he might be blushing. Is he nervous? "We-"

"Nice to meet you," Agatha interrupts him, grasping his hand on a firm handshake and letting go just as fast, as if touching his skin would burn her. "Sophie told me a lot about you."

Play along, please. I beg you.

"Oh, hm, it's very nice to meet you too?" Tedros responds, confused, but not calling her out. "Nice scarf," he adds, his lips curling upwards, so very slightly she might have missed if she wasn't micro-analyzing his every movement. Smug bastard. She is all too aware of his gaze lingering on her neck, a hint of pride showing in his bright eyes, the teasing in his voice making her want to pull him down by the collar, whether to choke him or to kiss him she couldn't tell.

"Oh, isn't it cute? See, Aggie, I told you that color looked great on you!" Sophie cuts in, reaching to touch said scarf. Agatha steps back self-consciously, making an effort to not scratch the back of her neck as not to call more attention to it.

"Quite the bold fashion statement for the summer, may I add," Tedros continues as he casually leaned one elbow on Sophie's shoulder. Subtle enough that Sophie wouldn't read too much into it, but Agatha could see right through his shit. "But I like it. You look very pretty, Agatha"

How dare he, truly. No sham-

Wait.

"So, I need to get going, work emergency you see, but I'll make it up to you, Sophie," Agatha excuses herself, quickly. She tells herself it's just the heat that it's bothering her, but her brain is going 300 miles per hours and she needs to leave. Now.

"Aggie, tomorrow we'll be having lunch at the country club, don't be late!"

"Yeah, be there, alright."

Agatha sprints down the complex's stairs as discreetly as she can, which is not much. By the time she's at her car, the weight of her realization hits her full force.

.

.

.

"I'm getting married, Aggie"

"Not Hort"

"You don't know him yet"

.

.

.

"Aggie, this is Tedros, you know, the one I was telling you about yesterday."

.

.

.

"That was literally three weeks ago."

"I dare you not to remember him. Pretty sure Sophie told you about how she met him again a few weeks ago at that event she went to? The one sponsored by Camelot International?"

.

.

.

"…Oh he's so great and wonderful, he's tall, has these hypnotizing eyes, they're so intense, its like they suck you in, Aggie! His hair is just wow, it's a very uncommon shade of blonde, the undertone is beautiful, so expensive-looking, but it's natural, he swears, and his skin is so soft you wouldn't believe, his name is…"

"bla, bla, bla, perfect, bla, bla, bla, handsome"

.

.

.

"He's so different from anyone I've ever met…"

"She feels somehow connected to this stranger, almost as if they were meant to be or something."

.

.

.

"Acting all smooth, as if she should know who he is!"

"He looked a bit offended."

"The name's Tedros?"

.

.

.

"God, if Sophie knows this guy how could she not marry him on the spot…"

"Sophie hugs him tightly, placing a kiss on his cheek, grinning as she laces their fingers together and starts walking, pulling the handsome man behind her."

.

.

.

Agatha is a very bad friend, isn't she?

She bangs her head on the wheel.

Then, she regrets doing so, opening the car's door, so she could vomit some diet cake and last night's alcohol on the parking lot's floor before driving away.

.

.

.

By a miracle, Agatha survives the drive home and makes it back home in one piece.

As she walks into her own apartment, she does not feel half as guilty as she thought she would be. But she was very, very angry. Furious, actually.

At herself for being both a dumbass and a bad friend, at Tedros for being a player, at Chaddick for being a dick in general, at Sophie for being Sophie, at Dot for not warning her and even at Hester for not being at the party today so Agatha could at least not freak out by herself.

She can't do anything for the rest of the day, because trying to work, read or sleep is useless, since she can't focus with all the internal screeching her mind is doing. Her existence now doesn't make any sense and Agatha is about to tear her hair out, lying down in her bed, staring at the celling.

(There's a long crack on there and for whatever reason, it reminded her of a river. Probably because it didn't look like anything else.)

She contemplates calling Hester and telling her everything but ultimately decides against it. She can't bring herself to explain this out loud, least of all hear any possible lecture Hester might give her. Is this how Sophie feels when she decides hide things from her-

Oh my God, Sophie.

Tedros was engaged. To Sophie. He was Sophie's fiancé.

Agatha is not freaking out at all.

.

.

.

At last, ten long hours of sulking later, Agatha is feeling a lot guiltier, still very much pissed and just confused as a whole.

She made out with Sophie's fiancé. Should she tell her? Yes. Would she? To be decided.

Maybe they wouldn't even get married. Come on, a few weeks? There's no way Sophie will keep up this insanity. Telling her about the club incident would only hurt their life-long friendship over a guy who wasn't even gonna last two months. Years of companionship out the window. She had no intention of doing it again so, did it really matter? What the eyes don't see, the heart doesn't feel, right?

She hadn't even known he was Sophie's fiancé!

But then again, Sophie had told her all about him. She didn't listen because she was a bad friend! Was she really gonna play the "I didn't know" card...?

It was the truth!

But no one would believe her. Fuck, if Agatha were Sophie, she wouldn't believe herself. Agatha was a smart grown woman, godamn it. What kind of dumb bitch even-

This wedding wasn't happening. No need to worry, right?

For now, Agatha has two long weeks of supposedly weeding-related bonding moments with Sophie to survive, without accidentally letting slip that, oh, talked, drank, danced and made out with Tedros.

Well, shit.

.

.

.

Even if one ignored the fact that the guilt was starting to eat Agatha alive from inside out, the next day would still have been a long, tortured journey of nothing but cringe and regrets. Yet she bore it, because she, even if accidentally, brought this on herself.

Agatha got up early on a sunday (name a bigger crime) to try and get something done, since she would probably have little time to work in the following weeks. Then, she went to have lunch with Sophie at a fancy country club (that Sophie couldn't afford by the way, which earned her a lecture on credit cards and personal finances) hoping to have that "red-flag" talk.

It did not go well.

Sophie had invited him along. Of course, she would. Apparently, since she was getting married soon, Agatha should be used to have him around. And, of course, Sophie would have decided to tell her he was coming the moment he walked in, headed to their table.

This is Sophie's fiancé. Do. Not. Stare.

What kind of cosmic karma is this? He isn't even her type.

WHY-

"Afternoon, ladies."

Sophie greeted the blonde with a smile and a hug, as Agatha merely nodded his way, scanning the room for the closest exit.

"Hi Teddy!"

"Tedros."

Lunch is awkward as hell and at this point Agatha is just waiting for a waiter to come and stab her. It ends up being both not so terrible and the worst lunch ever because she does talk quite a lot with Tedros, against her better judgment.

She learns that Tedros did go to her school, for three years. Sophie asks him if he remembers Agatha, and from Tedros' silence, Agatha assumes he doesn't want to admit to having been part of Chaddick's... shenanigans.

Her friend then talks astrology, and Agatha learns that he is a leo (because of course he would), is kinda proud of it but says he doesn't believe in astrology, prompting Sophie to start a discussion on why he wouldn't believe in astrology if he believed in tarot. The way he blushes and stammers is cute and makes Agatha feel horrible for thinking so, but she asks him about tarot anyway. She's just being polite, okay?

He mentions he'd turned 26 a while ago and recently moved back to the city, as he moved away to go to college in Avalon. She tells him she almost went there, but her scholarship did not include a dormroom and she knew no one there to share an apartment with. His answer is a blunt "I know", which both confuses and pisses her off.

Tedros offers her no further info on it, but they engage in conversation again after he mentions he is working at Camelot International.

("As one of the main executives on the board," Sophie adds, "it's one of the most powerful companies in the country.")

They quickly bond over their massive workloads (Agatha may not be a main executive of a huge corporate empire, but damn if being head finance director for SGE Enterprises didn't keep her busy enough), until Sophie slips that he must be very lucky to be the sole heir to the Pendragon Group.

Oh.

Tedros Pendragon. Are you kidding? Agatha remembers seeing his family's name being all over the news back in school and she feels dumb for not remembering that Tedros and 'that Pendragon boy' were the same person. Hadn't his parents had a huge cheating-divorce-scandal that caused the stock for the company to plummet a few years ago?

Tedros frowns at Sophie before saying that, "Yes, indeed, he's very lucky."

The blonde doesn't seem to notice the way his hands grip the fork tightly as he pronounces the last word, but Agatha does.

It adds on to the list of things that keep her awake later, after she does her damn laundry and stress-cleans her entire apartment. She curses as she turns and tosses on her bed, because it's 2 AM, work starts in a few hours and she needs to sleep.

.

.

.

The next four days are not much different, the routine is pretty much the same, except they have dinner plans instead of lunch. Work, eat, work, do bridesmaid shit with Sophie and Tedros somewhere, avoid his gaze, talk for a bit over something like choosing the best flower arrangements, and then hightail out of there, only to come home and be restless.

She was still very confused, because honestly, Tedros didn't seem bad at all. The more she talked to him, the least she wanted to stop talking to him. He definitely had some family issues and was doing some overcompensating, but nothing that made him, like, a total trash human.

And yet, he was still the guy who hit on her (fucking made out with her), knowing exactly who she was, while being engaged to her best friend.

She always thought herself a good judge of character.

Anyway, she did her best to act aloofly polite and if he ever seemed to hint at the night at The Woods, Agatha cut him off before he could. It was a good plan. Wait it out. And it really was working just fine.

Until the dress store.

For some reason she cannot wrap her head around, Tedros is there too.

(Isn't there a tradition against seeing the dress of your bride before the wedding or something?)

At some point, Sophie struggles to get into a particularly complicated dress at the dressing room, yelling at the poor employees like a harpy on a rampage and Agatha is about to intervene when he manages to pull her aside, his grip firm but with a certain gentleness that made her skin burn.

He semi-drags her across the store through a sea of sparkly white dresses and into this small nook between sections. Agatha does not want to admit that the main reason why he is able to do that is because she allows him to.

Things only go downhill from there.

He has her cornered, her back nearly merging with the wall as he stands close to her, his posture tense, moving slowly, like one would in presence of a startled animal. He doesn't look like he is trying to purposely intimidate her, and she doesn't feel particularly unsafe. No words are spoken between them and the silence allows Agatha's senses to pick up on a deliciously rich smell. Is that Tedros' cologne-

Agatha forces down the rash that is creeping up her neck and tries to focus on doing what she does best, aka, running away from her problems. She looks anywhere but his face, but he is not making ignoring him an easy job.

"I don't get you."

What.

"Excuse me?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about."

Agatha scoffs, arms crossing in front of her chest.

"I truly don't."

Her response seems to annoy him, which she counts as a win, but Agatha might have declared victory just a bit too soon. Tedros, who was a couple of feet away has managed to get way too close (yet again). His hand raises her chin and forces her to look into his eyes. Her resolution to run away falters and she's scared he might hear her heartbeat speed up.

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Agatha. One second you don't like me, then you do like me, then you don't again… I don't understand the game you're playing here… So, I'll make this simple, you won, congratulations, now stop playing games, now you know I'm interested."

Agatha blinks. This is… not the conversation she thought she was going to have.

Of course, during her nightly overthinking sessions she thought about what she'd say if he confronted her about the previous friday, even if she didn't think he'd have the balls to actually do it. But she seems to have been reduced to this dumpster fire nonsense. Tedros never did what she thought he was going to do and it was short-circuiting her braincells.

She's way too aware of the hold he has on her, the compromising situation they're in. One of his hands cages Agatha in, placed on the wall behind her head, while the other keeps her from adverting her gaze from his. Tedros is too close, he smells too good and his mouth looks too inviting.

She hears him, but she doesn't really hear him, his presence fogging up her senses.

Agatha briefly entertains the idea of giving into temptation and kissing him. How nice it would be to grab his collar, invert their positions, slam him against the wall and kiss him senseless, so he could feel just how helpless she felt having him corner her like this. Kiss him and just leave him there, wanting, begging, and…

What. Wow, fuck. Stop.

A new thought hits her like a ton bricks.

This guy is an asshole.

Tedros looks irritated and Agatha wants to punch him.

So she does.

She's strong enough to give him a black eye, but she (unintentionally, Agatha swears) holds backs and aims for his chest. However, she can tell it hurt a lot by the way his eyes water and he backs away several steps. She hears Sophie yelling their names across the store and giving Tedros one last glare, she turns around and walks away.

The nerve.

Why would anyone marry him?

Sophie needed a wakeup call. And fast. Because while Sophie could be a nightmare, she did not deserve to be played like that.

.

.

.

Agatha was not a superstitious person.

If she forgot her umbrella at home and it started raining when she left the dress shop (Tedros and Sophie both offered her a ride but she would rather choke, honestly, and said no, forgetting that she rode here with Sophie in the first place), it's not fate, it's bad luck. If she gets sick and loses her voice (and therefore can't go do neither her work or her bridesmaid duty), it's not conspiracy, it's simply a coincidence.

Well, call it fate, call it bad luck, call it conspiracy, call it coincidence. The case is that Agatha has lost her voice and has both a running nose and a fever. She considers texting the whole story to Sophie but changes her mind when she imagines the blonde woman's reaction.

Agatha, you're such a slut.

She is going to tell Sophie about this… this… this individual. Yeah, she was going to come clean and expose Tedros. No wedding.

Why was Tedros marrying Sophie anyway? She could understand why Sophie would go for Tedros. He did seem like her type. Young, rich, successful and handsome.

(Not really what she herself looked for. Agatha tended to go for witty, responsible people and who did not mind her blunt nature. Never in the history of ever, had Sophie and Agatha been interested on the same person.)

Anyway, he would give her lots of exposure, would look great on her Instagram feed, would be able to save her from her terrible apartment, student loan and infinite credit card debt, and would open up the world of fancy designer shoes and pretty gowns Sophie always dreamed of.

But why would he do that?

Tedros was, again, young, rich, successful and handsome. He hardly expressed any special affection towards Sophie or had the usual lovesick look most of Sophie's victims sported when they found themselves bewitched by her. They didn't really agree on much, from what Agatha gathered on their conversations, had no shared interests, lived completely different lifestyles, had different moral values and overall didn't seem to have the grandiose connection Sophie spoke of at all. Maybe he was with her because she was pretty? But again, why. There werw thousands of pretty girls willing to date young rich men, why Sophie in particular?

Something about this seemed off. She needs to talk to Sophie.

…When she recovered.

.

.

.

Alright, maybe it was conspiracy. The wedding was in two days.

Two days.

She supposes time does go by quickly when you're procrastinating something you really, really don't want to do. Nearly two weeks gone by in a flash. And, as she should, Agatha finally gets herself together. She is going to tell Sophie.

Well, she was going to tell Sophie. The blonde and a few of her friends were at The Woods for a last girl's night out. Meaning:

Sophie was currently drunk.

But maybe she wasn't?

She probably was though. Sophie was the most lightweight person Agatha knew, likely because she was so skinny. Girl could not hold her alcohol and drunk-Sophie was messy-Sophie. Unwilling, untamable and unimaginably difficult to have a coherent conversation with.

But, maybe she wasn't drunk? Agatha was not going to risk it.

She forces herself to hurry. She doesn't change out of her work outfit (merely discarding the suit's jacket), stopping by her house to feed Reaper and leave some important documents. Agatha even nearly forgets to lock her front door, calling a car to the club, hoping it might not be too late to come clean. But she was late anyway, as proven not only by the 15 bucks that left her wallet (for the second time this month) but by-

"Aggieeeee! You're better! Have you taaaasted this? It's amaziiiing!"

Agatha glares at Chaddick, who has the decency to look away. He knew the amount of alcohol Sophie was capable of processing, namely: none.

"Yeah, I have…"

"You should have seen, Sophie; the other night Agatha was so wasted she ma…"

"Chaddick, don't you have somewhere to be? As in, not here?"

The ex-jock walks away with a smirk, knowing he had some nice blackmailing material on her. Could this get any more horrible?

Now what? Should she just take Sophie home? Sober her up, tell her everything then beg for forgiveness? She couldn't. Then what to do, what to do…

"Sophie, I have to tell you something, it's really important, you see…"

"Oh Aggie, I'm sure you can tell me laaaaaatteerrrr! I've been so stressed lately! Time to let it goooo! Come on, I'll even pay your first drinkkkk!"

Her friend lifted a glass of what looked and smelled like a vodka and gin disaster waiting to happen.

"Sophie, what is even that?"

"Not sure…but Chaddick told me it was good."

Agatha sighs. She should tell the truth, right here, right now, shouldn't she?

"… Alright."

And she would have if she were a better person. But to her shame, she downs five more after the first and suddenly she can't remember why she came here on the first place. Something about a guy?

(Lies, Agatha knows exactly what she is doing, but for a few more hours she gives herself the benefit of the doubt.)

Whatever, she'll just deal with it later. She hasn't said anything for the past few days, surely it can wait some more, right?

.

.

.

Said and done, five hours later Agatha concludes she is a horrible human being. She should just quit. Leave the job of human being for people who will not mess up. Like Hester. Hester never messes up shit. Yeah, great plan.

Sophie is knocked out cold, sleeping with her face in a table, drooling, besides said Hester, who has her usual judgy face on, glaring at the blonde woman, like she was some kind of disgusting creature.

Agatha doesn't think she could feel worse.

She should have just told Sophie the truth right away. The moment she found out Tedros was, well, Tedros. Instead she had gone along with a wedding that was sure to be a fiasco, because not only was the groom a liar and a player, but Agatha was therefore his accomplice, and her silence was probably the greatest betrayal of their entire friendship.

She picks up her phone to call a car, so she could at the very least wallow in misery at home, but before the app even loads someone snatches her phone.

Turns out she can indeed feel worse.

"We need to talk."

His voice sounds as it always does whenever she's around, half-annoyed and half-something else Agatha doesn't dare name. As usual, he looks nice. His tight shirt and tie are still in perfect place, unlike the last time she saw him here, signaling he too probably came straight from work.

"This is girl's night; you're not allowed here."

"Oh, I'm not?" Tedros mocks her, but she can tell his heart isn't truly in it. "Then please do tell me the circumstances in which I can talk to you, because you sure don't make it easy."

She is so tired. Trying to avoid him is hard enough, trying to avoid him knowing that she doesn't really want to is impossible. She has always read people so well, and he always seems so genuine. It makes her wanna believe he is not the bad person she knows he is.

"…I've been… avoiding you. It's not that I don't want to talk to you. Is just… that I shouldn't," she hesitates but ends up answering honestly.

Tedros' expression softens at her candor, peering at her with concern.

"Are you drunk?"

"No. Maybe."

He sighs, then digs his car keys from his pocket, still holding her phone hostage on his other hand.

"Look, I'll give you a ride home. I really just wanna talk. We have…unfinished business."

Agatha considers. All this wedding-baloney made her poor, Tedros is so pretty, he looks so wholesome and honest, and she just wants to sulk at home for the next few hours. Maybe he could stay for a day or two. That shirt of his would look great on her floor…

No, bad idea.

"I don't wanna get into a stranger's car," she blurts out the first excuse her mind can manage. In retrospect, that was some obvious bullshit, seeing as they had talked for hours last week and he had already given her a ride before. Granted, it had been Sophie's car and Sophie had been there, but still, that didn't make much sense.

"Oh truly?" he holds up her phone, the ride app now open, "You're gonna pull that one on me?"

It's Agatha's turn to sigh.

"Okay don't go using logic on me, mister. For all I know, you could be planning on kidnapping me and selling my organs on the black market," or worse, actually talking to her.

"Can never be too careful, can we?" he looks partly amused and partly annoyed. "Look, I'm serious here, okay? I'm not going to do anything to you, we can talk to Hester on our way out, I'm sure she'll hunt me and string me up upside down at her soundproofed basement in case I even dream of harming you. Alright?" Tedros's eyes never leave her face in the twenty seconds she takes to decide, and it's really distracting, but she manages to answer:

"Okay, fine."

They talk to Hester, rather, Tedros talks to Hester while Agatha avoids her gaze shamefully. Why does Tedros know Hester? Did they ever talk during school?

Agatha doesn't know and she doesn't ask. Her gaze lingers on Sophie's drooling face and she feels her chest tighten.

The two of them walk into the parking lot awkwardly, in mortifying silence, and enter a silver Porsche. Agatha notes that it looks very out of place, since most cars belonged to employees and looked rather humble next to the silver beauty. Why was Tedros here? He came in his car, so he was not here to drink. Did Sophie tell him to pick her up? Or was he here to see Agatha?

Her heart skips at beat at the thought and she doesn't ask him any of this either.

"Nice ride," she offers instead.

"Thanks."

Tedros drives in silence, with Agatha occasionally telling him to turn on certain streets. She keeps her gaze on the empty roads, but she does catch quite a stunning sight of his profile when she forgets she's not supposed to look at him at all.

To avoid getting too in her head, she decides to turn on the radio. The song that starts playing is familiar and she guesses the radio must be on CD mode. The letters in bold red on the visor tell her she is correct, and this is indeed the song she thinks it is.

"You're into this kind of stuff?"

Tedros grips the wheel, almost defensively.

"They're really good, okay? I've been listening to them for a few years and so far, they're my favorite band. I know their sound isn't for everyone and-"

"I know."

"…It's not what most mainstream artists are doi- you what?"

Agatha blushes when she feels his incredulous gaze on her face, and it occurs her that this is the first time he looks directly at her since they got into his car. She hopes he'll attribute the redness on her cheeks to the red light they're currently stuck at and hesitates before answering, in a quiet voice, meeting his stare:

"They're my favorite band too."

"Oh."

The rest of the drive is less awkward, one would even say comfortable if not for the leftover tension. They sing along quietly to the vocalist and Agatha is sure Tedros stopped himself from doing the guitar once. Not cute, not cute, not cute.

Eventually, they get to her apartment building. She reaches over and turns off the radio, the deafening silence almost too much to bear.

Agatha tries reaching for the car door, but it's locked.

"I did tell you we needed to talk."

Usually, she'd be scared if a guy trapped her in his car in the middle of the night, but Agatha's frustration just comes back at full force and topples over anything else.

"What's to talk, you're clearly into someone else."

Tedros' eyes go big, and Agatha can't help but think he must be the world's greatest actor. Oscar nomination performance. The academy is shook-

"What? Did you, like, not hear anything I sa-"

"I'm not that kind of girl, Tedros," Agatha interrupts him firmly, "I don't hook up with anyone who's in a relationship, especially in a relationship with my best friend, no matter how stupidly short said relationship may be."

"I… Did Sophie tell you-"

"She didn't need to? You guys are engaged, and I am not going to get caught in between, okay? Please, please leave me alone. Don't talk to me. Don't look at me. Don't give me rides when I'm drunk."

Suddenly, Tedros' confused expression is gone and his eyes are gleaming with what looks like joy. He looks like he might kiss her and Agatha is not sure how well her defenses will hold in case he does.

"Agatha, I think you got this all wrong, I'm not-"

"What, you have amnesia? Or, let me guess, it's your twin brother who's engaged to her?"

Tedros burst out laughing and he sounds like an angel, throwing his head back, and Agatha forgets for a second that she's mad at him. But eventually reality brings her back and she pushes him, with just enough force to get his attention.

"Leave me the fuck alone, dude."

…Asshole.

This time when she reaches for the door, it's unlocked.

She glares at him from the sidewalk one more time, before entering the building.

.

.

.

Agatha doesn't hear a word from him after that.

It's for the best, she tells herself. Agatha spent so much time wishing he would just go away and take these weird feelings he gives her with him that she didn't even consider that once he did go away for real, new, stronger, and even more angsty feelings would appear. She only knew him for two weeks. He wasn't even hers. She has no grieving rights.

She goes out with Sophie one more time, and now it's just the two of them. It would be the perfect time to tell her. She has no excuses. No drinking, no sickness, no Tedros-

Agatha doesn't.

.

.

.

Today is the day.

It's a clear summer night, which is unfair with how angsty and conflicted Agatha feels. Hollywood lied to us all, hasn't it?

Agatha is dressed in a silky blue dress Sophie chose for her. It suits her and she thinks she looks quite pretty. Someone who actually knew what they were doing did her make-up, and for once she managed to tame her hair into submission, putting it into a fancy-looking up-do youtube taught her how to do. She's wearing her best shoes and her fanciest earrings. Agatha is looking and smelling like a daydream outside the main room of the church, but her hands are shaking and she's terrified.

She's not ready. Far from it really.

The rules were simple. If you're not the bride you don't wear white, you don't overdrink, and you never, ever, under any circumstances, fall in love with the groom.

No matter if they were hot, if they smelled good, if their eyes made you feel weak at the knees, if they shared common interests with you, if their taste was impossible to forget, if they went out of their way to get your attention or if they felt like they just might be the one.

You just didn't okay?

Shit, this was messed up. Still, Agatha brought herself to breathe deeply, trying to contain her anxiety.

The ceremonialist tells her it's her cue and she's soon walking down the aisle, clutching a small bouquet of pink carnations like a lifeline, looking around the church.

The place is crowded. Their entire social circle and their grandmother seem to be here. People from their childhood neighborhood, people from school, both of Sophie's parents, her stepmother and step siblings, quite a few models and influencers and a bunch of people she had never seen, probably Tedros' friends, family and co-workers.

The flowers and decorations look as amazing and beautiful as she would have expected from Sophie and she might have seen Hester, Anadil and Dot on a row somewhere, but that's not what made her almost freeze, nearly stumbling on the red carpet.

The groom.

He's wearing an expensive-looking white tuxedo, his hair is an unnatural platinum blonde and his eyes are disturbingly intense. He's tall, sharp and everything about him screams fancy. He's attractive in the way some snakes are attractive, beautiful and deadly, but the big deal is:

Agatha has never seen that man in her entire life.

She goes to her spot standing by the side, her brain running a marathon, tons of data just being tossed aimlessly on her mind as she tries to wrap her head around what the actual fuck is going on when her eyes meet someone else's.

Seating on the third row on the left, Tedros' blue eyes are shinning in complete and absolute amusement, his hand is over his mouth in a barely controlled laugh. The music seems to be on his side, because no one hears him. Agatha schools her expression into anything other than the overbearing wrath she feels, but she's not sure if she's doing a good job.

She's somewhat aware of the chaos that seems to be unfolding around her; the ceremonialist's screeching, the groom's rage, the crowd's confused mumbling and Sophie's absence. But it does not matter.

Agatha really wants to choke Tedros with his tie.

.

.

.

Turns out, Sophie's groom was named Rafal. Not that Agatha would remember his name a few days from now.

He is the current CEO of Two Brothers, a huge company, often associated with the mafia for fucks sake. Known playboy and womanizer, with a criminal record for drug dealing, as well as physical and sexual assault. Also, partially involved on the illegal leaks of information that caused the media scandal around Tedros' parents' divorce all those years ago, she later learns.

Great guy, Sophie. 10/10. Husband material right there.

At least she didn't follow through, Agatha argues to try and calm herself down. Oh yeah, Sophie ran away from her own wedding. No one was surprised honestly. Maybe Rafal. He looked very, very angry. Agatha didn't really blame him, after knowing that he was the one paying for the wedding, after party and honeymoon, no matter how horrible of a person he seems to be.

By now, Sophie should be in Paris, enjoying her honeymoon tickets and reservations. Through text, she tells Agatha how lonely and sad she is and how she'll tell her everything that happened in complete details on their next café meeting in a about month and a half. Agatha suspects she is not as lonely as she claims to be because Hort's Instagram stories tell her he is currently in Europe as well, if not in Paris. But then again, she will not concern herself over this matter. "No wedding" was good news enough to keep her in a great mood for any of Sophie's shenanigans for the next following weeks.

And since the reception was already paid for, everyone just decided to come enjoy it.

Yes, when she says everyone, she means everyone.

"Hey, you."

Oh, Lord, no.

Agatha doesn't lift her head to look at him, continuing to type a half-assed reply to Sophie's whiny texts. She won't give him the satisfaction. Instead she downs whatever is left of her whisky, because that's what one does when courage lacks.

She's sitting at the main table of the ballroom, by herself, mostly because it's where she's been assigned to sit, but also because she's not up for the questions the other guests will probably feel entitled to ask if she were to sit with them. Hester is nowhere in sight, but Agatha is sure she's making herself scarce on purpose. She saw Chaddick back at the church but they politely ignored each other and Dot had been missing for quite a while.

"Not speaking to me?"

"No."

"Come on, it was pretty funny."

"No, it wasn't," she finally looks up at him and he must have sensed true resentment in her perfectly lined brown eyes, because his smug, perfect façade crumbled, and he looked very awkward suddenly. Tedros pulls up the chair beside her and she notices it has his name on it. Sophie was not being subtle on her matchmaking at all, was she?

God, Agatha was so dumb.

"Well, it wasn't very funny to me either then, but I do laugh quite a bit now," he offers, sipping on champagne, trying to keep busy.

"I'm glad my pain amuses you," she's quiet for few seconds, considering what she's going to say. "Tedros?"

"Yeah?" he looks up from his flute of champagne, hopeful blue eyes shining in the half light of the candlelit ballroom and keeping her from saying what she was actually going to say, so instead she blurts:

"I'm not sorry for punching you."

"I didn't expect you to be," his smile is friendly and contagious. He downs the last of his champagne and extends a hand to her. "Okay, let's start again. I'm Tedros, I'm so single it hurts, and when we were in high school, I had a crush on you."

The way he says this so openly, his voice so even and clear nearly drowns out the vulnerable look on his face. Agatha herself can barely register his expression because she's pretty sure her brain has short-circuited. Again.

"No, you did not."

"But I did."

Tedros proceeds to tell her all sorts of things.

He tells her about how he first saw her as a rival because of her grades (she never really paid any attention to the scoreboard, she thought it was bullshit, but in retrospect she does remembers his name was always under hers), and about how sorry he was that he laughed and partook at Chaddick's antics during junior year, mostly because he the felt like 'the new guy with a big name and no friends' and felt she was a threat.

"That's some real introspection and self-awareness right there, hm"

"I'm just fortunate enough to have had a really good therapist," Tedros responds, "Merlin is like a psychology-wizard. He was the one who kinda sorted out that maybe part of my teen angst was repressed attraction to someone who fed the cats behind the library"

"Oh, then you've been my stalker for quite some time then."

Tedros blushes and Agatha is both flattered and embarrassed at the same time.

He then explains about how shit blew up on his face during his parents' divorce, how his grades dropped, how he got kicked out of the football team and how he started to spend a long ass time sulking at the library. Which just so happened to be Agatha's favorite hangout spot at the time. Tedros tells her how he thought she was cute, how she was one of the people who hadn't changed with him (even if unintentionally) and how he wanted to get to know her.

What.

"I just… wasn't sure how to approach you? I always dragged Chaddick to your tea shop when I didn't see you at the library but then chickened out and-"

"...I take neither of you were huge tea fans?"

"Yeah?"

"That does explain a lot," Agatha mumbles.

"I was going to talk to you about Avalon when I heard you were going there, but… Since you didn't tell me that, I kinda found out when Chaddick took your math notebook to be my 'wingman', I didn't think you would have…appreciated.

"Wait, that was Chaddick playing your wingman?" Agatha burst out laughing.

"The plan was that I was supposed to casually hand back to you something you forgot, but he kinda grew tired of waiting for you to actually forget something," Tedros chuckled. "If you thought Chaddick was bad then what big word is Miss-best-in-class going to use to describe Sophie's take on playing wingwoman?"

"Horrendous," Agatha deadpans and now it's Tedros turn to laugh.

Silence sits between the two. It's not uncomfortable and kinda welcome. Agatha digests the last forty minutes of enlighting conversation as they eat the main course of the night. A waiter comes to pick up both of their plates and she decides she still has some questions.

"Well, do you still do?"

"Do I still what?" Tedros questions, his head slightly inclined, like a confused puppy.

"Have a crush on me," Agatha mumbles, her cheeks burning.

Tedros' expression goes from 'confused' back to that mischievous look he had back at the church, leaning towards her ever so slightly.

"Maybe."

"Good," she offers her hand, as he had before, "I'm Agatha, I jump to conclusions, but I am very interested in getting to know you."

Tedros however, doesn't shake her hand as she had his. Instead, he takes it to his lips, pressing a light kiss to her knuckles, relishing in the shocked look on her face before she can school her expression back to unaffected aloofness.

"Are you free at six next friday?"

"Late meeting, but I'm good at seven. Pick me up?" she asks, an unspoken challenge laced in her words.

"As the lady wishes." Challenge accepted. "Any preferences?"

"Anywhere but 'The Woods'. But make sure to text me first if it's somewhere fancy," she smiles. "You know what? I still don't have your number."

Tedros confidently stands up, his hand yet to release hers.

"A number for a dance?"

Agatha told him that night at 'The Woods' that she isn't a very good dancer but again, he insists. It's fine, because they don't dance for long anyway. By the time Tedros gives up, fumbling with his phone to call a car, his hair is already a mess, Agatha's broke free from her up-do and there is lipstick everywhere.

I'm not sorry This was so much fun to revisit. I forgot how fun SGE was. I kinda fell out of touch with the series. I did read QFG, I just can't remember what happens in it? Idk. I felt the series should have concluded on TLEA. If possible before the whole Agatha and Sophie baloney stunt, because I never bought that. Please leave me comment and share your thoughts with me! Hope you are all safe during this quarantine, friends

[rgr-pop]

LONG POST AIRING GRIEVANCES ABOUT DUMB SHIT IN BEAUTY COMMUNITY!! 

oh my GOD. okay, so, small youtuber who is climbing. beloved by many small youtubers because she is a regular girl and very nice and FROM UPSTATE NEW YORK and has social justice interests, she also posts a lot of drama content and some people (including me tbh) really like the way she kind of ~~democratizes drama content. don’t @ me it’s whatever. reddit HATES her because her mother buys her a lot of makeup for her birthday (literally) and she is not into self-punishing no-buys which is the only thing people like right now very coincidentally (going on a no-buy is apparently how you end landfills).

this youtuber is fat and not conventionally pretty--I really hate even saying the latter because it is objectively not true and also an evil thing to say even nicely, but for example she is always talking about how she doesn’t really care that her lips are small and is not interested in overdrawing or “fixing” them, and getting flamed for it. in the community (the respectable arm of it, which is the rddt, where we are ostensibly not allowed to be like “she looks terrible”), where there is smoke there is fire, and “not skilled at makeup” + maybe some nebulous complaints about whininess = she is a fat girl, end her. (”rude” = black youtuber too much power, end her.)

i’m talking about sm*key gl*w whose name is hannah, hannah #1, i think it is interesting to contrast her with the other hannah that i talk about sometimes--i try not to talk about her too much because we sort of teechnically have real world social connections and, also, i just feel bad for her. i feel desperately bad for hannah #2, because she is in her thirties having lived in art communities and global urban centers but for the first time in her life having to reckon with things like--”it is not appropriate to talk about calories at dinner, etc.” that is the second hannah, and while she is sweet and interesting to many in the small youtube community precisely because she is very alien to them (has mfa), it’s very difficult to watch, and sometimes i think she is the most “toxic” youtuber i follow. she is not an originator in any way, but she found herself in the center of a so-called anticonsumerist movement in small beautube that is kind of taking over, which is related to but not exactly minimalism--you have probably heard me talk about this already, at length. a good example of this is that second hannah recently said in a video that she was thinking of doing a shopping “fast.” i don’t know how she became this person, and how she held onto this kind of personality in spite of being in lots of communities that i am also in or have friends in where i know that if you talked this way about dieting etc. at a social event, someone would probably softly scold you. she somehow insulated herself from this kind of learning, i don’t know, then she threw herself into beautube where a woman who maybe sort of likes art and writes poetry and has heard of “fair trade” before is an absolute anomaly, but that community--like literally, where people do liposuction and skinny teas!--has only encouraged this absolutely unreal nasty and BAD behavior. etc. i have a lot of feelings about this.

so first hannah is a fat girl who is not rich--we will get to that!--but spends her money primarily on makeup. people HATE her. second hannah is thin, possibly rich in family origin (i think she is) but basically your average working artist in life. she frames her so-called overconsumption not even precisely as an addiction but specifically as a lack of willpower that she also struggles with when it comes to sometimes eating sugar (really). both of these hannahs consume and talk about quite a lot of luxury makeup--second hannah is very openly committed to luxury purchase as part of her self-conception. second hannah sometimes goes on “shopping diets” though, so people praise her! it is evil. 

above is the shit i hate day in and day out but the points below will have more to do with the screencap +...upstate new york, i guess. henceforth we are only talking about first hannah.

so this girl is from some kind of small town around rochester or syracuse--something up there. iirc she goes to a suny school i had never heard of (i looked it up and it is a “suny comprehensive college,” though i can’t remember if she transferred out of this school to a bigger school. but, as many of you know, sunys are cheap as hell and should be protected at all costs, this school costs well under half what my state school did, for residents anyway.) she is in her mid-twenties and not graduated yet, due to struggles she has had (and spoken openly about) as well as having gone to community college. they LOVE to bring up how she is too old to be a college student! she’s like...idk 24 or something. she is going to school to be a social worker in one of those accelerated programs, which she has found quite difficult (again, spoken openly about this) and which also requires, as many of you know!, lots of extra work, unpaid and paid. she said somewhere that she does not have student loans, but i don’t know if her parents paid for her college or just shouldered loans, or if she paid for it, or if it is all financial aid. (”not having student loans” is something that enrages people, ESPECIALLY when someone doesn’t have loans because they got need-based aid.) again, she probably had some financial catastrophes due to school failures (speaking from experience here), but: sunys is cheap as hell and there are a million reasons why someone could go to one and not be struggling with loans!

where was i...her parents. watching this has fascinated me! her dad was a school teacher and her mom is a social worker--absolutely public servant middle class. i thiiink (could be wrong) that her father retired already and ended up retiring from a principalship, so they were probably extremely comfortable by the time she was in college, but they are definitionally middle class. the biggest controversy around this youtuber is that for birthdays and christmas her mother goes fucking insane--probably spent two to four hundred dollars on her for her birthday. she talks about this all the time: her mother and her are very close and their hobby is shopping. people treat this like the bougiest fucking thing on earth and it is ba nanas. straight up, this girl has probably never even HEARD of anthropologie. listen, i can’t afford to live like her either but i recognize poor shopping when i see it. working class people like to blow their money on bullshit and to take issue with that is demonstrably racist and classist! i will not hear this conversation over again in 2019. for example, hannah made a video about her “high end bag” collection, in which she said she got a bcbg bag on sale for like $30 but had never heard of the brand before. she had once been gifted a kate spade bag and her DREAM was to purchase one on her own. she buys coach at the local coach outlet, which is a regional attraction. THIS GIRL IS NOT BOUGIE! THEY ARE JUST MAD THAT SHE OWNS CLOTHES AND IS ALSO FAT! she did a closet tour where she talked about how she has like 50 crop tops, they were ALL like forever 21. they are just mad about fat girl in crop tops. there is nothing to see here! does she have too much shit, and shop too much? sure. welcome to flyover country you dumb bitches. that is what I think about that!

so, she definitely makes money on youtube, but mostly enough to sustain youtube and makeup buying (possibly some savings? unsure. i know she said this in a video but i forget.) she has lived with this boyfriend of hers for a number of years and they are building a life together that doesn’t immediately include marriage, probably largely for financial reasons. i get the sense that his jobs pay a lot of their bills, but he just finished getting a teaching MA of some kind (i think he is a math teacher? i already forgot) and is entering the regular teaching job market. based on some of the following i think his parents might be wealthier than hers but i think they might also be teachers. as you can see in the screenshot above, people are enraged at this girl for apparently being a gold digger for getting a house with him before they are married! 

people are SO pissed that she was “able to buy a house” at age 25, but they did not watch the video! in which she said that they had been dealing with the death of her bf’s step grandpa all year, and the family had decided that they should take over the step grandpa’s house. (step grandpa’s family does sound “richer” because, according to her, this house had been owned by a GREAT grandparent and paid off decades ago.) her descriptions of this house are confusing to me because she keeps referring to it as both “old” and “from the eighties,”; I think it is an actually old house that had not been “updated” since the eighties. seems like the family did not “gift” it to them as much as sign it over to them in exchange for them being the ones to take out the renovation loans, which allegedly she said are $50k. unclear to me if she and her bf got approved for that loan--probably not, I think it was taken out in the family’s name. ($50k is too much to put into a house in rochester imooo but I am reserving my judgment there! rochester has a very flyover housing economy, much like ours, but with a much higher end, I think?)

so anyway, these vultures are sociopaths. “ Who gives someone a house no matter how much they like them? That seems wild to me” ...p-parents? dead grandparents? is your will gonna be like “my kid has to buy their OWN house like i did!” who are these people

YES SOMETIMES YOU STOP NEEDING YOUR HOUSE, WHEN YOU DIE

anyway I’m done. I just thought this thing would be of interest in particular to the upstate new yorkers. the whole condition of the indebted working-middle class is just like inconceivable to people who consume only ideologically pure content by wealthy west coast whites all day long 

[anyu-blue]

🥀

Tevellon(aka Tevie): omg Meek! You have so much in your account!!! Why are you so worried??? 😂😂😂 Why can't you buy the ($800) package for yourself for your birthday, omg? 😂😂😂

Me:

....

$1,755, yeah?

Let's see...

$860- rent

$300- cellphone bill

$300- Power Bill

$56- Water bill

$75- internet bill

$75- cat care bill

$40- collection agency bill (from bumping a car 2 or 3 years ago)

$10- homeowners insurance.

...

Normally I have a $65 bill for student loans too, but luckily they're still furloughed for the moment. So...

That leaves me with $39 left over.

Tevellon: O-oh haha 😅

Me: I CAN'T afford the gift I wanted... Or any of them, really.

Tevellon: But the stimulus-!

Me: I checked to see why mine has been delayed... There's nothing- system can't find me. So it possible I won't be getting it- and look what happened at the capital today. Think the delays are going to stop?

Tevellon: But-

Me: And besides, I've been told I'm losing my hours soon- the co-worker I'm covering for is feeling better. IF I get anything I need to be prepared to save it for bills for the month I'll be scrambling to find something/work.

Tevellon: ... I forgot rent needed to pull... But I get paid this Friday! You can-

Me: No. I appreciate your offer, but you know I have my reasons. Bills. Nothing more.

Tevellon: Meek-

Me: We've been through this. Enough. I'm done talking to you.

~~~~

Tevie has recently (as in at the beginning of December) also decided she's done paying for groceries for everyone (I don't blame her, I wouldn't want to pay for my new diet of vitamins and expensive/better food either. $100 a week adds up) and has been having a ball with her stimulus buying Valentine's day gifts for everyone besides me (I'm too picky, don't like Valentine's day, and have a low key anger when she spends so MUCH money so easily near me that it's put her off I feel)...

W0lf.exe, our younger sister, already has plans to spend any extra she makes/gets on continuing to upgrade her computer.

And they wonder why I bristle all the time when buying shit comes up. Or why I get so nervous when MY funds are low.

Tevie cannot fathom not buying stupid stuffed animals and marked up food and shit Evey God damned week either- which is where all her damn money goes I feel. Gods.. HOW many new Elsa dolls has she gotten in the last month? And TY stuffies? She brought home 4 in the last two days!!! These things are NOT cheap!! And she has DOZENS sitting on boxes in her room- recently bought a 8 cubbie bookshelf shelf to put up JUST for those stuffies she has so many!! She already has one filled to overflowing with books, one with DVDs, and one spilling over with figurines. Her video games are stacked under her tv because she's go no place for them on any other shelf!!

She has $200 in her account right now. Someone who makes over 11/hr (it's more than that but idk how much higher. I THINK she's up to $13/hr but we'll go with $11/hr) and gets at LEAST 3 hours of overtime a week (time and a half) means she gets oooh... 1,602 a month after taxes with those figures?

Her bills and groceries (which I've highballed/added together at the maximum they ever are) come out to $1,105 a month.... Sooo... $297 from regular pay AND the $600 she JUST got.. just.. GONE. SPENT. NOTHING to show for it. (And a reminder that she definitely makes more than I added up here so she's actually spent more than that too.. yeah)

I get it. I do. I've got the problem too of Oo! Has moneys! Buy the things before you'll never be able to again! ... It's why I was even LOOKING at a birthday gift for myself. A high quality long lasting investment at that... But I can settle for something under $10 for myself/as a gift for someone else at the end of the month if I can afford it. I've done it for long enough. Literally every other penny goes to food and bills. That $10 at the end of the month for something extra is designed to help me keep my sanity.. SOMETHING to look forward to. I don't work much due to my struggles, so I don't have much to play with or save.

I'm glad they're happy on some level too because I do get it... And it's their money to do exactly what it is they please with. They spent more than enough time working for it.

But it still PISSES ME OFF that neither of my sisters ACTUALLY pay attention and just spend spend spend all their money away so long as they have enough for bills (which they wait until their last paycheck of the month to have together-- do you KNOW how BAD that is?! Especially if something happens and you can't or don't work as much as I'd needed?!)

...

There's many reasons everyone thinks I'm the eldest. I do carry my stress less gracefully than my siblings, but I also have the knowledge and the haunt of it truly weighing on me. Luckily my sisters don't... Even if it leads to their doom or stress in the end, because they haven't experienced it yet... They're happy now. On top of the world.

I've told them my feelings and why I think what they do is in bad taste, more or less. I've offered my money management AND economical cooking services to both who have complained they never have anything saved up, always are buying expensive food at work, and don't know how to get what they want as well as save (it's possible, believe me!).. Tevie even asked for help once! I told her just to bring me what she wanted help with and I'd break it down for her as best I could.... Well she never did. And now refuses to because I 'need to just focus on [me] and not worry about anybody else.'

Bitch... YOU AND YOUR SPENDING PROBLEMS DO NOT HELP WITH MY STRESS AND ISSUES I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW.

It's whatever.. just on my mind today. Not technically my problem.. but I'm mad that promised help and safety nets are actually non-existent.

We're CLEARLY FINE. Please don't fret. We're fine. We'll always be 'fine' thanks to someone else willing to help when things are dire at the very least...

It's just... If we ALL were as damned careful as I am (I know I HAVE to be because of my issues- issues they don't have).. and heck even willing to share as has been promised (I DO share whatever I can, but at the moment I'm HEAVILY considering retracting my sharing because.. well... Food is expensive.. and now I'm not getting help to pay for it on top of it all.. and don't want to starve because I'm allergic to what my sisters like to whim buy... So...)... We'd be GREAT even..

But they're not. They don't want to be or have personal reasons to be very careful.

So here we are.

...

I don't want to admit this because it looks bad.. but I feel it's important to.

In my stress I've regressed into not using my lights the last few weeks. Tevie talking with me and being so.. ignorant of costs has only made me wish to be MORE careful.

I've got old candles and lighters and stuff, my phone on battery saver for moving around, and two (maybe 3 if I can find the other one) old dollar store push button lights when I'm too tired to deal with fire or waste my phone's battery... Turned down my little basement heater too. I'd turn it off entirely, but I know that would probably kick our forced air heating system up even just a little bit. Also being more careful with my water consumption. Small baths and rinses rather than regular showers, plus being careful when flushing is needed... Just to try and see if I can help our bills be a tiny fraction lower.

This was something I did as a kid and teenager when my mother would yell and scream about the bills. And when her Ex would berate us for leaving a light on in a room for a second while we went to grab something or something. The light thing only stopped when I got yelled at for being in the bathroom in the dark too much which meant people walked in on me a lot. Don't have to worry about that here because I've got my own.

If that stimulus doesn't come through for me either and my hours drop, I feel I'll probably sell my PS4 if I feel I need to. It wasn't something I actually wanted at all- just something Lon wanted me to have- and not a single person has used it since the end of October so... It's not really important at all. I'm tempted to sell my computer because it's worth at least $1,000 (custom build, all new parts from my ex), but I know I'll get kicked in the teeth for that one because I do use it and have such a nice desk for it. So PS4 and VR it is if it comes down to it.

I know how crazy and awful I sound. I do. I know. Especially Because we ARE fine right now... But this is where I'm at again mentally. And I have to deal with it on my own because everyone else gets sick of it and my stubbornly refusing nice things when my funds start to or threaten to dwindle. (I'd rather have $800 in the bank than a new gadget, Tevie 😠 take the hint!!)

I know we're 'fine'. I know Tevie gets mad at me when I start selling things instead of asking her to spend her money on my bills... But... Honestly.. with the trauma I have gone through and can't seem to stop going through, it's my defense. It's what I've got.

Tevie is EXACTLY as guilty as everyone else in our lives for being super DUPER pissed when asked for help. When her livelihood is threatened. So I don't WANT to bother even if I need to.

If someone doesn't want to spend their money on something or someone... They're going to get pissy and maybe, just maybe.. hold it over your damn head. It's why I feel so stuck all the time... Hyper independence and all that...

[sending-the-message]

I Went Looking for an Adventure on the Dark Web by Sinister-Intentions

Hi, my name is Jacob. My life hadn’t gone the way I’d expected it or rather my future hadn’t been what I’d hoped. When I was in college my whole life revolved around school and work. If I wasn’t on the computer writing some program I was in class or tutoring. If I wasn’t doing any of those things I was helping out at the help desk of our school. Either way I had no life outside of class and work, mainly because I told myself that I would focus on the fun parts of life when I had a degree and decent paying job. Right now I needed to earn all of that.

When school finally ended I was in a panic to get a decent job because I knew not soon after uncle sam would come calling for me to pay back all the student loans I’d taken out. Suffice it to say that I wasn’t being very picky and really just applied for anything that paid a decent amount of money. I didn’t even care if it was related to my computer science major, just that it would pay the bills.

I finally found a job with a small web development company which seemed to be the big dream I was hoping for. It paid great, my coworkers were excellent, my hours were flexible, and work was fun enough. There was an itch in the back of my mind that I couldn’t quite scratch though. Was this it? Was this the life I had given up my early 20’s for? I got up in the morning and worked out. I’d get dressed and go to work. Then for 8 or more hours I would work on different code banks and polish up different websites, before sluffing off back to my new apartment to eat, sleep, and repeat.

I tried going out with friends, going to bars and parties, taking walks, all the things you are supposed to do with a normal life, but none of it brought any excitement to me. I started taking inordinate risks when I was driving, caring less about how people perceived me when I talked with them, and ignoring friends and family.

You have to understand some things about me to really know what I was going through. For the better part of my life I had been regarded as a pretty strange kid. I was interested in the more occult and obscure parts of life, didn’t really care much for rules, stealing from other, breaking into houses in my youth, and lying like second nature. As I entered my teenage years I realized quickly that I couldn’t get away with these things anymore if I wanted to get ahead and decided to change a lot about myself. In essence I learned to wear a mask and got so good at it that I seemingly forgot I’d been wearing it for all these years. I had even fooled myself.

With the boredom and mediocrity of life after college settling in my mask was starting to wear loose and the creature from my youth was peeking out from behind it. I started frantically looking for things to satiate my growing need for thrill and excitement and my numbness to social norms grew even more deafening.

Working in computer I had heard of and used Tor on many occasions, the browser used to access the deep web, but had never been interested in anything it provided. At most it masked your identity and sacrificed speed, but at worst it was where the dredge of society lurked and for all my social ineptitude I knew I wasn’t anything like those people.

On my way home from work one day I was driving down the freeway as normal, but suddenly a guy cut me off and dodged in front of me almost causing me to crash. I slammed on my brakes and turned my steering wheel as hard as I could causing me to run off the side of the road into a ditch. My brakes and wheels no doubt took some heavy damage, but in general my car was ok.

The whole experience made my heart beat like it was young again and instead of being mad I remember I was almost excited by the thrill of it all. That’s when it occurred to me that I may have a use for the deep web after all. Like I had said it was where you could find all the dregs of society and while I sure wasn’t one, perhaps I needed someone who was willing to stoop to that level.

When I got home I downloaded Tor, and started researching different anonymous forums where I might be able to score a little action. To the more experienced users of the dark web I likely came off as a newbie going around poking his head into places that he knows nothing about, but I didn’t care, all I really needed was for just one person to be interested in guiding me through the gates of this underworld.

I posted a little thread here and there on any open forum I could find. ‘Looking for an adventure and something that will get my heart pumping like I’m alive again’. I provided a recently set up email and waited to see if I would get any replied. Many of my threads were taken down by moderators and those that weren’t found unsolicited spam, obvious virus links, or disgusting images sent to the email I had provided.

After a few days of no success I learned of a few chat rooms that I believed might be more helpful with my search. These would be live conversations so I wouldn’t have to wait for replies and they would hopefully be more welcoming to someone who didn’t know a lot about this kind of thing. After posting my normal ‘looking for adventure’ most of the rooms booted me, either as a newbie or believing I was a cop, but in my very last one I received a pop up to talk with one of the chat member privately, which I was more than happy to do.

There I was at my desk, nothing lighting the room but my computer monitor. Sitting in the darkness I chatted back and forth with this guy about my life and how I wanted something more interesting, risky, and fun. He said he’d met many people who’d stumbled onto this chat looking for the same and that he always liked helping them out. We talk for days about the different adventures he’d taken his past acquaintances on, but how each of them always wanted to return to their normal dull lives after a bit which left him to continue his search for that one buddy who wouldn’t leave.

The whole this sounded incredibly sad and stalkerish, which believe it or not didn’t frighten me away but left me more interested. I’m not naïve or stupid. I was talking with someone I’d met on a random dark web chat room. At the most harmless it was some old fat guy sitting on the other end spinning me a web of lies, but at most it really was someone dangerous and I wanted to find out for myself. I wanted him to be dangerous….because therein lies the thrill, which was my vendetta from the beginning of this little adventure into the dark web.

I got up the courage to ask him if he’d ever want to actually meet and go on one of his little trips just to see what his reaction would be, and of course he was more than happy. I learned that that he was only about 7 hours from me so I suggested we meet the next week and that I didn’t want to know any of the details, just that I wanted to have a fun time for a few days.

The days passed by quickly and the night before I was planning on making the trip I packed up all the things I thought I might need. Clothes and travel stuff, but also a few self defense item, a flashlight, and several burner phones. Loading it all in my trunk I started to get a rush then and there of what I was about to do. I was meeting up with a complete stranger in the middle of the night, putting myself in danger, and had no idea what the morning hours were going to bring. As I drove down the dark highway road, my lights beaming in front of me, I felt as alive as ever. The dull drudgery of my job, the boring routine of my life, it all just slipped away. Night and the passing cars gave a kind of quite and peace to my racing mind.

When I got to the town of my new friends address I really started to feel the excitement wash over me. I had given him the number of one of my burner phones and he texted me ‘are you almost here’. I didn’t reply as I knew I was and pulling over would have just taken more time. I winded up a road near the edge of the town, but definitely removed from public and prying eyes until I seen a house a little way in the distance. Pulling into the driveway the reality of what I was doing started to hit me and more than excited I began to feel scared.

My car lights shown strong against a large metallic garage door and I seen a shadow move across the bay windows of what looked to be a living room. I received another text. ‘come on in, the doors unlocked’ it said. I took a deep gulp and opened my car door, the beeping startling me as I’d forgotten to turn off the engine. Pulling the keys out I put a few between my knuckles and stepped out the seat onto the dirt, shutting the door behind me.

My heart was racing and my breath getting more labored. Every instinct I had was telling me to turn around and I looked back at my car, but I just kept moving forward. I heard every footstep I took in the dark night air and I slowly reached out to turn the handle on the old door, cracked paint funning down it and a rusty handle. Inside the garage a large white light hung from a cord in the center over two pick up trucks muddle and rusted from head to toe.

The place was very cluttered and I had to step along a narrow path until I reached a screen door just above a few steps. I kind of whispered to myself ‘you can just turn around, just go back’, but my adventurous and apathetic nature took over and I took a few steps up and through the screen door as it squealed shut.

Inside the house looked fairly normal, and I started to say “hello” into the room. “is anyone there?” I didn’t hear anything. I said it a few more times and started to walk forward into the living room I’d mentioned before. “I’m downstairs, just fixing the water heater” I heard come from behind me. “There’s a wrench on the table, would you mind bringing it to me”.

I sure as hell wasn’t going to do that. I wanted adventure, but wasn’t going to willingly walk into god knows what kind of trap in a completely locked off room downstairs. All of those instincts that I should have been listening to from the get go came roaring back to my attention and I immediately turned around to get the hell out of there.

Running up to the door I turned the handle but it refused to open. I started panicking and turned it so hard that it broke off the door. Just then I started to hear creaking like someone coming up the stairs and my heart didn’t race, it just stopped and calmed down. I turned around and remember the wrench sitting on the kitchen table. I picked the heave thing up and prepared to fight my way out if I needed to. Those giant bay windows were another way out this house. Quick like lightening I ran passed the door to the stairs where the voice and creaking came from and slammed the door shut as I did. I hoped onto the couch and bashed the windows with the wrench climbing through the broken shards of glass.

Climbing into my car as if there wasn’t a tomorrow I shoved the keys in the ignition and screeched out of the driveway, laying my foot into the pedal as hard as I could. After hours of berating myself on the long trip home the sun was starting to come up and felt some twinge of relief come over me. I was so tired from the whole night of events and after slinking into my apartment and out of my clothes I crawled into bed wanting to forget any of this craziness had ever happened. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later I woke up to a beeping on my computer, meaning I had a new message. I went over to the computer and seen that it was from my now former, never to actually meet, acquaintance. “why did you leave? We’d have had so much fun”. I didn’t reply, I just looked at the message and considered what my next move should be at this point. Another message came to the screen which left me shaken and cold. “your apartment looks so boring compared to what I had in store”. My webcam wasn’t on, so how on earth did he know what my apartment looked like? How the heck did he know where I even was? How did he ---.

That was the last thing Jacob told me before meeting a rather unfortunate accident. My basement really was much nicer than his apartment and I was so sad he couldn’t have stayed for long. All my friends always seem to leave me. I guess I’ll just need to find another. Tell me, have you ever thought of going on the dark web, I know somewhere you might like.

-Sinister Intentions

More...

[baby-onthe-brain]

Affording Baby

Originally Posted 12 March 2018

I’m not going to lie… This is the part that scares me the most. I’ve never been affluent, and there’s only one period in my life where I’ve been well off — a three-year stretch when I was a child myself. The topic of finances isn’t a comfortable one for me, and I’m routinely embittered about all the folks who seemingly have more than I do. 

Not necessarily material things, but also the experiences that financial freedom often grants. Things like routine travel expeditions, or not having to worry about going over your grocery budget and the successive awkwardness of having to ask the cashier to take some items off the bill. I’m trying to get better about it, especially since Rhys brought up a little while ago just how often I voice my opinions on it, but it’s still there in the back of my mind. I’m working on it.

I will not the first (nor will I be the last) to say that having kids is expensive. Really, really expensive. Children are a 20-year investment or longer, and you’d best be ready for the long haul (especially if the economy keeps going the way it is). Which is why when you’re actually planning for a baby, it’s a good idea to make sure you can actually afford one. Or two.

Or three. You know how it goes.

Now, I’m sure that you’re aware of the procession of mommy blogs out there that tell you “how to financially plan for a baby in 5 easy steps.” While these blogs are often repetitive and from an upper-middle-class perspective, they do have some useful advice. Some of the stuff I have to laugh at, like cutting down on routine unnecessary purchases (like mall trips or lattes) and setting that aside into a baby fund instead. Other stuff, though… That stuff is good.

One of the things that I’ve really taken to heart from my research is to accumulate essential baby things slowly over an extended amount of time. It would scar up anybody’s finances if you suddenly had to jam outfitting an entire nursery plus stock up food, and clothing, and diapers, and every other necessity under the sun into less than a year’s worth of paycheques. Getting the job done slowly ensures that you can do a little at a time, without the side effect of wincing whenever you see your bank statement. Well… As much, anyway.

I’ve been accumulating in earnest for a while now, and have been happy to discover that most of it can be gotten second-hand. This cuts down on costs incredibly, and I can help to reuse items that still have a good lifespan to them. Most of these financially-savvy mamas also recommend asking your friends and family for hand-me-downs, which I fully intend to do once I actually have a due date. Keep in mind that a baby shower, if you’re going to have one, will also help you accumulate smaller stuff. A friend of mine said that she didn’t have to worry about getting baby clothes because she’d gotten a whole stock of them as gifts. Score!

There is, of course, the necessity of actually looking at your finances. As I mentioned earlier, this is one of the scary parts for me. Rhys and I don’t exactly live in the lap of luxury; while we are comfortable, it’s an uneasy comfort that comes from a lot of organisation and budgeting. This is something we’ve earnestly taken to in recent months, revising our budget and figuring out down to the (useless) penny where our money is going and when. This new budget is still in its early stages, but it’s so far been helping immensely in making sure we can stay afloat and still get where we need to go.

One of the things that baby prep resources across the board (mommy blogs, books, web-based resources, etc.) have asserted is that you must reduce debt as much as possible. This to me is a no-brainer, but one that becomes rather difficult when you’re saddled with student loans you can’t pay out. My advice is to pay the smallest debt off first and work your way up. If you have a credit card, or somebody loaned you money, get those paid off first. Then, when you’ve gotten them out of the way, move the money you’ve been using to pay those off to the next smallest payment.

Of course, this entirely depends on how much you make, how much debt you have, and a whole slew of other things. I’m not a financial advisor by any means, so if you’re really in trouble financially, seek out help! There are hundreds of debt consolidation and consultation businesses available to you. For example, both Rhys and I are in the process of repayment assistance for our student loans, which means we don’t have to think about them right now. We wouldn’t be able to do anything about it anyway, but it’s nice to know that we’re not being thrown under the bus because we couldn't pay for our educations out of pocket.

One of the things that the baby prep book I’m reading (Rachel Pepper’s Ultimate Guide to Pregnancy for Lesbians) brought up is all the legal stuff you don’t really think about. Admittedly, I completely forgot to factor in stuff like wills, life insurance, and RESPs. Well… No, okay that’s a lie. I’ve had it in my head for years that the moment I conceive, I am going to open an RESP account for my baby. I don’t want them to have to suffer through student loans if I can help it. But, in the grand scheme of things when you’re already worrying about the money you’ll be spending on your little one in the coming months… Well. It’s a kick in the butt.

Thinking about things like your baby’s education when they’re not even born yet, or whether they’ll be able to get by if anything ever happens to you unexpectedly can be a bit of a stretch… But a necessary one. The book I mentioned before stresses how wills especially are important for LGBTQA+ couples, or other couples who underwent ART. The will is a legally binding document that makes your wishes known, and will hold up better in court, should the need arise, than a co-parenting agreement or a known-donor agreement. This is fundamental if you want your partner to have custody of your little one in the event of your passing, especially if they’re not on the birth certificate. Rhys and I have thought about what would happen, should our little one be left stranded without both of us. Not concretely, mind you, but we’ve at least broached the subject.

Wow, this post has turned way more into one of those mommy blog posts than I was expecting it to. Apologies, if that’s not what you were looking for!

Back to the topic, in general, though… I’m not going to say that if you follow the steps I listed above, or any steps found online or in books, that you’ll be completely financially prepared. If there’s anything working in childcare has taught me, it’s that kids throw curveballs just by existing. There will be moments where you’re wholly unprepared for a situation, and just need to roll with it. Doing what you can now will help take the strain off for sure, but don’t freak out if you haven’t paid off all your debt, or if you haven’t saved as much as you wanted. Life happens. Shit happens. It’ll be okay. Do what you can.

I think that one of the reasons why I even started writing this blog post, is because I’ve been coming up against a lot of doubt from myself and others recently. Working out the budget I mentioned earlier scared me shitless about how we were supposed to afford a baby with all the other stuff on top of it. In addition to that, when I asked a “friend” whether I should set up a crowdfunding button to go on this blog to help with the added cost of ART, she came back with a rather judgemental: “If you can’t come up with an extra $2000 for that,” (HA! If only it cost just $2000….) “then should you really be having kids?”

Ouch. Right to the heart of my anxieties. Thanks, I needed that. Please take your entitled, unknowledgeable ass right out of my house. Don’t let the door hit you on your way out. It’s not like I haven’t thought about this for DAYS on end and stretched and thought and researched…. No, I’m not like that at all.

I should have known better, to be honest.  This particular “friend” has no interest in having children herself or being around them for extended periods of time. She has frequently been seen rolling her eyes at all my preparatory excitement, and giving me long looks that essentially said: “oh my god this again?” Her comment really tore into me, though, like a good cat-scratch, and I find myself still thinking about it. I know exactly where I stand socioeconomically, and I know at least generally how difficult it’s going to be, raising a child. There are tons of considerations I’ve already discovered, and tons more that I haven’t even thought of. But if I’m going to let my financial situation forestall my desire to be a mother, do I really deserve to be one? Situations can change.

One of my favourite romance movies of all time, P.S. I Love You has this really exceptional scene in it that I’ve kept with me since seeing it the first time. Granted, the whole movie is about losing a loved one (spoilers?), but it doesn’t start like that. I’ve been thinking about it more and more, and it’s acted like a sort of balm against some of the bile coming from doubters, including my own anxiety.

It’s the opening scene, and Holly (Hilary Swank) is mad at her husband Gerry (Gerard Butler) because of something he’d said during dinner with Holly’s mother (Kathy Bates). Finally, it comes out that Holly is mad at Gerry because he said she didn’t want children right then (along with a slew of other semi-related issues). The scene shows that Holly is a planner, and a worrier, and frequently gets inside her own head and lets her anxieties get the better of her, and I feel that, girl. The whole opening scene is so relatable and almost perfectly voices my anxieties about preparing for a baby. What sticks with me most is what Gerry says though:

“People have babies with no money all the time…. We’re not a mistake just because we don’t have any money.”

You’ve just got to work through it. You’ve got to rely upon one another and support one another, and do what you can. Things will turn out one way or the other (even if you’re not a cute, carefree Irish guy). It may take longer than you want it to, like it will with us, but… You’ll get there. We will too.

Do you have any hacks or saving tips? Have you had similarly unsupportive friends? Let me know in the comments! I’d love to hear from you.

[thesuperhero-sessions]

The Superhero Sessions - Chapter 14

Coffee Shop Soundtrack

Sedona’s life had gotten back to the grind but an unexpected guest changes things.

*Author’s note:  Hey everyone! So, the last installment was in October - let’s consider that a mid-season hiatus while the network and producers decided if the show would be canceled or not. Well, thanks to THIS FUCKING PHOTO OH AND ALSO THIS ONE my muse came back long enough for me to take 30 min and write up this chapter. I really want to rename these as episodes because I’ve been viewing this as season one pretty much all along. I don’t owe any one an explanation, but basically the following 3 things happened that killed my muse: Tr*mp. Falling head over heels for one Mr. Sebastian Stan. Getting busy with work and kinda just forgetting how to be creative for a while. I don’t know if/when the next chapter will be posted, but here’s this. xoxo

Also, i titled this after i wrote it, but the song linked in the title kinda inspired said title

Tag list: If you’d like to be included, please follow and message me :)

@always-an-evans-addict @lillianfromaccounting

@ariallane @theycallmebecca @emilyevanston @thelookingglassalice @ss-buckybarnes @rogersxbarnesx @mewsiex @welp-heregoessomething @heather-lynn @alievans007 @mculove1 @knittingknerdy @toc1985

Triggers: None 

Word Count 1560

Masterlist

The light trickled in through the slats on the blinds, and Sedona winced, rolling over to try to stay asleep. She cuddled up against something warm and hard, her nails scraping gently over flesh as she breathed in the scent of mocha and leather. She felt her body pulled flush against the other and nuzzled her face into the broad chest.

“I feel you stirring.” The honey-coated voice spoke out, starting to pull her from her dreams.

“Mmmm not yet. Five more minutes. I don’t have class or work today. Please. Just let me.”

A finger ran up and down her shoulder blade. With all the use and manual labor, his hands should’ve been rougher, but his body would just rebuild. They were softer than silk. Sedona opened her eyes to come face to face with his chest, her fingers  finding the freckles on his pale skin to trace constellations. He laughed - a deep rumbling in his chest. “That tickles.”

Sedona’s chin was lifted to look at the man in her bed. A thick but well maintained beard speckled with hints of auburn in the sunlight. His hair had grown out more, and was now a rich mahogany. But those eyes were still the same. A pale turquoise sparkling like the ocean, yes, with hints of green. Those green flecks that she’d come to memorize. “What happened to five more minutes?” The man asked, his plump lips falling into a lopsided smirk, his brows arched as he regarded her.

Her body felt warm and tingly and soon she realized that there was a satisfying ache between her thighs. A welcome reminder of the night’s events, only fading to have a new desire take it’s place. “Maybe those five minutes are better suited doing something else.”

Steve smirked. “Five minutes? Since when has it ever been only five minutes.” He rolled them over and lowered his lips to her ear. “Babe, you’re not leaving this bed today.”

Sedona jostled awake as her alarm went off, which she promptly shut off. Another was set for 40 minutes from now. He groaned and nearly sobbed for a moment that the bliss was all just a dream. Again. They’d gotten more frequent over the recent months,and what frightened her most was that it wasn’t just simple sex dreams. It was cuddly morning afters. Simple dinners. Grocery shopping. Okay, well, the grocery shopping one involved a unicorn on roller blades and an alligator wearing a hat and trenchcoat trying to sell them insurance for a rocket ship...but other than that it was completely normal.

Months had passed since her trip to Clint’s farm, and she got lost in her rigorous classwork. Sam would touch base with her, especially since she started running the meetings for him. He wanted to be kept in the loop with those he’d been helping. Tony dropped by her apartment unannounced on more than one occasion, and she thanked the gods of every religion that she was always walking in on him  sitting on her couch rather than him walking in on her hanging out in just her underwear. He’d tried to give her an apartment in the city, but she kept telling him no, that it didn’t feel right. Tony finally stopped but the following month she’d found her tuition and student loans to all be paid off. She was frustrated, but couldn’t be mad at him. He was throwing money at...well, not at his problems, but at his lack of them? Pepper still hadn’t taken him back, he missed his friends, and he still hated the government. He had problems - real world ones - and the were harder to solve than aliens, gods, and sentient robots combined.

But it was the day that Steve showed back up in her life that had floored her. She was locking up her office when she spotted a tall, handsome, and vaguely familiar man speaking with someone, who pointed her way. When he smiled and gave an awkward wave, her knees felt like they were going to buckle under her. His hair was a dark brown, as was his full beard.

“Steve! Hey!” She made her way over to him and into his welcome arms. He gave her a squeeze and pulled back enough to look at her.

“No, um, it’s Grant.” he said, nodding with a serious face that dissolved into a smile. “Do you wanna grab some coffee? Catch up? I’ve been doing some soul searching since you left...and I could really use someone to talk to.”

“Is everything alright?” Her face flashed from elation to worry in a millisecond.

“No, no, everything and everyone are fine.” He said, letting his hands hold her shoulders as though she’d drop at any moment. Relief washed over her and she nodded, letting him lead the way.

“So, what are you doing back in New York? Can’t possibly be just for little ol’ me.” Sedona teased.

They sat with their drinks and his eyes twinkled. “And why not? Are you not worth of someone making a trip to see you?”

She could feel the blood rush to her cheeks, and took a sip of her still too hot chocolate to mask it.

“No, I did come out here to start seeing you again. I think you could really help me out. All of us. I just have this knot in my stomach that things won’t be peaceful for long...and I’d really like to have my head on straight for once in my life.  I know you can’t fix me overnight, but I’m willing to start. I’ve never run from a fight, so now I should probably start battling my demons, huh.”

Sedona was a little disheartened that it was basically just a patient visit, but she was still pleased. “I’m surprised no one’s recognized you out here, Grant. Pretty brave risking getting caught.”

He just laughed. “No one has any idea.” He shook his head. “I kinda like it, though. For the first time since I strapped on those tights...I get to just be me.” He stroked his beard. “To risk a pun, this is really growing on me.”

His good mood was infectious. This wasn’t the man she met a few months ago, nor the one she’d studied for so long. She realized how creepy that actually was and knew in that moment she’d never be able to have a relationship with him. Obviously he was a patient and that was illegal, but how do you tell someone you’ve practically obsessed over them since you were a toddler? She shook the thought out of her mind as he mentioned having a gift for her.

“Ste-Grant...you shouldn’t have, really.” He produced a folded piece of paper and slid it over to her.

“I’ve started drawing again. I forgot how much I loved it - and not just doodles, full portraits and scenes. I’ve started to use it to help process my emotions. There was this one that I drew back during the war, a monkey on a -”

“unicycle...I’ve seen it. Tony has it in his office.”

“He does?” Steve paused, looking thoughtful, shaking his head with a light laugh. “Well, go on, look at it.”

She unfolded it and it was a photographically rendered portrait of a woman. Her back was to the viewer and she was practicing archery. It was drawn from midback up, and only a quarter of her face could be seen. Even with the rest hidden, it was clear she had a determined gaze and furrowed brow. She almost looked pissed, but was drawn with such care to make her still look beautiful. The piece was signed, dated, and titled Artemis.

“Is this…?” She furrowed her own brow, looking at it in greater detail, looking up to her companion.

“Yeah, that’s you. From when you were shooting with Clint. I saw you look over after we’d laughed and the expression on your face...You looked like a hunter about to destroy their prey. It was captivating. And...I just want you to know that us laughing had nothing to do with your archery.” He waved his hands across the table, gesturing as he spoke.

“This is….I can’t even...words.” She laughed. “This is amazing. No one’s ever given me something like this before. Thank you. I’m going to get it framed.” Sedona reached forward to give his hand a squeeze.

A woman with long wavy blonde hair had entered the cafe and took her sunglasses off as she looked around. She approached their table and smiled, resting a hand on Steve’s shoulder as she said hi to Sedona.

“Hey!” Steve stood and melted his body against the woman, kissing her cheek. The woman looked to be under 30, but had a hard demeanor. She’s seen some shit in her life and had to toughen up. But the way she smiled back at Steve showed she was kind behind it all. A strong and confident woman, like the rest in the Captain’s life, she reached a hand across the table to Sedona in a firm handshake.

“You must be Sedona.” For once, her name was used instead of qualifiers or job descriptions. “Steve’s told me all about  you.” She rested her hand on his thick pectoral. “I’m Sharon, it’s great to finally meet you.”

[613526362]

My gum tissue is so eroded I have chronic pain in my mouth but it wouldn't be there if I was dead

8-9-2023 I've loved a lot of people. I've loved a few women. I've sacrificed for so many, for so much. But I truly, truly believe I've never been loved. Pandemos, who loved me of course, was over me in a minute. Maybe a second. Was at the gym on Facebook the next day and deleted our pics and got her brains fucked out a week later. While I was losing sleep and cutting my veins to bleed. I'm counting days and picking my death I leave 8-9-2023 I'm done telling you people No one fucking gets it 223 million views on a video of Montana in Africa for two days And a few of those clicks put $10,000 in an American rapper's pocket. 8-9-23 Eight nine twenty three. I've never been one to get tattoos. But I think if I had it put on my abdomen. I would see it and it would be a constant reminder - "You stupid fuck, if you got this shit tattooed on your body and don't do it, how will you feel about yourself??" I need to start planning it. Six years is enough. It has to be. It must. I'm not trying to get rich anymore. I can't wait for that. I'll be [redacted] soon. Six years. Six years I'll put up with your seductive money grabbers and sports highlights and potato chips and soulless soullessness. Put up with you not giving a fuck about anything but yourself and even doing a bad job of that. Your constant identity crisis in a country with no identity. Fuck you America, I'm not going somewhere more comfortable or safe But six years from now at least I'll be somewhere that is not completely devoid of purpose That is not completely soulless and empty Look into my eyes And you will not see this sick society 8-29-23 Enough years to finish medical school, and do a short residency. Not enough to repay loans. Not enough to get rich in business. Not enough for my father to die from his cancer. He's trying too hard to stay alive to see me become a rich doctor and marry a doctor-chasing model and and have pretty little white babies. 8-29-23 A 74 year old man looks back on half of his life's fruit and says, "Oh my god..... That wasn't a phase." Redacted Dr. K had just told me he had high titers of CMV and EBV when I realized I hadn't met the latest arrival of the clan of 20-year-old black lesbians who just walked in the room. So I went and met her. Way more confident than Gode's daughter. It did weird me out how she said "You're going to show me a good time" when she visits The Big City in a tone like it was a direct order, not a question. Before I'd met his daughter, Gode had talked to me about it as we drove to his office. "She had some bad experiences with guys. She's just so innocent, guys took advantage of her. I was thrilled when she told me she's dating a girl. You know why? A girl can't get her pregnant." That night I would masturbate three times to lesbian videos. I was running two or three a days since I was in the Magical State, feeling a bit on vacation. Feeling a bit like anything is possible. Also I had free wifi rather than the mobile hotspot shit from my phone that drains my monthly data. And the lightning you could see far off, across the water. It was beautiful in the evening and at night. Pandemos' home city, home state. I called her, at 5 on my day arrival. I didn't tell her I was a few hours away from her current nursing assignment at first. We just talked. Then I told her. She was mad. I explained. "I don't know if I can see you. I think you might put me under your spell again." "Oh my god, why do guys ALWAYS say that after we break up." She would remind me the next morning that it might work out for us to see each other. And the next day. My flight attendant is from The Big City. I know the accent now. I'm on the plane about to leave, and she still reminding me that I could have seen her, and should have let her know I was coming. She's one of the three girls who The Magical State brought to me while I was here. Gode had tried to hook me up with his assistant's Puerto Rican friend, but the next day we found out she was pregnant......and married So our trip to the Cheesecake Factory that night was a "hunting session" for Marshall, he told everyone. Sure enough, as we were all looking at menus, he came back from the bathroom and motioned for me to have a word with him back towards the bathroom. I told him I was scared of what was about to happen as we walked. "See you didn't believe that Gode got game. I got my mojo. I'm hooking my dog up." And the two girls whose meal he bought were actually quite pleased to chat with us. And the girl assigned to me liked me, and looked into my eyes, and let me touch her leg. And took my card happily. That kind of went on and on. And hours later as I was on top of my hotel (the construction they were doing was kind of creepy to walk through at night, but I loved it) looking out over the water, I knew she would text me the next day. Because I knew Gode had talked me up and a medical student and brilliant and great and he-would-have-me-date-his-daughterable. But what I didn't know was that when I went back down, the Russian (not Ukrainian, Marshall) front desk worked would tell me what time she got off. Considering I had also called the wrong Gabby and reconnected with an amazingly happy and pretty Asian girl that I would have amputated both fifth fingers in college to have dated..... Considering that, I guess I had four girls in three days. And then in the airport I realized a girl has never loved me And I started writing this I started writing 8-9-23 I wrote an email telling the guy who thinks he was appointed to take over my [redacted] back on the island that I'm coming in November to kick his ass out. CC'd the dean and the current lead. No matter how much love I can show a woman A woman will never love me I like white chocolate I like going to the zoo I like new shoes and I like turkey burgers because they make me feel healthy I like the picture of my dad looking at a squirrel I like being nice to people and surprising them like that I like rainy days and I like infomercials And a woman will never love me And a man will never understand me And I will not sit in this country and try to get rich and try to find love and try to believe I have anything here Goddamnit I will not stay here to give you any peace in your cancer filled intestines father who has always been there for me and deserves heaven And your attempts to impress me have succeeded Gode. I sucketh your dick. Maybe you will take my future. But 23 is coming. I must live life like hell is the earth's gift to me 8-9-23 "As we begin our final descent into the. Big City, look to your right and you'll have an incredible view of downtown." We fly over endless streets of warfare shortly thereafter. Streets filled with blood and murder. I guess I forgot to tell Gode that even though the population of Big City is massive, half that population is dying or killing and probably can't give him ROI. I think I should stop talking to Pandemos By the time I landed, all four girls were gone. My war has resumed 8-9-23 I walk in the door, expecting to be knocked down. I forgot to take the trash out before I left. My Lyft driver home was great. It was a curious situation where I had way more experience with rideshare than him, and he had way more experience with the city. We both had things to tell. One of his was that his girlfriend had applied for Big City Fire Department 15 years ago, and was just today receiving a settlement for extreme gender discrimination they had committed against her and four other women in the hiring process. I slept heavy on the plane. That doesn't happen much. I feel the stress coming back now that I'm here. I see the flashes of light sometimes. How it would feel to come home to a hug from someone who loves you. And then to shower and lie in bed and cuddle with them. How it would feel to have a little two-foot high child run up to your leg and squeeze when you walk in the door. God even a dog who's like "I'm SOOO glad you're back to feed me" would be something. So then, is it okay if I'm never truly loved, as long as I'm hugged, or leg grabbed, or urged to feed? Maybe feeling love from people is just mistaking people's need for you to satisfy their needs. The love I practice is different. It is sacrifice and dedication. 8-9-23 I'm going to rest my eyes now. I guess I'm home.

[re-renewed]

January 21, 2017

It's 1 AM. I am tempted to label this as the 20th, but that would be a lie. Alright so I already failed at the attempt to post every day but I'm not gonna feel bad about it. Lots of things have been happening, lots of good things, and I won't apologize for participating in them. I mean I'd only be apologizing to myself but still, I don't want to apologize for things I don't need to. Nobody needs a sorry person around. Anyway, things have been good. The Daniel's fast my family was on ends in two days but I definitely broke it today. I ate so much crap and I feel awful. Definitely going to watch what I eat this year because these 21 days did a lot for my health. I've been trying to tune more into God lately. Probably not enough, really, but I want to. It's just hard... and really, it's not supposed to be. I'm a bit mad at myself for knowing what's right and doing the exact opposite. I just found out my manager is moving to another store. Steve hired me when no one wanted to hire a 17 year old with no experience. He believed in me and trusted me when hiring other people as well. To know someone who has changed the lives of so many people is truly an honor, and I am forever thankful for the friendship I have with him. I applied for a new job at the rec 7 cafe today. The manager is so sweet. If I get the job, I'll still be at Longs, so I'll be working 2 jobs and in school full time. But yeknow, I want things to happen, therefore I need to go out and make it happen. Good things happen to those who know when it's wise to wait, and when it's wise to move. Speaking of school, it's been eventful. Stressful. I lost my check for my semester 2 student loan so pretty much I'm a load of crap. I enrolled in oceanography, endured the worst "first lecture" of my life, realized the course didn't actually cover my science requirement (so rude), and dropped it faster than I dropped my cup of coffee in the movie theatre tonight. Then I dropped psychology, and realized I was behind in credits to be full time, so now I'm back in Delucchis class with a bunch of scary upperclassmen. They're not scary but they're super aggressive, and honestly it's more annoying than scary. I'm trying to get extra credit here- stop yelling out the answers and raise ya damn hand. I'm excited for second semester. It's redemption for the first. I mean I have a 3.5 but I think I could do better. Plus I have friends now which is great. Like, friends you go out to get Jamba Juice with in between classes. That's pretty awesome. Also, I'm taking a music class. Sure it's beginning piano, but the sound of the metronome is so close to home. I missed it. Hmm what else is going on. We got the carpet shampooed today. The floor is damp and the night is loud; every single fan we own is scattered throughout the house, and many of them are full speed. My overhead fan is on, even tho it's a cold night, because the last thing we need is stinky carpet. I've been going to the gym and that's pretty awesome, too. Everyone there is still stronger than me, but I'm getting there. My endurance will increase and I'll be better every single day. I also (finally) practiced driving during break. My goal is to get my license before my permit expires in March. I want to be able to drive to my new job if I get it, because if not that means I'm bussing it. Which is fine, just not to my parents. Anyways I'm not as awful as I thought I'd be at driving. It's still not totally comfortable to me, but it's not as scary as I expected. I'm learning, and everyone else had to too. I'll learn and it'll be okay. These things take time and I'm okay with committing to that idea. I just need to keep practicing, and I wish I had more to practice with. I feel bad for asking, but hopefully some of my older friends will have it in them to let me practice a bit with them. Fingers are also crossed that Kellen will sell me his car. Or I'll find one just like it for cheap. I'd ask Justin but recently his cars been overheating. That means no AC, and it starts bubbling which is really scary. So now we're using his mom's Acura. If anything, it makes me feel more and more like we're an old married couple. It's almost hilarious how sometimes we resemble the most youthful of ages, yet others you could swear we've been wedded for years. He's a beautiful person. Simple, yet complex, but not complicated. I love him. Sometimes I just wish he wanted more from life. To explore. To experience things and people and life before we're 25 and have to be adults. I wish he'd let loose a little, but at the same time I wish he'd shape up. Nevertheless, his life is not mine to live. I'm just here to clap when no one else does and keep cheering him on in whichever direction he decides to go. And me. Let's see.. well the tattoo thing is still definitely a thought. I had another hair idea but yeknow... something is so nice about virgin hair. Heaven knows it's the only part that can convert back to virgin if you just cut enough off, ha. I guess my style is... indie? If that makes sense. Yet hella basic because I'm lazy. But I'm trying not to be. I'm looking for ways to up my style without being vain or too time consuming. I'm thinking about buying this teeth whitening kit and colored contacts. Just things that our fun and not as expensive as dyeing my hair ($150 is just not something I can pay, not including touch ups!!). I mean I want to but I also want to save my money for a rainy day or yeknow, sophomore year of college. Speaking of "rainy days (but not really)," friends and I want to go on a trip this year. So far, the winning pole is Canada. I'd love to go to Tokyo but I think any experience is a good one. I have to be sure to get my passport. Will this actually happen? Eh not sure. My parents might not be down for it, but again, I'm 18. I want to experience the world before it's too late. But of course I don't want to be stupid either. I get that it's a big deal. That'll just take convincing, I guess. Today was a good day. I'm a total dork but it was alright still. I cried for a good 10 minutes over Gabe the dog dying. He was such a good meme. Then I forgot my bag in a restaurant after eating with Justin's family. Embarrassing but happens too much to phase me. The worse has to be when I put my arm rest up in the movie theaters without realizing my drink was still in the cup holder.... yes, my full cup of coffee was catapulted/splat into the floor behind me. I still feel pretty bad about that one. Also, La La Land was amazing. My new favorite movie. Truly life changing. I am still pondering what exactly I'm taking away from it because wow, it sure gave me a lot to think about. I feel like these first few weeks of 2017 have already made me realize a lot. I am learning a lot about myself. I'm remembering a lot, too. How much I love music, and how much more I need to love myself. I want to be so comfortable in my own skin that I never wish to be in anyone else's. And so far, I feel like I'm close. I feel like I've grown a lot already. Putting in the extra effort to feel good has really paid off and I'm proud of myself. This is something I want to keep up. This is nice. I must remind myself to keep writing. It's good mind exercise and it's good reflection time. It's all good stuff. Goodnight.