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#and other kids were like oh so you’re an Aggie then? No. i just hate cheaters :))
crvvys · 10 months
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keeping an eye on UT Austin’s women’s basketball team bc they’re making waves and I want to see when they’ll lose. I love Rori Harmon and I’m familiar with the high school she went to bc they were scary to play against when I was growing up lol so I want her to excel BUT I hate UT Austin even though I’m from Austin. it’s fuck that school forever bro
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carebooks · 2 years
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so i watched the School for Good and Evil
ya’ll should know that i’ve never once touched the books, i am going into this blind and just wanna see how the movie does, as a prolific movie watcher and just that
right off the bat, i see we got JESPER FROM SHADOW AND BONE I LOVE THIS DUDE;
so they’re brothers, vv cool, oh is the Red one the evil one? yep i was right
it’s weird bc they’re brothers played by the same guy yet he just has great chemistry with himself
also, the mood just flipped from 0 to a 100 real quick, what just happened
i feel like they should’ve shown us them being brotherly and having arguments and maybe see Rafal slowly get angrier at his side always losing, bc really there was no way to see it coming. i could’ve done with a quick montage of them running the school and him growing angrier
“i prefer chaos” me too but could we get more reasons as to this whole thing other than just ‘evil’ ?
oh damn, the bad one died, i thought it would’ve been the opposite way
(but he aint really dead right? i mean)
so both girls are just hated on by the town, i can see them taking revenge together, lets all choose evil hm?
Aggie and Sophie Forever? *cough* gay
love that they just dont give a shit about what the peoples say; like insults thrown they just fly past them
Sophie just Rapunzeled this creep with a frying pan, im loving her, if i could i would choose violence too babe
“I seriously doubt there are any decent people in Gavaldon.” me too babe
so Sophie wants to get out and doesnt wanna settle for an ordinary life, why not just move in with Aggie and live out your happy lives together?
i wonder if we’ll see what happened to Leonora
so everyone ends up in the water when they get to their school? that’s a way to arrive
WOW i love the werewolf guard
“God I hate move-in day.” why do i vibe with this canine dude so much
i love that there’s a tower between the two schools, wonder what happens there
oh so Hort is Captain Hook’s kid. huh.
Tedros has got nothing on Eugene Fitzherbert
Tedros is King Arthurs kid? hm. better luck next time.
OH HE LOST HIS ARM I LOVE IT
THERE’S SOME ACTUAL DISMEMBERMENT HERE
oh hey its older Rhain, i love the actor’s work on Blackish
i mean hey look on the brightside, you got your own room to yourself
oh those bitches locked you up come on guys
if i were you i would’ve switched clothes, scaling a balcony in a dress cant be easy
whats with the creepy Cupid
WHY WOULD YOU SHOOT YOUR STUDENTS WITH ARROWS IF THEY WERE ON THE LEDGE
SOPHIE TURNING THE KNIFE ON HER WAS SO FUN
IS THAT OLIVIA RODRIGO’S BRUTAL YES
so if you can’t get a prince then you’re destined to end up as an anthropomorphic kitchen object or an animal?
what the actual fuck.
please tell me this entire school structure gets redone in the end
Hort has the makings of a good henchmen once Sophie gets more of a handle on her boss side
Gregor is a guy i can vibe with
idk who that random guy was with Sophie kissing him but he just made me laugh
Sophie growing into her evil side is showing and im liking it
Tedros and Aggie have a fun dynamic, hopefully he doesnt disappointment
again, i’d love it if both girls go for Evil
they talked about how Good and Evil are not really balanced, haven’t been for 200 years, so it’d be interesting if both of them go for Evil (even thou im pretty sure thats not where its gonna go)
imagine hearing your son got killed in school, damn, bye Gregor
how is this side of the school truly good if this is what you do to kids that fail?
OH MY FUCK ITS THE MONSTROUS NIGHTMARE FROM HTTYD I LOVE IT
not Rafal coming in and telling everyone Sophie’s a badass
ugh, Lesso had a thing with Rafal? i was counting on her and Dovey having a secret thing
oh fuck, that’s so sad, oh she let this little girl be free, holy shit that’s epic and sad and just damn, i loved it
whats with the big bird, what’s his problem now??
i like that Dovey is very aware of how fucked up the other princesses are about being ‘good’ and recognizes that Agatha actually is good, paralleling how Sophie is actually evil
the Nevers are some sadistic little freaks huh? i get it
Sophie’s in her villain era and im not sorry about it
Sophie said villains can be hot too
i miss Gregor
why do i kinda ship them? Tedros and Sophie? like they’re not exactly in it for like the deep stuff, you can tell it was more of an appearance based relationship with Sophie having him think she’s truly Good, etc. and considering how he’s been so far tells you what kinda prince he is so really they’re kinda perfect for each other.
ya’ll really wanna risk death outside the gates for each other? i mean Sophie, he’s pretty and Tedros, you talked to her like twice, one time she shot correctly so i mean, how well do you know her that you wanna be together?
Anemone was demoted to beautification? so legit EVERYONE here knows how badly the Good School has fallen, hot damn
OH Lesso was Leonora, fun
YO SOPHIE FLIPPING THE SCHOOLS WAS GENIUS I LOVE THAT
while i dont vibe with the whole thing that this immortal who knows how old man seeks out his true love in Sophie, who im pretty sure is liks 16 or 17 or smth, i love how he corrupted good
BC IT MAKES SENSE
HAVING THE GOOD SIDE BE ABOUT GIRLS PRACTICING THEIR SMILES, REWARDING THEM FOR THEIR REVENGE IN THE END, STUDENTS WHO FAIL THREE TIMES GET BOOTED, GOOD BECAME JUST AS BAD IT’S SO SUBTLE AND IT WORKS
ok but i kinda love that the girls parallel the brothers from the beginning
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barrysjumpsuit · 4 years
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the killing in kildare - an outer banks/criminal minds crossover (jj pov)
this came to be thanks to a post by @pixelated-pogues and @poguesoftheobx and tbh my main motivation for this was jj being an asshole to feds
word count: 3k
warnings: mentions of (canon) abuse, some abuse/fighting, mentions of canon murder, this is purely unedited so prob typos and bad grammar idc
summary: following the murder of sherriff peterkin, our favorite BAU team comes in to assist the kildare county police department with their case
a/n: i hate this and rewrote it twice, but here ya go!!! couldn’t make it a true criminal minds bau type case due to the canon but i did my best. also there’s mayward if u squint
---
“We haven’t had a homicide here in ten years,” Deputy Shoupe was explaining as he led the BAU team through the police station. “All sorts of weird shit going down lately. We’re at our wits end.”
“And all this happened after Routledge’s disappearance?” Agent Hotchner asked, weaving his way through desks as Shoupe unlocked the conference room door. 
“Yes sir, his kid - also John Routledge, we call him John B - thought he’s out there, but we’ve officially deemed him dead after he didn’t show up after a couple months, now the kid says a local killed him. Have a seat.”
Shoupe gestured to the chairs surrounding the table, and the team sat down, Hotchner and Rossi near the head of the table. They all listened while Shoupe explained what went down over the course of the past year - Big John’s disappearance, which turned out to be linked to his hunt for the gold of the Royal Merchant. Word had it that a man named Ward Cameron, the elite of the island, was responsible, or at least involved. “That statement came from Routledge’s kid, so I’m not sure how true it is,” Shoupe explained. 
Turns out, Shoupe believed it was the younger Routledge who murdered Sheriff Peterkin. A local reported him running around, covered in blood. He had become involved in the treasure hunt with his friends, wreaking havoc around the island in the process. There were strange men who reportedly chased the kids, who later turned up dead in someone’s nets, sporting wounds from a gaff hook.
“And now Pete…” Shoupe continued, trailing off. “That kid’s on the loose. We haven’t seen or heard anything about him in a few days. We think he got away, but I still have officers out keeping an eye open.”
It wasn’t the type of case the BAU would normally take on, but it was interesting. A hunt for treasure, mysterious men and local residents turning up dead, and the murder of the Sheriff.
There were a few questions and a brief silence as the team looked over the photos and files they had been given. Morgan finally spoke up, his voice filled with determination. “We’ll find whoever did this.”
--
JJ laid on the dock, swinging his feet which dangled off the edge. The tips of his boots barely skimmed the water. In one hand, he pinched a joint between two fingers. His eyes were closed, and occasionally he sucked on the joint, enjoying the calmness that overwhelmed his system, easing the anxiety that had been overwhelming ever since he saw John B disappear the night before.
They had finally eased off the search once there was word of his escape. He was out of Kildare County, out of jurisdiction. 
With no more cops hanging around, JJ could finally return to the Chateau. He knew he couldn’t go home - his dad had probably realized that JJ had stolen the keys to the Phantom by now, and JJ would be a goner. Being at the Chateau was familiar and comfortable.
Both Kiara and Pope had returned home to be with their families. Ever since two nights before, JJ had been at the Chateau, Kiara having dropped off food from The Wreck to last him a few days.
JJ was too caught up in his thoughts to hear the footsteps making their way down the dock until someone spoke. “JJ Maybank?”
He knew the voice of a cop when he heard it; JJ bolted upright, immediately jumping into the water, his joint long forgotten as he plunged under the water and started swimming.
Arms suddenly wrestled him. “We just want to talk, kid,” someone said, and JJ threw an elbow their way. Whoever had jumped in and grabbed him was too big, and wrestled him back to the dock. “Grab him, Spence.”
Hands pulled JJ back onto the dock. “You’re not in any trouble, JJ.”
JJ struggled in his hold, but more hands were on him, and he knew he couldn’t get away.
“Alright, you got me, congratulations,” he said, throwing his hands up. “John B didn’t kill Peterkin, he didn’t kill anybody.”
“Hold up, kid,” the first man said. JJ saw that they weren’t dressed like normal cops, and the man soon confirmed his suspicions. “My name is Derek Morgan, this is Spencer Reid, we’re with the FBI. We just have a few questions.”
“Ask away,” JJ said, exasperated. He was cornered on the end of the dock by the two agents.
“We’d like you to come with us,” Agent Reid explained. “To take an official statement. You won’t get in any trouble and you’ll be able to leave whenever you want.”
“If your friend is innocent, we want to help him, all right? That’s what we’re here for.”
Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was the fact that John B was gone and safe. Whatever the case, JJ nodded, allowing the agents to walk him to their SUV to take him back to the police station. He was more than aware of all the looks everyone gave him. JJ greeted them, in typical JJ fashion, and he was brought into an office.
A blonde woman was sitting at the conference table, papers and files spread out before her while she spoke on the phone. JJ recognized the photos of the two square groupers that were killed, hauled up in nets by some fishermen. His stomach turned at the memory of them breaking into John B’s house. 
The agent set the phone down onto the table before sticking out her hand. “My name’s Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ. You’re a friend of John B’s?”
JJ laughed. “JJ, that’s a good name, I like it.” He smiled with satisfaction as Jennifer’s face flushed red. “Look at that, we even look alike, we’re both blond bombshells.” 
“This is JJ Maybank,” Agent Morgan interjected, a smile tugging on his lips, too. 
“Well, all right, JJ. Can you tell us what happened? From the beginning? We found that the officers here tended to have a… biased report, so sorry about that.” Her eyes shifted slowly towards Deputy Shoupe.
“Nah, it’s all good. I have a bit of a reputation here, so that doesn’t surprise me.” JJ couldn’t help but throw a wink towards Shoupe. “Ol’ Shoupe and I here know each other pretty well.”
There was a pang of satisfaction inside JJ as Shoupe sighed. “Just shut up and talk, Maybank.”
“Aight. So, JB’s dad was looking for this gold his whole life, ya know? He went missing at sea about a year ago. Then this month, after Agatha, my friends and I were out fishing and we found a sunk boat. It belonged to Scooter Grubbs, and we were like ‘oh, how did he get his grubby little hands on it?’” he paused, clearly proud of the joke he made. “Anyway. Scooter turned up dead and we found a compass in the boat. It was JB’s dad’s. So we were like ‘holy shit, it’s a ghost compass’. But after we found that compass we were chased by some guys, total square groupers - they tried to shoot us! Then they next day we went to ask Scooter’s wife about it but found the guys there, then they came to JB’s house looking for him and the compass. Then we found a map and tape recorder to John B from his dad in this creepy ass tomb the compass told us to go to, and we knew something was up.”
JJ paused for dramatic effect. Everyone, even Shoupe, was watching and listening intently, Jennifer scribbling down notes as a tape recorder played on the table. Agent Morgan was visibly amused by JJ’s storytelling.
He continued with the story. “So we found the shipwreck, right? But there wasn’t anything on it. So we were like damn, someone beat us to it. But then John B started mackin’ Sarah Cameron-”
Agent Reid made a confused face at his slang.
“Mackin’. You know, making out, dating, Sarah Cameron. Turns out, there was a letter left by Denmark Tanney. He was the sole survivor and hid all the gold at the Crain house. But this is where it gets good,” JJ said, leaning forward, as if the story wasn’t thrilling enough already. “Ward Cameron must have known that John B was looking for the gold. He had him move into his house and must have overheard him talking to Sarah about the gold. The gold was gone. Ward loaded it up in his plane. While this was happening, John B went to Lana, Scooter’s wife, and she told him everything. About how Big John and Ward were looking for the gold, and they were about to find the merchant, then Ward shoved John and split his head open and dumped him over the side of the boat.”
“We have agents talking to Lana Grubbs right now,” Jennifer said, and JJ nodded vigorously.
“Good. Oh yeah, JB said Ward took him fishing and tried to kill him with a gaff hook. That ring any bells?” JJ looked from Morgan to Reid, and then to Jennifer, who just nodded. “So turns out Scooter found his body and got the compass. Then he was coming back when Aggie hit. After JB found out, he was pissed, man, and we went to the runway to stop Ward from stealing the gold. He was taking it and Sarah to the Bahamas. JB went out to try to stop him. He said Peterkin showed up to arrest Ward, but then Ward’s kid Rafe - he’s a crazy motherfucker - shot Peterkin, John B ran because Rafe was gonna shoot him too, then Ward called our friend Shoupe and said John B shot her and denied everything.”
“Did you witness anything at the airport?” Morgan asked, walking to sit down beside JJ.
JJ shifted uncomfortably, filling with guilt. “No, we ran once Peterkin showed up. I’m on probation. I didn’t need to get caught out there. As far as I know, the only people who were there were Peterkin, Ward, Rafe, John B, and-”
He stopped speaking as Jennifer’s attention was immediately diverted, her eyes locked on something outside the window. JJ’s head whipped around, seeing the one person he never wanted to see ever again. All of his cockiness and charm was gone the second he laid eyes on his father.
“Reid, lock the door,” Jennifer said quietly as Shoupe and Morgan slipped out of the office, leaving the three of them. From outside, JJ could hear yelling, the voices of his father and Shoupe unmistakable.
“Don’t let him anywhere near me,” JJ said suddenly, almost pleadingly.
“Who is that?” Agent Reid asked, and Jennifer nodded as if acknowledging that she was thinking the same thing.
JJ muttered, “My dad,” wheeling his chair out of view from the window.
“We won’t let him near you, okay?” he heard the woman say, and JJ just nodded. “I’m going to call the rest of my team to see how it’s going, you can stay in here. It’s safe here. We’ll be back soon with some more questions for you.”
JJ nodded again, opening his eyes and watching the two agents leave the room, closing and locking the door behind them. 
He sat alone for a while before pulling out his phone. He noticed he had several missed calls and texts from Pope and Kiara; he called Pope back, greeted by the frantic sound of his voice. “Dude, where the hell are you!”
“Bro, the FBI is here looking for whoever killed Peterkin,” JJ said, not answering his question. 
“You’re talking to them?” Pope asked in a worried but hushed tone. “JJ, you’re actually talking to feds?”
“Hey, they wanna help John B, man. Help him and put away the Camerons.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“I told them everything, Pope. They’re talking to Miss Lana too. Who knows, if you or Kie back me up-”
“JJ!” Pope was yelling now. “JJ, do you know how many laws we’ve broken? No, JJ.”
JJ opened his mouth to say something, but quickly hung up the phone as the door opened and a two stoic, official looking men walked in.
“I’m Agent Hotchner, this is Agent Rossi,” the taller one stated. His tone was flat and hard, and JJ instantly didn’t like him.
“Are you here to take my story again? The recorder’s right there bro, I don’t even think she turned it off.” He pointed to the tape recorder, which was still running.
“No, we’re here to ask if you would happen to know where Rafe Cameron could be hiding.”
“His house? It’s really big, you might want to check everywhere.”
“We did a full sweep of the place,” Agent Hotchner said in the same disinterested tone. “Any friend’s place? Anything like that?”
JJ sighed. “He’s this guy’s bitch. Some basehead named Barry. If my dad’s out there, ask him about where to find him, he buys coke off him. Rafe does, too. The two of them jumped me a few days ago.”
“Do you know where he lives?” the other agent asked, his voice slightly softer. “His father isn’t speaking, we’ve arrested him but can’t find his son.”
“Where’s Ward? I’d like to talk to him.”
“I’m afraid we can’t let you do that, son.” Agent Rossi pulled out the chair next to JJ and sat down. “Where does this Barry guy live?”
JJ sighed. “Shitty little trailer on the west side of Sunshine street. Ironic, huh? Dude’s full of sunshine.” He paused as Hotch watched him through narrowed eyes. “Second place south of the Dollar General, you can’t miss it, it’s a shithole.”
“Thanks, JJ,” Agent Hotcher said, and the two men left, closing and locking the door behind them again.
Sighing, he kicked his feet up onto the chair that Agent Rossi had vacated, rubbing at his temple. He had barely eaten since John B left, and barely slept. His high had worn off, leaving him tired and with a subtle yet persistent headache.
“I want this fuckin’ thing to be over,” he muttered to himself.
A voice made him open his eyes and walk over to the window. Ward Cameron was walking through the main space of the station, his large strides quickly covering ground, followed by two officers. He was yelling at Jennifer, the agent hardly flinching as he berated her. The glass muffled his voice, but JJ could tell he was pulling either the wealth card or the my-daughter-ran-away-from-home card on her.
“Hey Ward!” JJ yelled, pounding his palm against the glass. “Ward!”
The man’s head eventually turned to see JJ, and seconds later, he was at the pane of glass, yelling at him. 
“You’re a fucking murderer, Ward!” JJ yelled, ignoring the words Ward was throwing at him. Your friend could have killed my daughter. You ruined her life. You ruined my life. You’re a liar. JJ countered with words of his own. “You killed Big John! You killed those men! You tried to kill my best friend! Your son killed Peterkin! You don’t care about your family, Ward!”
The last sentence made him snap. Jennifer and two officers were trying to restrain Ward, but he shoved them off, picking up and chair and throwing it at the window.
Luckily, the window was made for scenarios like this. Ward couldn’t touch JJ, and both of them knew it. They kept yelling until they finally cuffed Ward, leading him out of view, JJ’s face still pressed against the window, his body shaking with rage.
He flinched as the door opened, and Agent Reid came in, standing in the doorway sheepishly. 
“What do you want?” JJ muttered, plopping back down in the chair he had been sitting in before.
The agent shrugged. “Just thought you might want to talk, is all. Nothing you’ll say leaves this room.”
JJ regarded him through squinted eyes, his arms crossed across his chest. “Why do you think I need a therapy session?”
Reid shrugged again. “Thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask. You’ve been through a lot recently. I can tell there’s more going on than what you told us.”
He sighed. “Everything just went to shit so quick. My best friend was framed for murder, he left, and now my dad wants to kill me the first chance he gets. And once they get the Camerons I’ll be expected to resume life as normal.” He threw up his hands for effect. “Life was never normal, life was never good. It’s fucked, man.”
--
JJ sat with Reid for another hour or two. The small talk had eventually drifted into an awkward silence, broken by more yelling.
“I didn’t do it!” JJ heard from outside the office. He could recognize Rafe’s voice anywhere, and it filled him with rage.
Reid had forgotten to lock the door. In one fluid motion, JJ was on his feet, throwing the door open, running and tackling Rafe, knocking him from the agent’s grasps. Grabbing his shoulders and throwing him against the ground, JJ collapsed to his knees, one on either side of Rafe.
He was helpless with his hands cuffed, and Agent Morgan pulled JJ off Rafe, restraining him. “Easy, big guy,” Morgan said cooly. “We’ve made the arrests, JJ, your friend’s name is cleared. You can get out of here.”
“What?” JJ asked stupidly, looking to a woman he had not yet met. She had long, straight black hair.
“You’re free to leave. Your story matches up with what Lana Grubbs told us, and we were able to recover a gun from the Cameron residence that matched the type used in the murder of Sheriff Peterkin.”
At that, she followed the others, leaving JJ standing in the middle of the police station. He could hear muffled shouts of Rafe, which dissipated after a door slammed.
It was over. JJ almost didn’t know what to do, so he just left.
A body collided with his, then another. He struggled at first, but recognized the arms wrapped around him, and melted into Pope and Kiara’s embraces.
“They made the arrests,” JJ found himself saying. “JB’s gonna be okay.”
tagging @jellyfishbeansontoast @pixelated-pogues @kookkyra @poguesoftheobx @shawnssongs @stargazingstarkey @letsgofullkook @jjmaybcnks @ims0golden @jjsmentalpolaroids @queenk00k @sortagaysortahigh @thegreatestofheck
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mirkwoodshewolf · 4 years
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Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 8
*Author’s note*
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! THERE IS A RAPE SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER. IF YOU KNOW SOMEONE OR HAVE BEEN A VICTIM YOURSELF YOU ARE NOT ALONE!! Please call a local hotline for rape survivors and talk to the people there, they’ll help you. I’ve also put a notice on when the scene is about to begin and where it ends so if you’d like to skip that section of the chapter, go right ahead i DO NOT WANT TO CAUSE FURTHER MENTAL HARM BY REMINDING YOU ALL OF THIS TRAUMATIC THING. 
Chapter 8,
A capture and tainted soul
Taglist:
@simonedk
@ixchel-9275
@waddles03
@psychosupernatural
@plethora-of-things
@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels
@geek-and-proud
@wormzteef
@queensdivas
@queen-paladin
@queendeakyy
_______________________________________________________
God all mighty. That Prince John sure made good of his threat, and his subjects paid dearly for his humiliation believe me.  Taxes, taxes, taxes. Why he taxed the heart and soul out of the poor people of Nottingham.
And if you didn’t pay your taxes, you went to jail.  Yes my darlings, I’m in here too. Prince John saw to it that I have my own cell for my song.  I think I may even be coming up on death row in the next little while, who knows.
So unfortunately I myself can’t tell you the rest of the tale of what happens, but what I can say is that it’s not a pretty sight. Especially for our beloved heroine Gale Hood.  So those out there who are light hearted or sensitive to certain reading material, proceed with caution.
Ever since Prince John’s decree, it had been nonstop raining. The sun never once came out to grace the land, and the soil became wet and muddy.  Storms happened almost every day, other days it was just mild rain.
Robin, Gale and the rest of their crew kept a low profile for a bit cause at this point anyone who tried to interfere with business to the crown would be executed right on sight.  It broke their hearts that they couldn’t spare the poor people from Prince John’s wrath this time.
Especially Gale because she knew which family was going to be targeted next, the Sharpe’s.  But one night she would do something that would regretfully change her life forever.
Riding through the rain cloaked and disguised, Gale rode towards the Sharpe’s family cottage.  She stopped her horse and unmounted off of her and walked towards the cottage.  She came up to the door and knocked on it and from inside she could hear the panicked whimpers from the children.
“Veronica, take the children upstairs.” She heard Adam’s voice say.
“Adam, it’s just me.” She softly called out.  The door peeked open and fearfully peaking out was Adam. Gale revealed her face to him and when he saw it was his friend, he sighed with relief and quickly brought her inside.
“It’s alright my love, it’s just Gale.”
“Oh thank God. I was so scared it was the Sheriff. He’s been threatening to come by any day now to take us away cause we couldn’t pay off our taxes.” Gale lowered her hood and comforted Veronica.
“They’ve already repossessed my blacksmith shop. Soon he’ll get the cottage and then……” he sighed heavily as he sat down on his chair. “What has England come to?”
“That’s why I’ve come here.” She told them. “Listen…..England’s no longer safe for you and your family. You all need to leave.”
“What?” Adam asked in shock.
“Leave England? But we—we can’t….where would we go?” Veronica asked.
“I’ve talked with Kit and he’s got some friends along the docks who are willing to do a bit of smuggling with no questions asked. They’ll take you to Scotland and you guys can start a new life there. At least until things calm down. Or pray to God above when and if good King Richard returns to England to set things right.”
“But Gale we—we can’t just up and leave…..”
“Adam please!” Gale pleaded. “The prisons are filled to the brim with everyone. Not just men and women but children! Children! Now I have been there for you for each of your children and I look at them like they were my own. Other families have already lost their children to hunger in the cells. I refuse to let that happen to any of yours!” tears filled her eyes. “I can’t let any more children of England die, I can’t.”
Adam cupped the young woman’s face and wiped her hidden tears away.
“Alright then, when do we leave?” Gale smiled and hugged the blacksmith and praised him.
“Thank you.” she separated from him and told him. “Meet me at the river in an hour. It’s too risky to travel by carriage or horses, we’ll take the river to the docks. I’ve got a boat ready for us to travel in. Take nothing just come with the kids.”
“Alright. One hour.”
“Thank you Gale.” Veronica thanked her as she took the young female rouge’s hand and kissed it.
“Thank me when we get you lot onto the ship. Remember one hour at the river. Bring nothing else but you and the children.” She lifted her hood back over her head and snuck out of the cottage.
She went back over to her mare and urged her onward to the river to get the boat ready.
But they were unaware that just short of the Sharpe’s cottage, someone was watching them.
As promised, the Sharpe family arrived at the river and when they saw Gale, the older children hugged her and the babies all babbled out her name.
“Ms. Gale mummy and daddy wouldn’t tell us what’s going on?” Laura said.
“Yeah Ms. Gale where are we going?” asked Michael.
“Shh, okay now children listen to me. We’re gonna play a little game okay?”
“What kind of game?” asked Robert skeptically.
“We’re gonna play a quiet game. If you kids can stay as quiet as possible till we reach the docks. One of you will receive a special prize from me.”
“Really? WOW!!” Michael cheered.  Gale shushed him and he quickly covered his mouth.
“Alright now everyone onto the boat. And remember children, not a sound. Not a squeak, a peep, or even laughter. We need to be as quiet as possible.” The children nodded and they piled onto the boat first, then Veronica holding her 4-month-old child, and finally Adam.
Gale stirred the boat and soon the family along with Gale rowed downriver.
All was going good so far till the baby started to cry. Gale grew fearful cause she knew if anyone heard a baby’s cry out here, there would be an investigation.
“Ronnie please quiet Aggie down, we’ll be spotted!” Gale hissed softly.
“Shhh hush my little one.” Veronica tried to calm her crying baby down, but it would take a full 15min till the baby finally went quiet.
“Well we know Luke isn’t going to get the prize.” Michael whispered.
“Michael shush!” Robert hissed.
“Yes Mikey shh!” Laura echoed her brother.
“Children please, not another word.” Adam used his stern father tone on is children.  Finally after what felt like an eternity, they finally reached the docks.
After unloading everyone from the boat, Gale lead them through the docks, ducking the guards who were patrolling to make sure no one got passed them except for the merchant ships that were ready to depart.
When Gale found the sails that Kit told her about that showed the Scottish flag, she told the Sharpe’s to stay low in the shadows while she did the talking with the ship’s captain.
She then walked up to a big built man with long flowing hair who was giving out orders.
“Captain Hagrid?”
“Aye that be me. Who are yah?” he spoke with a thick Scottish accent.
“You spoke with one of my informants about a smuggling job. Goes by the name of the Scot.”
“Ahh you’re the lass he wanted me to smuggle that family for yah.”
“Yes. Now you are to promise me that no harm will befall this family. They have no weapons, only their children.”
“You have my word lass. No harm will come to them.” They shook on it when a horrified piercing scream echoed through the docks.
Gale turned and soon found the royal guard taking the Sharpe’s out of their hiding places and binding them in shackles.  But when broke her heart the most were the children being separated from their parents.
“I’ve always hated that Scot. Plus the Sheriff got to me first before he did.” Hagrid sneered.
“You—you bastard!” Gale quickly took out her knife and sliced the captain’s throat with quick precision before going to the Sharpe’s to help them out.
She knocked out a couple of the guards and freed Adam from his shackles before giving him one of the guard’s swords to him while she withdrew her sword.  The two of them stood protectively in front of Veronica and the children before a neigh was heard from the shadows.
Walking out riding on top of his menacing looking black horse was the Sheriff of Nottingham himself.
“Going somewhere Mr. Sharpe?” his low graveled voice spoke as he stared down at all of them with cold, dead eyes.
“Sheriff of Nottingham……I’m taking my family and we’re leaving. You can’t harm us if we aren’t in England anymore.”
“True. But you haven’t left England yet, have you?” soon one of the guards quickly grabbed Gale under her arms while another knocked Adam over the head sending him down to the ground.
“NOO!!” Veronica screamed.
“DAD! DADDY! PA!” the kids chorused out worriedly.
“ADAM!!”
“Take the Sharpe’s to the jail for refusal of tax payment and for fleeing the country.” The Sheriff said.  They once again shackled Adam’s unconscious body before dragging it away as well as the rest of his family.
The kids all crying out for Gale to help them.  Gale tried as best as she could to get out of the guard’s arms but he kept a tight hold on her.
“Sir, what should we do with this one?” asked one of the guards.
“This gentlemen is the notorious Gale Hood, sister of Robin Hood. Allow me to take her from here. Go rejoin the others in putting the Sharpe’s away. And also see to it that the children get a special accommodations.” The Sheriff said grinning cynically at the last statement.
He knew this would get a rise out of Gale due to her closeness with the family.  When the guards left and the bigger guard released her, she quickly withdrew her bow and notched an arrow in the blink of an eye and had it aimed right between the Sheriff’s eyes.
“You think your life is worth more than theirs?! You’re a demon Sheriff of Nottingham! A vile, prideful, lustful, incubus of Satin. I swear if anyone of those Sharpe children die, I will cut off your cock and force it down your throat!” she snarled threateningly.
The Sheriff spoke not a word, only just looked down before suddenly whipping out his sword and slashing apart Gale’s bow.  She stood there frozen for a split second before withdrawing back her sword but the Sheriff forced her to drop it when he slashed her right arm.
She screamed in pain as she knelt down on the ground gripping her bleeding arm.  The Sheriff got off his horse and just walked over to her and grabbed her hair and forcefully threw her head back.  She hissed and groaned in pain.
“Now this is how a woman should behave. Best to be seen, never heard. And always at the knees of her man.”
“You think I’d willingly suck you off? I wouldn’t touch you to punch you.” she hissed.
“You’ll soon know your place Gale. Just like your whore of a mother did.” She clenched her hand into a fist and punched him right in the dick sending him down to the ground and she quickly raced away from the docks and into the forest.
A chase soon happened as the rain once again became a thunderstorm.  Gale ran as quickly as she could through the forest but the Sheriff was close behind her on his horse.
This time he wouldn’t lose her.
Through the muddy trails, Gale would slip but she’d quickly use it to her advantage as she turned another way while it took his horse awhile to turn back around.  Gale then scaled up a tree and proceeded the jump from branch to branch, but the Sheriff was close behind her.
When she came to a familiar path she jumped down to the ground and slide along the mud but quickly came up and jumped through a narrow opening between the narrow opening of the end of the forest.
The Sheriff’s horse neighed as it reared at the sudden closure of the forest but the Sheriff driven by his hatred and desire to capture at least one of the Hood siblings, tried to find another way out of the forest.
Gale ran across an open field until she reached a graveyard. For just ahead was the church where Friar Tuck would give her sanctuary.  Exhausted and tired from the fighting and getting dizzy from the blood loss in her arm, Gale pushed on till she reached the church.
“SANCTUARY! PLEASE FRIAR TUCK GIVE ME SANCTUARY!!!” she screamed at the top of her lungs over the loud rain and thunder while pounding on the closed doors.  She heard the roar and hoofbeats of the Sheriff’s horse and he was now coming right for her.  
Gale quickly ran to the back towards the graveyard of the church but she didn’t get far.  She felt her cloak being grabbed from behind, choking her before feeling herself get kicked in the back but what sent her into a world of blackness was when she hit her head against a gravestone.
Her mother’s gravestone to be exact.
The Sheriff got off his horse once again and walked towards Gale’s unconscious body.  What was going through his mind at that moment was—pure lust.  But it was soon interrupted with a flash of lightning lit something on her left ring finger.
He looked down at her hand confused and intrigued as he reached out and took her left hand and wiped the mud away to reveal a familiar ring. He gasped and said.
“The Queen’s ring.” His fear then turned to pure disgust as he fully turned Gale onto her back. “To think the Prince would choose you. You’ll never be anything to him. Well after I tell him he beloved committed suicide, I’ll have to help him out of his misery.”
He took out his dagger and raised it over his head.  But before he could plunge it into Gale’s heart, he was hit over the head and knocked off of her unconscious body.
“Get away from my daughter!” a voice snarled at him.  The Sheriff held his head to see that it was bleeding and when he looked up, there was Friar Tuck holding a long candelabra in his hands, standing protectively in front of Gale.
“This is none of your concern Friar. You’ve known from the beginning that their family’s been cursed with black magic!”
“You claim her to be a witch just because of your lustful desires towards their mother all those years ago! You then convinced Richard to proceed with a witch trial and have their mother burned at the stakes when she was completely innocent! If you so much as lay a sinful finger on her again……”
“You’re mighty preachy Friar and you’ll end up preaching yourself right into a hangman’s noose. Now for the last time, stand. Aside.” Friar Tuck refused and swung the candelabra right at the Sheriff’s face.
The two men proceeded to battle it out with each other. The Friar getting a good few shots at either the Sheriff’s face or jabbing him in his gut.
“You want damnation?! I’ll give you damnation!” The Friar yelled at the Sheriff.  But soon the Sheriff grabbed the candelabra and pulled it out of the Friar’s grip and pushed him down to the mud.  He placed his sword at Friar Tuck’s neck and the Sheriff spoke.
“I’ll do you one better. You’re under arrest for high treason to the crown.” He then took out some shackles and placed one around Friar Tuck’s neck.  Knowing he couldn’t fight back anymore, Friar Tuck surrendered to his fate.
The Sheriff then walked over towards Gale’s unconscious body and hauled it over his shoulder before going back to his horse and draped her across the black Shire horse.  
He then walked back over to Friar Tuck and grabbed the chain, then like a dog, led Friar Tuck over to his horse and the three of them left the church.
From inside the church, Anita and Jim who had watched the entire thing stood in shock and horror.  Sister Anita wept into her hands while Father Jim tried to comfort her and the two watched helplessly as their Friar and Gale were taken away by the Sheriff.
At the palace as the thunder continued to softly rumble in the sky, Prince John sat down in his throne room surrounded by his gold coins but had a permanent angry scowl on his face.
If one had to compare, his eyes would be seeing red right at this very moment.  Heston stood by his throne looking up at his master anxiously.
“Sire, if I may—you’re not your usual cheery self today.” The Prince didn’t answer him, just kept his fists clenched till his knuckles turned white. “I know. You haven’t counted your money for days, hmm? That always cheers you up.” Heston then fiddled with some of the gold coins with his tail but still the Prince didn’t even flinch from his throne. “Sire, taxes are pouring in, the jail is full. Oh and guess what sir, Friar Tuck and Gale Hood are in prison.”
“FRIAR TUCK!?!?” Prince John exploded as he knocked down some of his piles of gold when he stood up with rage. “IT’S ROBIN. HOOD I WANT YOU IDIOT!!! Oh I would give all my gold if I could get my hands on—” he stopped when he remembered the second name.  He wet his lips with his tongue as he asked Heston.  “Did you say Gale Hood?”
“Did I? Y-y-yes sire. She was trying to aid an escape for the Sharpe family when the Sheriff stopped them.” Prince John pondered before he exclaimed joyously.
“Ahh! Heston I have it! I’ll use that lascivious sister of his to lure Robin Hood into another genius plan of mine.”
“Another trap sir?” Heston asked hesitantly.
“Yes, yes you stupid serpent. Gale Hood will be led to the gallows in the village square tomorrow and burned at the stake for the crime of witchcraft.”
“But sir. Burn Gale Hood, for witchcraft? Shouldn’t there be a trail for her before we suddenly execute her?”
“I’ve seen it for myself back at the tournament of her witchcraft. And the Sheriff has told me more things she’s done to prove herself a witch. Hell even their own mother was a witch. And when our brave hero comes to rescue his sweet, little sister from the breath of hell’s fire. Ha-ha. My men will be ready. Ah-ha!” Prince John spoke cold and darkly as he stared down at the stake where they’ve used to burn witches in the past while thunder continued to rumble.
*WARNING START OF SCENE. PROCEED WITH CAUTION*
When Gale finally woke up, she found herself in a dark room. At first her vision was blurry but her other senses started to come back, she felt on her wrists and ankles chained down.
She tried pulling on them but she was tightly bound.  She felt on her back she was lying on some sort of bed.
“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t wake up.” Her heart began to beat in fear for when she turned, standing over the bed was the Sheriff staring down at her with lustful eyes.  “If you’re wondering where you are, you’re in the palace. But don’t even bother screaming. Not even your precious Prince will be able to hear your screams.”
At this point Gale was too horrified to even speak, plus she was still out of it from hitting her head as the Sheriff’s face seemed to double even triple through her unfocused vision.  The one thing she did feel was him stroking over her bare arms.
“Such…….beauty. I can see why the young prince would fall for you. Your skin…….so soft. Just like hers was. I wonder,” he then lightly clenched his hand around her throat. “If you can perform as well as her.”
The next thing she knew, he got on top of her, her clothes were being ripped apart and he proceeded to rape her.  No matter how much she tried to fight back, she couldn’t do anything to get the Sheriff off her.
Her screams echoed through the room but no one could hear her. For you see he had taken her to the lowest dungeons the palace had, a place where it’s eternal darkness and emptiness.  Even if the rats and dripping water from the walls don’t make you go mad, the eternal darkness will.
And it was there the Sheriff committed the ultimate sinful action of taking a woman’s innocence before marriage and without consent.
After raping her for over an hour and a half, a knock was soon heard at the door.  He covered Gale’s mouth and hissed down at her.
*END OF SCENE. WORD IS MENTION BUT IT’S NOT ACTUALLY HAPPENING AT THIS POINT*
“Not. A. Word.” He held up his trousers and opened the door just a bit and there stood a guard who relayed Prince John’s decree to the Sheriff. His brow quirked with intrigued and he said to the guard. “Alright, tell the Prince I’ll be setting it up in a moment.”
“Yes sir.” The door closed and the Sheriff told the broken woman.
“Seems you’re finally following in your mother’s footsteps. At dawn you will be burned at the stake and your marriage to the prince will be forgotten. After all why would he want a tainted bride such as you? And even if he did, at least I loosened you up for him.”
After dressing himself and making himself look presentable once again, he left the room and slammed the door behind him and locked it up.
Gale, now a broken shell of her former self allowed the tears to fall down her face as she softly began whimpering brokenly.  
Why didn’t she fight harder? Why was she weak to stop him? Had she just turned around and stopped him back at the church none of this would’ve happened.  It was her fault she had been raped.  It was her fault the Sheriff overpowered her.
It was all her fault.  She thought to herself over and over again.
Someone was walking down towards the cell where Gale was said to be.  The cloaked figure walked through the dark, black hallways with only a torch to light their way.  When the person arrived at the cell, they brought out the key and unlocked it.
The door slowly opened and the person walked inside and knelt down beside Gale.  Their heart broke into a thousand pieces as soon as they saw the broken form of her still body chained up to the bed.  
The person then unlocked her bounds then as soon as she was free, she suddenly lashed out like a wild animal.
Gale knocked the person over and nearly punched their face in when a soft female voice said.
“Gale! Gale! Gale it’s me! It’s Maid Marian!” Her anger suddenly flashed to horror.
“Marian? Oh god I-I-I-I-I…….” Gale quickly got off of her and went over to the corner of the cell and made herself smaller, hoping to disappear into the darkness.
Marian shined the torch towards her and when she saw Gale was stripped of her clothes, exposed to the elements, she set the torch down and unhooked her cloak.
“It’s okay, it’s okay now.” Very cautiously she got closer and closer to Gale and covered her up so that she had her decency back.
“I don’t deserved to be covered in a white cloak. White is pure, untainted, innocent. And I—”
“Stop right there Gale Hood. What has happened to you was—unforgiveable. But it doesn’t make you less of a lady than I am.”
“But Marian…….I—I’m not a…..I’m not a virgin anymore. He’s taken it away from me. I don’t even deserve to even be in your presence.”
“Wrong. You do. Because what you need now more than ever is a friend. Nay your future sister in law. And I will not allow you to degrade yourself like this. God will forgive you because you did not commit the sin of lust. The Sheriff did.”
A sniffle was heard from Gale as she said.
“What if James finds out? What if he won’t—”
“He will not care. If anything, he’ll kill the Sheriff should he find out. In fact, I’ll tell him myself if I……”
“NO!!” Gale snapped out.  She looked down shamefully and gripped the cloak tighter around herself. “He can’t find out. Not like this. I—I should be the one to tell him. Please Marian promise you won’t say a word to James.” Even though every bit of her was wanting to run to James, tell him what the Sheriff had done to his future wife, Marian knew that Gale had to be the one to tell James of what happened tonight.
“I promise.”
“Thank you, sister.” Gale leaned her head against Marian’s chest, right over her heart.  Marian slowly wrapped her arms around Gale and held her little sister in her arms.  
Sending her every bit of comfort she could muster while the two of them sat in the emptiness together.
Outside the village square, the Sheriff of Nottingham along with two of his guards were prepping the stake for a witch burning. The Sheriff stroked the stake with his gloved hand and he said.
“The fox siblings will finally meet their end come daybreak.”
“Sheriff, everything’s in order.” Said one of his guards.
“Excellent.”
“Alms, Alms, Alms for the poor.” A crackly voice spoke up. The three men turned and saw an old blind man coming towards them with his cane poking at the ground and a small mug in his hands. “Oh say now, did me ol ears hear the melodious voice of the Sheriff?”
“Who wants to know?” the Sheriff asked.
“Oh just an old praiser of yours. Being blind, you help keep the thieving scoundrels off the streets after all.”
“Well then…..I suppose you are worth staying around then, aren’t you?” the old man walked closer to the gallows and poked the stage with his cane.
“What’d be going on here?” the old blind man said.
“If you must know old man, we’re finally gonna be rid of one of those thieves once and for all. We’re going to burn Gale Hood.”
“No burn my—” the old man lifted his glasses to reveal Robin Hood but he quickly lowered his glasses back down as soon as the Sheriff burned down and he spoke in the gravelly voice again, “Burn Gale Hood?”
“You bet, at dawn. And maybe it’ll even be a double burning.” Said a smaller, leaner guard.  But the bigger and bulkier one hit him on the head as he snarled lowly.
“Put a cork in it yah wanker.”
“A double burning eh? Who be the other fellow who gets the hellfire?”
“Sheriff, this old man’s asking too many questions!” said the bulky guard as he held his crossbow at Robin.  Robin tried to ease the situation as he said.
“Nahh sonny I didn’t mean no harm by it. But umm…..couldn’t there be trouble if her brother or—even Prince James were to stop it?”
“Well what do you know Sheriff he guessed it. And he even found out about our plans for the young Prince.” The smaller guard laughed out boastfully.
“Oi Nutsy! Button your beak.”
“Oh no need to worry about that. The Sheriff be too crafty, to clever, and too smart for the likes of them says I!” Robin praised the Sheriff who took his compliments like a praise.
“For being blind old man, you sure do know a good character when you see on. Says I.” The Sheriff boasted to himself, while from underneath the hat and glasses, Robin was glaring pure hatred up at the Sheriff. Robin then snuck away carefully as the bulkier guard told him.
“Sheriff. I still got a feeling that this old coot knows too much.”
“Oh shut up Jacob. He’s just a harmless old blind beggar.” Robin then continued his mantra of calling out alms for the poor as he tried to guide himself out.  When he reached the exit, in the shadows stood the rest of the Merry Men.
“Rob!” Little John softly called out.  Robin quickly stood by his men as Little John continued, “We can’t let them burn Gale.”
“A jailbreak, tonight. Is her only chance.” Robin said as he removed the glasses from his face.
“A jailbreak!?” said Gilbert and Kit in unison.
“Robin there’s no way we can…….”
“Boys we’ve got to!” Robin hissed at them as he removed his raggedy hat.  “I promised myself that I wouldn’t lose Gale the same way we lost our mother.”
His men looked at him apprehensively but they all looked at Gale like a sister and couldn’t bare it if she were to burn at the stake.
“What’s the plan?” asked Little John.
“In order for that to happen, we’re gonna need three more players.”
“You don’t mean…..” David said.
“Yes.”
“It’s too risky. What if—”
“If James finds out, he’ll immediately jump at the chance to help. Besides he’s involved already. If he dies, King Richard’s line comes to an end. And we’ll be stuck with Prince John and the Sheriff till England burns to the ground.”
“Robin’s right. But—how are we gonna get into the palace, break into the jail, free Gale as well as the people without being seen?” Gilbert asked.
Together the five men left to regroup and carefully plan out their jailbreak.  And time was of the essence.
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devourer--of--books · 5 years
Text
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
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Dreaming While I Wake
Sanders Sides Foster Care AU - Roman-centric Angst & Hurt/Comfort & Abuse Recovery
Roman tries to be upbeat and hopeful despite all the shit that’s happened to him. And a lot of shit has. Luckily, his new foster home is with two literal rays of sunshine (and a sarcastic asshole). 
Chapter 10
chapter 1 for new readers - ffn mirror
tags: @bunny222
  Virgil took very long strides on the way to campus this morning. Roman was lucky he was quick, because Virgil has long-ass legs. It was a few blocks away, not really a terrible walk. Roman hated being up this early, though. He and Virgil didn’t even sign to each other. Roman was pretty sure Virgil would also give anything right now to go back to bed, just based on his glower and the way he kept seeming to lose focus.   Roman wasn’t doing any better. Roman kept yawning and accidentally tripping on uneven parts of the sidewalk. Virgil didn’t even make fun of him. Roman hadn’t known him that long, but Virgil never missed an opportunity to until now. Mondays, maybe. Or just mornings. Roman wasn’t sure it mattered. Maybe Virgil was mad at having to show Roman the way to campus early. He didn’t seem to care when Thomas asked him to, though. But Roman didn’t have the best read on him. The parts of the night he managed to sleep he had his patented nightmares again, so it just a step above complete insomnia.   When they got to campus, Virgil quickly veered off down a hall without waving bye as Roman headed to the front office. The exhausted-looking administrative personal looked up when he stepped in.   “Um, Roman Reinhart?” Roman said warily.   “On the right, first door on the left. Councilor's office,” She said, pointing behind her to the hall on the right, not looking away from her computer screen. Roman nodded and shuffled quickly down the hall, peeking through the cracked open door.   “Oh, Mr. Reinhart?” The man at the desk asked. Roman nodded and stepped in. “Alright, we’ve just put you in the core classes that we had spots left in based on the transcript from your last school. You just have to pick your electives. You can keep taking art if you like, there’s room in the class. This school doesn’t have Latin, so you can’t keep taking that one. There’s no room in Spanish II this semester year, but you can take it next year. You only need two language credits to graduate. Colleges like a balanced transcript, so trying something new wouldn’t be a bad idea. Pick two,” The councilor handed Roman a piece of paper with the remaining available electives. Roman just stared at them, dumbfounded. He didn’t know what he was interested in and he wasn’t even sure he’d be here long. Roman looked up at the counselor, looking at him expectantly and somewhat annoyed.   “Um, yeah, art, and uh, choir?” Roman said, picking the first thing that came to mind before the councilor got mad at him. The councilor took back the sheet and typed at his computer in silence while Roman sat there awkwardly. He probably thought of choir because of what Patton said. Maybe if Roman signed up for the stuff Patton wanted him to, he could… that was probably too much to hope. It was just a gut decision. But he could give it a shot. At least he could know if he liked choir or not before they kicked him out. It’s not like he was doing stellar in Latin. “Uh, I’d like to do cross-country, maybe? I’m sure I missed tryouts. How would I join?” Roman asked tentatively.   “Ask the PE teacher after class. You’ve got PE just before lunch, so you should have plenty of time to get it sorted out,” He said, continuing to work on his computer. After a few more uncomfortable moments, the ancient printer finally spewed out a class schedule.   “Here you go, kid. Maps and school calendar are on the wall in the front office. You’ve got about a couple minutes until the first warning bell goes off, so try to familiarize yourself with the map. You’ve got 8 minutes between classes to get where you need to go. Here’s your locker assignment. There’s no room in the sophomore locker hall so you’re with the junior lockers on the second floor,” He handed Roman a little slip of paper with a combination on it and the locker number.   “The teachers should already know to expect you, except for in art and choir. If you just ask them your seating assignment before the bell goes off and you should be golden,” Roman nodded and stepped back out of the office to grab the map off the wall and start trying to navigate this monster of a school. —   Roman sighed and picked at his school lunch as he sat alone at the edge of the cafeteria. He’d met some nice people in his morning English class, but they didn’t share his lunch period. Roman wouldn’t mind eating alone so much if it didn’t look like he was literally the only person doing it. He’d done this a million times before, so he knew he’d eventually find a friend group to tolerate him. But the first few weeks always sucked. And the food sucks. This breadtangle of pizza was soggy and gross, and what even was on these green beans? Why were they slimy? The texture of everything was pretty disgusting. He’ll need to ask Virgil what’s edible here before lunch tomorrow.   The PE teacher told Roman to come after school to practice to try out, and Roman kind of looked forward to that. They didn’t meet every day and the PE teacher said anyone who could run under an eight-minute mile could join. Roman had never timed himself before, but he was pretty certain he could do that. It would be nice to do something he was okay at for a change instead of always fucking up. He was still nervous about choir later this afternoon, but he knew he could run. You don’t have to try out for choir or anything, but he still didn’t want to find out he was a bad singer. It was probably a poor decision. Stupid impulsiveness.   Roman’s stomach turned as he forced down the food. It was vile, completely, and the texture was a nightmare that made his skin crawl, but he couldn’t throw it out and waste food. He still had some free time before the next bell, so he went to go sit outside. He needed some fresh air for the nausea from lunch. The cafeteria was really loud, and it was wearing on him, too. Roman sat back under a tree in some weird wood chip garden and took a deep breath of the autumn air. It was at least a good thing it wasn’t too far into the semester so he could catch up easier. But he will have an unbearable amount of homework this week. Roman leaned back and closed his eyes, trying to get a brief rest before lunch was over. —   Roman stretched out nervously. He was in kind of tight jeans and not exactly prepared for this, but he was just supposed to run with the others, keep in his lane, and clear 8 minutes, and then the PE teacher would make her decision. The regular-track kids were also here, and they were staggering start times to share the space. Roman watched football practice on the field while the track kids started off. He took a deep breath and joined the cross-country kids as the starting lines, waiting for the teacher’s whistle to take off.   Roman started running at the whistle, and some kids took off much faster than him, but Roman didn’t want to tear these pants. They were possibly just trying to show off, because they slowed down as the group turned the corner, and Roman pulled ahead with a smirk. He got a glower from one of the ones he passed, but the other held up his thumbs and looked pretty excited. As he turned the final corner, Roman ran faster to try to make sure he stayed under 8 minutes. Another two kids beat him to the finish line, but the exact middle of the pack was a good sign.   “Roman! 5:48!” The PE teacher called, walking up to him while he caught his breath at the edge of the track.   “What, really?” Roman smiled. He probably could keep going, too.   “You’re welcome to join if you’d like,” She said, sounding excited. “That’s an impressive time for a newbie,”   “I, yeah, yes,” Roman stammered.   “Well, go ahead and queue up with the same pack to run it again slower, and come to my office after practice so we can get the paperwork. You need parents’ permission to join so I’ll need you to bring back a signed form. You can drop it off during PE tomorrow or the next meet on Wednesday,” She said and Roman nodded excitedly and walked over with the pack.   “Hey, congratulations, dude!” One of them smiled. “I’m Toby,” He drank some water. Roman didn’t have the forethought to bring water out and felt like a thirsty idiot.   “Roman,��� He smiled brightly.   “You’ve got pretty good form, did you run at another school?” Another boy asked. “Seth’s the name,”   “No, just a, uh, hobbyist,” Roman said as dismissively as he could manage.   “I can tell from the fact you’re wearing jeans,” Another boy scoffed.   “I didn’t expect to be able to try out as soon as I asked,” Roman rolled his eyes. “Maybe you should worry how fast I’d go with practice,” Roman smirked. Seth and Toby laughed.   “Yeah, chill out, Nolan. Roman’s new,” Toby said, patting him on the back.   “Ugh, whatever,” Nolan rolled his eyes and started stretching out again.   “That’s Augustine, call her Aggie or she’ll tackle you. The last one is Julie. She thinks she’s better than all of us so don’t bother talking to her,” Seth, Toby, and Aggie laughed and Julie scoffed.   “I am better than all of you,” Julie flipped him off quickly and went back to stretching.   “So why’d you pick cross-country over track?” Seth asked.   “Tracks get boring. I’m an urban runner if anything,” Roman shrugged.   “Same. We practice on a track pretty often and I get sick of it quick. Other than running around campus, they bus us out to a hiking trail or send us back to the obstacle course sometimes, unlike track, though,” Seth shrugged.   “An obstacle course?” Roman’s face lit up.   “Yeah, dude, it’s pretty cool. It’s splinter city, but it’s a pretty big course. Some other schools in the district even come out here to use it,” Seth smiled.   “We have a friendly competition about obstacle course times if you’re interested,” Nolan smirked mischievously.   “He’s literally never run it before, it’s not fair to him,” Toby rolled his eyes.   “No, I’m interested,” Roman said, eying Nolan suspiciously.   “It’s nothing major. Loser accepts any dare the winner chooses,” Nolan said with a small shrug.   “Shit, dude, that’s fine by me,” Roman laughed. He’d probably do any dare he was given anyway, he had shit impulse control and was very aware of that fact.   “Cool,” Toby laughed, and they walked to the track to wait for their start again. —   Roman’s mouth was dry as hell by the time he got back to Thomas and Patton’s house. He chugged some very metallic water from the fountain after practice, but he had that whole paperwork thing, and then jogging back defeated him. Lita barked excitedly as Roman came in. Roman bent down to scratch her head and made a bee-line to the kitchen to chug some water.   “Roman? Is that you?” Thomas called.   “Mm-hmm,” Roman grunted between gulps of water.   “I was surprised not to see you come in with Virgil,” Thomas said, walking into the kitchen.   “Patton told me I should try out for cross-country or something,” Roman said, pouring another cup of water.   “Oh, did you?” Thomas asked curiously.   “Yeah,” Roman breathed. “I don’t want to bother you or anything but there’s stupid stuff to sign so I can join,” Roman kicked his foot lightly into the tile.   “Oh, you passed the tryouts?” Thomas beamed. “Congratulations! I’m happy to sign a permission slip. Oh, we should probably get you some running gear. Did you really run in those jeans? I’m surprised they didn’t rip,” Thomas asked, sounding concerned.   “It was kind of a last-minute decision,” Roman huffed. “I don’t need anything,” Roman rubbed his arm awkwardly.   “Roman, half your clothes barely fit you from what I’ve seen,” Thomas said critically.   “I had a growth spurt at 14 and I probably will again soon,” Roman said dismissively, backing up a bit.   “That doesn’t mean we have to wait until your clothes don’t fit at all,” Thomas frowned. “Virgil, back me up here,” He asked Virgil as he walked past them to the fridge.   ‘About what?’ Virgil signed. ‘That Roman is an idiot?’ Roman rolled his eyes.   “I don’t think he was listening,” Roman took another drink of water.   “That Roman doesn’t need to wear clothes until he explodes out of them like the hulk,” Thomas said emphatically.   ‘That’d be cool to see, can you do that?’ Virgil signed, and Roman laughed.   “He’s not backing me up, is he?” Thomas huffed. Virgil saluted them and left the kitchen with a drink and chewing on something from the fridge.   “I think he’s on his own team,” Roman chuckled. “You just got me some clothes, it’s fine,”   “We got you two outfits worth, Roman, and if I knew most of your shirts were nearly see-through, I would have pushed for more,” Thomas frowned.   “I- I don’t…” Roman trailed off.   “You don’t what?” Thomas asked, leaning against the counter and looking at Roman in a way that just unnerved him.   “I didn’t… I don’t,” Roman stammered and drank his water nervously. He couldn’t say it. He left the kitchen. Thomas doesn’t want to hear it.   “Roman?” Thomas asked, following him. Roman headed upstairs and closed himself in his room. Thomas didn’t follow, luckily. Roman didn’t want to disappoint him again. He thought running would be free and just need to bother them one time. He didn’t realize the clothes were such a big deal. Roman leaned against the door and dropped his backpack on the floor next to him. He slightly pulled his hair as he ran his hands through it.   Roman slid down against the door and held his knees close to his chest. He didn’t have to join cross country. He could probably still back out. The sheet isn’t signed or anything. He wanted to make Patton happy, but Roman was used to being a disappointment. It was better than being a burden. Roman sighed and got up, picking up his backpack and dragging it to the desk. He had a shit-ton of homework to do and didn’t have time to mope. —   “Want to help us pick what to make for dinner?” Patton asked through the door after a quick knock. Roman rubbed his eyes, uncrossing them after looking up from his textbook.   “Too much homework. I’m fine with whatever,” Roman called back and glanced back down at his textbook. He fought the urge to just bash his head into it to try to force it into his brain physically.   “Maybe you should take a break, kiddo,” Patton replied. Roman managed to bite his tongue before he said he was fine again, but he did literally bite his tongue and it kind of hurt. He held open his mouth and felt it pulse slightly, but it didn’t taste like it was bleeding. “Roman?”   “Ah bit mah tongue,” Roman tried to reply. “Sorree,”   “Is it bleeding?” Patton asked with concern through the door.   “Nah, jus’ hur’,” Roman said and took a big drink of water. “Is good,”   “Can I get you some ice water for it?” Patton asked.   “No, is already fadin’,” Roman said and took another drink.   “Okay. I’ll come get you for dinner, then. Let us know if you need help with your homework,” Patton said.   “Kay,” Roman called back and rubbed his eyes again before getting back to catching up to the classwork. Why can’t teachers all use the same syllabus so Roman doesn’t have to do this all the time? Roman sighed. His eyes hurt from reading all this shit. Packets at least are the easiest way to do classwork and some of his teachers game him some. It’s like a scavenger hunt for answers in the textbook. What he wouldn’t give for some skittles right now, though. He was running out of steam. He was just going to finish this page and take a break. There was no way he could finish all this tonight, anyway.   Roman came down the stairs and waved awkwardly to Thomas as Roman passed his office. Thomas didn’t notice him, though. He headed into the kitchen, instead.   “Hey, are you okay if I take Lita on a quick run?” Roman said, pulling a water bottle out of the fridge.   “Go ahead, kiddo. Sounds like a nice break,” Patton said, stirring something savory smelling on the stove. Lita was wagging her tail brightly at Roman’s feet and made a very cute noise when Roman reached for the leash on the hook.   “Who’s a marvelous girl,” Roman cooed and scratched behind her ear before hooking up her leash. “See ya,” He waved to Patton before being nearly yanked out of the house by Lita.   Running in the cool evening air was much nicer than any other time of day. Lita was boisterously bolting as fast as Roman would let her go as usual. She stopped at the same stop sign and fire hydrant again. Dogs really were creatures of habit. Humans, too, probably. Roman kind of wished he had that kind of stability to get habits. He got a cute photo of her hopped up on a rock and barking at a squirrel up in the tree that threw something at her. She growled and Roman gave her leash a few gentle tugs and she jumped off and walked away from the squirrel angrily.   They settled back into a run after she was done fuming about the squirrel’s audacity. Which was very funny and lifted Roman’s mood a bit. The run helped clear his head, though not much. He probably should have thought to try running for fun instead of for work before. It was nicer than just working out in his room. Having a dog to run with was likely what made this nice, though. They turned the corner and Roman pushed himself to sprint as fast as possible to squeeze that last bit of run out of Lita. She raced excitedly up to the door, panting happily as she came inside. She trotted happily to the kitchen to get some water, and Roman followed.   “We’re back,” Roman said to Patton as he passed to the fridge for more cold water.   “Hey, there, kiddo! Did you have a nice run?” Patton smiled.   “Yeah, weather is nice outside right now,” Roman said and enjoyed some water. “Check out this photo I got of Lita yelling at a squirrel for throwing an acorn or something at her,” Roman said and pulled up the photo on his phone.   “Oh!” Patton cooed. “She’s got such an angry little face!” Patton squatted down to pet Lita. “Did that mean old squirrel assault you?” He rubbed her head and neck between both hands and Lita wagged her tail in a wide arc and licked his hand. Patton got up to wash his hands with a smile. “Send me that, wouldja?”   “Oh, sure,” Roman shrugged and sent it to Patton, then washed his hands right after him. “Do you need any help with dinner?”   “Nah, I’ve got it,” Patton shook his head and went back to cooking.   “Um, let me know if you do,” Roman mumbled and left the kitchen. He really didn’t want to go back to homework just yet. Dinner smelled good, and he was feeling lazy. Roman flopped down on the couch with the family laptop, opting for Minecraft. He probably didn’t have enough time to play the adventure game for long, but he could play creative mode for a bit.   Virgil came downstairs while Roman was working on his mansion behind a waterfall and leaned forward on the couch, watching Roman build as he laid across the couch with the laptop.   “You need the laptop or something?” Roman asked, trying to turn his head to see the answer. Virgil stuck his arm out to sign ‘no’ almost like a hand puppet. Roman shrugged and went back to placing the carpet pattern. Virgil stayed and watched, which was unexpected. Mostly because Virgil was willingly standing within three feet of Roman. He’d probably bolt if Roman made any sudden moves. Roman would, at least. Roman gave him a confused look, but he just shrugged in response. Virgil just watched quietly as Roman kept placing blocks.    Roman was putting vines on some marble pillars when Patton interrupted him.   “Dinner’s ready,” Patton called from the kitchen. Roman saved and quit while Virgil headed into the kitchen. Whatever it was, it smelled good. Roman put the laptop back on the side table and went to go eat dinner.
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golbrocklovely · 5 years
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twisted // colby brock - chapter five
A/N: sorry this is bit late but HOLY SHIT DO THINGS CHANGE DURING THIS CHAPTER. I kinda love this chapter because you learn a lot in it. this story is so fun to write because your girl here loves a mystery. anyway lol let me know what you think of the story. I think I might start posting this story every week instead of every other week just because I KNOW after this chapter, yall will want the next one soon. I’ll see yall later ;)
description of the story
taglist: @absolute-randomness-forever , @far-to-many-bands , @itsmoony , @mellissalox
trigger warning: just overall creepy, cursing
word count: 1803
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Colby’s POV
“I can’t believe that mall was a bust.” Sam sighed, running a hang through his hair.
I nodded my head. “Yeah. I thought online people said there was no security. Maybe too many people kept breaking in.”
Sam smirked. “You mean people like us?”
“Ha ha,” I laughed sarcastically. “So, we still planning to leave tomorrow?”
“Yep. Once we get home and eat, we can pack up and be ready. Are we gonna tell Angel that we’re only going to a couple towns over to a different hotel until our plane leaves Tuesday?” He questioned, turning to me.
“I haven’t said anything to her, but I have a feeling she won’t mind. Ever since we filmed last night, I have this gut feeling something’s off about Smitty.” I shook my head, my eyes glaring at the road.
“I think you’re reading into him too much.” Sam disagreed.
“I mean think about it,” I glanced over at Sam, who’s eyes were on me still. “How did it just so happen he was able to come in just as we were hearing all the bangs? Isn’t that a little strange to you?”
“Yeah, I guess. But he’s harmless. If he was gonna do something to us, he would have done it by now.” Sam argued.
“I don’t know, Sam. Something isn’t right about him. That’s why we gotta leave and just stay somewhere else. Find another abandon place to explore and then get the fuck out of Washington on Tuesday.” I grunted.
“That’s the plan.” Sam paused, mumbling to himself as he looked out the window. “I didn’t know there was a cemetery in this town.”
I noticed. “Apparently…”
I gradually lowered the car’s speed, passing by the graveyard slowly. Most of the graves were kept up very well, the names being easy to see. Suddenly, we passed by one that made me abruptly stop the car and pull over.
“What’s wrong?” Sam yelled.
I jumped out of the car and ran over to the fence, hopping over it hastily. I could hear Sam following suit, calling out to me. I stopped at a grave, staring at it.
“Dude, what’s wrong? What are you looking at?” Sam turned his head to the headstone in front of us.
 Agatha Smith
1969 – 1991
Loving Sister, Daughter, Friend
an angel has found its wings to go home
 “Smitty had a sister?” I whispered.
“Who are you?”
We both turned around to see an old man with a shovel in his hand. He was wearing overalls and gardener gloves.
Sam cleared his throat. “Um, we’re… tourist. We’re here for the-”
“Smith Bed and Breakfast. I know, I know. There’s no other reason to come here really. What’s your names?” The man questioned, gazing at the both of us.
“I’m Sam and he’s Colby.” Sam introduced.
The man nodded. “I’m John. Who’s grave are you looking at?”
We moved to the side lightly, showing him. He stepped closer.
A smile almost came to his lips. “Aggie… she really was an angel in this here town.”
“What did she die of? Do you know?” I jumped in.
“I know everything about this town. I’ve lived here my whole life and have buried most of the people here, including her.” He hissed, stumbling slightly.
Sam and I glanced at each other. “How did she die?”
“She was killed in a car crash. Her father was in the car with her. He was the only one that survived.” John admitted, walking away from us.
“What happened to her father? Where is he?” Sam and I followed him.
“According to Smitty, a couple years after she died, he left. He couldn’t handle the grief of losing his daughter. He never returned. He would be about 86 right now, so God knows if he’s alive.” John informed.
“Can you tell us more about Smitty? And the town maybe?” I chimed in again.
John stopped abruptly. “What would you like to know?”
I needed to ask something simple. I didn’t want him getting angry and leaving us unanswered. “Why does Deb bring food to him all the time?”
“She loves him like a son. She was never able to have children of her own. And Aggie used to work at the diner when it first opened.” John chuckled, continuing. “From what I heard Aggie told Deb to watch over Smitty and make sure he was okay. Smitty doesn’t leave his property. Ever.”
“What’s Smitty’s real name?” Sam blurted out.
John paused, and then spoke. “I don’t think I know. He’s always gone by Smitty, even when he was a kid. The only person that called him by his real name was his sister. I think George would know it.”
“George?” We both asked.
“The Sheriff. He usually hangs out at the diner during his dinner break.” John motioned with his hand.
I remembered the police officer, lightly tapping Sam. “We saw him when we first came here. Why would he know it?”
“He used to date Aggie and was with her the night before she died. Afterwards, he shut himself off from the world, and never went back to that house. Didn’t even go to her funeral.” John muttered.
“Does he hate Smitty?” Sam questioned, his face full of worry.
John stared at us. No emotion on his face… almost like he was looking through us.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he thought Smitty was the reason for Aggie’s death.”
~ / / ~
After our conversation with John, we drove off, quickly pulling up to the looming Victorian house in the forest.
I turned off the car. “Dude. Before we go in, I need to be honest with you.”
“What is it?” Sam mumbled.
I exhaled. “I think we need to leave tonight.”
“Colby, I think you’re-” Sam started.
I cut him off. “I don’t care if I’m overreacting. All the shit John told us and you still don’t believe something’s off about Smitty?”
Sam sighed. “Maybe the reason why he’s so weird is because he lost his sister and father when he was young. That would make you act strange around people too.”
I groaned. “But think about it, Sam: John told us that Smitty never leaves the house. Where the fuck did he go last night when we filmed?”
“He said he went to the diner.” Sam uttered unsure.
“Like hell he did!” I exclaimed. “He stayed here, probably in the basement and fucked around with us. I mean, the Ouija board said the letter A was talking to us. Who do you think is that?”
“…Aggie.” He whispered.
“Exactly. Maybe we really talked to her spirit, who the fuck knows. But I don’t want to stay around to find out, that’s for fucking sure.” I hissed, my anxiety reaching its peak.
“Alright. We’ll leave tonight.” He agreed.
We exited the car and went into the house. I could hear rustling coming from the kitchen. We walked in to find Smitty heating up Deb’s stew.
“Oh, hey guys! How are you?” Smitty grinned.
“We’re good, Smitty. Um, we wanted to talk to you about us checking out. We actually have to leave tonight.” I stated.
His face dropped, a dramatic frown coming to his lips. “Oh no. Is something wrong?”
“Yeah. Uhm, family emergency back home. Sam’s girlfriend Kat broke her leg and we need to fly home tonight.” I lied.
Sam nodded his head. “Uh, yeah. She’s in a lot of pain and misses me-all of us, a lot.”
“That’s terrible. Well, I wish her a speedy recovery.” Smitty replied calmly.
“Thank you.” Sam muttered.
Smitty clapped his hands, smiling again. “Before you guys go, why don’t you have some dinner? Angel and I were gonna have some right before you came in.”
“I don’t think we should.” I spoke.
Smitty waved his hand at us, chuckling. “Oh relax. It’s gonna take an hour to get to the airport anyway, you might as well eat before you go.”
I held back my eye roll. “Alright. But we’ll have to eat fast.”
“Hey, no problems here.” Smitty shook his head.
Sam and I went and sat down. I pulled out my phone and texted Angel.
Colby: come down stairs and eat. we have a lot to tell you and we need to leave ASAP.
Smitty came out to the kitchen with two bowls and placed them in front of us. We nodded a ‘thank you’ at him.
“I’ll go upstairs and get Angel, let her know you guys are here.” He said, almost giddy.
Before I could tell him about my text, he left. I turned to Sam. “Does he seem a bit weirder than usual?”
“Yeah. He seems a little too happy. Maybe he knows something’s up.” Sam noted, his voice hushed.
I sighed, aggravated. “Fuck. Let’s just eat fast and go upstairs to pack.”
We sat there taking bites of the soup rapidly. A couple bites in, a bitter taste rose up in my mouth.
I held back a gag. “Does this taste funny to you?”
Sam shook his head. “No.”
I shrugged and ate a couple more bites. Smitty came back into the room, somehow still smiling.
“Angel said she’s just finishing up my book and she’ll be coming shortly.” He informed.
I nodded my head. Taking a couple more bites, I finally looked up at Sam. He was swaying back and forth ever so slightly, and his eyes were glazed over. He looked out of it.
Sam tried to focus his eyes on me as he talked. “I.. don’t feel sooo good. I think I’m gonn-”
Smitty caught Sam before he could fall out of his chair. “Woah there Sam. You okay? Why don’t I help you?”
“Sam? Are you alright?” I asked as Smitty pulled Sam from his chair.
“He’s fine. Just a bit…” Suddenly, Smitty let go of Sam, his body slamming onto the floor. “…tired.”
“Sam!” I jumped up, only to lose my balance. My legs felt like jello, almost completely numb. I crawled over to him. “Sam? Sam, what’s wrong?”
I stared down at Sam, turning him over with all of my strength. His eyes were shut tight. He was out cold. Everything around me started to slow down and blur, like I was plastered. I could barely keep my body upright. My energy was draining.
“Angel?! Angel…” I tried to yell out. My voice barely left my throat.
“She can’t hear you.” Smitty stated, his voice was dark.
“What the fuckk did you dooo?” I slurred up at Smitty. My eyes could barely stay open.
He smirked, turning his head to the side. He leaned down, “Don’t worry. Angel will be fine. I’ll take care of her.”
I felt my arms give out and my eyes roll back into my head, darkness overtaking me.
<< CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 6 >>
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aparticularbandit · 2 years
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Finding Family: Part Five: Chapter Twenty-Six
Summary: When America begins universe-hopping again to try and find her moms, she realizes that’s too much scope for her.  She looks for smaller scope, and instead she finds Wanda.
AO3
“So who do you see yourself as?” her mama asks just as they finish another episode of One Day at a Time.
Sitcom Marathon Day turns out to be like a rotating, communal binge.  They start with one series, follow it until they get tired, and then switch to something else.  Sometimes, they get tired within only a few episodes; sometimes, they only see one episode, not really caring about more than that; and sometimes, they stick on one series for a long time.  No one has particularly decided to move on from this series yet, although America suspects if Wanda were here, she would be tired of it.  But Wanda still hasn’t shown up, which…makes her uncomfortable.
“See myself as?” America echoes, blinking as the credits roll.  She turns to her mama.  “Do I have to see myself as any of them?”
“No,” her mom says, blunt as always.  “You don’t.  I hope I’m nothing like any of them.”
America presses her mouth shut and doesn’t say anything.  Ironically enough, if she had to choose anyone, Elena reminds her of her mom – but it’s more than just the name, it’s the whole insistence sort of thing.  How sure she is about how right she is about everything and how much she will do, sometimes, to get it.  But that’s not something she can say to her mom.
“Well, I think I’m that adorable Schneider fellow,” Dr. Harkness says, leaning further into her corner of the couch.  “Part of the family, but not really part of the family.”
Amalia sighs.  “We’ve been over this, Aggy.  You’re family.  Aunty Aggy, remember?”
“Right, right.”  Dr. Harkness waves a hand dismissively.  “I remember.”  But she says it with a tone that suggests no matter how much America’s moms say it, she’ll always feel…separate.  No one comments on this.
America raises an eyebrow and turns to Dr. Harkness.  “You don’t have a creepy snow globe with a picture of us in it, do you?  Or one of those picture puzzles?”
Dr. Harkness’s brows raise, and she covers her lips with one finger.  “Sh. It’s a secret.”
“You know, actually, Aggy, I think you’re more like Lydia,” Amalia says, head tilting as she turns to consider the other woman.  “Loud.  Hilarious.”
“Old?” America interjects before her mama can finish.  “Thinks everyone is in love with her?”
“Everyone is in love with me, toots.” Dr. Harkness winks at her, and America shivers.
But America’s mama shakes her head.  “Flirts with everyone, maybe.”
Elena groans and presses her fingertips to her forehead.  “Don’t remind me.”
“Oh, I haven’t—”  Dr. Harkness tilts her head to one side.  “Thirty minutes, at least.  An entire episode!”
 It’s a snapshot.
America loves her moms – and she’s learning that she doesn’t exactly hate Dr. Harkness – but with Vision and Wanda and the twins gone, she’s alone with what is basically her moms and their friend. Even if Wanda were here, sure, she’s closer to her age, but she’s not….
It’s awkward.  It’s really awkward.  And Wanda being here wouldn’t help that at all.
America has never really been the kind of kid who enjoyed spending time with a bunch of adults, and as much as she’s enjoying sharing One Day at a Time with them, she can’t help but think she would rather be somewhere else.  With someone else.  Wanda and Vision wouldn’t help with that.  It would still feel awkwardly like being placed into someone else’s family and expected to act like she’s been there the entire time, like she’s always been part of this family when she…hasn’t.
And the longer Wanda isn’t there, the more uncomfortable America gets. Wanda should be back by now.  It’s just a check-up, isn’t it?  Sure, there are two twins, but if it’s an appointment, it shouldn’t take this long.  It’s been hours.  Not that…not that America really remembers what it’s like to go to a doctor’s appointment for anything.  It’s been a really long time since she’s been to one.  So maybe…maybe it should take this long.
It doesn’t matter.
Eventually, America grows tired – not of the show; she feels like she could binge more of that than the women seeing it with her are – but of being around all of them.  That sounds bad.  Maybe it is bad.  But that doesn’t make it any less true.
America yawns without covering her mouth and stretches her arms high above her head.  “I’m gonna go to my room,” she says finally, somewhere in the middle of the second season, during the credits of one of the episodes.
Her mama turns to her, one eyebrow raising.  “You don’t want to see the rest of this?”
“Nah.  I’ve seen it before,” America lies.  Well. It’s not entirely lying.  She has seen it before, but she’s seen it on another universe, and things were a little bit different there.  More than a little bit different there.  Different enough that sometimes she feels like she’s seeing an entirely different show, and while she still likes it, it’s not the same comforting feeling that the show normally provides her.  She stretches out of her armchair, leans back with her hands on the small of her back until she feels the slightest pop, and then yawns again.  “I didn’t sleep well,” she continues to lie, “and I just….  I want to get more rest, you know?”
“Bad dreams?” Dr. Harkness asks in a tone that sounds lackadaisical.  She doesn’t look up from the screen, doesn’t look at America at all, and that almost makes it worse.
America presses her lips together.  She hasn’t told her moms that she’s stopped having dreams again, hasn’t wanted to let them know that anything was amiss.  “Um.  Yeah?” She looks to her moms.  “Something like that.”
Dr. Harkness nods.  “I get them, too.  They’ll go away eventually.”
Then, without warning, the voice returns straight into her head, The problem with growing old is that so many other versions of yourself die off.  I like to think there’s good in me, but so many of the versions who’ve lived as long as I have are bad.  Dr. Harkness raises a hand and picks at dirt under her nails, fingertips still that inky black color.  I suppose that must mean—
America shivers.  “Maybe I’ll see you later?” she interrupts the voice in her head, speaking out loud. She glances over to the other woman.
Dr. Harkness finally looks up at her.  She offers her the smallest of smiles, and there’s no mirth to it at all, no crinkling at the edges of her eyes.  “Sure thing, doll.”
And somehow, America can feel the certainty of that in the pit of her chest as she walks upstairs, not made any better by the voice resounding in her mind, Even if it’s not me you meet.
 America stretches out on her bed.  She looks up at the ceiling and regrets that she doesn’t have a baseball or a stress ball or something like that to just toss into the air and catch over and over again.  Downstairs, she can still hear her moms and Dr. Harkness talking, starting another sitcom – she’d know the sounds of One Day at a Time if they were still binging it, and whatever they’re seeing, it’s something different.  A part of her wants to go back and join them just because it’s dreadfully boring in her room, but she doesn’t think it would be any better with them.
She’s right in the middle of letting out a huge sigh and curling up on her side in an attempt to maybe take a nap that she hears the front door slam.  America sits upright in her bed, eyes wide, but barely has a moment to move before Vision phases through the floor into her room.  She scoots back against her headboard, eyes wide.  “What is it?” she asks, covering herself up with her comforter, even though she’s completely decent.  “What’s wrong?”
“You need to go,” Vision says, meeting her eyes with his own bright blue ones. “Wanda’s providing a good distraction, but—”
“But?”  America blinks, staring at him.  “Distraction from what?”
Vision glances back to the door.  He gives a little shake of his head.  “Maybe nothing,” he says, tone firm, “but maybe something.”  He stares straight at her.  “Her dreams this morning were not good, and she had another one during our appointment, while she was waiting….” His voice trails off.
Wendy’s missing.
America recognizes the voice as Wanda’s immediately, and she looks around but doesn’t see anyone.  I thought I told you I didn’t want you to—
You need to go, Wanda interrupts, insistent.  Now. It’s almost as if she’s in the room with them instead of downstairs.  Ash—  Her thoughts are cut off immediately, as though someone has severed their connection.
“But my moms,” America says, swallowing hard.  “I haven’t told them.”
“There’s no time.”  Vision reaches over and places a hand atop her knee.  “You can always come back.  But right now, you need to—”
“Right.”  America moves out of her bed.  She stands, legs spread out, and clenches one hand into a fist.  It would be nice to feel her magic the way that Wendy and Wanda have with theirs, letting it thread in and through her fingertips like a ribbon – a bright blue-white instead of their scarlet.  She hesitates, staring at her fist, and then takes a deep breath.
You can do it, she hears in her head.  Just go.
America takes another deep breath and focuses on Wendy.  If she’s missing, then she wants to go wherever she is.  Focus on Earth-616 and focus on Wendy, and she should be able to go wherever it is Wendy’s gone.  She can do it.
She can do this.
America punches forward.  She feels the universe shatter like glass as a star-shaped portal opens wide in front of her.  The universe below her looks nothing like she expected – it’s still Earth-616; she knows that much, but it’s not Scarlet’s house.  Of course, it isn’t, not if Wendy’s missing, but….
She can almost make out the Sanctum Sanctorum in one edge of the portal.
Why is she in New York?
It doesn’t matter.
America turns back and gives Vision a huge hug.  “Give that to my moms for me,” she mutters, presses her lips together, and then continues, “and another one for Wanda, okay?  I’ll…I’ll be back.  Tell them that, too.  It’s not—”
“They’ll understand.”  Vision claps his hands behind his back and nods to the portal.  “Now go.”
America steps backward through the portal, takes a deep breath, and feels like she’s falling.
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aggimaginary · 6 years
Text
The Grinch 2: Happy New Year Chapter 11-Plans and presents
Cindy Lou paddled her bike with an attached carriage, greeting her fellow Whos around her, all the way to her best friend, Groopert's house. Cindy Lou made a crane to call her friend in his bedroom.
"Ka-kaa! Ka-kaa!"
When he heard his friend's bird cry, Groopert was very alerted. It was an unexpected call. He didn't know why she called or what this call is all about, but, like they always do, he threw his backpack out of his window that landed in Cindy Lou's carriage, made an owl sound, "Hoo-hoo!", and used a book to hang on a snowy branch and slide himself towards the carriage.
"Ready!" Groopert gave her a thumb-up.
"Alright, let's go," Cindy Lou nodded as she began to paddle.
Cindy Lou and Groopert went out of town, travelling into the snowy forest where there are many pine trees and snow birds sliding on the snow. Across the stream where the water fall is, Cindy Lou paddled all the way up on the end of sloped log.
"Hold on!" The girl said.
The two friends waited for the end of the log to fall. They lifted their arms with "Woo-hoo!", until they reached to the other side. They arrived at their secret tree clubhouse where no adult knew about this.
Groopert placed the bowling ball on a small net, and let it drop off a low cliff. He and Cindy Lou stood on a baseball bat that was tied by a rope, and they were ascended up on their tree house. Inside, Groopert flipped the paper on their board, and Cindy Lou turned on the light bulb, opened the window, and placed colored pencil's on the board.
"So, what's this meeting all about anyway?" Groopert asked. "Are we going to trap Santa Claus again this New Year?"
Cindy Lou turned and glared at her friend in annoyance, "What?! No! Groopert, Santa isn't coming for New Year, and he never had been. And that's not Santa I captured this Christmas, that was the Grinch."
"Oh, yeah, he made a good Santa," Groopert chuckled, until he saw Cindy Lou giving him an icy glare. "Sorry, sorry. Move along."
Cindy Lou's glare faded and sighed, "I called you here for a very important meeting, Groopert. Trust me. It's really important. I have a very important mission to accomplish."
"What mission?" Groopert asked.
"It's personal. It's just between me and my new friend that you haven't know yet. But I'm going to tell you, because you're my best friend," Cindy Lou took a deep breath, and explained, "It's Mr. Grinch. I think he likes my mom."
"I knew it!" Groopert exclaimed softly, but his friend glared at him again. "I mean, wow."
"And my mom likes him too," She added.
The boy gasped in disbelief, "Wow! That is crazy!"
"Yeah. I know. I'm surprised too, and they're too afraid to admit it to each other. Before I found out about this, two days ago, Mr. Grinch and I encountered a magical girl from another world named Aggie." Cindy Lou told a story.
"Who's Aggie?" The boy asked.
"That woman with wings who helped us decorating our house yesterday," The girl replied.
Groopert exclaimed in realization, "Oh, yeah! I saw you flying yesterday with that girl. I wanted to call you, but I can see you're busy. So, that girl, Aggie, came from another world? A dimension traveler. It's weird, but cool. Does that means her world is magical?"
"No. Her world is normal, like us. Aggie is the only one who has magic," Cindy Lou responded
"Oh." Frowned Groopert.
"Yeah, I know. So, she's here because she has a mission. A mission that she has to fix a friendship problem. And she found one yesterday, but it's more like a love problem than a friendship problem. And that problem is my mom and Mr. Grinch hate to admit their feelings for each other. That's problem that Aggie needed to solve. It's her mission, and I volunteered to help her." Explained the little girl.
"But this is about your mom and Mr. Grinch. Are you cool with that?" Her friend started to show some concern.
"Of course I'm cool with that? Why did you ask?" She asked.
"I mean, what about your dad?" Groopert reminded.
That's the part when Cindy Lou sighed sadly, "Dad doesn't want Mom to be unhappy. I know he wanted her to have someone to keep her happy and company. And I know, Mr. Grinch is the one. And if Aggie can't finish this mission before New Year, she'll miss it with her family. I don't want that.
Groopert just froze and stared at his friend in shock. He never know a Who as humble than Cindy Lou. He then looked down and thought about his friend's plan, "Well, if that's what you want, Cindy, I'm here to help you."
"Really?" Cindy Lou hugged her friend. "Thank you so much, Groopert. I knew I can count on you."
"Sure. We're best friends. We always have each other's back," He said.
After breaking the hug, Cindy Lou looked back at the board again, "Okay. What have we got?"
"Of what exactly?"
"Of getting my mom and Mr. Grinch together."
"You know, no kid has ever done such a thing. I mean, kids getting a man and woman together? I don't think that's possible."
"Hmm... okay. How about this? We'll trap them together is a closet, lock them inside, throw away the key, and they will not get out until they'll admit their feelings for each other face-to-face!" Cindy Lou suggested.
But Groopert thought that was a bad idea, "Um, I'm pretty sure they'll starve to death. And when we open the closet..."
"They'll be dead... together."
"Just like Romeo and Juliet. Not star-crossed lovers, but die together for love."
"Okay, don't remind me that, and I think you're right."
The children thought of something else for a moment, until one of them has an idea.
"I got it!" Groopert yelled.
"Tell me!" Cindy Lou shouted excitingly.
"Love Potion!"
Cindy Lou has doubts for that, but she gave Groopert a chance to explain, "Alright. Love Potion!"
"We'll make a love potion, mix it in their drinks, they drink it, and then they fall in love with each other. SCIENCE!" He explained.
"Could the effects be too cheesy?" Cindy Lou said in disgust.
"Oh, right."
"Also, where can we find some ingredients of a love potion and how can we make some?"
"What about Aggie? You said she's magical. I bet she can make a love potion."
"I don't think so. It might compromise her mission. It would be cheating to accomplish it."
"Good point. I got nothing."
Both friends exhaled in frustration. They got no more ideas for getting the Grinch and Donna Lou together. They're just two kids. They don't know much about romance. Before she almost lose hope, Cindy Lou gasped in realization. Of course she and Groopert can't think of plans, it's because they were just two kids.
"Wait a minute. I think a got it."
"What?" asked Groopert.
"We're gonna need the whole gang for this one!" Cindy Lou winked.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, in the Grinch's cave, Aggie descended to the Grinch's workshop, riding on a red chair and carrying a tray of s'mores. The Grinch was building a snowmobile, which it was almost finish.
"I can't believe you made me into this, Aggie," He complained as he stood up towards his new friend. "And I can't believe you sat on my chair."
"My wings need a rest, and your chair it's quite comfy," Aggie explained as she got off the chair, and offered the Grinch the s'mores she made. "Here. I brought snacks."
"I'm taking it because I'm hungry," the Grinch snatched the s'more from the tray, and took a bite. "Hmm. Actually this is pretty good."
"Thanks. Fresh fry from the microwave, and sweet chocolate syrup. That's my first cook," the winged human chuckled. "Anyway, how's the snowmobile coming?"
"Almost done here," the Grinch replied. "This is actually a great idea, Aggie. I know we both saw how Donna tried to catch up with the bus, but it move very early everyday."
"I know, but with this snow mobile you've built, she'll never have a hard time catching up with the bus, and if this mobile is fast, she'll arrive late at her work," Aggie added.
"I still have to find the finishing touches."
"Like what?"
"Well, the snowmobile is more of metal than an original snowmobile. I don't think Donna Lou would like my gift for her." He described.
His new friend didn't believe on that, "Don't be silly. Ms. Who is very nice. She'll like your gift."
"But it's too old school and ugly. We have to make something new," Grinch said.
Aggie paused for a while to think, until she has an idea.
"Unless..." She used her wand staff to poof out a can of paint, big paint brushes, jar of glitters, and paint spray. "We can make it colorful and stylish."
The Grinch smiled and nodded, agreeing Aggie's suggestion.
The two started to work on designing the snowmobile, including Max. They painted the snowmobile pink with paint brushes and paint spray, and sprinkled it with glitters, but not too much. Aggie realized it might take forever to sprinkle the mobile with glitters, so she loaded them in her party cannon. When she pulled the string of the cannon that pointed the mobile, the cannon fired the glitter all over it, but the Grinch, Aggie and Max's faces were covered in glitter as well. Later, they kept the paint dry fast by using handy fans and blow dryers. When they're done, the snowmobile was pink, sparkly and clean, like it was so new.
"There. I think that's it," Aggie commented. "It's perfect."
The Grinch scanned the mobile with his eyes as he thought it's not perfect enough, "I don't think so. There's something's missing. Oh, Max, the bow."
The dog was alerted as Max jumped on one of the cabinets, and grabbed a red ribbon on his mouth.
"Red, huh? That's good enough, Max," Grinch patted his dog's head, and tied the ribbon on the snowmobile into a bow. "Now, it's perfect."
"Nice. I like your style," Aggie nodded proudly. "Now, you have to give it to her."
"Wait. Give it to her? In person?" He asked, turning to her in surprise. "That's not part of the plan."
"Then, what's the purpose of making this snowmobile to her that you can't give it to her in person?" Aggie inquired. "Besides, if you give her this snowmobile in person, she'll realize you like her, and maybe she'll like you back."
Even if Aggie's idea would work, the Grinch is still too nervous to give something to Donna Lou. He doesn't what to say and what to do after giving the snowmobile to her. He tried to think of something to get out of this.
"Or... I got a better idea," He said.
Aggie grunted in frustration, "You better think this is gonna work than mine, because if it won't, I'm gonna kill you."
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rosedalemike · 6 years
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The Mood: Blog #7 “What even is mainstream...even??”
started like 3 weeks ago...     Is taste in music really subjective? Or is it perspective? Obviously there's a common formula to pop (which is short for popular) that makes a song more digestible to the general public- more commercial (Intro, verse, chorus, re-intro tease maybe, verse2, chorus2, bridge, Chorus3 with a little re-intro maybe). A simple hook and dancy beat never hurt, either. Then of course there's the performance and production. I'd argue that a lot of a song's approval/success has to do with the mix of the song (but for most, that's more subconscious). 
I'd say at least 90% of us are really looking at lyrics as the main check-box; are they relatable/do they flow? Then, with all those key elements in mind (and some others, depending on the goal) the authenticity of it all. From the structure to the lyrics to the performance(s) to the production to the mix/master; do they all compliment each other in a friendly and/or interesting way?
     So with all that in mind, there are some things that are subjective: Relatable - that depends on the demographic/individual. But some lyrics are literally relatable to everyone. 
Performance ?? - Sure, everyone knows a good singer/drummer/guitarist when they hear one. But taste is the real subjective factor. Does the player's ability get out of hand and distract from the authenticity of the song? Technicality and raw emotion have heavy hands but sometimes less is more. "Music is not a sport," but to some shredders, it is! (Part of what makes Blink 182 so powerful is Travis Barker's ability to blow your mind with a fill rolling into that big finale... I can already hear the haters "Overrated! Overrated!") On the other hand, sometimes Bono being passionately flat is what gives U2 their cool factor.
Authentic - Like relatable lyrics, that mostly involves the individual's history. What has the artist/listener's ears been brought up with? What sounds/methods have been retired and what is trending? (Maybe a dancy trap beat wasn't prescribed in the original Alicia Keys' version but definitely authentic in the Jay-Z remix.)
Lyric Party:
"Concrete Jungle where dreams are made of" - Alicia Keys 
Cool - what even is cool? If you follow the pop formula/structure are you no longer cool? If you have a low-fi mix/master, are you automatically cool? That's all subjective but trends definitely play a big roll. And these days; what even is mainstream?
    I'd say Nickelback is mainstream. However, a lot of people hate Nickelback simply because it's cool to hate Nickelback. Nickelback is not my cup of tea, but they definitely cover all those bases in my opening paragraph pretty well. They've mastered being commercial and there's a few Nickleback choruses that I can probably sing word-for-word. It's just odd to me when bands that sound like Nickelback hate Nickelback. That's like when bands that sounded like Blink 182 hated Blink 182. I will go on to argue that these commercial bands didn't necessarily sell out, they just got better (to the general public). So don't hate! Especially if you're hating for your own pride. Like what you like. Leave pretension to the hipsters.
    I guess the main thing that inspired me to write this was from playing my very first sold out show in Columbus, OH at A&R bar. Obviously, I had very little to do with the 200+ people crammed into this awesome venue. I opened the show for 30 minutes and maybe 35 of the 150 people in the room (at 7:30) were there to see me. The other bands sold out of all their tickets and brought the big awesome crowd. The band that played after me pulled out a Nickelback cover; "Animals". Lyric Video Party!!!
youtube
   I genuinely thought they were joking at first! Then they played through the whole thing and everyone was singing along. I was slightly confused. Here I was as part of the first sold out show of my life, in the most thriving music scene in North America, and everyone was getting down to some Nickelback...
    It got me thinking. Maybe it isn't so much that Nickelback isn't cool, maybe ROCK MUSIC in general is no longer cool - everywhere but Columbus, OH!!! Nickelback is the biggest rock band of our time and it is cool to hate them. What is cool then? Nicki Minaj?? Lane Del Re?? Steve Aoki?? Game of Thrones?? I'm sorry Nickelback haters but if I had to choose a night of Game of Thrones or a Nickelback concert you might just catch me sticking a foot above a stadium crowd singing along to "How you Remind Me".
LYRIC PARTY: "Look at this Photograph!!" - Nickelback
    I've been to a Nickelback show and it was awesome! Bryan's actual cousin, Daniel Adair, is their current drummer and we went back in 2011 or something. It was an awesome show! I'd go again!
   Then it got me thinking back to perception. Is Nickelback just not my cup of tea because of the subjective ingredients (lyrics, performance, vocal/tone style, commercial structure)? Probably. I do like how polished their production is. Maybe people check out my music and think the same thing so they don't bother to come see it live. Then when they accidentally see my live show they're giving me the ol' "I'm not generally into that genre of music but I loved your set! Keep it up!" 
LYRIC PARTY:"THIS IS HOW! YOU REMIND ME OF WHAT I REALLY AM!" - Relatable Nickelback lyrics :o
   Anyway, there's another blog that mentions Nickelback a bunch... Guess I'm just really a closet Nickelback fan! Chad Kroeger, sign my band!
I haven't had much time to write this week with the tour being so busy. The inbox and calendar are owning my life almost more than my excessive gear. 
That that sold out show at A&R was awesome. I wish I could play for that many people every night. I did lights for Black Coffee's set, too. I learned their new album/setlist on my long drives. It's pretty solid. Check it out here: 
BLACK COFFEE's NEW ALBUM
    I congratulated them and told them I enjoyed my many many listen-throughs and Ehab said something along the lines of "Thanks! I know, it's not really with the contemporary/mainstream"...So that too kind of inspired this blog. So you can thank Ehab, Nickelback (they're totally not Nickelback-y, more like if Led Zeplin had a kid with The Darkness...)
How good is this by the way: VIDEO PARTY:
youtube
....if you’re into that go buy Black Coffee’s new record.
Then I drove home Sunday and had a week of booking and video editing while watching my Maple Leafs get my hopes up once again. Next season will be better! So will my next blog!!!
Here’s a long podcast to make up for my two weeks of nothing:
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There are some solid shows coming up this week. Check up on my insta/twitter to see how you can win tickets too! TONIGHT - St.Louis, MO @ Fubar - 8:00 set time, ALL AGES, $10 cover https://www.facebook.com/events/361308634360127 Thursday, May 10th - Memphis, TN @ Hi Tone - 9:30ish set time, 18+,  $5 cover https://www.facebook.com/events/1969577906705144/ Friday, May 11th - Nashville, TN @ Phat Bites (Amazing food) -  8:00 doors/ 9ish set time - All Ages , $5 cover https://www.facebook.com/events/2020957568144443/
Saturday, May 12th - Springfield, MO @ Outlands' Front of House - ALL AGES , $7 cover https://www.facebook.com/events/212996439451410/ Tuesday, May 15th - Norman, OK @ Red Brick Bar - 8:30 doors/10ish set time - 21 +, FREE SHOW https://www.facebook.com/events/568521663507443 Wednesday, May 16th - Amarillo, TX @ Leftwoods - 8:00 doors/set time, 21+, FREE SHOW Thursday, May 17th - Santa Fe, NM @ ACOUSTIC SET @ Cowgirl (amazing food) - 7:30 doors, 8:00 set time, ALL AGES, FREE SHOW (unbelievable food...seriously) Friday, May 18th - Albuquerque, NM @ Jam Spot - Doors at 6:30, 8:45 set time, ALL AGES, $10 tickets, $12 doors Tickets: https://www.ticketstorm.com/e/21145/t/https://www.facebook.com/events/385121958563821/ Saturday, May 19th - Colorado Springs, CO @ Triple Nickel - Doors at 8pm, 9:00 set time, 18+, $7 coverhttps://www.facebook.com/events/985147721649093 Wednesday, May 23rd - Denver, CO @ Lost Lake - Doors at 7:00, 9:30 set time, 18+ **But** all ages welcome with adult company, Tickets $8, Doors $10Tickets: https://www.ticketfly.com/purchase/event/1677879?utm_medium=ampOfficialEvent&utm_source=fbTfly
https://www.facebook.com/events/222640314958871 Thursday, May 24th - Boulder, CO @ ACOUSTIC at Illegal Pete's Pearl, 9:00 start, ALL AGES (awesome food) FREE SHOW
Friday, May 25th - Fort Collins, CO @ Aggie Theatre - Doors at 8pm, 9:45 set time, 18+, $10 Tickets**, $15 at the door  (FREE TICKET GIVEAWAY ON INSTAGRAM @rosedalemike)
Ticket link: http://ticketf.ly/2FZp97J
https://www.facebook.com/events/149017892592176/ Thanks!
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uberff · 7 years
Text
Chapter 21
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Robyn
For the two minutes that Eric’s been here, I’ve been in his arms with tears rolling down my face. When I told him that all of the tests came out positive, he made his way over to my house. After Winter and Jaylen stormed out, I was by myself with no one to express my feelings to. While they were peeling off, E was pulling up. I mustered up a nervous smile and hugged him tight. I always felt safe wrapped in his arms.
“Whatever you wanna do, I’m with you, Rob.” He mumbled against my neck and I nodded as he rocked us from side to side in the middle of my living room. “Don’t give them negative thoughts no clout. Look at me,” I looked up at him and he swiped my tears away with his cold hands.
“If ain’t nobody else here for you, I’ma always show up ‘bout you. You hear me?” I nodded and looked away. He brought my eyes back to his gaze. “I’m serious, Rob.”
“Okay.” I whispered and he kissed my forehead. “You wanna talk to me about this game-plan we gotta set?” He asked and I shook my head. I just wanted to sleep, honestly. This shit has to be a dream.
“Why, baby girl?” He asked, walking me over to the couch.
“Eric, I’m scared. Everything in my life has been temporary. Literally everything and I’m scared that if I give you my all, I’ll be assed out again. This time with a baby, I don’t know what to do with a kid right now.”
“If you give me your all, I’ma match it. Fuck them niggas who realized that you was the truth the minute you walked out they lives. I met you a few months ago and I can’t fathom losing you now. You mean something to a nigga, I admit this shit is happening fast but we got the chance to create something beautiful together. If you not with it, let me know. I’ll slide you the bread and let you handle that.”
“I don’t want you to go. Meeting you was so refreshing but everything is happening fast and I didn’t mean for it to happen, I-“
“Baby, I was there too. We was gone in the moment, we could’ve been more careful but shit happens. My genes are strong and handsome as fuck, you that distraught that we about to have a shawty?” I smiled and leaned on his shoulder.
“No. If it would’ve happened later on in life, I would’ve been bouncing off the walls. It’s just that my business is just now starting up and we haven’t known each other for that long.”
“Miss me with that shit. If I’m interested, I’m an observant nigga. I felt like I’ve been knowing you for my whole life. Know your beautiful ass like the back of my hand.” He turned his hand over and I read over his tattoo. Loyalty.
“I’m an open book. I let everyone know too much.” I admitted and he put our foreheads together. “We gotta change that. Niggas take advantage of vulnerability. Ain’t nobody stepping over my baby mama no more.” He laughed and I smiled, hitting him softly.
“You’re not scared?” I asked and looked off into space. Thinking deep into the future. Is it a boy or a girl? What kind of mother would I be? My life is literally about to change forever.
“Lowkey. I have nieces and shit so I guess they’ve been practice this whole time. We gon’ figure it out together, baby. Don’t worry about nothing. I ain’t gon’ stop ya business grind, you got the whole nine months to keep snatching edges and shit.” He smiled and I mirrored it. “Gimme kiss.”
I held his face and pecked his lips softly. “From this point, I’ma have you and whoever in there.” He rubbed my flat stomach and put me on his lap. “For life, Robyn. Fuck everybody and they opinions on our dynamic.”
“Thank you.”
“We gon’ spend plenty of time getting to know each more. Your picky and perfect ass gon’ drive me crazy but I’ma love every second of catering to you.”
“Really?” I mumbled playing with his chain and overthinking again.
“Yes. I’m loyal to those I got love for.”
“Same but it all went to waste.”
“Charge up. You was loyal to the wrong ones. A real nigga here now.” He massaged my ass and a smile crept on my face when I saw his.
**
”Damn, you need me to fye you up? You sound stressed.” Qua asked as he sat up from my bed. I shook my head no, as he rose an eyebrow. He knew I’d never turn down a blunt from him.
“I can’t smoke.” I laughed, before I stopped once I realized that I had to tell him what was up with him. I didn’t know how he was going to react. I just prayed that it wasn’t like Winter’s reaction. Girl almost made me fight her ass. She was being hella judgemental, so I ain’t talked to her in weeks and I don’t plan on it.
“Why not?” He put his blunt back in his pocket. I sighed, scratching my head thinking of how this was gonna come out.
“I’m uh... I’m pregnant.” I said as I looked up at his face. He took his glasses off, giving me a look.
“Please don’t do that Qua, please don’t. You’re the only person I know that’s hella understanding, you never judge.” I begged as he sighed. When I say Qua never judged, he didn’t. He’d tell me whenever I fucked up or when I was in the wrong, but he’d never judge me. I could go out and get a train ran on me, and he wouldn’t judge me at all. He’d just be like, “aye, that’s yo business.”
“I ain’t judging you, a nigga just shocked. I gotta keep it a 100 witcha, though.” He shrugged, patting the spot next to him for me to sit on.
“Ain’t no point in trying to make you feel like shit, cause it’s already done but I’m disappointed, ma. You know I always told you to stay strapped.” He joked, but was still serious at the same time. I laughed because he always told me to keep a condom on me because now wasn’t the time for kids.
“But nah foreal, I ain’t even met dude yet. What if he a lame? How you know he gone be a good father? You finally got to open ya store, and I’m telling you now.. a baby hard work. You had a whole lotta’ goals to pursue before having a baby.”
“I know that.” He grabbed my hand, placing it inside of his.
“Just be careful, and start making smarter decisions. Congrats ona’ baby. How far along you is?”
“I haven’t went to the doctor yet, so I have no idea. Should be only a few weeks.”
“Whenever you go, let me know. You ain’t been hitting my line lately.”
“I know, I’m so sorry. I’ve been super busy.”
“You good, I understand. Hella people been hitting you up for they Valentines fits. People been hitting me up to try to get in contact with you.” I smiled.
“I love you so much, Qua. You’re always here for me. From the day I met you, you were so caring and concerned.” I hugged him as he laughed, wrapping his arms around me. He really had a big heart.
“Gotta be. You a sweet person and ain’t ever hurt a fly. Shit, you even taught a nigga a lot.I luh’ you too.” He squeezed me, before tickling me.
The only thing that could be heard were my loud giggles as I squirmed around, trying to get out of his hold. “Qua! Stop, oh my god!” I laughed, uncontrollably as he continued to torture me.
He finally stopped and let me catch my breath. “I’m bout to head out tho, shoot start at 11 AM tomorra’.” He stood up, embracing me into a big hug. He was so long that he had to bend down.
“Bye, be safe! Tell the boys I said hi.” I said as I watched him walk out to the car that his driver was picking him up in.
**
Next Day
“You just tryna see my dick, that’s all.” Qua said as I bent down to measure his waist. I rolled my eyes, playfully punching his skinny ass.
I was designing outfits for all three of them for one of their upcoming video shoots, and I was actually excited for it. I barely got to see Qua, so working with him would be dope. Fun as well, because they were always joking around. I knew exactly what I had in store for them.
“All done.” I smiled as I stood up. His collar on his shirt was fucked up, so I started to fix it up for him.
“You always getting a nigga right.” He laughed, looking down at me through his Gucci shades.
“Good, cause yo ass was lookin’ like Dracula wit’ dat’ damn colla’ up like dat’.” Offset said making everyone laugh except Qua. He was forever talking about somebody.
“So what time do I need to come tomorrow?” I asked as I grabbed my essentials. Qua stroked his goatee, thinking to himself before he spoke.
“Bout 9.”
“AM?” I questioned.
“Fasho.”
“Y’all better be providing breakfast.” I planned on sleeping in tomorrow, because I’ve been working back to back. On top of that, I had a doctor’s appointment after this.
“Yea, this sausage.” Set said, making Qua smack him upside the head. I ain’t even gone lie, I had to laugh at that one cause I wasn’t expecting that.
“You got a way home?” Qua asked as I shook my head no. I know I had to get a car, ASAP. I didn’t mind taking Lyfts here and there, but having my own car would be nice. Plus, I hated asking for things.
“No, I was just gonna call a Lyft.” I said as he gave me a look before taking my bags out of my hand, walking outside to his car. After putting my bags in his backseat, he opened the door for me an
“I’ll holla atcha’, Batman.”
“Bye, Upset.”
“Be smoo’ Robyn!” Take yelled out and I blew a kiss to him afterwards. He was so sweet, and always stayed to himself. It was cute.
Once everyone else left, I realized that Qua and I were still sitting in the driveway. I look over and him, and he looked deep in thought so I decided to not interrupt him.
“I gotta tell you some shit..” he spoke, taking my attention away from the Popeyes a few feet away that smelled really good.
“Tell me then.” I rose an eyebrow, as he looked nervous as hell. He was never nervous.
“I know we tried this shit befo- nah fuck it. Forget I brought it up.”
“Qua! You’re so aggy for that!”
“I’m sorry mama, I should’ve just kept it to myself. I’m throwed as fuck, and I ain’t tryna say some shit that i ain’t gone remember.”
By now, I already knew what he was going to say and I didn’t wanna be in that awkward position, so I just forgot about it like he asked me to. Well, it’s a little too late for that, because the rest of the car ride.. we were quiet and there’s never a dull moment with us.
Once I got back in my apartment, I noticed Eric sound asleep on the couch. I’m guessing my presence had woke him up, because he kept moving. “Hey, where you been at?”
“Oh, I was styling a few guys for their video shoot today.”
“Cool, I had just stopped by to make you some dinner but you took long as fuck, so I fell asleep. My bad.”
“Oh no, you’re fine. I’ll just make something quick.” I disappeared into the kitchen, looking inside of the fridge so that I could make a sandwich. As soon as I got my ingredients out, it took me out 10 minutes to perfect the sandwich. Once I was done, I put everything back and started to walk back into the living room to sit on the couch with E.
Biting into my sandwich, I moaned at the taste. This was the best meal I’ve eaten all day, to be honest.
“How was ya day?” He asked, bringing my feet on top of his lap to massage them.
“It was pretty smooth. I woke up super early, but they had breakfast which was great. Everyone was pretty easy to work with, so time went by kinda fast. What about you, babe?” He started to talk, but the way that sandwich just hit the spot and how good he was caressing my feet, bitch I was out like a light.
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Jasmine
I was happy to be out that nerve wracking ass center, but I was hella irritated to be back at my bullshit ass job. I hated it here, but the money wasn’t gone make itself and I had bills to pay.
My dad spoils the fuck outta me, and he doesn’t even want me working, but that’s bogus to me. I ain’t bout to live off of his hard earned money, I can’t. I wanna be like him one day, and I know I have to start from the bottom to get to the top.
I know exactly what I wanted to do with my life, but I just didn’t know where to start. I can’t just quit my job, up and leave and go follow my dreams. Well, I can but shit ain’t as easy as 123, feel me?
I snapped outta my thoughts once someone came to my register. Looking up, it was the same guy that I had met from the center. Jaylen.
We had been talking for a couple of days, and he was cool as hell. Fine as hell too, but my daddy warned me about his type. I know he ain’t shit.
I started to wonder why he was even in such a fucked up place like the center. He seemed like a put together dude, but then again you can’t judge a book by its cover.
I️ was at the center for my anger/mental issues. It had nothing to do with drugs. If anything, them shits helped.
My dad insisted that I️ get help, and I️ did. Not only because he told me to, but because I️ wanted to. I️ was starting to become a whole different person, and I️ wasn’t feelin’ it. I’d yell, curse, everything in the book at people for the littlest reasons. I️ couldn’t go out like that anymore. Hell, I️ was starting not to like my own damn self.
Ever since I️ came to the center, I️ learned that the anger I️ had built up was from growing up. Growing up, I️ never really had support from my mother and everyone I️ thought that I️ could trust, turned on me. Everyone that said they’d always be there for me left. Eventually, a bitch like me just said fuck it and stopped caring about sappy ass shit like that and turned cold hearted. People hated it.
I️ hated it, but it was my only choice. I️ ain’t ask to be that way, but I️ was tired of people fucking me over. I️ got in too deep of that mindset, that I️ didn’t even recognize myself.
I️t all started with my mom. I️ hated that bitch. As I️ started getting old enough to notice things, I️ realized that she’d cheat on my father multiple times while he was out working his ass off day to night to provide shelter for us.
She be gone for weeks and come home as if nothing happened, and after a while.. my dad never said anything because he loved her too much.
I’ve had plenty of plays, games, pageants, you name it. Every single one, I waited and waited for her to show up like she said she would, and she never did. She always stood me up. Eventually, she just stopped coming around and nobody knows where she is, nor do I care. She’on care about me or my daddy, so why should I care about what she got going on?
Shit I even had friends that I’ve shared my deepest and darkest secrets with, stop talking to me over a nigga.
I watched the love of my life.. end his life in front of me while I screamed and begged him not to. I tried to help him every chance I got to, but he always shut me out and told me he was okay. I knew he wasn’t and that’s why I never let it go. He was at a really low point in his life, and outta no where.. I wake up from my nap because he’s making a lot of noise because he’s drunk. Once I gained my vision, I noticed that he had a gun on him. Knowing that he was depressed, I tried to take it from him immediately. He’s screaming at me to give it back, while I’m trying to calm him down. I’m crying, telling him that it’s not worth it and that I truly care about him and love him dearly. Shit, he’s one of the best things that’s happened to me.
He watched me get on my knees and beg him not to do it... And he did it. Right in front of me.
Til this day, it still fucks with me and I feel like that plays another big part towards my built up emotions. The center has actually helped me in a way, and I didn’t think it would. I was glad that I checked myself in. I’m doing way better than what I was, trust me.
“Damn, what you over there thinkin’ bout?” Jaylen’s voice broke me out of my thoughts. I forgot he was even here.
“I’m sorry, I was thinking way too deep. What brings you here? I know you ain’t come to just buy no candy.”
“I was on the block and I wanted to stop by and see ya pretty ass face.”
“You ain’t smooth.” I smirked, bagging his candy. He seen his total on the screen and slid his card to pay.
“I got you over there blushing though.” I bit my lip, and tried to hide my face behind the screen as he laughed. I wasn’t blushing, I just liked to smile.
“Nah, not even.” He waved me off, taking the receipt out of my hand.
“You should let me chill wit you when you get off.” He suggested and I thought about it for a second. That ain’t sound too bad, plus I was off tomorrow.
“How you know I ain’t got something else to do?”
“You probably do, but all I know is.. ima be at ya crib tonight at 10 so don���t try to make no other plans.” He winked at me before walking off. I smiled shaking my head, not even realizing how hard I was blushing.
Ugh, I hated this feeling.
A couple of hours went by, and I was finally off of work, which made me happy because I ready to get the hell away from these people.
I ended up at my dad’s house, because I hadn’t seen him in 2 days and that was just too long for me. My daddy was literally my best friend.
He was on the couch with a Cigar hanging outta his mouth, making me laugh. “I hope yo ass brought some food cause you be quick as hell to eat up all of mines.”
“You didn’t cook? That’s the only reason I came over, daddy.”
“Hell no, today my relax day.” I rolled my eyes, because he always said that. Everyday was his relax day, let him tell it.
“I got the flowers and card that you sent today. Thanks, you almost made me cry in front of those people.” My dad made it a habit of sending me flowers on a daily basis, and I loved it. It’s the simplest things that makes my day.
“I try, I try.”
“Somebody gone appreciate you one day, old man.”
“Shit, about that-“ he started to talk until a woman’s voice cut him off.
“Victor, you coming back to bed?” I looked towards the direction of her voice and seen a really beautiful woman in a red robe, peeking around the corner. I gasped.
“Daddy!” I said loudly, covering my mouth. I’m over here 24/7, never have I heard or seen this woman.
He chuckled nervously and told her to come out to the living room. I did not wanna meet anybody coming out of his room in a robe.
My dad excused himself, making me sigh as my big brother came in, making shit worse.
“Eyyy, wassup baby sis.” I rolled my eyes and ignored his presence, moving his arm from around me.
“Why you gotta all Hollywood errytime a nigga come around? You’n never show me no love.” He was hella irritating. I barely saw him because of this dumbass shit he be doing, and he tries to send me all types of designer to make up for it but I could care less about that.
Izzy was one of the biggest drug lords out here in NY. He started off just selling when he was in high school, but I’m guessing the man that ran the whole business got sick, and Izzy was the only one that everybody respected besides ole dude, so he passed it down to him.
He was smart as hell, and had way more full ride scholarships to college than I did, but he let the drug life get the best of him. He dropped out when he only had half a semester left to graduate.
Ever since then, he was always getting into trouble. I wasn’t trying to be in none of his drama, so I just told him to stop talking to me in general. He and my dad claim that I’m wrong for it, but I don’t see how. He ain’t about to get me shot up. I love him to death, but nah.
“Cause you’re stupid, Iz.”
“Ion’ wanna talk about that shit while I’m at home, Jas. When you gone get over it? I been doin’ this shit since I was 16, ya attitude getting mad old now.” He sat down next to me on the couch.
I looked over at him fixing the collar on his Gucci shirt so that all 5 of his chains could show. One thing I could say about him was that he always cleaned up nice. You’d never catch him looking bummy.
“Because I care about you, and it pisses me off that you wanna ruin your life over something so dumb. You’re better than this.”
“Am I dead?”
“No, but if you don’t stop this shit, death or jail is right around the corner. You just got out for doing a 3 year sentence a couple of weeks ago, and what do you do? Go back to doing the same dumb shit.”
“So you think you Oprah or sumn’?” I rose an eyebrow at his sudden attitude.
“Think about your fam instead of yourself sometimes. Daddy lost his best friend to the same shit you doing right now. He tried telling him over and over that it wasn’t worth it, and right when he finally listened.. he got killed.”
“Aye sis, times be hard and I work too hard to be making minimum wage. I refuse to slave for a muhfucka’ for some little ass pay.”
“There are so many options out here, and you and I both know that you got the money to do whatever you want. You got enough money to where you don’t even have to work for the rest of your life! Go do something you love!”
“Like what, since you know everything.”
“Are you serious, Iz? Everybody knows music is your thing. It always has been. Invest in yourself! Produce!” He brushed over his waves, thinking about what I was telling him. I hope it wasn’t going one ear out of the other.
“Tell you what? Ima think real hard about that one and get back to ya on it.” I nodded with a smile, embracing him in a hug.
Well, we were getting some where. Usually he’d just shut that down on the spot and tell me no straight up, and he never told a lie.
“Let me spend a night at ya crib.”
“I’m having company tonight.”
“Who? Bet not be one of them pussy ass niggas you be fuckin’ wit.” Literally every dude stopped talking to me once they found out Izzy was my brother, and I don’t know why. He ain’t nobody to be scared of, these niggas just pussy. But then again, I haven’t seen the other side of him and I don’t want to. The Izzy I knew was sweet as hell, smart, and putting a smile on someone’s face. Hell, he was scared of clowns. If he saw one, he’d scream like a girl.
“Boy I don’t say nun’ bout all these nasty girls you be messing with.”
“I’m grown.”
“Oh so I’m not?”
“Nah, you gone always be baby sis.” I rolled my eyes and stood up to grab my purse. He swore I was his daughter.
“I’m out.” I started to walk towards the door. I would tell my daddy bye, but knowing him, he was probably up there doing something with that woman of his.
“Hold up rude ass, let me walk you out.”
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Jaylen
I️ drove to Jasmine’s house, with the top off as I danced around to Drake’s Passionfruit that was blaring throughout my car. To say that I️ was in a good ass mood was an understatement. I️ smoked before I️ left the house, and a nigga was feeling good.
I️ know being around Jas was gone make my high even better. It took her some time to even get a bit comfortable with me.
After meeting her at the center, I ain’t see her for a couple of days. I got released, went to the store and seen her there. We ate together at some bomb ass spot, and exchanged numbers instantly. I talk to lil mama almost everyday and she cool as fuck. She the only person I know that can relate to me on some deep shit.
Being around her took my mind off of Robyn, completely and I was loving that shit. I️ wasn’t trying to start a relationship or no shit, and she wasn’t either. We were chillin’.
I️ pulled her into the driveway of her home, impressed because her shit was better than my condo. I needed to get on her level.
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She was hella spoiled by her daddy, and I️ knew he bought her this nice ass house. I️ respect that she doesn’t just live off of her dad though. She be working even though she doesn’t have to.
Grabbing the bottle of Henny that she asked me to bring, I️ locked the doors to my car. Once I️ made it to her doorstep, I️ rang the doorbell as I️ waited patiently for her beautiful ass to answer the door.
“I’m comingggggg!” I️ heard her sing, making me chuckle. Shit, I’d love to hear her scream those words more often.
I️ pushed my dirty thoughts away, because I️ knew she wasn’t giving me any play no time soon.
The door swung open, and she stood in front of me with a big smile on her face. Without thinking twice, I️ embraced her into a big ass hug, squeezing the fuck outta her. She smelled like strawberries and shit.
“Hey.” She said as she pulled away, shutting and locking her door.
“Wassup? What you do all day?”
“Hung out with my dad.” She sat down on the couch, taking the bottle of Hennessy out my hand. I️ chuckled at how ready she was.
“Damn you ain’t playing no games, huh?”
“I️ gotta work for the rest of the week after tomorrow, I️ need this.”
Jas worked in retail, and she hated it. She had went to college for four years, but she doesn’t know what to do right now so she’s just working. She claims she doesn’t have any talents, but I know exactly what that shit is.
“Drink up, mama. I️ need that shit, too.” She popped the bottle open, and took that shit to the head in no time. I️ sat up, widening my mouth as she downed that shit with no problem.
“Damn, slow down.” I️ laughed, taking the bottle away from her mouth. She had drunken half of it already.
She wiped her mouth, smiling as she turned the music from her TV up. Getting this shit over with, I️ chugged the other half of the Henny down just as she did. When I️ was finished, I️ sat the bottle down on the table, rubbing my stomach because I️ was hungry as fuck.
I ain’t been drinking like I used to so I couldn’t just down that shit like it was water no more.
“What you got to eat?”
“Our favorite.”
“My fat ass got a lot of favorites.” I sat back in against her couch, with low eyes, laughing. She chuckled right along with me.
“Wings, boy.”
“Oh aight, that’s cool. Where they at?” I licked my lips, sitting up so that she could show me where the fuck they was at.
She stood up, holding her hand out for me to grab. I grabbed it, looking at her booty the whole time she led the way to the kitchen. She wore this little ass skin tight dress on purpose. If I ain’t respect her, I would’ve been fucked.
Pushing that thought away, we both walked into her kitchen.
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I looked on the island and saw a box of Wings sitting there with my name on it. With no hesitation, I said my grace and started to dig in. She started to walk off but I pulled her back.
“Where you going?” I said with a mouth full of chicken. These wings were bussin’ and cussin’ right now.
“To my room. You fine but ion’ wanna watch you eat playa.” I laughed.
“How I’m post to know where ya room at?” I questioned, looking around. She acting like her house ain’t have a thousand rooms in this bitch.
“Upstairs, first door. You can’t miss it. I’ll leave it open for you.” I nodded and left her skip off to her room.
As I started back eating, I pulled my phone out because I was lonely as fuck down here. Watching a couple of Basketball highlights for a good 20 minutes, I was finally finished with my food and I was still hungry.
Cleaning up my mess, I put my phone in my pocket and went turned off the lights in the kitchen. Walking around the corner, there her stairs were so I walked up them. Her door was cracked open, but I decided to be a creep because I heard her talking to herself.
I realized that she was making those little voices like she always did. She need to be put in somebody’s movie for that shit. She swore she wasn’t talented. Voice acting was for her, foreal.
“You up in here acting like you Shrek and shit, but you ain’t got no talent?” I questioned as she jumped and turned around.
“You scared me.” She put her hand on her heart. I took her hand, interlocking both of them with mines, bringing both of us down on top of her bed.
I know she felt how hard my dick was because I felt how wet she was. I licked my lips, looking her in her eyes. I knew she wanted it as bad as I did, but she wasn’t gone give it up yet. I wasn’t gone pressure her either, so I just laughed and stopped playing with her ass.
“Jay you got me wetter than an ocean right now.” She huffed, going to the bathroom that was in her room.
“Come drown me then.” I winked at her she smirked, which turned into us busting up into a fit of laughter.
“Real shit Jasmine.. you need to get into voice acting.” I said as our laughter died down. I swear she was gone thank me once she realized it’s what she should’ve been doing a long time ago.
“Jay, you gone ruin my b-“
“Nah Jas, foreal. You stay complaining bout ya job. Go do something you love.” She sat down next to me and sighed.
“I just... I don’t know where to start Jaylen.”
“Start taking classes whenever you don’t have to work and go from there, ma. I promise the shit gone be worth it. Believe in yourself and God.” I suggested. She looked over at me, taking in what I had just said.
“Yo, ain’t nobody ever believed in me the way that you do.” She said
“Cause you got a gift, Jas. Ain’t nobody believe in me either, now I got muhfuckas paying millions for my shit.”
Growing up, nobody cared that I could draw. They’d always tell me that it wouldn’t get me any where and to stick with hooping. Except my mom and pops, but that’s about it. I obviously ain’t listen to they ass though.
“That’s great, you really just inspired me. I’m gonna do some research tomorrow morning. Thank you.”
“No problem.” I spoke, as my eyes scanned around the pictures in her room. I stopped atone family picture when I seen a picture of a fine ass woman.
“She bad.”
“My crackhead ass mom? Eh.”
“Crackhead? Yikes, why you gotta put her business out there.” I was laughing because she said it so nonchalantly.
“I hate that bitch.” She rolled her eyes, quickly taking the family picture down. Well then...
“Who that jawn? Since we being nosey?” She questioned, pointing towards towards the gold locket I had on my neck of me and Rob. She gave it to me months ago, and honestly.. I got so used to never taking it off, that I forgot I still had it. I twirled it around with my fingers, before taking it off and tossing it out of her window that was open. No doubt Robyn and I was done. Our last convo gave me the confirmation.
*Flashback*
There were a million emotions running through my body right now, that I️ couldn’t even describe what I️ was feeling. Shit was like Deja vu all over again.
She sighed heavily, putting her head in her hands. “Can we talk?” She didn’t say anything but that wasn’t gone stop me. She was gone hear whatever I had to say.
“Why?” Was all I️ asked as she looked up at me with no words.
“I️ didn’t mean for this to happen, Jaylen.” I️ tried my absolute best not to spazz or strangle her. I️ was beyond pissed, my nigga. That fucking rehab shit paid off, because I️ would’ve been got disrespectful.
“Why was you fucking that nigga, anyways? Now you just an easy piece of pussy, huh?” I️ sat down on the edge of her tub. Robyn was irresponsible and clueless as shit, but getting pregnant by a nigga she only knew for a short period of time wasn’t her. I hope she don’t think I don’t know about her getting pregnant by King Kong either.
Just thinking about her letting another nigga get up in what’s mines broke my heart. I just can’t believe she let him get her pregnant.
“Excuse me? And the same exact reason you went and fucked kayla.” I️ sighed, rolling my eyes because she was forever bringing up old shit. Here I️ am trying to change. She the type of person to bring up some shit that happened when you a kid.
“I’m over that shit, dude ion even talk to her ass no more. She engaged, wit a baby and ion’ want them problems. You always so stuck on me fucking up that you don’t even know how to admit when you wrong, too.”
“I’m wrong for trying to move on?” She scrunched up her face.
“Nah you fucking wrong because you seen me trying to turn my life around for you yet you still go and fuck this nigga. Raw at that. You foul bro. Yea, I did my dirt and I know I was wrong for fucking Kayla, but she’s outta my life completely now. I cut her off for you. I went to rehab for you. I quit smoking and drinking for you. Did all this shit for you, and you wanna sit up here and act like shit all sweet? I’m fucking hurt, Robyn. That was supposed be my baby that you having.”
She remained quiet, with her head in her hands because she knew I was right.
“Jaylen, from day one when I met you, you were fucking rude and a jerk. I thought that maybe you’d change but you didn’t. That attitude that you had is the attitude that pushed me away. Don’t sit up here and act like you weren’t the one that kissed another woman, either. That’s the whole reason we’re not together.”
By now, I was fed up by her bringing up old shit.
“No the reason why we ain’t together right now is because you don’t know how to fucking move past shit and you insecure as fuck. I’m damn near begging you, and ya ass won’t even consider hearing me out. Fuck you Robyn.”
*Flashback Over*
“Just an old bih I used to deal with. Nobody important.” I smiled, as she shook her head followed by laughter.
As she started doing lord knows what, my mind went off into a place that I didn’t want it to be in. That’s because a nigga only smoked one baby ass blunt and had half the bottle of Henny. If not, shit my mind would be on fucking Mars.
Trying to snap outta my thoughts, I put my focus on Jas’s dancing in the mirror. I was admiring that shit until I heard what she was dancing to.
“Think I got him covered for the weekend..” she grinded against her chair.
“Stop singing that thot ass song.” I mugged her as she continued to sing it, slightly making me mad.
Once she seen my face, she cut the music off, smiling. “Aww Jay, I’m sorry.” She apologized, straddling my lap. I shook my head no, ignoring her apology.
“Come on, I said sorry.” She poked her bottom lip out. Looking up at her, our eyes met with each other’s and locked. Before anything else could be said, her lips crashed into mines. My hands found their way to her ass.
She was gone give me blue balls, we been kissing all night and she was killing me with this teasing shit.
**
Jas was literally passed out on her bed, so I took that as my queue to leave. It was bout 3 in the morning and I had to be up by 7. I’ll make sure to text her in the morning.
Getting my shit, I made my way outside to my car so that I could go home. Since it wasn’t traffic at all, I got home within 15 minutes.
As soon as I got in, I spotted my dad sitting on the couch watching Power. “Nigga these bootycall hours, where you been?” He questioned as he paused the TV. How this nigga gone question me in my own crib?
“Nah not even pops, I was chillin’ wit a friend. Is Jayla in my bed?”
“Yea why?”
“Ima sleep in the guest room cause I’m high as fuck.”
“Nigga when ain’t you?” I chuckled, waving him off as I started to make my way towards the guests room. Pops ain’t like the fact that I smoked, but he was just gone have to deal with it. I used to smoke bout 3 or 4 blunts everyday before I went and got help. Now I only smoke 1 like three times a week. I don’t drink anymore. I only did it earlier, because it’s a new fucking year. That’s progress.
Kicking my slides off, I stripped out of my sweats and t-shirt before plopping down in the bed. Swear I drifted off to sleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.
12 notes · View notes
ubelyptus · 7 years
Text
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soooooooooooo bb,,,...,.,,,strawberrry.
......I JUST FIND IT
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  interestinggggggggg
how you Big mad cuz MY block game seeems 
skrong or summn
hanh???
oh.
well.
i never blockedt you 
on snapchat 
or whatsapp (you weren’t even muted),
yup, i still haven’t
but i didn’t have a properly working phone...
still......don’t
but either way you keep threatening to split on me 
like a weapon…fcking
manipulative as shit
it just seems to me that you just want to?
you never imprinted tho 
but she did 
so why should you?
i won’t ever, again, fight....
….with you.
my favorite accomplice
i wanted to learn with an open mind 
even after my phone died 
how to remain soft with you.  
even after being callled 
“old news" 
pffft
at least until
 i ‘m  eventually murdered by a cisgender man...
but
don’t fckn
pppppppop shit 
cuz like….. literally…..all i did was change my url.
shit, i Only blockedt you AFTER i saw you referencing gaslighting.
bc uhmm IIIIIIif that is about meeeeeeeeeeee 
ha!!!
 how fucking dare you.…..lyk....wuhh?
like when you said there is no difference between syn and alesia?????
HANH?
oh, but you think i blockedt you first bc i didn’t wanna get my feelings hurt?
….mhhhhhhh. ok.
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seeems odd since you’re not liar 
right, eli????
but,,,,,so what’s this about the cozi password change? am i just shifting too rapidly between your and my reality???
bet.
no, i blocked you on things after THAT 
AND THAT WAS TODAY
oh, and didn’t your friend, my so-called “fighting buddy,” anan…
.just,,,,,fckn block me like i’m useless
trash
randomnly 
after all
i asked 
was that they 
not speak to me 
about you?
but YAAAAAAS  twas ONLY Me and simply Myself and just i 
who ain’t wanna get….hurt.
hanh?????
oh ,
obvi,
yeaaaaaaa
yeeeei
truuuu,
sooooo 
sssssorry,,,,but
calling me “old news” or saying i’m “old too” 
don’t forget your girl is 2 yrs older than you 
and then staying silent for these few days about changing passwords
that..... already did that, boo
at least i sent alesia third party emails thru the app, boo
she pushin 30 and can only talk you 
venuse....????. no....a 
talking and 
w a l k i ng tragedy
entyway don’t bring that up just to be loud and wrong about that too
you’re not always wrong tho, you know
you’d probably fuck up and slit my throat 
 powertripping
when i’m wrong about you
and you can only do that if you
 black and white 
me out 
to NEVER BE WRONG 
AND I DO 
ACTUALLLY HATE THAT ABOUT YOU!!!!! 
WHY CAN’T I EVER BE WRONG, ELI???? 
WHY????//
OH your emotions....? about your father that after 6 yrs you didn’t tell me about?
your reality? when you have a habit of projecting?
 and lowkey being dishonest 
to yourself first
 and then subsequently
 to me????
your time? when i’m mostly on yours?????
your efforts? like ripping up notes and telling me 
“my turn” to get fucked 
by you 
was over
when the only reason i was tiredt
was bc i crashed
too tiredt after explaining to You
that
  i‘m not even going to LET you play middleman
for a baby pushign 30????
oh. bet.
but since we’re being transparent:
here are receipts with timestamps:
http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop-hop-hop-hop
http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop+hop+bun
http://microhealer.tumblr.com/tagged/hop-hop-bunny
yea you must love dirty laundry
oh.
but that’s what i knew about you.
oh:
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be yr own guest my love
i Knew you would ignore the “old news” message since that's literally when you started telling on yourself 
you do treat trans partners
 like side hoes, 
thasssa wholeBET 
and some change
 for you to create
cuz thassssssss 
how you feel about me fr fr
so that “like” is mine but
  i…..actually really Really love that you laughed tho.
bc i haven’t heard you fully belly laugh in a long time.
if ever iirh.
even after knowing you for 6+ years, 
your supposed “first friend “ in the DMV
the person i can trust my life with
the only
you’re my only...
 ,,,,,even after i spiraled 
and cut myself for the first time since middle school?
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now my friends are fucking spotting you 
and talking to each other 
about you
oh, you didn’t know. 
but i got mehndi done today 
let a summer baby boy
love 
a cut up 
by me
body
 before noon
today 
thinking i’d see you and we could talk like,,,,
…..like real people do.
and you’d be distracted by the design and not zone in
 on the failed cuts
 on my wrist 
since i’m shit at not just repeatedly carving into 
white meat
 when i can only use a ceramic blade
i just didn’t WANT you to 
so i never “came home to [you]”
you said that on nov 4th/5th of last year
and
i’ve been looking up bpd all day
eventho i told you
  i don’t trust the internet 
sooooo you not telling me 
didn’t hel p
but it’snot at all your job to 
and i sitll
stilllstil stil stilllca’t see
....and i dind’t want you to see.
bc i’m not just a man.
i’m still femme
which you seem to love to forget
and still soft enough, i think.....
i hope…..or learning to be soft,,,,
where it won’t get me killed,,,,,
but where it still counts.
with…or without you.
either way i’m a man who loves you. a man whose phone died at 28% trying to get you to see that i was trying to be soft even after you called me
 “old news”
but,,,,,.....,,,compared to …..who?????? sh....oooo??????
your new girlfriend who is 1 or 2 years older than you?????
and can’t speak to me 
a man who is only barely out of 23???
and instead only whispers
 to you?????
bruh, she’s clearly not fond of me. 
and you’re not a liar , 
so don’t 
she had to tell you that she wasn’t the one putting out “aggy energy”
specifically
during yennayer which
i ruined
and im still sorru
but which means
she’s probably done it in your apartment on purpose already, boo
didn’t think of that, did you
lingustically.,,,,,nope.
oh, but there’s power in a whisper, darling.
i am just cardinal like you
i am air too.
  i should know 
bc i accidentally whistled....and,,,,,,
i only blockedt you so that you wouldn’t “hurt [your] own feelings”
 like you told anan you sometimes do.
sooooooooooooo yea... i
did it so you wouldn’t hurt you. 
as cardinal water/pisces moons 
are prone to do.
you can;t drain
and you can’t drown
 ain’t that how i affirmed you
i already hurt me 
when i dissociated 
and i’m STILL FUCKING sorry 
that there was blood that you had to see. 
i couldn’t stay in my body long enough to clean fast enough
but i still didn’t want you to hurt you bc of me.
like you did repeatedly
bc of bpd or bc of basically cishet or at least cis ~queer girls
or other partners 
like when you were with kat,
who’s still disgustingly attached to a messy white
and now a new black kid.....
or with shushoo.
and how you might with alesia.
no, correction: how you have with alesia. 
how you will continue to, if you’re not careful, with alesia.
you’re a lion facing a prince of a house kitten ,....,
.,, who is homeless.
do you feel good, big boss?
all i asked was for you to listen t
o how you were speaking to me 
on the phone 
at your place of work 
and when she’s there
possibly a place of worshiop
..... even after i told you 
that i was intentionally putting energy into Not fighting you
and you
  say you
"don’t wanna be a middle person" 
but you also….wanna cape for yet another fucking cis girl.
who isn’t even muslim this time. 
HOWtragic.
i couldn’t laugh
couldn’t ever laugh at sway
bc by whatever fortune if you do split or don’t 
 i still  love you
i love you too much
but in those moments after that phone call….
after my phone died…
and my body couldn’t move to charge it.
wouldn’t move….
and all i could do was cry during the adhan.
bc you’re tooo much like matt now
i wish i knew what it could feel like to
 hate someone 
who called you 
"OLD NEWS” 
compared to a bitch pushing 30 
youza WHOLE fuckn clown, dawg.
matt did this same shit
move me out for a new side bitch
yet anotehr cis
look at how cute trans love can be
oh
no
NO
no,
no
no
this is what you give me:
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laughter.
BC what fucking luck.
BUT IT’S gotta be TROOF
  s ince you don’t lie?/?
shit I LAUGHED TOO:
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it sounds like….
NEITHER OF US
KNEW WHAT COULD
HAVE BROUGHT US
HERE, ELI.
maybe you nursing poison in your own home
and telling me i’m making you feel unwelcomed
on a blog and not to my face did it
fuckingggggggggg. why’ald.
you think it’s too much sweat????? false. 
that apartment stayed cold.
too many tears?
 ok ok yea troof.
but too much love? forreal?
we?????
ooooop
hoooop!!!
oh, you speakin’ french now. our collective colonizers tongue in 20gayteeeeeeeen?????
CAN’T RELATE 
bc I’M TOOOOOO GAY
wow. we ruined it, fam???? fr fr?
nah, chosen fam.
you ruined us.
you ruined us over:
 a cis girl and
your own impatience
and your own anger.
and my slow brain and my slow body
//
i’m not sure she’d find you from maryland
if you dissociated bc your other semi
 but not 
girlfriend emotionally abused you
until people who didn’t know you were muslim
thought you were fucking drunk
and you fucking stilllllll 
work with her?????
why couldn’t you just wait until she found a new job???
ain’t she trying????
or izzzzzz she??????
hahhnh???
where was the damn rush?????
you’re like two goofy high schoool kids 
reaching for the quickest nuts every 6 hours
 like jesus fuck.
you’re irresponsible as shit telling me i’m a grown man making grown decisions and i see this 
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?????
unREASONABLE, ELI.
this isn’t a situation of a kettle calling a pot black
 babe
bc i’m actually Black
and you’re not
but she’s black too.
what did i tell you:
"you datin’ two whole Niggas. if you fight me over her, you will lose either way.”
but instead you called me “obtuse”
SAT words for me
 but not for you…….what.,,,.,,,,,,,, fckn luck……..
what luck,,,,,that the one person who housed me consistently
and kept me alive
when i trusted no one
would call me "old news”
and let their cis girlfriend
 turn herself into your
personal "healing” …...
sibkid. \\\\
howTragic like all of CC’18
you know what happens when you slip and get sloppy and let a baby bitch be responsible for your healing?
she leaves. 
for a real bitch 
with microhealing abilities, 
GOOFY.
she worships a new goddess every friday?????
well, i know only of orixas 
and only of black power
 but from what i know of goddesses OFF of OUR continent…
soooon...
at least one of them WILL want a soul from her
just letting you know it might not have to be hers.
…..OH!
and when i chargedt and openedt my phone after days of wandering. ….the last messages from you are:
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YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID “LEAVE [[[[MMMMMYYYYYYY]]]]]] KEYS”
like a fucking baby.
imagine that.
even to you, i’m still a whore.
out…the…bakc….dooor.
??????
i couldn’t even work a john when i wanted to
 if i was sad about you.
but imagine?????
  a cis-pixie woman older than you
letting you treat her like a child?????
then
imagine me feeling shamed into leaving
bc of pictures of your smiling face
after i cut myself and felt shame 
that
in your unwelcomed  to both me and you
BLOOD
 blood 
is what brings me back
 to life.
how.
fucking.
why’yald.
i blockedt you so that you didn’t lurk.
bc THat is what you do.
instead of speaking with me, 
you seem to have expected me
 to read your blog back 7 years.
and just know all of the fatherly things that trigger you.
like…even during the times when i was afraid of my own phone and laptop for 2 months bc of my sister, brother, and birth parents????
funny how i’m the youngest of us “grown folks” and yet still find that really 
FUCKING
immature.
of YOU
to do
you really never knew me, or did you…..??
you donated to me before you even knew me.
so i know your heart has parts made of gold.
but now you show off your crystals and your gold.~~~
yep.
here we are.
you’ve "only every seen [me] as a boy.”
ok. bet.
and unti this post:
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i’ve hardly heard you refer to me as a man.
so:
ain’t you late?
ain’t you late, babe??
ain’t you late?
i’m a year younger than you.
which means if you grown
i musta BEEN a man too, boo.
but you’ll always be
 my favorite accomplice
 and always be my favorite friend too.
but you cannot think you can play me by calling me
 “old too” or “old news"
 for young fish who is basically femme trade
and thinking i won’t cut open a fool.
which coincidentally always happens to be me
she’s hardly out to anybody important and lying at work too.
i must be bigger fool.
bc you knew better and didn’t do better.
but i’m being immature.
  ok ...,.,,.,,
cute.
your pisces moon is keeping you from seeing clearly but that’s what young water seems…to do. to much light reflected; tho it is a fountain of youth.
she’s pushing 30 baby 
but true, you’re her boo.
yea, a childish boo.
you ever wonder why her playlist from you had more songs than ours did?
why she can never keep a man around for valentines day?
oh but don’t you love “patterns”, baby????
unless it’s her leaving shit around the apartment
or her triggering you
or her treating your dick like it’s foreign, 
even to you.
my gay ass was shookedt 
when you told me you voluntarily 
triggered yourself
 for her kitty too
but i AM 
a grown man
 who is “running” from….you
you think that statement is not…. dishonest??
you really think that statement is true???
i didn’t run. i just
needed space
and you afforded me none.
you couldn’’t afford it.
february is before march which is before april 
sooooooo it’s always a tight month ain’t it???????
oooooooh but you afforded her plenty.
she gets to take off her fucking pants while i try to figure out if i should move from a spot next to you….
on your fucking bed.
she took off her pants to climb near you before she could even say hi to 
nooonoo
ahh right
and THEN ME.
“Oh, you CAN stay”
that’s what She told me.
and you said nothing.
so i left….the room.
i never run.
you pushed me out with your captain save-a-cis silence.
it’s violence.
and
you’re still pushing and pushing and pushing and pushing 
until me…you know 
i, the "old news” 
just feels like he should just 
fucking fall 
onto the district streets
and she finds it
to her fucking fancy 
to fall
 into your lap
like a damn,,,,zel. 
distressedt.
with a roof over her head outside of your apartment too.
woooooooops!
yip, as she is probably prone to do.
her kind….isn’t new….boo.
her kind isn’t new to me
her kind isn’t new to you
you ever wonder why she feels so familiar to you?
she reminds Me of the girl who told you 
she could never marry you 
and is now trying to date someone just like you
so don’t be so unkind to me 
or to you 
or be so foolish
 as to believe i gave up on you
you gave up on me
and on top of that
you think i just...ran
ran….with what clothing?
the ones you packed up for me and left at the door 
that i was suppose to pick up 
and slide out the back….like a fucking whore?
you just tryna be
a cissie's bae
who stay clownin on trans folks now?
oooooooh issa bet, mo
. i mean.,,,.,,.mhhhh i guess?
—==—
but troooof, i don’t “need" anybody.
but i want you.
but you need her.
that’s how it work, don’t it?????
that’s why you risk job security every day.
and let her leave her panties on my clothes.
and let her tell me i "can stay" in …..A, not MY, spot next to you
in yo'bed?
what fucking fools. the two of you.
but “no one is forcing [me] to"
oh, baby you /are/ forcing me too
i look on your blog and then find out you’ve been feeling “unwelcome in [your] own home”
this whole fucking time
all the way since early november, innit?????
if i love you at all, 
what else am i to do?????????????
??????????????????????????/
know that you will self-destruct 
and just…wait for you to????????????????????
???????????????????????????????/
no
i didn’t run.
you just fucking pushed me.
and you’re still fucking pushing.
and you’ll keep pushing.
bc that is what you do.
embe…..@strawberreli 
se sá’m te konne nu’ou.
you like microblogging so much
so like it if you read this shit
1 note · View note
kariachi · 8 years
Text
@mellenabrave
Ben is thirty-six when he picks up art again.
He’s fresh from a divorce that’s all his fault, has lost custody of his daughter who knows it, and is left with a son he adores and a house that was already too big when there were four people living in it. He hates his job, he hates his town, he almost hates his ex and definitely hates himself.
A midlife crisis has hit hard and early.
So, he does something he hasn’t done in decades, he goes to a craft store in his local mall, buys pencils and notebooks, and gets to work. Art had always been where he went to hide when he was young, from the stress and drama that made up his family. Hopefully it can get him through this too.
~~
Twenty years since he’s last done anything more than doodles for his kids and it turns out he’s still got it.
~~
His home and office is littered with his works two years later when he picks up his ringing cell.
“You have to do this for the sake of the children.”
Which is not the strangest start to a conversation that’s happened between him and his ex, but is certainly up there.
“Hello to you too, Kai. What do I have to do for the kids?”
“You know that author Gwen’s obsessed with?” Ben has to wrack his brain to remember. The name doesn’t come to him, but he knows he’s writes children’s books. Kai’d gotten Gwen one of his books, an alternate history where dragons were indigenous to the Americas and the native peoples had domesticated them, and she’s been insisting on getting his works for every occasion ever since. Even Kenny is getting into it, now that he’s old enough to start reading some of his simpler works.
“Yeah. What did he put out another book?”
“Better, apparently he’s looking for a new illustrator.” Pausing in his vain attempts at dinner, Ben stands straighter.
“Really?”
“Yes. You have to apply.”
“Kai…”
“I’m serious, you’re really good, you love making things for the kids, and if Gwen ever finds out you didn’t she’ll never forgive you.” She still hasn’t forgiven him for the divorce and the idea that she could hate him even more tears Ben’s heart open.
“Okay, send me the information.”
~~
He needs to put together a portfolio and a resume and a cover letter and everything, but despite a lack of art-related references Ben manages to snag an interview. It’s over lunch, with a brown-skinned man with a smile sharp enough to cut cheese who introduces himself as Mr. Levin’s editor and publisher. There are tons of questions, from how long he’s been drawing to where he learned to why he wants to illustrate this author’s work.
Mr. Bustillo melts when Ben answers the last with pictures of his kids. At the end of the interview he slides him a paragraph’s worth of information and asks that Ben send them in a piece of cover art for the book so described, just to be sure.
~~
A week later Ben quits his job in favor of the illustrator gig. It pays less, but Levin churns out stories like medieval peasants churn butter so he won’t be lacking for work, and more importantly he enjoys it.
~~
It’s not until the first time they meet face to face to go over detail work that Ben learns Levin’s full name.
Kevin Ethan Levin.
He just about falls out of his chair he’s laughing so hard.
“Hey Argi. Yeah, listen, I want a new illustrator.”
~~
Ben does not lose his job, although he does end up buying Kevin a pizza. It’s worth it to keep his job, especially as he looks at more of Kevin’s work and realizes just how diverse he makes his stories.
That’s the sort of artist Ben can really like.
~~
Benji,
Okay man, I’ll level with you, you can’t make all the mains look like your kids. At least half of them need to look like mine.
Kev
Scratch that, this is the sort’ve artist Ben can love.
~~
Ben and Kevin both sign a special edition of the first of his books that Gwen read. It’s her Christmas present and the first time she hugs Ben in three years.
~~
Ben first meets Kevin’s kids that first winter. His house loses power during a bad storm and as soon as he hears Kevin insists on driving out to grab he and Kenny and take them back to his place.
Devlin, the youngest, is only a year older than Kenny and very shy, but within minutes has been dragged bodily back to his room so he can show him all his toys. The oldest, meanwhile, just glowers from his spot pressed against the fireplace when Ben first waves.
“Cyril Augustine Levin, I raised you better!” Kevin’s hands are on his hips and something about the stern frown on his face makes Ben want to swoon even as Aggy rolls his eyes, gives the most put-upon “hi” he’s ever heard, and goes back to his book.
“Not one of yours?” he asks once he and Kevin have made it to the kitchen, curled up around two mugs of coffee.
“No, he’s reading it for school. Goes to the University on the other side of town.”
“What’s he studying?”
“Anything that doesn’t involve people asking about his dad the author.”
~~
Once they’re safe and comfy back in their own home Kenny immediately asks if Ben is going to marry Kevin.
He hustles him off to bed, ignoring his son’s insisting that he is definitely blushing.
~~
Kenny and Devlin are fast friends from the first, which means suddenly Kevin and Ben are no longer just coworkers. At least once a week they find themselves taking a few hours for playdates, letting the elementary schoolers run themselves ragged while they have some adult conversation.
He learns a lot about Kevin. He’s a widower twice over, one wife for each son, though he refuses to go into more detail than “accident” and “illness”. He and his sons are mutants. He comes from a neglectful home. Argi has been his best friend since college. His favorite color is blue, he find carnivals boring, loves sheep and their cheese, and he and his kids are all allergic to strawberries.
Ben also learns that his nose crinkles when he laughs. That when you really look you can see a small patch of blue in his left eye. That he’s wild about the same old-school videogame series as Ben is and has all the movies. He works out daily to maintain those massive muscles of his. That his smile is the most amazing thing.
More and more time in the Tennyson home is spent ignoring Kenny’s not-so-subtle comments about how much he wants big brothers.
~~
“So, the prince in the latest one looks and sounds pretty familiar.”
“Yeah, it’s so sweet of Kev to be basing more of his protags off Kenny.”
“…why did I marry you again?”
~~
The fourth time he and Kevin go out for a business dinner and he catches himself staring at his mouth, he almost gives up altogether and makes a move. Almost.
Thankfully he’s not that stupid.
~~
Their second winter working together, Kevin insists on walking him and Kenny back to their car after a playdate. He holds Ben’s frigid hand the whole way down the walk and Ben feels like he’s going to catch fire.
If anyone asks he only lingered because his fingers were frozen into position.
~~
Ben’s curled up on the couch with a bag of Bugles and a beer, watching Kevin get interviewed on a talk show. They’ve covered such topics as why he writes what he does (he has kids), why his works are so diverse (because the world is and anyone with a problem with that can fight him), and the topics he chooses for his short stories (the woman is smart enough not to argue about the latest one, Kevin is very proud of ‘Andy’s Own Cookbook’ and would not have been responsible for any blood shed) when the host gives him a knowing smile.
“And what about the rumors going around that you and your illustrator are in a relationship?” Ben chokes on a Bugle, doubly so when Kevin groans and collapses back as much as he can.
“I wish!” he says and Ben about dies right there on the couch. “I have been as unsubtle as possible without just dragging him into a closet.” The host laughs. Ben’s entire body is on fire. Kevin likes him.
“Not one to pick up hints, huh?” Kevin groans again, rolling his eyes.
“He’s just damn lucky he’s cute.”
~~
Ben is forty years old, curled up on his boyfriend’s couch with the older man’s head in his lap. He has Gwen for the weekend and so far she’s spent it with a stack of books, sitting on the floor with Kenny and Devlin and forcing Aggy to read them to him.
“He’s really good with the voices,” Ben notes offhand and Kevin nods.
“He gets that from his mother.”
“Oh thank god one of them got something, was beginning to think they were actually clones.” Kevin smacks him in the gut for the comment, glaring at him with a look that’s trying very hard not to be a smile, and Ben responds by pulling him up for a brief kiss.
He loves his life.
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junker-town · 6 years
Text
6 college football teams nobody really wants to play right now
The Top Whatever is a weekly ranking of only the teams that must be ranked at this exact second.
1. UCF. Still undefeated, still champs, can still go to Disney any time they want, haters.
Actually, this brings me to a terrifying point about Orlando and UCF: this exactly the city and team someone would have designed as an eight-year-old. UCF’s first shot at designing a mascot? Something an eight-year-old would make.
Their all-aluminum stadium that looks like an Lego Technic set and at one point included such childish oversights as “whoops, we forgot the water fountains?” Also clearly the work of an eight-year-old.
Being undefeated, yet unable to eat at the big kids’ table? Also a very Orlando thing, especially this year, when they could win the rest of their games and still not get any closer to the playoff because of their conference and schedule. But we got straight A’s! Yes, it’s third grade math, though, and Alabama is out here doing differential equations in their sleep.
That is not your fault, UCF. That’s just where you’re at in a very unfair world. Some consolation: no other team is both 20 minutes from Splash Mountain and in a community where you can pay traffic tickets in fruit snacks.
2. Clemson. Remember when Clemson won a close game at Texas A&M earlier this year? It was a 28-26 squeaker, definitive evidence of a lot of things people wanted to assume from one college football game.
For instance, after the Texas A&M game, Clemson’s starter was clearly Kelly Bryant and not upstart Trevor Lawrence, the Tiger secondary had serious issues, and Travis Etienne and the rest of the run game were going to struggle. A&M, meanwhile, was just two points away from joining the elite, and Jimbo Fisher’s $70 million guaranteed salary was already worth it.
It’s November now. Clemson’s run game has razed much of the ACC, averaging 265 yards a game and giving luxurious protection for Lawrence, the starting QB. The defense hasn’t allowed anything close to the yardage A&M earned in College Station that night and has only allowed one team to hit triple digits both rushing and passing in a single game. That was NC State, and Clemson won, 41-7.
Texas A&M just lost to Auburn, a team desperate to fire its coach with a gigantic buyout.
No one is getting anything from Clemson this year, not on the ground, not through the air, and not in turnovers or easy possessions from their offense. They move like a service academy on the ground, defend like an Alabama, and are grooming their next wunderkind QB in practice sessions everyone else calls “live conference games.” The ceiling for this team is theoretical, at an altitude high enough to require powerful telescopes to see.
Oh, and they’re not even close to that ceiling yet.
3. Alabama.
pic.twitter.com/wpRw6yIFbr
— Evil Greg Byrne (@EvilADByrne) November 5, 2018
I dunno. That’s Alabama, the team so unchallenged, other teams are resorting to desperate measures like “flying helmet-first into the apparently adamantine testicles of the immortal quarterback.”
Tua Tagovailoa described the hit by LSU as “right in the goodies,” and he had to come out for a minute. He had a mediocre night, at least on the Tagovailoa curve: 344 yards total offense, two passing TDs, one rushing TD, and his first interception of the season, which still worked out nicely for the Tide.
It is terrifying how far Alabama has come since Nick Saban’s arrival, but especially terrifying when the quarterback position is taken into account. Alabama won a national title with glorified placeholders like Greg McElroy at the helm, then turned to the workmanlike A.J. McCarron to run a standard pro-style offense for another pair of titles.
Someone named Jacob Coker won a national championship? I think that happened, though if anyone says there was anything particularly memorable about Jacob Coker, they are either a.) lying or b.) talking to Jacob Coker.
The final pivot is the really mindbending one. Alabama switched to what looked a lot like a spread run game, started a quarterback who was nothing like his predecessors in Jalen Hurts, and ran him to another shot at a national title before switching to the next coming of Football Jesus himself in Tagovailoa.
Switching styles of offense is one thing. It’s something teams don’t do much, much less without a head coaching change. But doing that in three or possibly four different variations over the course of a decade, with five or six differently styled players, all without losing momentum?
That’s something that would kill lesser regimes. It’s evidence that Alabama’s talent level is so absurd it can sustain decisions that have destroyed other teams. It’s also evidence that Saban, for all the jokes about how much he hates changing anything, is actually brilliant at managing change.
They’re all so good at it, in fact, that Tua’s worst night of the year ended up bottoming out somewhere around other starting QBs’ best. Play your best game, and you might see eye-to-eye with Alabama’s worst. GOOD LUCK.
4. Utah State. The Aggies are a combination of two things no one wants a piece of: overdue and over.
Utah State is overdue in the sense that injuries and bad luck limited their production in 2015 and 2016. Rollover points aren’t real, but they might be for Utah State, a team on an eight-game win streak in which they’ve averaged over 50 points a game and destroyed everything in their wake.
They’re over in the sense that they are literally over, beating the spread by 13 points a game in 2018.
Most of that is due to the players, but some credit should also go to offensive coordinator David Yost for his aggressive schemes, play calling, and hair.
Utah State's Offensive Coordinator David Yost has turned the Aggies into an offensive juggernaut. This is how he did it. https://t.co/wpdAEOiMmF pic.twitter.com/lshCR4GQLE
— The Salt Lake Tribune (@sltrib) October 19, 2018
Mostly his hair, tbh.
5. Michigan. The 127 Hours of teams. Play Michigan, and they’re going to take a limb and immobilize you. Not in a super flashy way, no, but brutally enough to let you know: you live out here now, and you’re not going anywhere.
Ultimately, to get away, your team will have to cut its arm off with a pocket knife. Only Notre Dame brought one this year, but fortunately, Brian Kelly regrows limbs like a starfish.
6. Iowa State. The Cyclones switched to freshman QB Brock Purdy after a loss to TCU on September 29th. Since then, Iowa State has upset Oklahoma State in Stillwater, dealt out one of the most lopsided asskickings of the year against West Virginia, and fended off a frenetic Texas Tech for a win.
They also beat Kansas, which was a team effort. We say that to differentiate the team win from Hakeem Butler getting KU’s coach fired with a single play. That was an individual effort, and Butler deserves credit for that.
Hakeem Butler just #Mossed a KU defender. Then #GetOffOfMe!! pic.twitter.com/i6uB71cLDa
— Sage Rosenfels (@SageRosenfels18) November 3, 2018
Is it possible to burn someone so badly it gets their boss fired? The evidence here seems to speak for itself.
No one wants to play Iowa State right now, and no one should, because after years of joking about how playing in Ames is a recipe for disaster — without a lot of real evidence to back that up — that reality has arrived. Don’t go to Ames. There are no funny accidents out there anymore, just dark, sinister farm country, where good teams actually do go to die at the hands of a gifted freshman QB and the Big 12’s best scoring defense.
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aggimaginary · 6 years
Text
The Grinch 2: Happy New Year Chapter 9-The Grinch’s confessions and flashbacks
After 30 minutes of practicing for a new music video for her team, Aggie went out of her room to do a little stretching and rest her voice. She went downstairs to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
She was encountered by Max, who got off of his doggy bed and bounced high up on her chest.
"Hey, Max, I was going to get some water," Aggie said as she opened the refrigerator door, and saw a pitcher of water. "I hope Grinch won't mind that I can get some water." She found a glass, poured some water in it, and drank it to sooth her throat after a long practice for a music video. "I feel great! Hey, where's your master, Max?"
The dog pointed the door with his paw.
"Ugh, what is he doing outside?" grunted Aggie. She got out of the cave, and shut the door behind her, only to found the Grinch sitting at the edge of the land way. "Oh, there he is. I thought he's heading back to town again." Aggie smiled in relief. She walked towards the edge, and sat besides him, "Hey, bud."
The Grinch has his arms crossed while sitting on the edge and stared at the town of Whoville. At least he still has the mood to greet a friend, "Hi, Aggie."
"Whatcha doin' here?" When she asked, Aggie could caught a glance of what the Grinch was staring or watching at. "Wow, you can see the whole town from up here! It's so beautiful! No wonder you like living here!"
"Technically, I lived here in Mt. Crumpit to get away from the Whos," Grinch explained as he hung his head down. "Ever since no one adopted me and got away from the orphanage, I decided to live away from this town and stayed here in my cave. I don't want the town and the Whos to recall my past. That's why I want to be alone, to find some peace."
Aggie nodded slowly and silently, knowing how the Grinch felt, "You know, staying away won't solve your problem."
"I know. I should've done this before. When I admit to the Whos that I stole their Christmas stuff and returned them, I told them how I feel, and how sad I was when I'm alone. I guess confessing your feelings makes you a lot better, huh? I mean, sharing feelings to others can release those negative thoughts and makes you relieve."
"It's so true. When I confessed my sad feelings to my family and friends, I cried so hard that I felt my negative thoughts were flown away with my tears, and I feel so much better."
The Grinch and Aggie kept quiet and staring at the view of the town for a while with a cool breeze blew across their faces.
"So, uh..." the winged human broke the silent. "Is this why you came out here alone? Because if this is about the music I played, I'm sorry about that. I was practicing for a music video. My team and I are going to make a music video this January once I finished this mission."
"No, it's not that, and sorry I didn't have the chance to help you with your mission," the Grinch replied.
"That's okay. I think I already found my mission."
"You do?"
"Yeah, but first, I want to know. Why you're out here anyway?"
The Grinch then raised his head up. His cheeks turned red that if he told her what's going on, she'll proudly said she was right about him liking Donna Lou, "It's nothing, really. It's embarrassing."
"Come on. I know there's a reason why you're here. It's written all over your face. After all, we're friends now. You can tell me," Aggie elbowed his arm, but still, she got no responds. "If you won't tell me, I'll push you off the cliff!"
The Grinch scooted aside in fear, "Alright, alright, I'll talk! Just don't push me, okay? But it's not really a big deal."
"Everything's a big deal, Grinch. Now, tell me. What's troubling ya?"
He sighed in defeat, "You and Bricklebaum are right."
"About what?" Aggie asked.
The Grinch cringed a little, and murmured softly, hating to admit it, "I'm... in... love with..."
But Aggie can't hear him, "A little louder, please."
"I'M IN LOVE WITH DONNA LOU, OKAY?!"
Aggie want to squeal in delight at first, but she was frightened when the Grinch yelled at her.
His new friend backed away a little, quiet frightened when he yelled at her like that. When the Grinch saw how scared Aggie is, he calmed himself down and exhaled, "I'm sorry. I didn't to yell at you."
"That's okay. I know how people feel when they admit something that they denied it," Aggie said. "So..., what makes you say that you're falling in love with her? And when?"
"I think that was after Christmas, before you came here. I-I don't know my feelings for her for a short while. Almost everyone of you said I'm in love with her, but I don't because we're just friends, and I'm only helping her because Cindy-Lou wished her mother to be happy, and she's counting on me to do such a thing. But when I helped Donna since Day 1 and how she appreciated all my help, she seems so nice, kind and... beautiful," The Grinch started to describe Donna in his head. "When I see her for three mornings, she was still beautiful even if she worked hard preparing breakfast for his kids, very strong enough to take her responsibilities on her own, and she trusted me to watch her kids. I mean, no one has ever trust me on things before. It was unexpected. Then, when she almost kissed me yesterday, I suddenly developed that sudden feeling that I never felt before. I can't stop thinking about her or what you said. I think it's all true. "
While listening, Aggie just stared in silent and frozen, quite touch about the Grinch's story of his feelings. She can't even react quickly, "Wow. I can't believe you've told me that. Very interesting."
"It's like I know her before."
"Say what?"
"When I first met her, Donna was so familiar. She looks like that Who girl who intruded outside my cave more than 20 years ago..."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
25 years ago
The young Grinch stayed in his cave alone, sitting in front of the fireplace to keep himself warm from the cold blizzard outside.
Just then, someone or something tapped on his door. The Grinch was too lazy to check on the door and he was not in a mood for visitors. He tried to ignore it, but the tapping continued.
"Ugh, who could be here in this snowy blizzard?" He grunted as he got up from his chair, and went downstairs to take the door.
When he answered the door, there was no one outside as the snowy blizzard was getting windy, colder and stronger. Then, he noticed a red balloon above his head.
"What the—? A balloon?"
The Grinch grabbed the string of the balloon, and stared at it, wondering how the balloon flew all the way up here. Just then, he heard a whimpering sound that is not so far from his cave. When he walked a little further from his cave, he found a little Who girl behind one of his signs, shivering in coldness while hugging herself, trying to keep herself warm. Her coat and scarf weren't warm enough for her from this blizzard. She didn't even have a hood, causing her long blonde hair to cover by the snow. The Grinch wanted to leave the little girl since he doesn't have any business with her, but he couldn't stop hearing that whimpering shivering sound from the Who girl, and if he leave her there, she'll die. He knew he's not that kind of person of leaving a child to death as the Grinch slowly held the little girl in his arms, and took her in his cave.
The Grinch put the girl on his bed. He checked her temperature by touching her forehead. She was burning hot, like having a fever. She was really freezing out in the cold. He quickly want downstairs to boil hot water in a kettle on his fireplace, took out a basin and towel, and brought them back up in his room. Grinch placed the small tower with warm water on the girl's forehead, and covered her with his blanket. He also made hot soup for her to warm her insides. Even if the girl is still shivering and her eyes are close, she can feel a spoon of soup in front of her lips as she took a sip of it from the spoon. The Grinch kept feeding the girl with hot soup to cure her from fever. He realized he can't bring the little girl back to Whoville because of the storm. As he hate to admit it, the Grinch decided to let the little girl stayed here for the night, and he'll sleep downstairs on the couch.
The next morning, Grinch went upstairs to check on his "patient". The little girl is still sleeping. He checked her temperature, and it was normal now. Gladly, she didn't die, and she's healthy. He noticed that the storm is over, and the sun is rising. It's time to take the little Who girl home as he wrapped her with a big towel to keep her warm. He wrapped a scarf around his neck, and held a red balloon that he kept last night before going out of the door.
When he walked down the sloping land way from his cave, the Grinch can't even glance at the little girl for a moment. He just can't believe he's helping a Who. He may not regret it, but at least he can get rid of her from his territory. When he made it to town, and no one's watching him, the Grinch put the little girl on a bench, leaving her with his towel and tying the string of the balloon around her right wrist. The Grinch ran off out of town and back to Mt. Crumpit before anyone noticing him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Present day.
When he told Aggie about his story, the Grinch soon realized that the little Who girl he rescued was none other than Donna Lou Who.
"That was her all along," he gasped.
"Maybe meeting and knowing her more might be your destiny," Aggie said.
"I don't think that's my destiny, Aggie. I've been alone fore decades now. How can it be my destiny that it happened just now?" Grinch hung his head down sadly. He's been waiting for his destiny for so long, and he didn't believe on those things now.
Aggie placed her hand on the Grinch's shoulder, "You know what? Why don't we go inside and eat? It's getting cold anyway."
The Grinch nodded as the two went inside the cave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's almost lunch time, but they decided to eat early as the Grinch only served left over roast beef that Donna offered to him after Christmas dinner. He even cut a slice for Max.
"Sorry about it. This is the only food I had for lunch," The Grinch said to Aggie.
"No problem," She replied. "In fact, I'm a meat-eater myself. I thought you Whos are vegetarians. In many worlds that I visited, people don't eat meat, like in Equestria! They are all ponies. They are all vegetarians, they don't eat meat. Even in Cars world where all creatures are vehicles; cars, planes, boats, and others. Even animals are cars. Clearly they are all made in metal, so they don't eat meat, so do I when I lived there." When Aggie cut the beef and took a slice, she suddenly changed the topic and cleared her throat. "Enough with this. Let's get back to your situation."
"You call that situation?" Grinch sliced his food.
"Yes. That's my mission."
"What mission?"
"This mission! This is the problem. You have feelings for Donna, but you're afraid to admit it, and now, you're even afraid to confess! Although it's more like a love problem than a friendship problem."
"So, this means you were sent here to help me confess my feelings for Donna Lou? Wow, sending you here for this is so ridiculous."
"Let's go straight to the point, shall we?! I have to finish this mission so I can go home with my family, and celebrating New Year with them! So, you have a problem with your new strange feelings and your destiny. And it's my job to help you with that."
"Listen, Aggie, it's not gonna work. I mean, Donna Lou and I just friends. Nothing's gonna happen between us," Grinch protested.
"A man like you and a woman like her cannot be just friends," Aggie took a bite of the beef. "There's more than that."
"I'm not a man that she expected, Aggie. I'm the Grinch who hates Christmas, being accompanied by none except his dog, and steals the whole town's Christmas."
"First, you used to hate Christmas and everyone who likes it, and you did return their Christmas stuff and they forgave you, including Donna. If you have feelings for her, you must confess!"
"But how can she be in love with someone like me?! What if she doesn't like me? I'm too different and too old for her!" The Grinch was so desperate, he can't tell his new friend the reason why he can't be in love with Donna Lou.
"Age, species, they didn't matter. You have to show her that she means to you, and you mean to her," Aggie told him.
"How can I do that?"
"Just leave it all to me... because I know exactly how do that."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The places were mentioned in this chapter
Equestria-My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic Cars world-Cars 1,2 and 3
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junker-town · 7 years
Text
Will Texas and Texas A&M play again? The post-breakup tracker
Realignment broke up one of college football's greatest hate-relationships, but the two won't stop eying each other. Let's keep track as they work their way to meeting up again. Last updated Oct. 26.
Texas and Texas A&M. It's a relationship that goes way back, but after an ugly conference realignment breakup, the two just can't seem to get back on the same page.
Here's a timeline of their trials and tribulations since splitting apart.
Oct. 25, 2017
The governor wants to get involved.
Texas Gov. Greg Abbott: "My next goal as governor is to reunite the Texas-Texas A&M rivalry. Hook 'em Horns."
— Brian Davis (@BDavisAAS) October 25, 2017
THE HEAT SCALE, rating the flirtatious energy between Texas and A&M: 2, because the governor isn’t in charge here. Just because an ex-couple’s parents badly want them to get back together doesn’t mean the kids will go along with it.
July 17, 2017
Texas' new head coach is on board!
Tom Herman on scheduling: "We don't play a rival at home ever. I don't know why we can't play A&M as our marquee non-conference opponent."
— Brian Davis (@BDavisAAS) July 18, 2017
THE HEAT SCALE: 4. Texas' old head coach was also on board, and look where that got us.
June 28, 2017
"Their AD (DeLoss Dodds) at the time came out and said we will never play Texas A&M again, and they worked along with Baylor and the conference to have no one in the (Big 12) schedule us," former A&M AD Greg Byrne said. "There were other forces at work to make sure we didn't play."
THE HEAT SCALE: 4. That story has a bunch of disheartening stuff on this rivalry and Kansas-Missouri, but that particular quote is at least hot.
June 16, 2017
"Me, personally? I think over the course of time that's going to happen," A&M head coach Kevin Sumlin said when asked, while also talking about how well he knows new Horns coach Tom Herman. "With our move to the SEC, scheduling has become a real issue."
THE HEAT SCALE: 3. Sumlin's been predicting a reunion for years now, not that we don't appreciate him doing so.
June 10, 2016
"They're trying to work something out right now where we're going to play the Aggies," Charlie Strong said at an event. A Texas spokesman said no specifics have been discussed, but we didn't even hear any of the words in this second sentence.
THE HEAT SCALE: 8. Do it.Texas and Texas A&M. It's a relationship that goes way back, but after an ugly conference realignment breakup, the two just can't seem to get back on the same page.
April 14, 2016
A&M athletic director Scott Woodward, via DailyTrib.com in Texas:
Will the Aggies play the University of Texas in football again?
"We have to really assess what is our best path to winning the (Southeastern Conference) West," Woodward said. "I don't foresee anything happening in the near future. There are a lot of opinions well above my pay grade. Rivalries, I think, are healthy for the game.
"It'll be something we'll consider," he added. "It'll be a discussion I'll have to have. I have no objection to it. It's something that has to work for us and for folks."
HEAT SCALE: 5.
March 19, 2016
The two nearly played again in March Madness, but Texas had to go and lose to Northern Iowa on a buzzer beater. Aggies everywhere were torn between laughing at rivals and lamenting the chance to square off, but the likely A&M starting QB had the definitive opinion:
lol http://pic.twitter.com/S95xNzXEfi
— Jake Hubenak (@hubenak_j) March 19, 2016
HEAT SCALE: Unchanged. Laughing at your fallen rival is standard human behavior.
September 30, 2015
Texas A&M regent Tony Buzbee in a Facebook post, via the Austin American-Statesman:
I am going to advocate that the Aggies play Texas again in the near future. Because of our brutal SEC West schedule [...], the Aggies need some cupcake games to rest and heal. In my view, Texas is just as weak if not weaker than the non-conference games we play, so we may as well play them.
HEAT SCALE: 5. Buzbee is, as he mentions, only one regent, and regents aren't athletic directors, but eating pastries is often an enjoyable date activity.
June 18, 2015
Texas A&M chancellor John Sharp is quoted as saying this in response to Texas selling beer at games now:
A&M chancellor Sharp on alcohol at events: "Our athletic program has not reached the point where we require the numbing effects of alcohol."
— Gabe Bock (@GabeBock) June 18, 2015
HEAT SCALE: 3. These rivals can neither imbibe nor abstain without thinking of each other, but we already knew that.
May 8, 2015
A&M chancellor John Sharp took swipes at the Longhorn Network and Texas' recent on-field struggles in an interview.
We're hopeful that sometime in the future there will be a bowl game that we're able to play in, you know, if [Texas] gets there. But the great thing about playing us is that you can get on real TV if you play us.
HEAT SCALE: 2. Sharp ended with "of course I'm just joking about all of this." Stick to your guns, John!
April 16, 2015
When asked about renewing the rivalry, Strong joked that he wasn't pushing too hard for it yet because he wanted to win some games first. Specifically, he said "I don't know if I want to go walking into College Station right now."
That has caught on at A&M, including with incoming five-star defensive tackle Daylon Mack, who signed with the Aggies over Texas.
http://pic.twitter.com/A7D5F0TWex
— THEE MACK TRUCK (@DaylonMack) April 16, 2015
HEAT SCALE: 7. Twitter banter's usually a 2, but that shirt's a 5 by itself.
April 14, 2015
Oh my:
Texas' Charlie Strong and Texas A&M's Kevin Sumlin both in the last week expressed to ESPN.com a desire to resume playing the longstanding rivalry after a three-year hiatus that coincided with the Aggies leaving the Big 12 and joining the SEC in 2012.
HEAT SCALE: 8.
July 23, 2014
Texas coach Charlie Strong on playing Texas A&M: “You would like to see us play each other"
— Brett McMurphy (@Brett_McMurphy) July 23, 2014
HEAT SCALE: 7. We're cookin' now.
May 27, 2014
Texas A&M’s Kevin Sumlin on future games w/Texas: “Eventually I think it will happen"
— Brett McMurphy (@Brett_McMurphy) May 27, 2014
HEAT SCALE: 6.
May 26, 2014
Texas and Texas A&M are playing again! In baseball. Postseason baseball, meaning they had no choice.
HEAT SCALE: 3. Baseball.
April 25, 2014
UT AD Steve Patterson told us ``unless there is a compelling reason,'' the football series between Texas and Texas A&M is dead.
— Paul Finebaum (@finebaum) April 25, 2014
HEAT SCALE: 2. There's no reason in love.
April 1, 2014
Texas AD Steve Patterson: Playing A&M "not at the top of my list."
HEAT SCALE: 3. /Patterson throws Strong into a cold shower
March 7, 2014
New Texas head coach Charlie Strong, sharing his thoughts on resuming the rivalry: "I'd love to play it."
HEAT SCALE: 11. Whoa, take it easy, Charlie. You can't come on so strong, that's just going to creep them out
Nov. 20, 2013
A&M president Loftin: "There's no reason why we shouldn't play each other, if we want to. I think (Texas) will at some point in time feel like it's the right thing to do as well, and we'll get there."
HEAT SCALE: 7.
Nov. 6, 2013
After Texas hires Steve Patterson as AD, Texas A&M senior associate AD Jason Cook says the Aggies are not looking to renew the annual rivalry: "We hope to play them again in a BCS bowl or Playoff game at some point."
HEAT SCALE: 3. "I mean, if we run into 'em at a bar or something and they wanna hook up, we're totally down. But we ain't looking for a long-term thing. Just wanna keep it casual, ya know?"
Sept. 11, 2013
Texas A&M DB Toney Hurd Jr. takes to Twitter, proclaiming, "Texas A&M is the university of Texas." Then-Longhorns head coach Mack Brown responds to the media: "We are the university in this state, regardless of what some kid tweets."
HEAT SCALE: 2. They just can't let each other go, but man, it's getting nasty.
May 31, 2013
Texas A&M president R. Bowen Loftin: "It's not relevant to us anymore, that's the whole point. It's not an important issue."
HEAT SCALE: 3. "Who? Yeah, I think I remember someone by that name."
April 1, 2013
OH MAN THEY'RE GETTING BACK TOGETHER.
HEAT SCALE: 0. Wait. Awww dammit, April Fools' got us again.
March 18, 2013
Texas AD Dodds: "They're the ones that decided not to play us. We get to decide when we play again. I think that's fair."
HEAT SCALE: 6. It's not gonna be that easy, baby.
Jan. 29, 2013
Texas State Rep. Ryan Guillen proposes law forcing A&M and Texas to play.
HEAT SCALE: 0. Will you two give it a rest and get back together already. You're all each other talks about, and we're tired of seeing you like this. Jeez.
Nov. 19, 2012
Texas DE Alex Okafor, in the buildup to the Longhorns' new year-end game against TCU: "I feel sorry for A&M. We still have a big-time game on Thanksgiving. They're missing out."
HEAT SCALE: 8. "OH. OH OK YOU FOUND SOMEONE NEW? WELL WE FOUND SOMEONE NEW TOO AND WE'RE DOING JUST FINE." /Texas quickly puts its arm around the first school it can find, which happens to be TCU
May 30, 2012
Texas A&M and LSU agree to become annual end-of-season rivals.
HEAT SCALE: 6. A&M is moving on with its new life in a new place, but one has to think it's hoping Texas will notice the Aggies' sexy new companion.
Nov. 25, 2011
In the final scheduled meeting, Texas defeats A&M, 27-25, on a game-winning field goal as time expires.
HEAT SCALE: 10. Texas just came over to get that last box of t-shirts and CDs, and of course it turned into a raucous night of love-making, just like the old times. A&M was pretty mad when the Longhorns left an upper-decker before running out laughing, though.
Oct. 15, 2011
Texas AD DeLoss Dodds: "What we have right now is a full schedule."
HEAT SCALE: 1. "I can't on Friday. Saturday's no good, either. Neither is next week. Or next month."
Sept. 26, 2011
Someone creates a "Keep the Texas vs. Texas A&M Rivalry Game Tradition Alive - Drama Free" Facebook page. It garnered only 89 likes and, as we all know, didn't get the pair back together.
HEAT SCALE: 1. This isn't really a spark between the 'Horns and Ags. It's a desperate plea from their friends to give it another shot.
Sadness scale: 10. :-(
Aug. 29, 2011
Report surfaces Texas A&M is set to announce its departure from the Big 12.
HEAT SCALE: 1. It has been a long road together, but after one last big fight over A&M wanting its own space, the Longhorns and Aggies agree that they just don't have anything in common anymore, and it's best to go their separate ways.
Any more?
We'll update this as more of these arrive over time (and they certainly will). Did we miss any from the past?
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