Billy: When I woke up this morning, I had a feeling something terrible was going to happen and also that essentially, deep down, I’m quite an evil person.
Agatha hadn’t been looking for anything. Not love, not romance, definitely not a cocky young chef with ink-stained fingers and a head full of wild ideas about seasonal cooking.
But then there was Rio.
Rio, who had commanded the kitchen at a friend’s dinner party like she was running a Michelin-starred restaurant. Who had set a plate of perfectly charred vegetables in front of Agatha and, without hesitation, said, “I promise you, this will change your life.”
Agatha had lifted an eyebrow. “Bold of you.”
Rio had smirked. “Bold of you to think I’m wrong.”
And then Agatha had taken a bite.
It was embarrassing, really. The way her body betrayed her with the tiniest, softest moan of approval. The way Rio had leaned on the counter, smug as hell, watching her with an expression that practically screamed, Oh yeah, she’s hooked.
And the worst part?
She was.
From that night forward, Agatha kept finding excuses to see her. To drop by the restaurant Rio worked at. To request entirely unnecessary cooking lessons that mostly consisted of Rio standing behind her, hands on her hips, murmuring, “No, my love, softer. Don’t bruise the basil.”
And somehow, between stolen kisses in restaurant turned apartment pantries and late-night conversations about whether soup counted as a meal (“Of course it does, Aggie, don’t be a coward”), they became something real.
Which led them to…
Then
“You can’t wear that.”
Rio, lying sideways on the hotel bed like she had no concept of time or urgency, barely glanced up from her phone. “Why not?”
Agatha stared at her. Then at the sweater. Then back at her.
“Babe.” Agatha exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “This is our first red carpet together. Do you really want to make headlines as ’mismatched lesbian couple stuns at premiere’?”
Rio smirked, finally sitting up. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
Agatha gestured vaguely. “It’s not a bad thing, it’s just” She groaned, walking over and planting herself between Rio’s knees. “I am wearing custom designer couture, and you… you look like the world’s most chaotic Pride float.”
Rio grinned, looping her arms around Agatha’s waist and tugging her closer. “You love that about me.”
“I do,” Agatha admitted, pressing a kiss to her temple. “But I would also love to show you off in a way that doesn’t make me look like a very glamorous sugar daddy.”
“First of all,” Rio leaned back slightly, tilting her head, “if anyone is the sugar daddy here, it’s me.”
Agatha narrowed her eyes. “Oh?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Rio squeezed her waist. “I’m taller than you, I’m a better cook than you, and I give phenomenal back massages. That is peak sugar daddy energy.”
Agatha scoffed. “You are one inch taller than me. And that only counts when we’re standing.”
Rio smirked, leaning in. “I always count it.”
Agatha rolled her eyes, but her hands had already settled on Rio’s shoulders, fingers trailing absently along the fabric of that stupid sweater. She sighed dramatically. “Fine. Wear whatever you want.”
“That’s my girl.” Rio grinned and kissed her, slow and smug, like she’d just won something.
And when they stepped onto the red carpet, Agatha’s nerves briefly flared. She could feel the attention, the whispers, the unspoken questions about their age gap, about the fact that Rio was dressed like she accidentally ended up at a Hollywood premiere.
But then…
“Babe,” Rio murmured out the side of her mouth as they posed for photos. “Do you think people can tell that I’m taller than you?”
Agatha clenched her jaw. “I will step on your foot in these heels.”
Rio bit back a laugh, tightening her arm around Agatha’s waist. “Mmm. I’d like to see you try.”
And just like that, Agatha stopped worrying.
Because at the end of the day, Rio was hers.
And that was all that mattered.
Now
Years later, everything had changed.
Agatha had always been famous. But now Rio was, too.
Her restaurant had taken off. Food competitions had turned into TV appearances. She had become the badass lesbian chef—known for her love of herbs, for her dramatic disdain for bland food, for being the only person on earth who could make Agatha, the Mysterious Hollywood Actress, laugh like a lovesick idiot on live television. While accepting her first lead actress award.
And somewhere in the middle of it all, Agatha had taken her hand and said, “Marry me.”
And Rio had said, “Obviously.”
Which brought them here. Both now getting ready for another event, another red carpet, another night of letting the world stare at them.
“So,” Agatha said, watching Rio in the mirror. “Are you finally embracing the concept of matching?”
Rio, slipping off her jacket, smirked. “Babe, I agreed to wear the designer dress, even with my busted knee. That’s all you’re getting.”
Agatha walked over, looping her arms around Rio’s neck. “Mmm. Not all I’m getting.”
Rio exhaled slowly. “You are so fucking youthful in bed, and I will never argue about it.”
Agatha smirked, leaning in. “Good girl.”
“Take your pants off.”
“No, that’s cheating.” Agatha whispered, leaning in to kiss her, just because she could.
And when they stepped onto the red carpet, Agatha didn’t think about what people whispered about them years ago. Didn’t think about the age gap, or whether Rio had belonged in these spaces.
Because Rio wasn’t just her wife. She was Rio—powerful, chaotic, her own beautiful fucking sex goodness.
And as the cameras flashed, Rio leaned in and murmured, “Do I look mysterious and intriguing, or do I look like I’m just here for the hors d’oeuvres?”
It's not specifically what you ask for, but it's amazing. The chemistry is crackling, Agatha is so done with Rio's attitude but she can't seem to stay away!
Yes i know this one! I recommend that a while ago because its so fucking good !!
Like imagine agatha teasing rio about having no finesse and being so brutal on the ice both in her skating technique and posture but still comes and cheers for her in games (although she really dont get the appeal and violence in it)
i tried to explain how i was feeling like this to my drug counselor and she was like "yeah that still sounds kinda suicidal" and i could not figure out how to explain that i don't wanna die, i just like. am so so so tired of the way life is for me and all my friends and family. i'm tired of living like this but i'm gonna keep doing it bc i guess there's no other choice
Burnout. The word is burnout, but not because of an unusual state of overwork or an overly demanding position, but because the bare minimum being demanded is beyond capacity.
If your tummy itches when you wear jeans, you have a nickel allergy and should paint the back of the buttion with nail polish. Okay I am going into the woods forever now. I love you.
Sensitivity to nickel is extremely common amd despite this, clothing manufacturers often use it because it is cheap. A coat or two of nail polish is an effective barrier between the allergen and your skin. Goodbye forever. Do not forget my wisdom
Reminder that many medical implants use a titanium alloy that includes nickel. If you have to get pins, a joint replacement, anything, ALWAYS ask for a metal allergy test. If you test even mildly positive for anything in the alloy, push HARD for a ceramic coated implant.
Sincerely, a girl who watched her mom became almost completely disabled due to having a knee replacement she was allergic to and no one believed her for YEARS.
turnnoffyourmind
jbbartram-illu
baratheonpilled
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
snowghoul
kianamaiart
stormborns
dededos
