#and my ex therapist wondered why i never said shit

[missmarveledsblog]

I'll show you different ( joel miller x reader) part three

Summary : peaches is met by joel standing like a man completely lost to the world In panic only to reveal his daughters where in his and currently both on their period. She gives him pads he asks for and decided to repay his kindness with making care packages for both girls and spending an afternoon with the millers she would never forget

Warnings: alussion to child abuse and domestic violence but other than that this part is actually more fluffy .

It was such a strange feeling , being happy , having people around her that cared about her . yet it did make her feel guilty to know she was lying to some of them but she knew it was better that way . Maybe if they knew would they thinks of her as weak , her baggage too much they would join the other who whispered like they knew her and lived her life . they didn’t look at her like everyone did either with pity or disgust depending on which side of the coin they were on . They knew one part of her past that was another thing would they think she was an idiot to fall for same tricks she’d seen so many times . Maybe she deserved it all , maybe her ex was right in the fact she was stupid she sure felt it . then she would shake her head repeating what her therapist told her before she came back home . repeating words of affirmation that she didn’t truly believed but hoped one day she would. She kept herself busy more of time doing more to the house keeping the style to some degree but giving her own stamp to the place .

Most of the downstair was done , thanks to her new friends.

That what she was doing when she heard the familiar knock pattern of a miller brother at her door . she padded down the stair to see joel standing awkwardly on her porch .

“ hey everything ok?” her brow furrowed as his cheeks flushed .

“ erm sorry to bother you peach but erm you don’t have some pads or tampons , sarah and ellie came and my luck they both got their periods and we’re not in supply” he scratched back of his neck .

“ oh shit they synced up huh? I got some one second” she smiled letting him as she ran up stairs only return with couple. “ i thought i had more , i’m going into store i’ll pick more up” she said handing him small pack as she put her shoes on grabbing her keys and following him out.

They made small talk in the short walk to her car , he watched as she checked around the car before she got in .

“ why you do that?” he brows furrowed as it came out before he could even think of his words .

“ i lived in new york and got car jacked before god i must seem like a weirdo” she laughed nervously once again hating how she lied but it had to be done.

“ nah shit sorry for asking like that , but just remember peach i’ll keep eyes out make sure your safe” he smiled as she took in his word a little nod of her head as they shared their goodbyes and set off on there own little task .

She rang her grandfather wondering if he knew anything about miller girls like their favorite things to which he did of course he did . as she walked around grabbing care packages one with essentials, pampering to help feel bit better along with the snacks her grandfather told her about , the pads , some heat pads for the cramps. She made sure it was all there for the girls seeing how joel was earlier was probably out of his depth when it came to the time of the month or it was just overwhelming dealing with both teenage girls during a sensitive time. Even it was something small she wanted to help anyways she could since both men where always helping her out with the house. She held the bads in her hand placing them in her trunk then drinking to star bucks getting the coffee orders for tommy and joel and herself and the ones joel eventually told her the girls liked then heading back pulling up to her drive as she got it all in her hands some way heading across the street she found her hands too full leaving her to kick the door lightly but loud enough to hear.

A young girl answered from the picture she knew it was ellie the youngest of the two , who seemed to study the woman before her.

“ hey is your dad here” she asked smiling .

“ you must be peach , you live across the street” she asked arching her brow .

“ one in the very same” peach nodded only for joel to come out. “I come baring gifts”.

“ ellie christ let her in and help her out , what is all this” he asked shocked taking the tray of coffee’s off of her .

“ actually you just need to take this one and the other is for sarah” she handed ellie the navy blue bag.

“ dad was right you really are an angel , shit you even got the good stuff” she smiled brightly.

“ ellie mouth please for love of god” joel groaned. “ how much do i owe you” the two walked into the kitchen for her to see tommy and sarah sitting at dining table.

“ hi it’s nice to finally meet you peach” sarah beamed up at the woman .

“ nice to finally meet you too both of you , also this is for you and to answer your question joel nothing” she handed over the purple bag. “ and you owe me nothing put this in freezer i got vanilla and chocolate and strawberry “ she handed him the tubs of ice cream . “ there sauce and stuff to make sundaes too” she place the other bag on counter as tommy handed her own coffee.

“ wow shit you thought of it all maybe we will survive this brother” tommy chuckled.

“ wow thank you so much “ sarah smiled happily as she looked in the bag.

“ yeah dad’s fucking useless with this shit” ellie waltzed in .

“ sorry i forgot to mention i’m raising a sailor apparently” joel pinched the bridge of his nose.

“ what you get me peach” tommy smirked.

“ coffee and made two teenage girls happy” she rolled her eyes laughing.

“ she got a point the starbuck and bag of goodies makes you bearable” ellie nodded .

“ please stay for dinner dad’s ordering pizza “ sarah pleaded .

“ least I could Do since all this “ joel smiled .

“ I can stay for pizza , If I ever say i hate it somethings Wrong “ she laughed.

The dinner was smoothLy she love the dynamic . How the girls Had Joel in such confusion it had her laughing til she cried Trying to explain it only For him to be more confused . She even bantered back with Tommy's flirtatious comment stunning The man to silence before he caught On and have her a clap and a Bow of his head. this was what Life should of always been like , this right here in that moment she would have burned to her memory. The one thing she would never regret was letting the millers into her life And she hoped they would stay There. This was the life she needed , the one she wished for all her life . One were She Could laugh without care , smile til her cheeks hurt and a warmth that filled her whole body . She could get used to this .

part 4

Taglist : @harriedandharassed

[rosieartsie]

Some vent about the personal project I’m making under the line

So I’ve started doing this personal project called “On the Mountain, Alone” and it’s just a way for me to convene with myself, with my child self and very recently with my teenage self too. My therapist said something very poignant about me going on a journey solo, that I’ve been packing for three, that I’ve been looking backward and anticipating I’m gonna see my ex partners this climb I’m on with me, that I need to pack all this shit to prepare for their return when they’re on a separate mountain and I’m on this one, alone. At first, deciding to make this project felt really good. Hanging out with child me, visualizing being in a beautiful mountain pass around nature, just spending time with little me was really good for me. When I used to visualize her, she was a child in a mall, screaming and crying and lost and people would just pass her by like she isn’t their problem. It was always my job in my mind to pick her up, to hold her tight, to keep her safe. But my therapist told me as good an impulse as that is, children need to explore and laugh and be on their own feet, I have to put her down and let her breathe and calm down. On the mountain, I can, and I’ve made a bunch of art of her playing in water, climbing trees, catching frogs— it’s felt so good to see her be happy and safe, cuz nothing can hurt us on the mountain.

But teenage me has shown up, and I’m so glad she’s here, but it’s hard to help her and love her correctly when I'm in the same place she is in. I'm 14 again, at 32, wondering why I am so difficult to love, why I am easy to abandon, why people see the worst in me, why people who said they loved me can pretend I never existed. For her, it's our parents, it's our first love riding past us in the park after ignoring our heart felt attempts to make up, it's our friends suddenly deciding they hate us and ignoring us at school. For me, it's all those things too, plus the recent things. Being cut off without a second thought, being accused of things I didn't and wouldn't do, being left behind and told I was the source of every problem when I was working and trying and still willing to fight for a love I promised would last forever. I was moving out so that things could return to the dating phase, so we could turn down the insane pressure in our home, so we could prepare to see each other and talk things out without feeling like we were trapped on top of each other. I got told I never had empathy. I got called cruel and petty. I was lied about and lied to, and when it happened I asked myself, why explain, why beg, why negotiate? They've already decided they don't want you. And they didn't. And they don't. They have painted a version of me that is all my worst parts, a person you'd sigh in relief to be away from. So I said okay, and I shut it all off, and I accepted that this experience is a cornerstone of my life and screaming, crying, begging, explaining has never earned me love or grace. Teenage me wants to know why no one understands us. She wants to know why people leave and don't come back and don't miss us, she wants to know if we matter, she wants to know why loving us is something people can throw away without looking back. 6 months ago, I would have told her that our parents and teenage boys are ill equipped to be loving, but we are loved now, we are valued and important, we won't ever have to worry about such things because even if things get hard or bad, the love we have now will find its way back because we've learned how to choose people who really love us. But now, all I can tell her is I don't know, I'm sorry, these things happen, and even if they don't love you, I do, so, so, so much. You are not difficult to love, I don't know why this happens. We lay in the rain. We climb up to high places. We cry and I hold her for as long as she needs. The art is physically painful to create and dappled with my tears. I don't know what to tell myself to heal a thing that was broken when I was 14, was at the root of so many of my romantic and platonic choices, and that now, double that time and some change later, I am here again when I never imagined I would be. I know I need to keep doing this work… but I'm not sure what waits on the otherside of all of this. I guess I just have to keep going, up the mountain, alone.

[nerves-nebula]

"And don't worry about me taking care of myself, this is probably what I'd spend all my time doing if I didn't have work/classes. this is FUN for me."

Okay, mood though? I joke about the shit I've been through so much, like, I will say the most ass backwards shit to them in joke form a bout how me and my now ex best freind BOTH had every single one of our male friends targeted by a mutual now ex friend who literally raped them. Said via the form of a barbie meme. And I'll just be "hehehe that was fucked up" and they all "OMG, I'm so sorry that happened!" No!! Laugh with me!! If I think to hard I'll disassociate out of existence so help.me laugh at it!!!!!

Wow I got off topic quick ga'damn. ANYWAY.

talking about truama is, amusing. It's like, "cathartic" and shit. AND!!!!!! TALKING ABOUT TRUAMA IN A LIGHTHEARTED WAY IT ACTUALLY PART OF THE PTSD RECOVERY PROCESS!!! not demeaning or invalidating but it makes it less likely for thinking about your truama, and subsequently your flashbacks to be as devastating, if u attach more light hearted memories to the memory bank of recollecting trauma.

I think I explained that bad but my therapist said it literally on Friday lmao.

Like, if EVERYTIME u think of your trauma, you break down, it will just get a bigger and bigger psychological response out of you. So, joking about it is genuinely good for you sanity as long as you also acknowledge that they're the horrors of your mind.

Wow why am I speaking the way that I am.

Fuck I rambled in ur inbox again. Bye!

I wonder if u can tell what asks belong to the same people. U can ignore this

"OMG, I'm so sorry that happened!" No!! Laugh with me!! If I think to hard I'll disassociate out of existence so help.me laugh at it!!!!!

no literally. i wanna send ppl funny jokes/memes about the shit that happened to me & my siblings but my gf gets SO SAD half the time if i mention anything too specific. like girl! I'm not even that sad about it!!

and like its not JUST jokes either, I love writing stories that take incest seriously cause I feel like incest is one of those taboo things where it's almost never given the complexity it deserves. Even when it's taken seriously is just seen as a Bad Thing that happens sometimes and the effects aren't really shown or delved into past general ptsd symptoms. that or its just for shock value, or the author gets squeamish and just stops talking about it, or the victims don't display "gross" or "uncomfortable" symptoms and it's like!!! I'm over it!! that shit fucks you up, and it doesn't make you BROKEN but I think it would have helped me a lot to have seen depictions of kids with the same intrusive thoughts and upsetting sexual side-effects!!! AIHGAUHGAHUAG!!

anywho. I can't really tell which asks belong to different people, no. sometimes I can kind of tell two asks might not be made by the same person, if i compare them side by side, but otherwise? eh.

im not very good at picking up on different tones through writing (and i use text to speech to read a lot of these too, so i'm hearing them all in one robotic voice)

[nfumbewalk]

Hmm.

Here is a nice altar picture, though I blocked the sigils drawn on the candles. No one's business but my client.

Don't know what to think...lost a follower. Oh well! I move on. Gen X'er types like me don't really give a shit. 😂 One candle is white, one is yellow

Things are so great on the magic & muerto fronts! My magic with Rodolfo is spot on with our client. She asked for longer work because she loves the energy she's getting! Nice. I'm using 7 candles & 6 glasses of water and the power is so strong. When alone, I generally use 3 glasses of water & 4 candles, but more if using a circle spread.

The ones pictured here are in a semi-triangular form, though it's hard to see from the photo. When triangles are used, it signifies "putting the muertos to work." I learned this from a book on espiritismo. A good one! One that I read recently, "Mesa Blanca" Is a recent shit book!! Anyhoo! Good thing it was Kindle Unlimited! This has saved me tons of money!!

Some may wonder why water and so much of it, and the same with the candles? The water quenches the spiritual thirst of the muertos, it helps their desires become clear, and also gives them enough emotional fortitude to stay and visit. The flames give them life energy and sustenance for as long as they can visit. No one knows about this, because I've received this from the muertos from channeling as I write.

I'm going to drop some info to my therapist. He's very, very interested. I was thinking the other day - ppl seem into necromancy these days, but in the occult field, NO one is REALLY doing the REAL thing! Yeah - talk to the muertos & it *may* work - your planchette on your Ouija may move. But does a solid muerto walk behind you and whisper "Howdy," in your ear, while feeling his hot breath? Or scratch at the bathroom door trying to rouse you for attention? My muerto is well behaved. Some may not be.

I'm getting more ideas for my book and I'm jotting things down. It's going to be an almost massive feat to get my book going but...my husband just started updating his freaking *sweet* laptop for me!! Woot! 😁 It's not brand new but it was only lightly used & it's a ThinkPad! 💖 Love those since I had a 286 or 386 version back in the 90's! Now I'll have a legit word processor. Cool!

So, ppl probably wonder why ppl like me love muertos. Hard to explain, really. It can get spooky at times, but not for me. I'm not scared of any muerto. I've encountered Rodolfo's muerto friends.

And a ton of other muertos! When you're as psychic as me, you get used to this stuff eventually. Ppl get super interested when I mention my close touches with death & Santa Muerte. Just two life changing events, but very serious and REAL af! Both experiences changed me.

And my traumatic jail experience as well. 2 weeks is enough! One reason for my therapy visits. I lost a very thick head of hair - now I have very thin, long hair. It didn't grow back like it did after the 2 week coma. Yes, it's 2 weeks with me for some strange fucking reason. 🤷 A hair dresser told me that with trauma, the hair takes a rest. Then when things are no longer a threat, the hair resumes growth. Then you shed hair. It's supposed to come back. After jail, it fell out & never resumed. Sooo...very rarely, I wear my hair down. It's embarrassing.

Welp, that's exposing myself! Oh, I don't care! Might as well be honest because I expect honesty back from others. I despise liars. Like one of my favorite musicians, Johnny Rotten (John Lydon). He had a song about liars. I agree with him. He's an ex-pat Republican. Love him. 💖 Some hate him. Don't care! Music? I'll say: The longest is:

The Rolling Stones, don't even touch their ancient asses! I was raised, fed, and indoctrinated with The Stones since I was born. I know just about everything about the band history. Stones geek. My favorite Stone is Keith Richards (or Richard, in the early 60's). Fuck the Beatles. My mom said the Stones were "dirty and uncouth" and ppl didn't agree with their image & sex appeal. She loved them because of this and her pen pal in England sent her lots of clippings from the papers and magazines about the Stones.

I love: Sisters of Mercy, Joy Division, The Damned, Siouxsie & the Banshees, PiL (Public Image Limited), Southern Death Cult/Death Cult/The Cult, Bauhaus, Peter Murphy, Tones on Tail, Love & Rockets & lots of 90's gothic & industrial like Switchblade Symphony, London After Midnight, Corpus Delicti, Sunshine Blind, Voodoo Church, NIN, Frontline Assembly, Crystal Method & Chemical Brothers. :wumpscut: too, but they're a bit later.

How the fuck did I get on this topic? Hell knows!

Need to talk more necro!

So it goes! 💖💀💖

[sickkiller]

kinda vent or smth (lowkey long)

I KEEP MAKING MISTAKES BRO. Why cant i think for one second amd stop doing things that just pop into my brain. Idk anymore im so angry at myself why cant i think like a normal person, why cant i think before i do things.

It seems like i do everything just to impress other people and never take my feelings into account like ive gotten into so many weird situations where if i just said no i would be good BUT OF COURSE I CANT BECAUSE WHY WOULD I ACTUALLY LISTEN TO MY BRAIN.

its getting so tiring, why cant i just be normal and say what i want to and idk anymore. Every single time after i make a decision i always end up regreting it in some way like why cant i just make good decisions and not regret them. Like when i broke up with my bf a week ago, i regret it idk why i said what i did but idk how to fix it now cause he hates me and i know that. If i just thought about myself for once and not everyone else i wouldnt be stuck in the pickle im stuck in right now. I actually like him a lot but i was so scared of what my friends were gonna say when i told them its long distance and also the fact that ive been talking with my friend kinda flirty and idk if were a thing or not. Relationships are weird, emotions are even weirder. I hate all of this, i wish i could just sit in my room playing music all day. Instead i go out and make stupid unfixable mistakes thatll take so long to even try to explain. Why cant i just think for myself and not care what other people think, i mean i do that with my looks maybe im not the most alt person youve ever scene (haha funny joke, pls laugh) but im def not basic by any means.

Dont worry thats not where my problems end, i also cant open up to anyone. Like, i know people are gonna read this but it feels much less private and personal than a one on one conversation. Geniuanly it is so hard for me to talk about my feelings so that might be why ive never been to therapy, the therapist would get literally nothing out of me. I feel like it shouldn't be this hard to open up, but like.. it is. My ex said that he didnt understand how people cant talk about their feelings to their partners but like i never told him about that one thing, that one thight that always bothered me. I wonder what he thinka that was, i mean i could be literally anything.. i just hope he doesnt think that it was the fact that i was gonna break up with him, cause its not that. Well idk anything anymore, one day i think i understand myself and than the next day everything crumbles and i feel like a smear of shit on the sidewalk.

Some people say that noone will understand them better than they understand themselves, i wish that was me. I cant get my mind clear for even a second, every second its like a whole train passes my brain and it just keeps doing laps and laps and the loop never ends. It feels like one day im just gonna snap and let all of this out on the wrong person and i dont want that to happened. I care for the people that are near me very much but i always distance myself so i dont say something stupid and i always fucking fail. No matter how much thought i put into a message, im still gonna regret sending it. I cant live like this anymore but i also dont want to end things if that even makes sense. Why cant i just be normal, I have people that love me but it all feels like a little show. It always feels like im not in control of what i say, like its a script or smth. Feels very weird to say that since its not real or anything but sometimes it just feels like that.

I wish i could open up to people and just tell them what i think but even then i never say the truth. The few times i actually told anyone about my feelings i never said the whole truth. I have no idea why im hiding it like that, its like if anyone knows it is just gonna automaticaly hate me and never want to speak with me again.

I dont know what to do anymore, I need help. Im stuck in my head all day long with so many thoughts, its so overwhelming. Im just so tired of everything even tho my problems arent nearly big enough to have thoughts like this. I mean i know its not a competition or anything but so many people have it so much worse than me. Its not right for me to be so sad and stuff about these things, cause like i have a good life other than that.

I keep thinking about him, why did i say what i did. I wont tell him how i feel right now because he hates me and i know that. Ive started to be more active on the server but that doesnt make anything better, i keep making jokes that dig me deeper and deeper into this hole im stuck in now. I feel like all of them hate me, I feel like i need new friends every week cause i fuck things up so fast. I know that this is all my fault but i just cant stop it, its like i dont have control of what i say. Its so shit to feel like this but i also cant talk about it to anyone cause maybe ill say something weird and it makes them question all the fun moments weve had together. I wish my brain was clearer, life would be so much easier if that was the case. If i never met them, i wouldnt be here,, writing this. Maybe i should just separate myself from them. Stop texting in the groupchat and take some days to think, but that might also be a bad idea cause what if they think i hate them. I dont, i promise they mean the world to me. Weve gotten so close over like 3 weeks, its crazy, i dont want to lose them over something like this.

[dearyallfrommatt]

A hole that's never to be filled.

A friend of mine's dog is dying. He and his husband are having his wiener dog put down later today as his advanced age has made his many infirmities too much to bear. It happens.

I've known this guy on the internet for as long as Waf's been in the picture. We knew each other way back in the days when blogs were the place to be an absolute asshole to people who can't slap you. Liberal politics, but we had a good bit in common. Two weirdos from the worst the rural South had to offer in the '80s.

The way my friend talks, as much as a square peg I was, his was way worse on account of being gay and I can't argue with him. He's pulled a full-on Thomas Wolfe and lives with his husband in the Big Apple. What love I have for my little village's corner of the world I do not push on him nor does he pull.

I wish I had something better to say to him. Otis was probably the last thing that kept me hanging on. He died and I quit writing my news blog, I quit messing around with harmonicas or paying attention to music, and I really quit giving too much of a shit about what previously grabbed my attention.

Namely, politics and video games. Video games became mere background noise like bad movies and Lovecraft pastiches of dubious quality, so that's a story for another time. Once I get my head wrapped around it, I'll get back to you.

As for politics, well, I'm just tired. We've had a microscope on the American Political Machine - including the media, all media, that coves said machine - and I really don't think we've learned a single thing. Not about how the government works or what the media is even supposed to be, nothing. I hate to be almost cliched, but look who's running for president come November and ponder the important issues of the day, and tell me we - as a culture, as a people, as a nation - have learned a goddamn thing.

But so much for all that. The end came and for once in my life, I didn't try to grind it out until it started to work. No one read my news blog except for my brother for news about Mississippi and my ex whenever Facebook reminded her. I never received one response and none of my visitors were able to convince me they weren't digital ephemera.

Maybe losing Otis gave me an excuse. I quit the gym not long after because I wasn't able to make myself go. I quit talking to both my therapist and the pysch doc because I'm tired of talking to people, especially about my general depression and the specific disinclination to hang around longer than necessary. Hell, it was around this time my teeth passed the point of no return. Keep up your orthodontal health, brethren.

The therapist asked me to come up with three reasons to stay in this world and I could only come up with Momma and Otis. The dog, of course, is easy. I took him on a responsibility and never found anyone better to take over the job. As for Momma, well, as rough as her life has been - and rougher than it needed to be for anyone and for no good reason - I figure she didn't need to spend her declining years wondering why her eldest son and favored child couldn't stay in this life anymore and what she did to cause it. It ain't her fault, but you know how mommas are.

But that's all I've got. It's recently occurred to me that my lifelong restlessness - always stymied by my fathomless laziness - is because I've never really had any ambition or goals or, really, dreams. The whole writing thing is partly ego and mostly because it's the first thing I ever did that someone told me, "Damn, Matt, that's really good." Otherwise, man, I just like to read and thought it'd be an easy gig.

Called that one wrong. Pay attention to your Uncle Matt, kids. Always remember that no matter what you do, the bills have to be paid and they never stop. Just something to consider.

But these days? It occurred to me that I have the perfect set-up. Someone's paying my bills and I am finally free to do... what? If there was something I wanted to do, I'd be doing it. If there was somewhere I wanted to be, I'd be there. If there was someone I wanted to be with, I'd be with them.

There isn't. There aren't any stories I want to tell, either, and since there's nowhere I want to go and no one I want to talk to - and I don't want to talk to anyone about anything anyway - I'm not getting any stories to tell. I really should sit Momma down and make her tell me the History of Peaceful Valley (According to Mr. & Mrs. C. B---). If nothing else, it'd be colorful and with her, it's gone forever.

But I just don't care. I don't care what I eat for supper tonight. The next book, the next game, the next movie, the next documentary, the next bowl, it's all static to drown out the dark voices in my head. I don't care what my brother does with the current jigsaw puzzle of his life. I trust him, he's smarter than me, and he'll do the right thing for him, so luckily, I don't have to care.

I care about making Momma happy and basically, all I have to do there is be pleasant and unproblematic. That's a chore in itself, I don't know if I could manage much else. I guess I should count my blessings that no one is asking anything out of me. It's lonely but I'm used to lonesome.

[raspberryconverse]

I think my sister might be mad at me.

Yesterday was her birthday and I texted her to wish her a happy birthday and didn't get a response. Yeah, she might have been busy, but there also might be more to it than that.

Last year she got a new car (mainly because her boyfriend's ancient dog either barfed or shit in her car and they couldn't get the smell out, though she was already planning on replacing it the next year) and posted all about it on Facebook. Which is fine. I posted about my new car when I got it too.

But then a week or two later, I talked to our dad and he asked me if she told me he cosigned on a car for her.

Obvs, she didn't mention that on Facebook (because it's definitely not anyone's business), but yeah, I had no idea. And I knew this was going to be a bad idea.

So when I was in high school and lived with our dad, our mom's car died and she needed to get a new one. She called my dad from the dealership and asked him to cosign for her. Her ex husband. What I didn't realize what that her credit was so bad, she couldn't even get a loan with a cosigner. My dad had to take the loan out in his name. He never told me this was the case (and my mom never admit it) until years later.

My mom, being my mom, only made a few payments on the car before she stopped. And since the loan was in my dad's name, he had to pay it or it'd fuck up his credit.

I had really hoped my sister wouldn't do that to my dad, but we found out at Christmas that she did. My dad had gotten us a $300 gift card to Menard's and Spouse and I said, "Dad, that's too much!" to which he responded, "Well, I've been helping [sister] with her car payments, so..."

Spouse and I were really pissed. Spouse never met my mom, but has heard the fucked up stories from my childhood (they had similar experiences with their mom, but not on the level that I did), so they were equally concerned. Plus they're friends with my sister on Facebook, so they see all the "Look what I got" and annual Disney trip posts from her (yes, they go to Disney almost every year and usually do another vacation with just the 2 of them as well).

My sister's excuses were that her dog needed a dental and had half his teeth removed and that the ancient dog died.

Now, the dental thing I kinda understand because Lola needs one and I had been putting it off because of the cost (I think they quoted me $2500), but Spouse and I decided to take out a Care Credit card to pay for it. We wondered why my sister didn't do the same, though she might not have had good enough credit to do it.

The ancient dog thing was a bunch of bullshit. See, her boyfriend (who she's been with close to 10 years at this point) and his ex wife share custody of their son and the ancient dog. Ex wife is remarried to some sort of finance guy who works at a national bank and has since had 3 more kids with him. They're not hurting for money. But the dog was not actually my sister's and therefore not her responsibility. The cost of his end of life expenses was not on her at all. Half of it was on her boyfriend. Sure, they share living expenses (and he's a teacher, so I get that he doesn't have a huge salary), but I don't think she really had to personally contribute to the dog's expenses. She did buy a bunch of memorial shit for the dog, though (pillows, blankets, ornaments, etc).

Spouse and I really wanted to rip her a new one about this, but I talked to my therapist about it and she said to talk to my dad first. And I do think he agreed that he needs to be more firm with her, even though he's a pushover. I expressed my concern. I gave him some suggestions to get her to get her shit together so she can make her payments (offer budgeting help, suggest she do what I do and have money for the car payment deposited in a separate account she doesn't look at and put it on auto pay so she doesn't have the think about it). He seemed receptive to the idea. I just hope he follows through. I'll have to check in on him and see how the conversation went (or if it even happened).

I will be the first to admit I'm not the greatest with money (which is why I don't have $2500 in savings to pay for Lola's dental, partially because I spent $800 on her ass over a year ago and that depleted it quite a bit, plus am still paying off the 20% of my surgery that my insurance didn't cover). But I'm trying. I don't think my sister is trying, though. She's being like our mom, buying things to keep up appearances and not thinking about important things like her car payment. She got the attitude from our mom that if she can't take care of it, she can find someone who will. And that's not ok. Especially because my dad doesn't make a ton of money either. He really can't afford to be paying my sister's car payment each month. There's a reason why he bought an older van with high mileage. He didn't want to be spending a lot on a car payment. And now my sister is trying to get him to do that for her and it's just not ok.

At least my dad agreed that he has to do something. I just hope he has the balls to do it, because he's normally not that kind of guy.

[whompingwillowsworld]

Every once in a while I'll think about the good times with my ex fiance and how he had a legitimate relationship with my family members unlike the man I married.

I was just thinking about a time where he bought new flip flops and left them by the front door and my sister came out with her dogs for their morning potty time and she said "oh, I see I have new flip flops" because him and my sister wore the same size shoe and she always slipped them on to run outside and it just... it's a weird fucking feeling to let myself mourn losing those moments... I wasn't allowed to do that the last almost 5 years, not out loud at least.

There is one singular post on his old, long abandoned tumblr with a tag, my tag he used for me and when things were at their absolute worst in my marriage and I'd start having suicidal thoughts again I'd go look at it and then cry myself to sleep. I don't know that I'll ever understand why I did it... maybe as a reminder that I was loved then, and I'd be loved again. Maybe I should ask my therapist to help me sort through that... but I felt less alone just seeing that word.... "sweetheart" under the post. Like a glimmer of hope that even after all the fucked up shit we went through and did to each other that he was out in the world still thinking I was worthy of being loved and found a way to still love me. I've never admitted that to anyone, and maybe it should have stayed that way, but keeping quiet has proved to just send me deeper into a spiral, and I don't really have anything left to lose.

There was genuine love and good times no matter how hard it is to admit. I believe in my soul that he loved me and my family but it was so fucking abusive and toxic that I couldn't live the rest of my life wondering when breaking doors and verbal abuse would escalate to physical violence. In another lifetime, maybe we could have made it work, but I took the "easy" way out and jumped right into another toxic relationship with someone who never loved or respected me.... and I married him. 🤦‍♀️ Afterall people don't abandon those they love, they abandon those that they're using.

I think maybe being alone is the answer right now. I think maybe it always has been... I hope not forever because I'd really like to have a life partner. I'd really like to be with someone who sees what I bring to the table, who genuinely cares when they see me distraught, who is kind, has patience, has emotional intelligence, and can say "We'll figure this out together" and it be the truth.

I deserve it, and I want it for myself so badly. Universe, please let me have that.

[elliebear666]

Started feeling kinda paranoid lately. I think it's due to stress. I feel like somehow my blog is being like... broadcasted to tons of people, including Dr. Fox, YouTube channel clinical psychologist.

I swear I feel like bro is making videos that mirror my shit and I get paranoid lol. But uh... pretty sure that's not happening and I'm just stressed out.

Tbh I guess... I've been dealing with paranoia for a while. In more like, "They're not being honest and they're being nice to get things from me," type ways. I have had auditory hallucinations w FEW times. But it's always when I'm stressed. I didn't feel I was manic or anything. And um... idk. I was hyper paranoid a while ago, thinking everyone in town was watching me and plotting against me, to kill me or send me away or whatever. I saw a black and a white car parked together and said to myself, "Oh boy. They know. I wonder if they're going to nab me and put me in one of the care." Just crazy shit I guess.

I haven't listed all the ways in which BPD symptoms have affected me since teen years and especially young adult and beyond. I wish Dr. Fox could be like, "Here's what's up. Sorry I can't treat you cuz like you live in a different state. But like you should do this to improve."

I suppose one of the most frustrating aspects is that I have been in therapy for like 10 years and I still have BPD issues.

I mean, I think my psychiatrist and therapist are right? I mean, I've pathologically expressed BPD traits since even before adulthood. And eventually was exhibiting all 9 traits.

I guess part of the thing too is... I do have unrealistic expectations of having my needs met. Because I guess? I have a lot of needs... I'm needy. And clingy. And when I inevitably fail? I spiral like a crazy person. I like... did awful shit to my ex. I split on her and said evil shit and I hate myself for what I did.

I wonder what the difference between moderate and severe BPD is tho. Like... my issues were so bad someone had to get the law involved because I was stalking them... which is absolutely valid. I'm working on being better and atoning. But um... I feel like I may have been moderate at one point, you know? But I feel like I progressed to severe. It was bad. Splitting, rage outbursts, risky behavior, constant freakouts, extreme emotional reactions to almost everything all the time, frantic efforts to avoid abandonment and spiraling to insanity and speeding and risky, dangerous behavior anytime I felt rejected or abandoned. Hurting myself all the time. Severe dissociation that has caused lapses in memory for years. Anger and rage that destroyed friendships and relationships and hurt family. Constant and overwhelming feelings of emptiness. Never knowing who I am and my identity shifting like the tides. Splitting and intense and obsessive relationships filled with fights and instability. Threatening suicide all the time. Being constantly suicidal. I got do in debt from impulsive spending that I... I had to take care if it but I was ruining my life. All this shit and more.

I feel like it was severe. I mean, it felt severe, right? It destroyed my life. Sometimes I wonder if I even have bipolar disorder at all and if it wasn't just BPD. But I'm pretty sure I do have bipolar disorder because the meds help to a degree.

But I still have had really bad BPD symptoms even on meds. But the amount that I've improved? It is astronomical. It is a massive change. I was doing therapy twice a week, and every other day at first I believe. I had no self and tried on every disorder in the book because I didn't want to have BPD tbh. I tried to convince myself I was evil because then I wouldn't feel bad and myself for what I'd done and my therapist and psychiatrist were like... "What's wrong with this diagnosis? Why is it so hard to accept?" And I was like... if I accept it, then I actually have to work on myself and problems. I can't keep lying to clinicians lmao. And... I was scared and ashamed and full of self hatred. Y'all should have seen me the first year or so with my new therapist. It was a fucking MADHOUSE. I got paranoid about her, thought she was involved in some great conspiracy against me, every crazy, paranoid, delusional thought? She became a favorite person and I'd split on her constantly. I threatened her and said I hated her and had to fight my mind's desire to lash out her or stalk her. I learned everything I could about her online... I was acting like a fucking psycho lmao. The level of unhinged shit I sent her in text? Constant all day every day.

So.... idk. I lied to my first therapist literally all the time. I don't even know why. I never told her about the severity of my real issues. I lied and lied and acted cool and fine, but eventually, as she peeled back the layers, she saw my emptiness and the void and my constant instability and rage and pain. I just... I was so guilty and ashamed and just... I didn't want anyone to know what was going on. I barely talked about abuse. I never mentioned being molested and all the horrific shit that happened.

So my BPD fucking... metastasized. I grew and spread and soon I was just a fucking disaster of a human being.

Idk.

I wish sometimes that I could have help from someone like Dr. Fox. But... again. Different state. My psychiatrist and therapist are helping immensely. But... idk.

Fuck

[smallfishsmallpond]

Wind down work day 

I feel like every year around this time of the season I start feeling a little nostalgic. I had an ex boyfriend who died tragically in a car accident. I mean his head was literally separated from his body. It was horrific. But for some reason he’s been on my mind heavy lately and I honestly don’t know why. I don’t think of him often. Well I try not to. My husband gets crusty when his name even gets brought up, which is a whole problem in and of itself but one baby step at a time. My ex boyfriend James was a wonderful and goofy person. He was my best friend before we ever even started dating. I mean he was really my everything for a long time. He was there during one of the hardest times in my life. We got together when I was 15 and he was 18. And no he didn’t groom me it wasn’t anything weird. We went to the same high school and had all of the same friends. And I really was mature for my age. I know a lot of people say that but in my case it’s true. I didn’t exactly have the best childhood, I had to grow up fast in order to protect my brother and myself from the things that our parents were involved with…… oh shit I got off topic.

Anyway James was a very misunderstood person, but I got him. And he got me. He saw me at my worst and he chose to love me any way. I have always felt shitty because I really think I broke him. I was a shitty person back in the day. I mean really shitty. I lied, cheated, stole, really just everything I could. I partied too much. For 2 years all I did was get fucked up on triple c’s and liquor then drive around and wreck peoples shit. But I was the worst to him. He was obsessed with me and I knew that. I think I enjoyed taking advantage of his love. A therapist would say some shit like “You took advantage of his love and kindness because you never got the affection and support that you needed as a child” blah blah blah blah. Maybe there’s some truth in that but really I was just a shitty person and there’s no one else to blame for that but myself. I’m good at chasing people away and with him. No matter how hard I tried, he never left. After he died I didn’t realize how much I actually took him for granted. After highschool I broke it off with him and got with the first guy that could get me out of the town I grew up in. I barely knew the guy and I moved 2 hours a way into his apartment. I had no job and no car. I was stuck in that apartment trying to force a relationship with someone who was still in love with their ex who just so happened to look just like me. (Plot twist me and her are actually friends now but that’s a whole other story) I was bored and unhappy. So you know who I called? Yeah James, I called and he was always there. He would drive 2 hours to come and get me while my ex was at work and he would take me out and then bring me back whenever I wanted. Like I said I took advantage of him often. Don’t get me wrong, I really did love him. We shared some really great times and I was there for him just like he was for me and he also did fucked up shit to me too but….. anyway. After I ended the relationship James helped me pack my stuff and he got me out of there and moved me into a house with himself and his two roommates. Alex and Liza (they were married) they were some nasty, lazy dirty ass people. But anyway. This was the first time we had actually lived together officially and honestly it was a lot of fun. We did drugs together, drank a lot, got a dog, had amazing sex. I mean it felt like a fairytale…. At least at the time for me it felt like a fairy tale. But in reality we were slowly becoming unrecognizable. I would look in the mirror and not recognize myself. And I was also starting to realize that with me James life would be ruined because I was destroying both of us. I was becoming just like my parents and I couldn’t stand it.

I still didn’t have a job and the roommates were starting to get pissed off because I wasn’t paying rent. Understandably. So I went out and got a serving job at a Mexican restaurant. At the time James and I started doing harder drugs (speed) which was what ruined my parents. After a few weeks I couldn’t stand who I was or who James and I were together. So I quit…. I quit the drugs, I even cut back on drinking. And once I stopped I noticed that my relationship with James was hanging on by the memory of what we were like when we were teenagers. And that just wasn’t working anymore. He also didn’t stop doing the drugs. I don’t know when, or why, but I just couldn’t even stand to be around him anymore. So I gave him a choice. Me or the drugs. Let’s just say I didn’t win that battle.

When I got the job at the restaurant I met an amazing man who swept me off of my feet. Tall, handsome, and Hispanic. Oooou baby he was just fine af. So of course we started talking a little bit more and I would sneak away from the house to hangout with him outside of work. It was fun, it was new, it was everything I felt like I needed. So whilst living in the house with James and the roommates I broke up with James and started sleeping on the couch. I had no where else to go and James continued doing drugs. He begged me to take him back I mean he even bought me a ring to prove how serious he was. But he still wouldn’t stop the one thing I really needed him too. So the guy I was seeing at the restaurant started renting a house so I could move out and stay with him. Needless to say we started dating and I moved in with him after only 3 months of knowing him. Yeah I was a serial dater hopping from one man to the other. But I knew this time was going to be different.

No matter what I did James still wouldn’t let go. Constant calls, texts, even emails. He even went out of his was to start hanging out at my mom and dad’s house which was inappropriate in and of itself. It really crossed the line when I took my dad out for his birthday and he informed me that James was helping him get drugs….. I met up with James shortly afterwards and beat the shit out of him in a public park. Because honestly how dare he do that. He knew what I went through with my parents and he was contributing to every thing that broke me as a kid. It broke my heart. So I continued to watch him destroy his life from afar for a few months after that. The calls got less frequent, but his behavior just got worse and worse. Which he told me without me he had nothing else to live for and that drugs were the only thing that made it better…….. I don’t know. Well one day I get a call from an unknown number and I answered it. It was James. He got locked out of his moms house and was wondering if I still had a key. Which I did, so I decided to ride down there and open the door for him and also to give his key back. We sat outside and smoked a few cigarettes and talked about our lives and he told me that he was getting better and was about to start a new job in a different state. I was proud of him. I was happy for him, he seemed better. He seemed happy. And he was starting to see this girl who was making him happy. I was over the moon for him. That’s all I wanted for him. Was to just be happy and satisfied in himself and with his life. Once he started talking about how much he missed me and how I should be with someone of my kind (he meant i should be with a black man because I’m mixed blah blah. It was kind of this inside joke that we had from years and years ago) l had to leave. I didn’t want to give him the opportunity to completely ruin the frame of mind he was in. As I was pulling out of the driveway I told him “just remember James, not a whole lot of people like soul food, but almost everyone loves Mexican food.” Then I blew him a kiss and drove away.

Two weeks later on my way to work I received a phone call from James’ mother telling me that he had been in a terrible car accident. He had been drinking and it was Memorial Day weekend. It had been raining. He lost control of the vehicle. Him and the girl that was with him were ejected from the car. She lived, barely. But he didn’t.

It broke me. I have never felt pain like that and sense it’s happened I don’t think I’ve ever felt that bad sense.

I have always felt in some way responsible which is something I’ve had to work on for the last few years. I miss him. He was 22 when he died I am now 23 about to be 24. I feel guilty that I get to keep on living and he’s just gone. Because it easily could’ve been me in that car with him. But I got to experience healthy unconditional love and I got to find myself. He’ll never get that. It makes me sick to my stomach thinking about it.

I guess the moral of this story is the cliche “you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.” Honestly that is so true. So just remember sometimes you do have to do things to make yourself happy. But also never take people for granted. And also don’t hold onto the past. It just makes for a miserable future.

[kwowze]

i love the confirmation over "i assumed you did better even without evidence so i never cared as much"

and even then i felt fucking terrible, tried to kill myself but i guess it's okay because i did better Once™

[rozcdust]

Waste it on me

Angst route

Pairing: Takeomi Akashi x f!reader

Genre: Crack, SMAU

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Canon divergent, profanity, ooc, sugar daddy/ sugar baby relationship, age gap (both are consenting adults), suggestive, everyone is dumb

pt. 1 | previous | pt. 28 A | next | playlist| backstory | crack route

Taiju did the rational thing, even if he had to drag you out of the house kicking and scratching like a feral cat, awkwardly smiling and waving at a freaked-out neighbour in the process with a grown woman screaming bloody murder on his shoulder.

He called up the last therapist you shamelessly ghosted, told her ‘Ayo, she’s fucked’ and hauled your ass straight to her office, leaving only when he was sure you were inside with no way to escape.

Bastard.

“Y/n, pleased to see you again.” The therapist smiled, nodding at you to sit down on the sofa.

“‘Sup, doc?” Nodding stoically, you plop yourself down on the sofa, legs sticking over the armrest as you wiggle in place, getting comfortable.

“I’m good. By what Taiju told me, you haven’t been too good yourself.”

“He’s been snitching on me?”

“Not exactly. Just told me you’d need a talk.”

You let out an exhausted sigh, rubbing your face with your palms to soothe your nerves.

It’s been a while since you’ve been here, and you hated having to come back, even if you knew it did you well.

You liked your therapist, she was relaxed, sometimes cussing, something sharing your rage about your parents.

She was a good therapist.

“So, y/n,” The therapist tapped her pen against the paper laid out on her lap, pushing the glasses higher up on her nose, “Tell me, what has been bothering you?”

You let out a small huff, pondering how to word where your frustrations lay correctly, accurately, without sounding like a colossal asshole.

“I got into a fight with my not-partner-but-partner and best friend and said some horrible shit?”

“Why does that sound like a question?” The therapist tilted her head, shortly writing something in her notebook.

“They started it,” You huffed, crossing your arms, “Both of them got pissy at me out of nowhere and then I snapped.”

“I see. Would you mind telling me about the fights?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, suddenly dying for a cigarette, and proceeding the tale with a deep breath, recounted the events of those two evenings.

Your therapist only kept nodding, never interrupting you, jotting down brief notes in her notebook periodically.

“Okay,” The therapist took a deep breath, glancing down at her notebook as if she were carefully crafting what to say next, “So, clearly, a lot has happened at once, and also, a person you idolise has been mentioned to you in a bad context, which would be rough for anyone.”

“I don’t idolise Shi,” You groaned, frowning, “He has plenty of flaws, like, an abundance, sure, but he was a good man.”

“You may not idolise him on a conscious level, but subconsciously, he was your saviour. It is no wonder you got angry.”

“Okay, yeah, sure doc, whatever you say.”

She tapped her notebook, her cheek pressing into her palm, deep in thought.

A beat passed where no one spoke.

“How about you apologise to them first? Both your partner and Hakkai?”

What the fuck.

You shot up from your position on the sofa, eyes wide, staring at her fully baffled.

“Ex-fucking-cuse me?”

“Hey, just hear me out,” Your therapist raised her arms up in defence, “You want to salvage those relationships, correct? They may have started it, but you also said some nasty shit. If you apologise first, best case, they accept it and you both move on. Worst case, they don’t accept, you move on and they feel guilty. It’s a win-win.”

You blinked.

“Doc, are you suggesting I manipulate people?”

“No.”

You narrowed your eyes at her.

“Yes.”

You let out a small huff of laughter, falling back down on the sofa.

“Interesting advice, I have to admit,” Chuckling, you stare at the ceiling for a few seconds, trying to find a fault in the perfect white paint, “I’m still so angry.”

“I can tell.” The therapist nodded, motioning for you to continue.

“I’m still so angry at my parents, and angry at Shi for fucking leaving me, and angry at Takeomi and Hakkai and angry at myself for still holding onto that anger.”

“I understand.”

“Why? What is wrong with me for being so bitter?”

Your therapist smiled, softly, pulling her glasses off her nose and on top of her head.

“You know, you are allowed to feel angry. It is an emotion that deserves to be felt, stop suppressing it. It isn’t as bad as people think.”

You looked at her sceptically, and she let out a small laugh

“Sure, when turned onto oneself, or others, it is destructive, but if directed correctly, anger is ambition. Anger is a good guide to know when people are crossing your boundaries. Some of the most successful people in the world are filled with anger.”

“I don’t understand, doc.”

“Allow yourself to be angry, you had a tough life, it’s fine to feel it out. And after you feel, act.”

Bang.

Hakkai looked up from the stove, furrowing his brows.

Mitsuya wasn’t supposed to come home for at least another two hours, and since the epic fight between the two of you, there was no one to unexpectantly show up and annoy him.

Bang. Bang. Bang.

Turning the flame on the stove down to allow the food to simmer without burning, he wiped his hands on his apron, cautiously creeping to the door in order to twist the key.

The banging stopped.

Taking a deep breath in, he opened the door.

And was met with a fist to the face.

“WhaT THE FUC-“

“I AM SORRY!” You screamed before he could as much as look in your direction, sprawled on the floor holding his painful, but not bleeding nose.

This was almost definitely not*** what your therapist meant by ‘Utilise your anger’, but hey.

If it works, it works.

“Y/n, wh-“ Before he could finish, you plopped yourself on top of him, gripping onto his shirt, burying your face into his neck.

“I am sorry for what I said. It was fucked up.” You mumble against his neck, nuzzling your face further in.

For a few seconds, Hakkai said nothing, cogs turning into his brain as he tried to figure out what to say, to yell at you or hug you back.

“I was angry, but that doesn’t excuse it. And you’re my best friend Hakkai, and I love you so much, and I hope you can forgive me.”

He blinked.

And when you felt his arms wrap around your back, you knew you were forgiven.

“I’m sorry too.”

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[tomboy-writer]

Prompt: Chris Evans story where your boyfriend is a cheating douche-bag. He cheats on you time and time again and you get into a bit of a depression. You confide in your best friend, Chris Evans. His consoling leads to sex, the sex soon turns into a regular thing and you get happy again. Your boyfriend sees your change and promises that he will never cheat again and that he will treat you better. You’re happy but sad at the same time because now you have to break things off with Chris. But Chris won’t have it; he says that you should stay with him and not your boyfriend. You’re not sure of which decision to make, so Chris lists off reasons why you would be better off with him.

Chris Evans x black!reader

A/N: my first Chris Evans story!! Let me know what you guys think of it.

A/N 2: I started this story a few years ago and it took me a long time to finish cause I was on a very long writing hiatus and didn't finish this until earlier this year, so some of the story goes off of what the summary says and I decided to turn this into 2 parts (could be more, depending on how long the 2nd part is). So no smut in this part, just angst and dumb jokes. This also originally wasn't going to be a black reader story, but seeing how my ACTUAL 1st Chris Evans story went pretty well (the Game On story) I decided to make it another one cause I love it.

C/W: angst, swearing, my dumb jokes, 3rd person story (it hurt my brain to write it this way, but I wanted to try something different)

“He did it again, Chris! Michael cheated on me with some big titted chick,” Y/N said as she sobbed into her best friend’s shoulder.

Chris rubbed his friend’s back, trying to calm her down. He knew how to handle situations like these since Y/N went through so many of them with her boyfriend. Chris thought her relationship with Michael was like a broken record: always repeating itself. It was good at first with the couple being so obviously in love, but that changed six months later when Michael decided that Y/N wasn’t enough and started to cheat on her with multiple women. Y/N had been given advice by Chris countless times about guys like Michael and she listened to him, she really did. But she always ended up forgiving her unfaithful boyfriend and enjoyed the makeup sex that Michael would give her after.

“He and that big titted chick can both go to hell for all I care,” Chris replied. Then he lifted his friend’s head from his shoulder and made her look directly in his eyes. “Hey hon,” he said using his ‘friendly’ nickname for Y/N. “I think it’s about time you dropped that lame ass zero and got yourself a hero.”

“Okay, Captain America,” Y/N chuckled while wiping her face.

Chris laughed too, but deep down he was really hoping that Y/N would actually consider dating him. They met seven years ago and became fast friends. But the bearded actor didn’t count on falling for Y/N a few years later when he was doing an interview for one of his new movies and Y/N was there to help support him and make sure his anxiety didn’t get the best of him. While in the middle of the interview, Chris started to feel a little fidgety, so he tugged on his ear; a sign that told Y/N that he needed her help. She was standing right behind the cameraman, so Y/N could see everything that Chris was doing. She saw the signal and started to make some weird faces for her best friend.

Y/N made Chris and the interviewer crack up that day, especially when she stood right behind the cameraman and started to bulge her eyes out at him, making him laugh as well. At that moment, Chris realized that he had found that special someone. That special someone that he wants to spend the rest of his life with and just keep forever, never let go. 

Y/N was sweet, considerate and loved Disney movies and dogs as much as he did. So he felt that she was just perfect for him. He even started to mentally kick his ass for taking so long to realize this.

The interviewer asked Chris one last question before he had to leave.

“So, Chris, is there a special lady in your life? Ya know, besides your mother and sisters,” she asked.

Chris chuckled and looked right in Y/N’s direction with a bright smile on his face. “Well, I don’t have anyone yet,” the blonde answered, his eyes never leaving Y/N’s, “but I’m looking for her.”

“Chris? Chris, did you hear me,” Y/N asked suddenly, stopping Chris from remembering the day he fell for her.

Evans shook his head no. “Sorry, I zoned out for a few seconds.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I said I would love to find a new boyfriend, but I’m still in love with Michael.” Chris rolled his eyes this time. “Don’t do that, man. I can’t help that these are my feelings for him.”

“But what are your feelings for him right now! Aren’t you sad? Pissed? Or feeling like you just wanna punch that douche-bag in the face so hard that his face caves in a little bit?”

Chris’s friend nodded her head yes and started to sob again. He felt bad for making Y/N cry; he would never want to make her tears fall from her eyes unless they were tears of joy. He grabbed Y/N and embraced her for a few minutes until she was calm again. Once was she was, Chris pulled away from Y/N enough to look her in her eyes.

“Hey, promise me that you’ll forget about that douche for at least two weeks and just try to find someone better. Okay?” Chris begged with sincerity in his eyes. 

“Okay,” I promise,” Y/N complied.

Chris kissed Y/N’s head and, after saying goodbye, left his friend’s house for the night.

           * * *

Chris returned to Y/N’s house a few weeks later. He rung the doorbell and heard a faint ‘it’s open’. Evans opened and closed the door behind him and blushed at the sight in front of him: there stood Y/N, wearing only a pair of boy shorts and an over sized t-shirt, no makeup. That’s when Chris thought, no knew, that Y/N was the most beautiful woman out there.

"Hi Chris," Y/N greeted her best friend with a warm hug and a kiss on his cheek. Evans couldn't help the blush that crept onto his face. He also couldn't help but to imagine if he and Y/N were together and he'd come home from being on set all day long, her greeting him the same way she was now except that she'd try to pull back a little to ask him about his day. But Chris would hold his lover in a tight embrace, kiss her so lovingly, so passionately, and ask about her day instead.

Yeah, Christopher Robert [Jamal] Evans would love that.

"Hey, Y/N," Chris replied as he breathed in the embrace. "How've you been lately?"

"A little bit better; not fully okay, but I'm getting there I think," Y/N answered.

Chris shook his head in disbelief. He knew when his best friend was lying to him. "Y/N," he whispered, "I can see in your eyes that you're hurting more than letting on. You sure you're doing fine?"

Y/N's smile was quickly replaced with a small frown. "I'm doin' fine, Evans," she answered, mocking Chris's Boston accent. "And, before you ask, yes I have went on a few dates with other guys; three to be exact. First guy wouldn't shut up about his ex-wife; like I was supposed to be his therapist or something. Second guy -this gorgeous dreadhead- we connected and shit, but he too wouldn't stop talking about his ex and his table manners were terrible." You rolled your eyes before finishing your list. "Last but not least, I went on date with Mr. I-Got-Tons-of-Money-Baby. We didn't connect at all and I'm sure it was cause of his cocky attitude and the way he talked down to people -it was disgusting! " The dateless woman flounced into her big living room and plopped down onto her L-shaped sofa. "Trying to find a new man is pointless, Chris. Either I start dating women cause why the fuck not!? Or I just give up on love all together."

Chris chuckled but then nervously cleared his throat after he came up with a great -but what he also thought was a heart attack inducing- idea. "Y/N," he stammered.

"Yeah, man?"

"If the whole thing with you dating females doesn't work out, but you still want to try to find love, then I know exactly who you should date next."

Y/N gave Chris a questionable look. He didn't say anything back, just raised an eyebrow and grinned mischievously. It took Y/N a few seconds to understand what Chris was talking about. But once she did, her mouth went into an O shape, showing her shock and surprise.

"Are you serious, Evans," Y/N exclaimed; eyes now wide as golf balls. "You wanna date me!?!"

The actor chuckled. He didn't think that his friend would be so shocked by his words. "I've been wanting to date you basically almost ever since we first met, Y/N. I just- -I just never knew what to say to you about it, or if you felt the same way or not and if you didn't then I didn't want to ruin our friendship, or if you did feel the dame way but then something bad happens to us down the road and then that messes with up our friendship and then there's the thing with paparazzi..." Chris was rambling on and on but Y/N was listening to everything he was saying. Hanging onto every word that was coming out of her best friend's mouth.

Y/N had never known that Chris had felt this way about her. It wasn't that she was completely oblivious (well, maybe a little), but she also never saw any signs of her friend being in love with her. Wait. Was Chris in love with Y/N? As far as she knew -or as far as she thought from what she was told so far- this was just a crush. A crush confession that apparently was a long time coming. She wondered how she felt for Chris; did she have the same feelings for him like he did for her? When they first met, all Y/N cared about was how Chris acted as a person, not as Captain America or as an actor in general. But as Chris Evans, an everyday man. Y/N knew, after that one day of meeting Evans, that she wanted to be best friends with the man, nothing more and nothing less. But now, with Chris' confession and continuous ramblings, Y/N was having different and a little bit confusing thoughts.

Sure Chris Evans is an very attractive man, physically speaking. But Y/N doesn't care about looks -much- when it comes to dating or anything for that matter. She thinks what makes people attractive is their personality more than anything, and she knows Chris has the best personality she's ever seen from a person. But she wasn't sure if she was ready to date him or anyone else for that matter. Although, if Y/N was going to date more, then Chris would probably be her number one pick.

"So, what do you say, Y/N," Chris asked, hopeful.

______________________________________________________________

And that's the end of part 1, everyone. Part 2 will be posted....probably next week or so. It is currently one of my WIPs so I'm definitely working on it.

But what do ya'll think will happen next? What will Y/N's answer to Chris be? Will she say yes, or will she say no? Who knows??? Except for me; I know. Also, you're Y/N; Y/N is you, so you better hope that you say something positive back :P Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this! Thanks for reading!!

[theladyofdeath]

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 4}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

Word Count: 2550

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Apollo

– God of light, prophecy, inspiration, poetry, the sun, music and arts, medicine and healing

Aelin tried to convince herself that she got up and got ready two hours early for class because of her busy schedule. She kept telling herself it was for the meeting she had with her advisor, about a possible internship at the end of the semester.

She knew that both reasons, while extremely important, were full of shit. She knew she’d showered, blow dried and curled her hair for Rowan. It wasn’t that she was trying to impress him. She’d already done that and the chance she had to be with him had come and gone.

No, now it was about proving to him that even though this class may be a gen ed, she was taking it seriously.

Dropping the class had crossed her mind. She really didn’t need to take it, she could still find a different one to pick up. But she didn’t want to think about the sort of impression it would leave about her.

If there was anything to know about Aelin Galathynius, it was that she was not a quitter, nor did she run from her problems.

Or heartaches.

With one last look in the mirror, and a whistle from Lysandra, Aelin was out the door and hurrying across campus. She grabbed a coffee on the way, but avoided her usual place, knowing full well that Rowan enjoyed the same famous cafe that she did.

He wasn’t there yet when she got to the hall, but she took the same seat she had the class before.

She wondered if Rowan would be looking for her this time.

She quickly shook the thought away.

With her hot coffee on the corner of her fold up desk, she was pulling out her notebook and a pen, waiting anxiously for class to begin.

For him to walk through the door.

Apparently he liked to be right on the dot, though, because students continued to wander in, but he did not.

She was tapping her pen against her notebook, doing her best not to stare at the clock. She was just anxious for her day to start. It wasn’t that she wanted to see Rowan.

Professor Whitethorn, she amended in her head. She had to quit thinking of him as Rowan. She couldn’t think of him like that anymore, his body pressing into hers, lips on her neck, as he—

Shaking her head, Aelin sighed and suddenly realized that the rest of the class had hushed. She was so focused on reprimanding herself for her highly inappropriate thoughts that she hadn’t noticed him come through the door and begin setting up for class. When she dared to glance towards the front, she found his eyes on her. He quickly looked away, going back to his laptop and setting up the PowerPoint on screen.

Maybe he hadn’t been looking at her.

Maybe it had all been in her mind.

But she didn’t think it had been.

He had been watching her.

“Happy Thursday, class,” he began, as the title page of his presentation flashed onto the board. “Glad to see you all showed up again. Must mean my first class didn’t suck.” Quiet laughter thrummed through the room. Aelin couldn’t muster a laugh, though. “On Tuesday, we covered the basics. So, today… Sorry, we’re doing that again.”

More laughter, especially from the pretty, flirty girls up front.

Aelin couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Which, when she settled her eyes back on Rowan, he definitely saw.

Come on, get your shit together, she chastised herself. With her back straightened, she gave him her full attention.

She took dutiful notes, but his slides didn’t hold much in the way of information. They were mostly headers, with a few bullet points. Most of the important information, information she knew would be critical for homework or exams, came straight from Rowan’s mouth.

It was clear that he loved mythology, that it wasn’t just a class his aunt had tossed his way and told him to figure it out. He was a trove of knowledge and she noticed he had a habit of going on slight tangents when he got going on a topic he was clearly interested in.

After a student asked him to clarify what he meant about Hercules not being Zeus’ only son, he ended up talking for nearly twenty minutes about what the beloved Disney movie had gotten wrong. Aelin had stopped taking notes and was watching him go on and on about how Hades, while god of the underworld, was not necessarily a villain. He just had a job to do. A job that had rules that must be followed, or the consequences could damn not only him, but others involved. His eyes found hers again and the amused smile on her face fell as she made the correlation between their own situation and the story.

They held each other’s gazes for far longer than was appropriate, and Rowan cleared his throat, going back to the PowerPoint, and the  predetermined lesson plans he’d made, which didn’t include children’s movie breakdowns.

She watched him.

She listened.

And she found it all fascinating. 

Rowan peeked at the clock after going on and on, and stilled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I guess I’ll end there. There is an assignment due by tomorrow evening. You can find and submit it online. It’s an opinion piece. I want a little insight as to why you were so interested to take this class, or what you’ve found fascinating so far.” He sat on his desk, his legs hanging over the side, his feet nearly touching the ground as he leaned back on his palms. Aelin found it charming. “You’re going to write a short essay telling me of your favorite deity. It could be one I’ve talked about so far, or one I haven’t. It’s your choice. But, tell me why they are your favorite. Give me a little depth. And, remember, this is a college course. Grammar counts.”

The clock struck nine-thirty and everyone began packing up. Aelin had been so captivated by his voice that she had to snap herself back to reality.

She quickly packed up her bag, alongside the other students around her. She noticed then how young they all were, and she was willing to bet that she may be the only senior on the roster. As she was descending the stairs, she found Rowan’s eyes on her again, but he looked away as his attention was taken, thanks to the group of girls who’d been sitting in the front row. She heard vague questions of whether they could all write about Aphrodite, since they all related to her.

The scoff Aelin thought she’d kept to herself had apparently been out loud, since not only Rowan looked at her as she passed, but so did the three girls. With his attention on her again, she decided to give him a little wave.

“See you later, Professor Whitethorn.”

If there was some extra sway to her hips, it wasn’t on purpose.

At least that’s what she told herself.

Two and a half hours later, Aelin was starving. She’d just gotten out of an extremely complicated lab and she could barely focus over the growling of her stomach. Twice, the instructor had looked over at her, half expecting to find a dog stashed under the table she was working at.

So when the class let out, she was hurrying toward the cafeteria ready to get a salad from the salad bar and a big ass slice of pizza.

It was all about balance. 

As she was waiting in line to fill her plate with salad, she heard a voice behind her.

“Are you actually getting lettuce or just filling your plate with ham, cheese, and croutons?” 

Aelin looked over her shoulder to find Chaol, her ex, suppressing a smile.

Aelin chuckled. “If it’s the same price, you may as well pile up on the good stuff.” 

Chaol gave her a small smile. “Fair enough. It’s good to see you, Aelin. You look good.”

Things hadn’t ended the best between her and Chaol, but that had been just after freshman year. At least now when they ran into one another, they could have nice little conversations like this one.

No hard feelings.

“You too,” she said, and he did. He’d been in an accident the year before. They weren’t sure he was going to walk again. In all honesty, it was just good to see him on his feet.

“How long until your class?” He asked, sliding his tray along behind hers.

She glanced down at her watch. “About forty five minutes. You?”

“This is my long break,” he sighed. “I’ve got an hour and a half, but didn’t feel like leaving campus. Want to have lunch with me?”

“Sure.” Her smile wasn’t forced, it was easy and she was glad they could even do this, when three years again, they could barely be in the same room.

“I assume you’re getting a piece of pizza after this,” Chaol said with a smirk, nodding towards her plate. “So I’ll grab us a table while you get the rest of your lunch.”

She scoffed but nodded, and went off to get a slice of pizza. When she ordered her pizza, she also got a slice of cheesecake. It was his favorite, something she hadn’t forgotten, but it didn’t hurt that she liked it, too.

Finding him in the cafeteria, she sat down at the table across from him. “How’s Yrene doing?”

He blushed, and Aelin had to admit it was adorable. After his accident, he’d fallen for his physical therapist, and she was just as smitten with him. It must have been all the one-on-one sessions, because Chaol had never been one to let someone in. Aelin had met Yrene early in her med classes, but Yrene had specialized in PT and graduated in less than three years, taking as many classes as she could manage and even studying through the summers as well.

“It’s going good,” he said, at last. “We, uh, just moved in together, actually.”

Aelin lifted a brow. “That was fast.”

Chaol shot her a look.

Aelin laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant, good for you. I like Yrene. A lot. You two are good together.”

Chaol cleared his throat before taking a bite of his salad. “Thanks.” 

Aelin chuckled, taking a bite of her pizza.

Chaol blinked. “What?”

“You get so uncomfortable when it comes to feelings,” she said. “Always have.”

His eyes narrowed at her. “That’s not true.”

Aelin stopped mid-chew and raised a brow.

Even Chaol couldn’t help but chuckle at the expression. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What about you? Seeing anyone?”

Aelin hesitated, then said, “No.”

A slow grin appeared on Chaol’s mouth. “Didn’t sound so sure about what one.”

Aelin shrugged. “Better be nice or I’m not sharing this magnificent cheesecake with you.”

Holding up his hands in placation, Chaol went back to his salad. Rowan was a dangerous topic, one she wouldn’t share with anyone but Lysandra, so she summed it up quickly. “Met someone I thought I hit it off with. Turns out we didn’t work.”

He slowly nodded. Aelin knew he’d had a couple failed relationships between her and Yrene. “I get it, I’m sorry. Still sucks.”

Shrugging again, she turned to her salad. “It happens. Not a big deal. So if you’re living with Yrene, does that mean you and Dorian broke up? Or is he playing house with you, too?”

Chaol leveled her with a look. Chaol and Dorian had been best friends long before they came to the University of Orynth. They were both from Adarlan, both trying to get away from overbearing fathers, and decided college across the country was the way to do it. They’d been roommates every year and Aelin couldn’t even imagine Chaol living with anyone except Dorian. But now he was. “He moved into an apartment with Manon this semester when I moved in with Yrene.”

Aelin blinked. “Blackbeak? He moved in with Manon Blackbeak?”

Nodding, Chaol went on. “Apparently, they’ve been dating for about a year, without anyone noticing.”

Something in the way he said it told Aelin that he had noticed, but when Dorian had his mind set on something, there was no stopping him. And apparently, he’d decided to date one of the most terrifying women on campus.

Aelin’s response was eloquent. “Wow.”

Chaol grinned. “I like it when you’re caught off guard. It’s satisfying.”

With a scoffed she nudged his leg with the toe of her sneaker. “Well, I don’t. Dorian will be getting a very angry phone call this afternoon.”

“I’ll be sure to give him a warning,” Chaol promised.

Aelin chuckled, taking the last bite of her pizza. “It’s good to see you all happy, though. Really.”

Chaol’s eyes softened. “Thanks, Aelin.”

She nodded. “Even if I am terrified that Dorian will get eaten alive.”

Chaol laughed, and she had forgotten how nice Chaol’s rare, hearty laugh was.

She meant it. She was so happy for them, both of them. It was interesting how things changed over the course of a few short years.

Their conversation continued, as did the laughs, and before she knew it, Aelin glanced down at her watch. She had less than fifteen minutes to haul ass back to the nursing building for her next class. Chaol, who had much longer to sit with nothing to do, assured her that he could handle her trash and told her to get to class. With a hug, and a promise that they’d have dinner soon, all of them, even Manon, Aelin was hurrying out of the cafeteria building.

Somehow, the entire time she’d been having lunch with Chaol, she hadn’t noticed the set of pine green eyes watching her.

Rowan’s own break had been at the same time as hers, but the gen ed building was much closer than wherever she was having to run off to, so he had longer to sit and— there was no denying it— brood. They were halfway across the room, so he couldn’t hear any of their conversation. He had no clue who the tall man was she smiled at so often, but clearly they were very familiar with each other with how easily they talked. And he made her laugh. A lot.

Rowan wasn’t sure why that was what grated on his nerves the most, but it unsettled him.

Seeing Aelin with someone else, someone clearly her own age, it all unsettled him. He didn’t like it. Almost as much as her parting words in class had.

See you later, Professor Whitethorn.

It’s like she was mocking him, yet at the same time, she clearly wasn’t. She was doing exactly as he’d asked of her, seeing him as her professor, not as her boyfriend.

No, he reprimanded himself. Not boyfriend. Hookup.

They’d had sex one time, that didn’t give either of them any claim over the other. It was a hookup and nothing more. And she was his gods-damned student.

She was off limits, in every way possible.

Yet he couldn’t figure out why seeing her with someone else, someone she should clearly be interested in instead of him, had him seeing red.

[thetravelerwrites]

Errol (Naga) Lemon

Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Cheating, Infidelity, Break-ups, Hurt/Comfort, Pining, Secretly In Love, Angst, Sex, Breeding, Pregnancy Kink, Dom/Sub, Ovipositor, Oviposition, Pregnancy, Babies, Eggs, Egg Laying Words: 7887

A commission for @anjhope1​​! After catching her fiance cheating, the reader breaks up with him and goes home miserable. The ex-fiance's brother, Errol, arrives on his brother's order to get his things from her apartment, but Errol is more interested in taking care of the reader and making sure she's okay. It leads to some confusing feelings and a confession. Please reblog leave feedback!

The Traveler’s Masterlist

You’d had your suspicions for a while, but it wasn’t until you got the message on social media from a girl he’d dated and dumped who had photographic proof of it that you finally had to face the truth.

Your fiance was cheating on you.

Eric was a naga and had been with you for more than five years. He had asked you to marry him, ring and all, on New Years Eve with his family. He had made a big show of it, too. And now, you were going to have to confront him about being a cheating bastard.

The woman who had been dumped told you that he was now dating her friend, and she had gotten the room number where they were supposed to meet. You got to the hotel with your heart in your throat and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” That was definitely Eric’s voice. He had told you that his friend needed help moving and that he’d be staying over to help him. What a good friend he was.

You deepened your voice in an effort to mask it. “Room service.”

“Oh, good, I was wondering if you were ever going to come,” Eric said, and the door swung open. As soon as he saw you, the blood drained out of his already pale face.

“No, wait--”

“Hey, babe, did they bring the right wine this time?” A female voice said from inside.

You took off your ring and threw it in his face and called inside the room, “You can have the bastard.” And walked away.

“Wait, please, this isn’t what you think,” Eric said, slithering quickly down the hall to catch you. He grabbed your arm and you wrenched it violently out of his grasp.

“Babe, who’s this?” The woman said. She was human and pretty, you guessed.

“I’m his fiance,” You retorted. “Oh, sorry, ex-fiance. Don’t worry, he’s all yours.”

“What the fuck, Eric?!” She shouted at him. “Are you kidding me?”

“Rachel, it’s not…” He stuttered. “It isn’t…”

Rachel slapped him and pushed past you toward the elevator, not looking back.

“Babe--” He started, turning back toward you.

“Don’t you dare call me ‘babe,’ you son of a bitch. Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you waste five fucking years of my life?”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“I don’t give a shit what you meant to do! I want an explanation. Was the sex bad? Do you not love me anymore? Are you just the type of person who has to have a side-chick? What? What about this is good for you? What about all this made destroying our relationship worth it?”

He groaned and scratched his head with both hands. “I… It… I can be anything I want to be with those girls, you know? If I say I’m rich, then I’m rich. If I say I’m successful, then I’m successful, and they don’t know better. They don’t know I have a shitty job that I hate. They don’t know that my girlfriend makes twice as much money as me, that she’s popular with people and everyone likes her better than me, even my own fucking family. They don’t know what a fucking loser I am.”

“And that’s my fucking fault?!” You screamed at him. “You know what you could have done instead of ruining a five year relationship? Gotten fucking therapy! Or, better yet, talked to me about it! I have been nothing but supportive of you. I have encouraged you to leave your job and find a better one. I told you I would support you until you found something that made you happy. You could have gone back to school or done and apprenticeship or vocational work, whatever, and I’d have been there! You could do whatever you wanted, and I would have helped you, and you know that!”

“Right, because you so fucking perfect, huh?” He yelled back. “It’s not enough that you rub your perfect job in my face every day and go around spending whatever you want because you don’t have to worry about money, but you also have to be perfectly supportive and perfectly giving and perfectly loving, too, right? How am I supposed to feel good about myself when you’re always better than me at everything?”

“So, it’s my fault you’re cheating on me because I’m a good girlfriend? Is that what you’re saying to me? I’m too fucking nice, so you had to put your dick in random women to feel better about yourself?” You raised your hands as if surrendering and shook your head in disbelief. “You know what? Fucking forget me. Forget our relationship, forget getting married, forget you ever knew me, forget my fucking face, don’t ever come to my house, don’t ever message me again, delete my number from your phone. As far as you’re concerned, I don’t exist to you, because you sure as shit don’t exist to me anymore.” You turned to leave.

“What about my stuff?” He protested.

“Send your brother to come get your shit,” You said without turning. “If you set foot on my property, I’ll have you arrested for trespassing. I’m not fucking around. I’m so fucking glad you never moved in when I offered. ”

“So that’s it?” He said as you waited for the elevator to come back up. “You’re not even willing to work this out? It’s just over?”

“Get fucked, Eric,” You said, stepping into the elevator. “Oh wait, you already did. Do yourself a favor and sell that ring to pay for a therapist.” And the door closed on him.

As soon as the elevator started to move, you hit the floor and sobbed. Why? Why was he like this? You thought everything was perfect up until a few months ago, and you hadn’t know he felt like this. He always seemed happy. How were you supposed to know otherwise if he never said anything?

How you got back home, you didn’t know, because you didn’t remember it. You grabbed a bottle of whiskey from the freezer and didn’t even bother with a glass. For about an hour, you just sat there disheveled on your couch, crying and drinking.

Sometime later, there was a sheepish knock on your door. You hoped to God that it wasn’t Eric, but when you opened the door, Errol was there. Errol, Eric, and their sister Enya, were all from the same clutch of eggs, so he looked a lot like his brother in that they all had white, black, gold scales, golden eyes, cream colored skin, and blond hair. Errol was a bit larger that Eric, and where Eric wore his hair short, Errol kept his long and braided back. You always thought that it made him look elegant, despite his size. He was still wearing his work clothes, as if he’d just come from his construction job.

You and Errol hadn’t spent much time together alone, since Eric was a little jealous of other men. He’d always been very nice to you, though, and liked you just as well as the rest of his family. He’d even given you advice a few times in the past when you and Eric were fighting.

“Can I come in?” He asked, wincing.

“Did you know?” You asked him, your throat raw and hoarse from crying.

“No, I didn’t know,” He said solemnly.

“Don’t bullshit me, Errol,” You replied harshly.

“I swear I didn’t know. I would have told you, I promise. My brother can be an asshole, but I never thought he would do something like this.” Errol grimaced. “Are you okay?”

“Do I fucking look okay?” You retorted, your voice shaking as the tears returned. “If you’ve come to get his stuff, just get it and leave.”

“I couldn’t give less of a shit about his stuff, I’m here for you,” Errol said. He held up a couple of plastic bags. “I brought take out and ice cream.”

“I’m not hungry,” You said vaguely, but you moved aside to let him in.

“I got alcohol, too,” He said as he slithered inside. “I could make you a Bailey’s float.”

You sighed and sniffled. “Okay.”

You sat at your table as he bustled around making the drink, laying your tear-flushed face on the cool surface of the wood.

“What did I do wrong?” You asked weepily with your cheek pressed against the table.

“Nothing,” Errol said as he lay the glass in front of you, moving a chair so that he could coil up next to the table. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why did he do it?” You asked, sitting up and taking a watery bite of the ice cream. “Why wasn’t I enough? He said ‘girls,’ which means there’s probably more than the two I know about. How long has he been doing this? Our whole relationship?”

“When he called me to come over here and get his stuff for him, I asked. I’m not sure if he was telling me the truth, but he said it’s only been the last year.” Errol snorted derisively. “Only.”

“How many girls?” You asked.

He shook his head. “He wouldn’t tell me. He kept trying to get me to side with him, but…” Errol rolled his eyes. “I’m not buying anything he says right now.”

“Did he do this to his other girlfriends?”

“Well, you were his first serious girlfriend,” Errol said. “Before you, he only dated casually, so it was never a problem. When he said he really loved you, I thought he meant it.”

“Yeah.” Your lip quivered and you stabbed the spoon into your float. “Me too.”

Errol reached out and pulled you into a tight hug, which you sank into and let loose again, soaking his shirt in tears.

“I’m so sorry,” Errol whispered into your hair.

At some point, Errol put you to bed. You were exhausted and drunk and just wanted to sleep, so he lay you down and left you to it.

When the morning came, you felt like your head had been run over with a truck. You decided to get some coffee going before taking a shower, but to your surprise, Errol was still there. He was in the kitchen on the phone, his hair out of it’s usual braid and tumbling down his shoulders.

“What the hell is wrong with you, dude?” Errol said. You immediately realized he was talking to his brother. “No, I’m not picking up your shit. I don’t care if she burns it all.” He was silent for a moment, and you could hear Eric speaking. “No… No, you’re full of shit. Do you know what a good thing you had? Do you have any idea what I would give to have what you just shit on? …fuck no, I’m not going to talk her into taking you back, are you insane?! Get over yourself… No… No, it’s not happening, you can go fuck yourself right now… Look, I don’t have time for your bullshit right now.”

Errol hung up and turned, startled to realize you were standing there. “Oh, hey,” He said. “How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” You replied honestly. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

“Yeah, you were in bad shape last night and I didn’t want to leave you alone. I slept on the couch, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, no, that’s fine,” You said. “I was just going to make coffee.”

“Oh, I already made some,” He said, going to the coffee pot and pouring you a mugful. “I figured you could use it. I’ve got breakfast coming too, something greasy to absorb all that alcohol.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” You said, sipping the coffee. It was really good, but not your normal brand, though it tasted very familiar. Actually, now that you thought about it, you always drank the gross coffee Eric liked. This was a nice change. “I’m going to take a shower and wash last night off of me. Are you okay here?”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time,” He said, turning to pull down plates and prepare for breakfast.

You were about to turn to the bathroom but stopped. “Errol.”

He looked back up at you. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for… thanks.”

He smiled at you. “It’s no problem at all.”

You took your shower with your head pressed against the tile. Why couldn’t you just forget? Why couldn’t you put all of it out of your mind and stop thinking about it? What would it take to make the pain stop?

The water was cold by the time you got out, and when you went back into the kitchen, the food had arrived and Errol had everything set out on the table. He looked up anxiously when you came in.

“You okay?” He said, concerned. “You were in there for a worryingly long time. I was thinking about going in there if you hadn’t come out in five minutes.��

“I’m fine. Well, not fine, but you know.”

“Yeah,” He said sympathetically. “Try to eat. All you had last night were two bites of ice cream and a lot of alcohol.”

You picked up your fork and speared a sausage. “I must look horrible.”

“Nope, not possible,” He said, tucking into his own plate of food. “A person can look tired and cute at the same time, you know.”

You snorted, prodding your puffy face gently. “You’re too nice. Maybe I should have dated you instead.”

He laughed. “You know, it’s actually kinda funny, I was going to ask you out back in college before you started dating Eric.”

“Really?” You asked, surprised.

“Yeah, he kind of sniped you, if I’m being honest.”

“I never knew that,” You said. “Did he know you wanted to ask me out?”

“Oh, yeah, I told him,” He said, shoveling eggs into his mouth. “I told him there was a girl at my college who always went to this one coffee shop near campus, and I told him I was going buy you your favorite coffee and cookies as an icebreaker.”

Your head rocked back. “That’s exactly what he did when he asked me out.”

Errol tsked sardonically. “Yeah. I know.”

You scoffed. “Wow, what an absolute asshole.”

Errol shrugged and smiled. “Ancient history now. Do you want some more coffee?”

“Yeah, thanks,” You said as he filled your cup. “This is really good, what is it?”

“Orange and almond mocha.”

You cocked your head. “Wait… isn’t that the blend I drank at the coffee shop? It used to be my favorite.”

“I know,” He said. “I ordered some. I thought it might be a nice pick-me-up. The shit that Eric drinks is revolting.”

“That’s definitely true,” You said, looking at Errol closely. “You remembered what my favorite coffee blend was from five years ago?”

Errol looked up at you. His face seemed carefully blank.

“Yeah, but I mean, it’s no big deal.” He wiped his mouth and sat back. “I should get going, I have work in a few hours. Are you going to be okay here on your own?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I think I’m going to take some personal days.”

Errol nodded.”That’s a good idea. I’ll call later to check on you, okay? If you need anything, just text me.”

“Okay,” You said, feeling a little off-balance.

Errol smiled and let himself out, and you were left standing there, staring after him as an overwhelming sense of realization hit you like a freight train.

…did I date the wrong brother all this time?

Later in the day, Eric called. You almost weren’t going to pick up, but you decided to see what he had to say for himself now that the heat of the moment had passed.

“What do you want?” You said brusquely.

“Why did my brother spend the night at your house last night?” Eric said immediately.

“...excuse me?” You replied, incredulous.

“You heard me. What the fuck was he doing there?”

“I don’t see how that is any of your business.”

“What do you mean, it’s not my business? He’s my brother and you’re my fiance!”

“Ex-fiance,” You corrected him. “First of all, you are the one who told him to come over in the first place. Secondly, I was not obviously doing well last night and he stayed to make sure I didn’t do anything stupid or die in my sleep of alcohol poisoning. And third, and I cannot stress this enough, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Don’t bullshit me, you know he’s in love with you.”

Your head snapped back in agitation. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Oh, you really don’t know? Ms. Perfect doesn’t know that my asshole brother has had a crush on you for years?”

“You’re full of shit, Eric,” You retorted. “Don’t drag Errol into this.”

“Did you just decide to fuck my brother to get back at me, is that it?”

“Fuck you, Eric!” You hung up the phone and hit the floor, a wave of anguish washing you again. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he have to make everything worse?

The phone rang again, and it was Eric. You decided to block him and be done with it. You got a notification from Facebook, and then Twitter, and then Instagram, all from Eric. Every new notification made your anxiety rise higher and higher until you were balled up on the floor, sobbing again. In desperation, she dialed Errol’s number.

“Hello?”

“Please help,” She begged, weeping. “He won’t leave me alone. He keeps messaging me and calling me. I can’t… I can’t do it…”

“I’ll take care of it, don’t worry,” Errol said. He sounded angry.

“Can you come over? Please?”

“Of course, I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. I’m going to turn off my phone.”

“That’s a good idea,” He said. “If I need to, I can message you on your gaming console.”

“Okay,” You said. “Bye.”

He hung up with you and you turned your phone off, sitting on the floor of your kitchen in the blissful silence, unable to get up.

Was that true? Could it be possible that Errol had been in love with you the whole time you’d been dating Eric? He said he’d wanted to ask you out. He remembered tiny details, like what your favorite coffee had been. He made you your favorite dessert when you were miserable without even having to ask what it was. He stayed overnight to make sure you didn’t get hurt or hurt yourself. He bought breakfast and defended you. He didn’t have to do any of that. He was just your fiance’s brother. Ex-fiance.

He arrived shortly after you called him. As soon as he entered the house, before he had a chance to say anything, you reached up, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. For a second or two, there was no reaction, but then he leaned into the kiss, deepening it, savoring it, before abruptly putting his hands on your shoulders and pushing you back, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“...why did you do that?” He asked you, his face grim.

“Eric told me,” You said. “He said you’ve been in love with me the entire time I was dating him. Is that true?”

Errol looked down and away. “Look--”

“You told Eric on the phone that you’d have given anything to have what he had. You meant me, right?”

“Please don’t do this.”

“Errol, look at me!” You shouted.

It seemed to take a lot of will, but Errol’s eyes flicked back up to meet yours. They were pleading with you.

“Do you love me?”

His face scrunched as if he were in pain and he swallowed hard, shaking his head slightly. “I don’t…

“Don’t…lie to me,” You said in a tense whisper, tears spilling from your eyes. “Do you?”

Tears began to gather in his own eyes. His response was barely audible.

“…yes.”

“For how long?”

“Since I first saw you in the coffee shop.”

You tried to press forward to kiss him again, but he held you firm, sniffing. A tear rolled down his cheek.

“But I don’t want to be used to get revenge on my brother,” He whispered back, his voice strangled and uneven. “It’s not good for you and it’s not fair to me. You know that.”

Your face crumpled. He was right.

“I’m sorry,” You sobbed, unable to look at him anymore. “I just don’t want to think about him anymore. I don’t want him in my head.”

Finally, Errol pulled you into a hug.

“I know,” He said. His body was tense, as if he were restraining himself. “We can revisit this later. Much later.”

“When?” You asked piteously.

“Not now. Not soon. You need time to heal and I… need to think.”

“I’m sorry, Errol,” You cried into his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never saw it.”

He laughed slightly. “It’s not your fault. I got really good at hiding it. And Eric always kept you at arms length from me. I think he was afraid I’d steal you away or something.”

He let you go and you stepped away, looking at the ground in shame.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel like I was using you,” You said. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

He put his hand under his chin and made you look up at him, his thumb stroking your cheek. “For what it’s worth, I’m relieved the secret is out now. Tiptoeing around you and Eric was exhausting. The engagement was my worst nightmare, because it meant I’d have to just suffer in silence forever.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s over for both our sakes, then,” You said, attempting to smile.

He smiled too, but it was very soft. Gentle. “I don’t… think it’s a good idea for us to hang out together much from now on, at least for a while,” He said, letting go. “But… we can text. We can call. If you need anything, I’m always here for you. That’s always been true.”

You nodded. “I know.” You sighed and took another step back. “I’m going to miss you.”

His smile widened sadly. “I’m not far, but… I know what you mean.”

With the both of you in tears, he turned, opened the door, and was gone. Thirty seconds after he left, however, you got a text.

>Are you okay?

You smiled through your tears, feeling glad and grateful that he was still communicating with you. >No. But I think I will be.

>Good.

>Are you okay? You asked in return.

>Honestly, I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. This was a lot at once.

>Yeah, no kidding. I think I may see a therapist to help me out.

>That’s a really good idea. Maybe I should too.

>I think everyone should at least once.

>Yeah. Do you need anything?

>No, I’m okay. Thank you for everything, Errol.

>It’s my pleasure.

Some time passed. You and Errol talked and texted every single day. Neither of you brought up dating each other and carefully avoided affectionate language. He wanted you to heal and you wanted to give him a fair chance without the cloud of his brother hanging over you.

Talking to him was effortless, like talking to yourself. You each had your own tastes and dislikes, but you both loved a lot of the same things and had similar desires. You both loved your jobs, enjoyed the same music, gushed over books you’d read, and liked playing board games. One of your favorite things to do was watch movies remotely over Zoom. It was almost like being on a date, even if you couldn’t be together.

As hard as you tried not to, you compared everything Errol did to Eric. Even still, it was obvious that Errol had always been better suited to you than Eric ever was. It was abundantly clear that you had indeed been dating the wrong brother the entire time.

On what was supposed to be your anniversary with Eric, Errol sent you a link to play a horror game with him. Errol hated anything horror, so instead of spending the day crying and drinking and cursing Eric for being alive, you got to laugh the whole day at how loud Errol screamed when he was startled. It ended up being a wonderful day.

You did see a therapist, as did Errol, and the two of you would talk about your sessions with each other, sharing the advice the counselors had given you. He also sent you gifts through delivery, like the coffee you loved and your favorite treats. Whenever you’d had a bad day or had to deal with Eric due to post-breakup business, a treat would arrive the next day, and it always put a smile on your face.

You were worried that all the time apart might change how Errol felt, but he never wavered. You woke up every day to a text saying good morning, and went to bed after talking to him for at least an hour about your day. After a month, you realized that a day or two would go by when you wouldn’t think of Eric at all. You hadn’t thought that would be possible when you first broke up with Eric, and he did still haunt your thoughts most of the time, but the respite from the emotional distress of thinking of him, even for a short time, was wonderful.

Three months after the breakup and his confession, you, Errol, and your therapists all decided that you were ready to date again. That same day, Errol showed up on your doorstep with flowers. The sight of him was like breathing fresh air after being underwater.

“Hi,” He said, smiling brightly.

“Hi,” You replied, stepping forward to pull him into a hug. He reciprocated without hesitation.

“So…” He said, not letting go. “Do you want to go out with me tonight?”

“Yes,” You said, cuddling him closer.

He pulled back and kissed you for a very long time, tasting your lips and teasing his tongue just inside your mouth. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and just looked at your face, touching your cheeks with his fingertips. Eventually he stepped back.

“Let’s go.”

Dating him was amazing. He knew everything there was to know about you, so he took you to places you loved, to all your favorite restaurants, to concerts he knew you’d enjoy. It was like you’d been dating for years already, even though it was just a few weeks. You made out like teenagers, hot and heavy, but he was careful about being intimate too quickly, though, still fearful about being a rebound. You respected that.

You were already talking about the future, though. You both wanted to get married eventually and to be parents before you turned thirty. Before breaking up, you had been talking about having kids with Eric, which was something he had expressed interest in during the start of your relationship, but recently he had been making excuses, like he didn’t have enough in savings or he didn’t feel ready. You guessed you knew why now.

You were worried that his family would be angry with you for ending your relationship with Eric and dating Errol, but they seemed completely understanding. It was likely they were also aware that Errol had been in love with you forever, and the fact that Eric cheated on you wasn’t something they were proud of. You were still warmly invited to all the family gatherings with Errol, and while having Eric there was a little awkward, his seething anger at seeing you happy with Errol was the best revenge you could have asked for.

“They let everyone in the office have the day off. Do you want to hang out today?” You asked Errol one night after about a month and a half of dating.

“Ordinarily I’d love to, but I’m feeling kinda weird today. Squishy. I think I’m going to have my period soon.”

He wasn’t being hyperbolic; nagas with male sex organs both created the eggs and fertilized them, but they didn’t have a womb or cavity in their bodies where the eggs could incubate, which is why they needed people with uteruses to propagate the species. It took a month for the eggs to develop inside them, but after that, they could implant them into another person’s body at any time they chose. However, after a year, the eggs died naturally and were expelled from their bodies, therefore, male nagas experienced periods once a year. Eric usually went to a specialized facility where the eggs would be humanely disposed of.

“Are you sure? Isn’t it rather soon for that.”

“I went into heat last week. The eggs usually die quickly after that.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” You said. “Why did you go into heat? That typically only happens when nagas in a sexual relationship with someone, right?”

“That, and if you’re experiencing extreme sexual needs that aren’t being met.”

“Oh. Ohhh…” You hissed in a breath. “Is it because of me?”

“It’s nothing you need to worry about,” He reassured you. “It’s my problem. I’ll take care of it.”

You were silent for a moment of deep contemplation. He seemed to sense you were thinking about something.

“What’s the matter?” He asked.

“Do you think the eggs are still viable?”

It was his turn to be silent. “Um… maybe. Probably. I think it’ll be another week before I need to go in to evacuate them. Why do you ask?”

“I was just thinking…” You said slowly. “We both said we wanted kids. And I know we’re just starting out, and this is super sudden, and it probably doesn’t even make sense to do this now, and we haven’t even had sex yet, but… oh, god, I’m rambling…” You sighed heavily. “If you’d like, we can wait until next year when we’ve been together for longer, but… it just seems like this is a good opportunity. It… feels right, you know what I mean? If that’s what you want.”

He took another moment of silence to think really hard about what you were saying. “Are you sure about this, honey?” He asked you finally.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” You said resolutely. “I love you, and I’m in a good place, both emotionally and financially. I’m ready to be a mom. I have been for years.” You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt anxiously. “Is this something you want? I mean… I totally understand if it isn’t. If you want to wait, that’s fine with me. I just… I want to do this.”

His voice turned sultry. “You really want my eggs?”

You grinned and bit your lip. You’d learned through hints in conversations you had with him that he had a little bit of a breeding and pregnancy kink.

“Yeah. But we should act fast if we want them to take.”

“I’ll be right over,” He said, and the phone clicked.

You immediately went into the bathroom to get ready, feeling nervous. There was a weight of expectation on you, not just because you were talking about getting pregnant, but also because of how long Errol had wanted to be with you. You were scared that you wouldn’t live up to his expectation.

He arrived shortly after, looking excited and nervous. You pulled him into your arms and kissed him. He was shaking.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“Yeah,” He said, touching your face reverently. “I’ve just… I’ve been dreaming of this for so long. I can’t believe it’s actually happening.”

You smiled softly at him. “Come on.” You took him by the hand and pulled him toward the bedroom. He took a deep, shaky breath and followed.

Once in the room, he pulled you in and kissed you again, deeper this time, more probing, his body pressed flush against yours.

“I’m not sure how to… begin…” He said. “I don’t know what you like and don’t like yet.”

“We can learn as we go,” You said. “We don’t have to rush.”

“Well, what do you like? Do you have any kinks I should know about?”

You laughed. “I have a few, I guess.”

“Tell me about one,” He said.

Instead of telling, you knelt down and sat on your knees with your butt resting on your feet, perched forward on your hands, and looked up at him through your lashes.

“What would you like me to do for you?” You asked, biting your lip.

His eyebrows rose and a startled smile spread across his face. “Oh,” He said. Slowly, he took off his long shirt, exposing his torso and the slit on his lower abdomen, usually closed and imperceptible from his scales, but now swollen and puckered slightly. He ran his fingers through your hair where you were crouched on the floor and came close, so that his slit was near your face.

“Touch it for me, sweetie,” He said.

Gently, you circled one finger around the slit, feeling it pulse under your touch. He exhaled sharply and his head fell back, his braid swinging. With your forefinger and middle finger, you stroked it up and down, watching it open slowly. You leaned forward and kissed it, and he spasmed, groaning.

Gradually, two dicks emerged from his slit, a long, thin one with a spear-like head, and a shorter, thick one with a bulbous head. You knew each had a different purpose. Normally, the thin one would be retracted so that nagas could just enjoy sex, but the thin one was an ovipositor. It’s what implanted the eggs. You knew not to touch it, since it secreted a numbing agent that made implanting the eggs easier.

“Now?” You asked.

“Not yet,” He said. “You’re not ready yet. Stand up.”

You obeyed, and he began to undress you. You started to help, but he said, “No, no, let me do it.”

You put your arms back down and let him peel your clothes off. And then he just looked at you.

“Stand still,” He said. “Stay quiet.”

You nodded, obeying.

“Good girl,” He whispered. “That’s my good girl.”

He started with your shoulders, letting his fingers run over your skin, down your arms, up your sides, caressing your breasts, down your belly, and reached one hand between your legs. You gasped.

“Shh,” He said. “Stay silent.”

It was a hard order to follow, as he touched your pearl and massaged it slowly, running a finger inside your slit as he did. Your breathing was uneven and you had to bite a finger, but you managed to be quiet.

“You can make all the noise you want soon,” He promised seductively. “I just want to test how good you can be for me.”

You nodded again, your body shivering at his touch.

He brought his face very close to yours, so that your lips were mere millimeters apart, but stopped short of actually kissing you. You could feel his cool breath on your neck and chest, and it made your heart race.

“You’re getting there,” He said, pushing a finger inside your entrance. You inhaled, but bit down on your cheek to stay silent.

“Good girl,” He said, pulling his finger out. "Lay face down on the bed and lift your ass up. Spread your legs open.”

You nodded again and followed his orders, doing exactly what he asked of you. He slithered up behind you and went back to touching between your legs with one hand, the other sliding up and down your spine. You felt him sink down and kiss your thighs.

“You can moan for me, darling,” He said.

You were happy to obey, and whimpered against your pillow as he licked a long stripe from behind, kneading your buttocks as he did. He moaned as he sucked on you, your legs shaking. He pressed his thumb into you as he sucked, and you thought you were going to cum. He stopped just before that happened, leaving you feeling desperate.

“Good,” He said. “You’re perfect.” He crawled over you from the back so that his face was next to yours and he kissed you. “Are you still sure about this? We can just have sex, I don’t have to breed you.”

“You want to, don’t you?”

“Don’t worry about what I want right now, are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes,” You simpered. “I want it. Give them to me. Please. I want them.”

He bit his lip, looked at you like you were something he wanted to eat, and grinned. “Good girl.” He went out of view then, and you felt his hands on your hips.

“Be still,” He said. “Let me in.”

You nodded, and felt the slim tube enter your body. The anesthetic began working immediately, so you only had a vague sensation of it pushing all the way in, penetrating your womb, and fixing itself there.

“Are you hurting, love?” He asked as he lay over you, putting his arm under your head so that you could lay on it and resting his body on top of you. Your hips were still in the air and your stomach wasn’t touching the bed.

“No, I’m okay,” You replied.

“Good,” He said, sounding a bit strained, his body tensing. His stuttering breath blew through your hair. “It’s starting.”

He grunted, but you couldn’t tell if it was in pleasure or pain. His breathing was sharp and punctuated as the egg moved down through the ovipositor and into you. You could feel a small swell in your stomach, but it wasn’t painful. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder and relaxed and shuddered, gasping.

“Did it hurt?” You asked.

“Not exactly,” He replied a little breathlessly. “It feels good, but it’s also a bit of work to push it out. Sorry this isn’t as sexy as you might have hoped.”

“Who said it wasn’t?” You replied, nuzzling him. “It’s like a special kind of foreplay. Besides, I’m really enjoying all the sounds that are coming out of you.”

“I can feel that,” He said, laughing. “You keep squeezing me.” He tensed again and started grunting, hugging you tightly.

“You’re doing great,” You told him.

“This is… harder than I thought it would be,” He said stiltedly. You could feel the sweat from his brow dripping on your skin.

“You can do it,” You said, kissing his arm as it gripped you and biting his thumb. “How many do you think there are?”

“I think three,” He said. He exhaled forcefully, and you felt another swell slip into you as he panted.

“One more, honey,” You said. “Deep breaths.”

He snickered, and then groaned. “Okay…” He said. He gripped you hard as the last one came and passed through. You were beginning to feel a full sensation in your belly and felt glad this was the last one.

Once it was out, the ovipositor retracted and he flopped onto the bed, gasping like a fish.

“Whoa,” He said. “Laying them in a person is way different than disposing of them.”

“How so?” You asked, moving to lie on your side so that you could touch him. He was clammy and cold.

“That felt great,” He said, looking over at you and smiling. “Like, it hurt a bit, but it felt like a small orgasm every time.”

“Probably a biological incentive to procreate,” You said, kissing his chest and neck.

He snorted. “Probably.” He looked at you with his eyes half lidded. “It’s going to be a few minutes until you get the feeling back down there. Why don’t you spend some time and play with me?”

“Is that an order?” You asked.

“Do you want me to punish you?” He asked.

“Maybe I’ll like it,” You said with a smirk.

He took you by the chin and made you look down at the second, larger cock, which was still erect and bobbing. “Touch me.”

You went down and sat astride his tail so that he could watch you take his cock in your hand, and begin to slowly pump it up and down.

“Hmm, that’s good,” He said with a satisfied sigh. “Let me know when your feeling comes back. We don’t want to waste time.”

“I will,” You said, stroking him. Your stomach felt tight, so you rubbed it as you touched him, drawing his eye. He watched you hungrily.

“I can’t believe you did that,” He said, smiling at you.

“We’re only half-way there,” You told him. “Don’t get too excited.”

He bucked his tail and nearly knocked you over onto the bed, making you shriek and laugh.

After a few minutes of teasing and touching and good-natured laughter, the feeling began to return. You started rocking on his tail to be sure, and realized that you were extremely sensitive.

“It’s back?” He asked

You nodded, pleasuring yourself against his body.

“Good. Lay down.”

You obeyed, and he moved to lay on top of you, his tail between your legs and his slit lining up with yours, kissing you deeply and rolling your nipples in his fingers. He pushed himself inside you as he kissed you, careful not to go too deep, as the ovipositor had made you a little sore. You rolled your body against his in time with his thrusts. You were so sensitive that you could already feel the crest of ecstasy beginning to wash over you.

“I love you so much,” He whispered against your skin. “I’m so happy.”

“I love you,” You replied, your hands in his hair as he moved inside you with purpose, precision. “I’m close. I’m so close.”

He stopped immediately, and you groaned shrilly, the sensation of denial sending a shiver up your back.

“Not yet,” He said, biting your lower lip. “Not until I say. Be a good girl.”

You nodded, panting and trembling, but your body was betraying you, writhing desperately against him, trying to regain the friction.

“Be still,” He said. “I’m not going to move again until you be still.”

You squealed in need, but you did your best to make your body stop clutching at him. It took a minute, but you managed to settle down.

“Good,” He said, slowly moving inside you again. “Good girl.”

“Cum inside me,” You begged. “Please.”

“I will,” He said, kissing you. “When I want to. Be patient and I’ll reward you.”

Your body was wound so tightly that you thought you were going to explode, practically vibrating underneath him. The sight of it made him grin.

“You’re so beautiful,” He said, licking your earlobe, still keeping the maddeningly slow pace. “Do you want it that bad?”

“Yes!” You groaned. “Yes, please. Errol, please.”

He thrust sharply, but not hard, and you nearly came undone. You cried out, about to snap like a string.

“Are you always going to be a good girl for me?” He whispered sinfully.

“Yes!”

“Do you promise me?”

“Yes!”

“Say it. Say ‘I promise.’”

“I promise, I promise, please!”

His thrusts became targeted again. “Beg me some more.”

“Errol, please! Please let me cum, please!” You cried. Every muscle, every nerve in your body was screaming for release.

“You can cum when I tell you to,” He said, though his movements were extremely efficient now. He was very good at drawing this out.

“I can’t take it, please!” You begged.

“One more time, say you love me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I love you! I love you so much! Please!”

From there, he wasted no time, slamming himself into you with speed. In no time at all, you were a screaming, shaking mess underneath him, thanking him over and over. The tension in his body and the sudden shout and moaning from him told you that he had reached his peak too.

“Not yet,” He gasped, rearing up. “I’m not done yet.”

He had leaned up so that he could look down at you and put his hand on your stomach, feeling the new hardness there. He kept going, pistoning against your body, snapping his hips against you, and rode the wave for a second time, all focus and concentration.

The both of you came one final time before he collapsed on the bed beside you, sucking in air as hard as you were. For a few minutes, all you could do was breathe.

After some time, he left the bed and went into the bathroom, and you heard the water in the tub running. You were barely conscious when he came back and lifted you out of the bed, taking you into the bathroom, and lay you down in the warm water of the bath. You were so tired and boneless that you could hardly raise your head, so he carefully, lovingly washed your body, paying special attention to your belly.

“Are you alive?” He asked after some time of sitting next to the tub, watching you drift in and out.

“I think so,” You replied, opening your eyes to smile sleepily at him. “Do you think they took?”

“We won’t know for a while. You should take it easy until then.” He smoothed the hair away from your face and stroked your cheek. “You’re going to have my babies,” He said, laughing a little.

“I hope so,” You said, taking his hand and kissing the palm.

“Eric is going to be pissed,” Errol said, snickering.

You snorted. “Honestly, I haven’t thought about him once today. This isn’t about him.”

Errol kissed you. “You’re right. It isn’t. It’s about us.” He lay his hand on your stomach and smiled gently. “All of us.”

Only one of the eggs took, but that was okay. Errol’s parents were overjoyed to learn they’d be getting a grandchild. Both you and Errol decided Eric could learn it on Facebook, like all the other strangers and acquaintances in your lives.

You took maternity leave so that you could pass your gestational time in relative peace. Errol fussed over you, making sure you ate properly and went with you to all your appointments. You made the decision to lay the egg at home instead of the hospital, and Errol’s sister acted as the midwife. It was the toughest work you’d ever done, and Errol was the best cheerleader you could have asked for.

Errol took paternity leave, like you had done, since he couldn’t leave the egg, anyway. He incubated the egg for the rest of the gestation period, curled up around it day and night. Errol’s son, Ewan, was born six months after being conceived, and within another year, you and Errol were married.

You often wondered if things had been different, if you had dated Errol from the beginning instead of Eric, if you’d be as overjoyed as you were at the moment. But then you figured that wondering about what ifs was a waste of time. You had a happy family to look after now, after all, and another clutch on the way. There was no time to worry about the past. The future was right in front of you.

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My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

[duhnova]

CONGRATS ON 100 FOLLOWERS!!! You definitely deserve it oml. I have not been this invested in a smau in a while.

I have a tiny request that I think my fellow Jaehyun enthusiasts will like (don't feel pressured to do this- it's totally okay if you don't want to)

Anyway- I was wondering if you could write a blurb/mini chapter from Jaehyun's perspective? Maybe what he thinks when he sees Johnny and Y/N together? Or just a general insight to his past and how that reflects his current emotions and standings towards relationships -🐼

every lie you type *blurb*

thank you so much! i haven’t been so invested in writing a story until i started “every lie you type” and i’m so glad so many people are enjoying it! I really hope that this blurb gives you a little insight into Jaehyun’s character!

* also i feel like i should remind everyone that Jaehyun is about 3 years older than everyone! currently he is 24 while everyone else is roughly 21/22

———

synopsis: A look into one of Jaehyun’s therapy sessions from when he was a senior in High school.

masterlist

word count: 580

“So Jaehyun, did you do the assignment I gave you last week?” The lady crossed her legs and propped up her notebook on her knee.

“Yeah.” Jaehyun sniffed a little, his voice hoarse. His hands shook as he handed his notebook over to his therapist. Gently she took his from his hands and smiled reassuringly.

“Do you mind if I read the latest entry?” Jaehyun shook his head, indicating she can read his inner thoughts.

The room fell quiet, the only sound coming from the clock on the wall. It’s ticking driving him crazy as his leg starts to bounce and he bites at his nails.

“So.” His therapist broke the silence after about 10 minutes. “I’m always impressed at how thorough and intricate your writing is.. But I am concerned.”

“About?” Jaehyun whispered, his voice trembling, he could never tell when he’s said too much.

“You talked a lot about Julia? Who is she?”

“Oh.. She was my ex.” Jaehyun looked into her eyes to search for what to do next. “She was a good girlfriend..”

“No she wasn’t Jaehyun..” His therapist sighed, and closed his notebook. “Based on what you wrote it seems she was manipulating and abusive.”

“No.. No she wasn’t abusive, she loved me.” Jaehyun tried to argue.

“That wasn’t love Jaehyun, if someone loves you they won’t hurt you like that.” Jaehyun’s eyes began to water, he only ever allowed himself to cry in front of his therapist.

“But I loved her..” Jaehyun whispered. “I knew she was bad for me but I couldn’t leave her. If I left her, who would love me?” He looked into his therapist's eyes, tears blurring his vision. “No one would ever love me.”

“Jaehyun, there are so many people out there who love you. What your parents did to you, what your exes have done to you.. None of it determines your worth in a relationship. You deserve more than what you’re giving yourself.”

“I don’t think I do, it’s no coincidence that all my relationships have turned to shit. Anna, Lia, Julia, all of them were bad.” Jaehyun rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of the tears.

“Jaehyun, I have another assignment for you.” She handed him back his notebook. “I want you to write a letter to all your exes, write about what they did to you and how it made you feel when it ended, and then I want you to rip them up and throw them away. Let go of your past and don’t ever look back.”

“I can’t do that. I can’t let them go.” Jaehyun gulped. “They’re in my mind, everyday and every night. No matter how hard I try to forget them, they’re always there.”

“This will be the start of letting them go Jaehyun, they might not disappear overnight but you’ll learn to forget them. But first you have to work on letting go of your feelings, and these letters will help you get everything out.” She wrote something down in her notepad and ripped it out to hand it to Jaehyun. It was a list of all his exes and even his parents' names.

“Why are my parents on here?” He looked up at her, his eyes bloodshot.

“They’re optional. I know they left your life years ago but there are still repressed feelings there and I think this exercise will help you let them go.” Jaehyun nods, his hands shaking again as he scrunches up the note.