#you’ve already reblogged this but the addition is golden | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sometimesanalice · 8 months ago

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Let's pretend it didn't take me X amount of months to respond to your truly lovely reblog because I did that thing where I hoarded it for too long.

I'm a taurus, it's not my fault! (but also I got more beads and will happily bribe you for your forgiveness with another custom friendship bracelet, lmaooo)

you, however, are an absolute gem and I'm so truly touched by the time and effort you put into your comments! they mean the world to me!

so more for youuuuu!

i could read a novel about bradley and sweet girl like i could read about them running errands and taking duck (“like quack!”) to the dog park and bradley taking her car to work.-- me being me would probably accidentally write you a full length one. "I can write this in under 5k" is code for "this will be 50k now"

i cried the first time i’m being so serious 💕-- stooooopppppppppp

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. - sweet girl getting the last laugh on this one-- she really is, lolol. Just imagine her all smug while he's fighting with the lever in her car trying to adjust the seat for his long legs, and she's just like getting comfy as the passenger princess reveling in her victory. He's all huffy like "not a word" 🤭

He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice. - this is so cute, i’m smiling so big (also man has a MENU and he needs his french bread 🫡 oui oui bitch)-- the YES CHEF of it all! Of course that cheeky man means in more ways than oneeee!

and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight. - thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthank - IT IS THE MENTAL IMAGE WE DESERVEEEEE!! you're the captain of the 5-inch inseam agenda, and Im just here to support the cause! lol

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. - i love every time you mention her parents! especially knowing about her mom’s wedding 🤭🤭 like bradley’s her kid too!-- it's such a crime I'd have to write that fic, because I want to read it too, lmao. Sometimes I feel like I mention them too much and it's repetitive, but I just really like how much history is there not just between them as individuals but with each of their families.

For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo. - DUCK LIKE QUACK 🦆 i love this dog so much and i can picture bradley making silly faces at him and getting him all worked out-- DUCK LIKE QUACK! endlessly amused that he never had a name change, one SG heard it she was SOLD. Like "it's FATE, bradley!" He'd be so proud to show him off to SG when he finally teaches him how to shake, like banging on about how their dog is a genius, lol

It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone. - YOUR SWEET BOY 🤭 i love this dog and his cute little name so much i want snugs with him and bradley (sweet girl’s two sweet boys)-- HER BEST BOYS! you just know bradley grins so wide when she comes home and is like "where are my best boys" when she gets home late from the office!

You step around the island and over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind him. He’s always been the right kind of warm, the kind that makes you want to melt into him. You press your face against his back, his shirt soft against your cheek. - this has me absolutely swooning 🤭 this is so sweet and tender and they’re so soooo into each other. also he is a human furnace--they're so smitten! And like SG would be the first to admit that she totally has a crush on her boyfriend, lol. They're both each other's safe places, so I think getting to come home knowing the other is waiting for them is one of their favorite parts of the day. like AH YOU FINALLY

The mental image of Bradley recording a video of your puppy being cute and playing in the park in the same way a proud dad would film his kid’s little league game makes you feel more than a little weak in the knees. - and that he specifically took them FOR HER has me feeling weak in the knees! THAT’S THEIR SON!!-- he knows she'd want to see it!! I love folding in moments that show just how much the other is on their mind, in that "i thought of you" way that shows how much they know and care about the other. But also you know seeing him like that sets her ovaries off and then she has to be like "chill, we haven't even been together a year yet" but also is excited about a future where one day they'd get to have that!

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.” - i know they love his show and i know they should be planning a trip to italy asap. and he can make real homemade meatballs with me since i don’t eat the tj’s ones anymore 💁🏼‍♀️💁🏼‍♀️--they take that trip to italy right after they swap some rings and promises of forever! 🤭🤭🤭

He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you. - makes me swoon, he’s so pretty in so many ways-- it's the competency kink in us! hahahahahah

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction. - 😮🤭 and then he slaps her ass!!!- HE IS SO CHEEKY! Just when she thinks she has the upper hand, he'll give it right back to her!

The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him. - this is one of my favorite parts about these two 🤭 ‘and bradley has the best personality”-- they're each other's favorite!

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?” - cheeky boy! i like that he doesn’t let this slide 😉-- he's such a tease for this, I love that he's like building up to it. I think he was originally waiting for her to bring it up, but then when he realizes that she doesn't realize what kind of sampler it actually is he is fully amused and leaning into it. He likes to tease her, but also that man is mentally like "one less thing for us to have to plan and one step closer to wife-ing her up"

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. - i just love this visual so much? there’s something about it that gives me butterflies-- she's so easily flustered! and he is so good about knowing when to tease and when to put her at ease. we know she's a bit of an overthinker too, so she's like running back the interaction with that and just cringing and embarrassed.

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. - this would totally get me too like i don’t want him to thinking i’m pushing him towards something? especially if they haven’t talked about it too much?-- He is so SURE about them, and she is too but when it comes to those big feelings she has about him she gets shy about how very real it is for her and just how much she wants forever with him. But she doesn't want to make him think that she isn't happy where they're at, and while she's always trying to be logical/practical with the timeline of their romantic relationship, she also wants to get to the part where she gets to be his wife.

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette. - okay i took later as ONE DAY not later that night 🤭-- BOTH HE MEANS BOTH!! it's just the perfect cover for him to actually be talking about their wedding day (but only he knows just how soon he hopes that gets to be 🤭)

while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior - oh it is absolutely deranged- A MENACE! He has a system like a wine tasting, starting with the lightest more mild flavor and working up to the richest so that the flavors don't get lost. BUT STILL

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged. - i giggled 🤭 like it is so sweet and reassuring especially with the verbal confirmation in a bit that they’re on the same wavelength-- he just KNOWS where as she HOPES, and he forgets that he needs to give a girl more than a hint sometimes. They're both dreaming about the same future they see with the other, but their approach is different. But I loved that chat where they reaffirm how in it they are!

He’s been in your life for almost three decades now. You’d known the boy, the teen, and you more than liked the man he’d become. You had absolutely no intention of ever letting him go. He was yours. Forever and always. - what’s another 6 decades for these two? “you more than liked” oh i love love love it-- SHE LIKES HIM AND SHE LOVES HIM! FAVORITES!

“But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.” - HELP!?! this is so sweet but so cheeky and everything i’d also want-- he's so ??!! like "Heads up sweet girl it's gonna be you and me", this man!! And for her, to know that she is WANTED by him like that! Especially after her past relationships, where she was always the one to give more of herself than she got in return, to have Bradley who cherishes her!

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips. - OUR WEDDING!!! i’m kicking my feet-- SWOOOONINGGGGGGG!! OUR WEDDING!!! I love how he just STATES it, like it's a fact.

You wanted to wear his ring on your finger just as much as you wanted to see him wearing one of his own one day. You liked your last name, but there was nothing more you wanted than to be Mrs. Bradshaw. It would be another thing you and Carole could share. A name and the everlasting love for her son. - GET OUTTE OF HERE WITH ALL OF THIS!?!!!? this is really too much and then knowing the story with the ring!?!-- LITTLE DOES SHE KNOWWWW!! She just wants him! But that there are things that she gets to share with carole (even the things she doesn't know about yet) mean that much more to her because of the special relationship they had!

He hadn’t been able to control the nervous bounce of his leg or his sweaty palms when he’d ask your mom’s permission for your hand in marriage. It hadn’t been any easier the second time, when he’d had to do it all over again with your dad that sunny day at the golf course. - BRADLEY!!! SO NERVOUS!! LIKE THEYD SAY NO!!! ugh he loves her so much and i love that he already asked them way before this lil incident!-- he's a planner! He wasn't going to miss his moment to ask them in person (when they haven't even seasoned together yet, lmao) He knows he doesn't need to do it, that they'd be happy for them regardless, but he respects and appreciates them so much that he wants that blessing and thumbs up.

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way. - LIKE GIVE ME YOUR HAND HERE IS MY HEART!!!-- it is! it is! it is such a central theme for them!

They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right. - and this being why he goes with the ring is so sweet and perfect and i KNOW sweet girl probably sobs when he tells her the background-- just imagine him stewing over this for weeks! that little furrow in between his eyebrows during his down time trying to figure out what to do when a second diamond falls in his lap! it being so representative of THEM with the how they came to be and wrapped up with the reason they even became friends is just SO MUCH!

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit. The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined. - my eyes filled with TEARS the first time i read this. i always love that even though i’m in the loop on so many things you still ALWAYS surprise me!!-- I think I was also surprised with this! There wasn't supposed to be a Bradley POV originally! But it just felt like having this peek into what is going on in his brain and in the background was just the little bow that was needed for this story! And I love it because there's been lines in other stories from SG's perspective where she says things about how Bradley always means what he says, but then we get to also see the ACTIONS he is taking behind the scenes too. Like his words MEAN MORE when we learn how serious he is about what he wants with her!

anywayssssssss, what new bracelet do you want for my fauxpas? lololol (thank you for this reblog, I loved it so much I didn't want to reply right away and then not have a reason to reread it, lololol)

Sweetest Devotion

Summary: Loving Bradley is the easiest thing you've ever done, and coming home to him is always the best part of your day. Especially when you come home with cake. But a slight mixup at the bakery leads to the sweetest of promises.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader

Length: 5k

Warnings: So much fluff (side effects may include giggling and kicking your feet)

(Author’s Note: this fic was written for my one year celebration of the ‘Like I Can’ series, but it can be read on its own!)

After a long week, there was no place you’d rather be than at home with Bradley.

The two of you have been living together for a couple of months now, but seeing his Bronco parked in the driveway of the condo you shared knowing the empty spot next to it is meant for your own still made your heart flutter out of sheer giddiness.

Even if he still teased you about your practical Honda Civic’s lack of street cred. But it did have a spacious backseat with its own set of doors and an actual trunk, unlike the Bronco.

And on the rare rainy days you got in San Diego, Bradley was asking to borrow your car rather than risk the interior of his big blue baby. Those days you just got to preen as you handed over your car keys to him. Sure, you could be the one to drop him off, but it was funnier watching the way he valiantly attempted to hold back his grimace as he tried to adjust the driver’s seat to comfortably fit his bulk.

As you pull into your spot, you’re hit with that same gust of summer breeze warmth you always are as you. It was a feeling you didn’t expect to go away any time soon.

It takes a bit of finesse getting the front door open with your work tote and purse slung over one shoulder while you cradled the paper bags of bread and box of treats you’d stopped for on the way home in the other.

Bradley had texted you to let you know that he was making dinner earlier, but had forgotten the bread during his grocery run and had asked if you didn’t mind making a quick stop to grab some. He’d promised to make it worth your while, and while you would have done it for him anyways, a little extra incentive was always nice.

Especially after the way he had teased you in the shower this morning.

You picked up the baguette that he’d requested along with a couple loaves of fresh bread for sandwiches that you were planning to stick in the freezer for later. At the checkout, they’d had a few fun pink bakery boxes packed with six individually wrapped cake slices in different flavors. It seemed like more fun than the basic red velvet cupcakes you had been debating as you waited for your turn to pay, so you’d picked up one of those boxes too. Since it was Friday, you figured a little treat was very much deserved after such a long week.

The two of you had just gotten back from a little trip back home not too long ago, but you were already dying for another vacation. Ideally one that involved creamy blended beverages served in coconuts and Bradley Bradshaw wearing some 5-inch inseam swim trunks with his thick thighs on display in the golden sunlight.

It had been so nice to see your parents and to visit the sights of your childhood growing up together. You’ve always gone home for holidays, but it had been years since he’d been there with you. Some things had stayed the same like the ice cream shop where Bradley had had his first job. And some things had changed with the times like the empty parking lot where he’d first taught you how to drive was now the site of an upscale organic grocery store. Now that you and Bradley were you and Bradley, the nostalgia of your younger years felt extra sweet as you’d strolled with his hand tucked yours.

It’s a miracle you get through the door without dropping anything.

You’re waiting to hear the scamper of little paws against the laminate floor headed your way as you kick off your heels, Duck was usually the first one to greet you when you got home.

The puppy was growing all too quick for your liking. For as much as Bradley grumbled about being woken up early on the weekends by the black and white ball of fluff, you’ve caught him on more than one occasion cooing at the dog and slipping him treats. The sweet, goofy little dog was the perfect addition to your dynamic duo.

Even if Bradley still got huffy about the name and how Duck had come to be in your life.

On the occasional night when Bob’s friend Casey from the animal shelter- the man you’d been on exactly half of a date with once close to a year ago- was invited to come hang out, your boyfriend always was finding reasons to stand a little closer to you or leave his hands lingering a little longer on your hips. Those nights usually end with the two of you sweaty and out of breath, tangled in the sheets of your canopy bed.

You can hear Bradley singing along with one of his playlists in the kitchen and the sounds of drawers opening and closing as you tuck your purse and tote under the side table at the entrance. You smile to yourself as you drop your car keys into the bowl where his are already resting, the keychain on the keys to his Bronco was the same one you’d given him when you were teens when Mav had gotten him the Montero for his 16th birthday.

Taking the bread and box of cake slices with you, you pass through the living room you see Duck passed out belly up on his Sherpa lined dog bed. His ears flopped out to the side and his little paws twitching as he dreams about chasing balls or squirrels. It’s a good think your hands are full or you’d be collecting even more photos of your sweet boy in addition to the hundreds you already had on your phone.

“I’m home,” you greet, rounding the corner to the kitchen, the savory smell of onions and garlic growing stronger the closer you get, “And I come bearing a baguette.”

Standing in front of the stove is Bradley with a checkered kitchen towel slung over his shoulder. His curls look a little damp, still drying from the shower he must have taken earlier. The soft looking shirt he’s wearing is pulled taut across his back, and the sweatpants he has on are hugging the curve of his ass in the best way. He looks so at ease and comfortable, none of the tense strain in his body that he sometimes comes home with.

Bradley looks over his shoulder towards you with a grin on his face, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” His pretty brown eyes rake over you in a way that has you wondering about just how he is planning on thanking you for picking up the baguette you’d stopped for. He lets out a low whistle, “Damn, I love that skirt on you.”

“I’m glad you clarified,” you say, sending him a wink and setting your bakery haul down on the island counter, “I wasn’t sure if you were talking to me or the armload of freshly baked carbs.”

He leans his hip on the side of the counter, “A little yeast and flour have got nothing on you, kid.”

“Now you know you can’t go around saying things like that an expect me not to fall in love with you,” you tease, opening the freezer to put the sandwich bread away.

“I’m failing to see a problem with that- oh shit,” he curses, hastily turning back to the stove to adjust the range knob as something spits and sizzles on the top of the convection cooktop.

“Hi, sweet girl,” he says, settling his big hand over yours, still stirring the sauce with the other. And you can almost see the easy, contented smile on his face just from the gentle tone of his voice.

“Hi, Bradley,” you hum, happy to be home.

“How was your day?”

“I’m glad it’s the weekend,” you say with a sigh, “The beach day tomorrow with everyone is going to be much needed.” A sympathetic sound rumbles from his chest as his thumb runs over the back of your hand. You were looking forward to sitting under the shade of the stripped umbrella and feeling the sand between your toes as you sip on an icy cold beer. “How was yours?”

“Not too bad, I took Seresin out and now he owes me $200. So overall, it’s been a pretty good day,” he says, clearly pleased with himself. “Cyclone let us out early, so I was productive. Did some errands, got the groceries. Well, most of them. I even took Duck to the dog park and let him run around for a bit. He made friends with a Great Dane, I took a few videos of them playing on my phone for you.”

Pressing up on your toes, you skim a kiss against the side of his neck and prop your chin on his shoulder to peer at what he’s cooking up.

“It smells really good in here,” you tell him, taking in the pot of sauce simmering away on the stove. Off to the side there’s a cutting board with some fresh basil chopped up and a pile of papery vegetable scraps and a couple empty cans of tomato sauce.

“Yeah? It’s been awhile since I’ve channeled my inner Stanly Tucci, so I thought some homemade spaghetti and meatballs sounded good.”

Your eyebrows raise on their own, the surprise evident in your voice, “Homemade meatballs?”

“Ok, maybe those came from Trader Joe’s,” Bradley admits, “But the sauce is all me. I even put the red pepper flakes in it the way you like it.” He reaches over for a handful of basil and adds it into the pot.

You send your thanks up to Carole for making sure her son at least had known the basics of cooking. He could more than hold his own in the kitchen, and the competent way he handled a chef knife in his big hands was endlessly attractive to you.

“‘Semi-homemade with Bradley Bradshaw’ has a nice ring to it, want me to pitch it as a reboot to the Food Network?” You feel the way he chuckles under your palms, the muscles of his stomach contracting and releasing.

“I don’t think I’d make it out with my liver intact. That woman loved her cocktails strong, I’m pretty sure her sangria recipe would send me to the floor,” he jokes, “No wonder why our moms were always watching her.”

“A woman after my own heart,” you sing, “I’m so glad I inherited such good taste from them.”

Bradley shakes his head amused, “The good news for you is that there’s a bottle of red open and waiting for you, funny girl.”

The promise of wine perks you up immediately. Pasta, wine, cake, and Bradley. What more could a girl need?

“God, you’re the man of my dreams.”

“I sure hope so,” he says, squeezing your hand.

“Oh, you are so getting lucky tonight, Lieutenant.” You take advantage of the way he leans his head back and laughs to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

You slide your arms back from around his waist, only managing to take one step towards the bottle of your favorite Cabernet Sauvignon that’s breathing over near the sink with one of your wine glasses set out next to it before you’re being stopped with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Hold up, where do you think you’re going, kid?” Bradley asks, tugging you back to him with a grin.

He doesn’t wait for your response before he is leaning in to properly kiss you for the first time since he left for work this morning.

At the press of his lips against yours, you feel every ounce of strain you’d been carrying from the day dissolve like melted sugar. A satisfied hum escapes you and you feel the way the corner of Bradley’s mouth ticks up at your reaction to him. His hands cup your face, tilting you head until it was at the perfect angle for him to deepen the kiss. You don’t even notice he’s back you up against the island until the countertop is digging into your lower back, too distracted by the way the coarse hairs of his mustache scrape along your upper lip.

If it weren’t for the sound of the timer going off the two of you might have almost would have forgotten about dinner entirely, it wouldn’t have been the first time it’s happened.

“Is there anything I can help with?” you ask, smoothing out the wrinkles of his shirt from the way you’d had it clutched in your fists just moments ago before letting go of him so that he can silence the beeping coming from the oven.

“You want to make us a salad to go with it?”

“Yes, chef,” you purr as you spin on your heel taking off in the other direction.

And really you should have expected the cheeky way his hand connects with your ass in a quick, sharp slap. You shoot him a glare over your shoulder, but he’s already facing the stove and stirring the sauce again as he adjusts the seasoning with a smirk.

You take a moment to pour yourself a glass of the wine Bradley had opened for you and take a sip. The bold, juicy flavor dancing across your tongue as you set about gathering the things to make a simple salad to go with the dinner he’s made for the two of you.

This is your favorite part of the day, when it’s just the two of you together.

The back and forth has always been easy with him. Whether it’s making dinner or running errands or doing laundry together. The things that always felt mundane on their own had become some of the things you most looked forward to during the week. It’s not that you need to be around him, but you always want to be around him.

When Bradley declares the sauce to be perfect, he comes and joins you at the island. Grabbing a cutting board of his own he starts slicing up the fresh baguette you’d picked up, offering you the end to snack on.

“Oh, what’s this?” he asks, picking up the box of assorted cake slices.

You continue chopping the cucumber in front of you, “Isn’t that fun? They had a stack of those at the checkout. I think they must have made too many cakes this week on accident, but it’s so smart of them so sell them that way. Why get one flavor when you can have six? Best of both worlds for everyone.”

“That so, huh?” he sounds amused by your enthusiasm, “Is there something else you wanted to talk to me about?”

It hadn’t been a particularly noteworthy visit, other than you’d been able to score a parking spot in front of the building, “Uh, not that I can think of?”

“You sure?” Bradley prods.

“No?... Oh! I was going to pick up that marbled rye you like while I was there getting the baguette, but they were already sold out. So I got a loaf of the multigrain brown bread and some sourdough instead.”

“Mmm, interesting.”

Stopping your salad prep, you look up at him skeptically, “Ok, why are you mmm-ing me, Bradshaw?”

Bradley’s eyes are alight with playful mischief as he slides the box of the cake slices towards you and pointedly double taps on the sticker on the upper right corner of the pink box with his finger.

You hadn’t stopped to read the shiny gold label when you’d grabbed it at the bakery, the tempting layers of cake and frosting and fillings had immediately sold you on it, but you couldn’t unsee what the curly scripted font said now.

Wedding Cake Sampler

“So, when’s the wedding? I’m assuming I’ll be invited,” he grins.

You feel your face get hot as you realize your mistake. It wasn’t just a sample box, but a very specific type of sample box. A very specific type of sample box for a very specific occasion.

Suddenly the interaction with the bakery employee as you were paying makes so much more sense now.

“Oh my god, the girl at the checkout said ‘Congratulations’ and I said ‘Happy Fri-yay’ back to her,” you groan, covering your eyes with your hands, “I thought she meant it like ‘Congrats on making it to Friday’ thing.”

He laughs, “Sweet girl, that’s about the damn cutest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Happy Fri-yay, Bradley! She was congratulating me on our- I mean- the nonexistent impending nuptials she thought I had and I reply to her that? We need to find a new bakery, I can’t go there ever again,” you lament. It’s truly a tragedy, since they have the best sticky pecan rolls in the area.

“And you call me a drama queen,” Bradley lightly teases, “She probably thought it was funny.”

You groan again, louder this time. If he was going to call you a drama queen, you’d at least try out your best Mariah Carey impersonation.

Your face is still hidden behind your hands when you feel Bradley gather you into his arms, running a warm hand up and down your back. “C’mon, it’s not even that bad. I’m sure I did at least three things more embarrassing than that today.”

“Yeah, I bet you did too,” you grumble into his chest without heat. The way he chuckles at your surliness lets you know he doesn’t take it personally. Not only is he getting laid, but you decide you’re definitely going to give him head too for being the sweetest man alive.

He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls the away from your face, “I gotta tell you, I’m glad it was just a little mix up. It would have sucked to find out my girlfriend had a fiancé I didn’t know about.”

You can see every shade of brown in his eyes as he looks into yours, the affection and amusement rippling there the same way the light catches the surface of a cup of coffee on a Sunday morning.

At this point you really do just have to laugh at yourself. It’s such a silly thing to get worked up about, especially since you know you’re probably more ruffled about Bradley potentially thinking that you’re trying to drop a not-so-subtle hint with it. And fact of the matter is that you still probably would have picked it up anyways, you just might have peeled off the incriminating sticker off in the car before bringing it in.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Bradshaw. I’ve got my hands more than full enough with you.”

“Yeah, you do,” he boasts, the insinuation is not lost on you.

You snort a laugh and shove at his chest lightly. He drops a kiss to the side of your head and makes his way back to the other side of the kitchen island as you get back to your salad making duties.

“Hey, just so you know, I can’t wait to eat wedding cake with you later,” he says as he continues to slice up the baguette.

You playfully toss a cucumber at him for his teasing and he pops in mouth with a grin.

A little later, when you have your steaming bowls of pasta in front of you at the dinner table, he raises his glass of wine to you, “Happy Fri-yay, sweet girl.”

And your laugh is as crystalline as the clink of your glass meeting his in cheers.

After the leftovers are put away and the dishes cleaned, the two of you are cozied up watching the new romcom that was just added on Netflix.

You’re stretched out across the couch with your feet in Bradley’s lap eating the cake you’d picked up. You try a bit of each flavor deciding which one you like the most to save it for the end, while Bradley takes his chances and eats one slice at a time before moving on to the next one. It’s truly unhinged behavior and you couldn’t help but tease him about it when you’d noticed his cake tasting methodology.

Bradley moans around a forkful of cake and you know he’s just found the carrot cake- his favorite.

He’s always been a bit of a pseudo health nut with questionable logic. “It’s got carrots and walnuts, it’s basically a superfood” he’s claimed on multiple occasions, while purposefully excluding the part about the pound of butter and cream cheese that goes into the frosting.

“I’d clear my schedule in heartbeat and take you to City Hall any day of the week as long as we get to have this carrot cake when we get married,” he says right before he licks the frosting off of his fork.

Your breath catches in your throat.

When, not if.

He says it so easily like there’s not a doubt in his mind that it’ll be you and him facing each other at the end of an aisle as vows about forever are exchanged.

He says it like a fact.

He says it like he knows.

“I didn’t realize I missed the part where you asked me,” you say, setting your plate on the coffee table in front of you, too full of the hope of it all to keep eating.

“And here I was waiting on you, kid,” he says playfully, taking another bite.

He’s teasing, you know he is. Bradley isn’t the type of man who would lead you on or play games with your heart.

“Bradley.” It’s an almost whine the way his name comes out of your mouth as you nudge his thigh with your foot. You turn your head to bury your face in the cushion of the couch, suddenly feeling very bashful.

The two of you have never talked about it, at least not like this before. Only in casual passing comments like getting a place with a bigger backyard for Duck or about setting up a joint banking account. A hypothetical future.

“Hey, c’mon. Look at me,” he coaxes, squeezing your foot. When you peek at him, the look on his face is all open sincerity, “You’re my forever girl. I love you and I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with you. That is, if you’re ok with that.”

A rush butterflies happily swoop and swirl around in your stomach.

“That’d be ok with me,” you tell him freely. You watch as his smile gets wider and broader until it’s taking up his whole face, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I think I could handle quite a few more decades with you, Bradley Bradshaw.”

“Is that so?” he drawls, his fingers skimming up and down the top of your calf.

“Oh, definitely. You’re stuck with me,” you grin.

“Good.”

He tugs your ankle, pulling you until your back is flat against the couch. You squeal in delight as he pins you down on the cushions, your arms and legs wrap around him on their own drawing him in even closer. Then he’s kissing every inch of your face that he can reach as you laugh in delight.

If it weren’t for Bradley’s sturdy bulk on top of you, you’re pretty sure you might have just floated away. You’ve never felt this incandescently light in your whole life.

He brushes one more quick kiss to the top of your nose before he pulls away, “But just so we’re on the same page, that wasn’t an official proposal. More like a declaration of intention.”

“I don’t know,” you muse, stroking his pink cheek, “Sounds like you’re desperate to wife me up, Bradley. Practically begging for me to take you to the courthouse.”

His hands go straight for curve of your waist, attacking that ticklish spot that’s always made you giggle and squirm. Only taking mercy on you once you’re out of breath. You’re almost positive that the smile on your face might be there permanently.

You don’t miss the intensity in Bradley’s eyes as they trace over your face as he settles himself more fully on you, “You don’t know the half of it, kid. But I’m letting you know now, I’m not going to make either one of us wait long for it.”

And then his mouth is on yours.

You feel the promise he’s making to you in his kiss. The caress of his hands along your body feels like a vow. You feel every ounce of just how much he loves and cherishes you. The cake was sweet, but his honeyed kiss tastes even sweeter.

“Tell me we can have carrot cake at our wedding, sweet girl,” he murmurs against your lips.

Our wedding.

The thought of it made you giddy.

“Ok, we can have carrot cake at our wedding,” you agree, wholeheartedly, “It’s basically a superfood, after all.”

“Damn right it is,” he beams.

The cake is quickly forgotten in favor of pulling your shirt over your head.

You might not have a ring. Yet.

But you did have a lifetime with Bradley and a carrot cake to look forward to. And that was more than enough for you.

Bradley was pretty sure that there was nothing better on this Earth than having you draped across his chest as you slept soundly in his arms. Your breathing had softened and evened out ages ago, but his mind was whirling with thoughts of his bright future with you.

He’d meant it when he’d told you he wasn’t going to make you wait long. Bradley didn’t know how much longer he could go on calling you his girlfriend when all he really wanted to call you his wife. He’s imagined you in a white dress walking towards him more times than he could count.

When he’d planned the surprised trip back to your shared hometown as a gift for your six-month anniversary, he might have had some ulterior motives. While it was nice to see the place you’d both grown up in again as adults, there had been a more pressing issue on his mind the whole time.

Bradley knew it was a bit of an antiquated tradition, but he’d never proposed to anyone before and he wanted to get it right. He wanted you and your parents to know just how serious he was about his intentions to love you for the rest of his life. He’d even asked Mav for his blessing too, just to make sure he had his bases covered.

It had thrown him through a loop when at the end of the trip you mom had slipped him the ring she’d worn while she was married to your dad. She’d told him there was no expectations or pressure to use it, she just wanted him to have it just in case.

The engagement ring his mom had worn had been tucked in the back corner of his nightstand for almost four months now. Bradley had pulled it out of storage sometime around the third month of officially dating you. It would be too soon for anyone else, but he’s already had decades with you. And he’d never been more sure about anything in his life as he was about knowing you were the one for him.

The two of you had always been perfectly right on time in your own way.

He’d dwelled on it for weeks trying to figure out if he should give them both to you at once. Or if he should propose to you with one and save the other to you during another monumental moment, like when the two of you started a family. He’d heard about push presents. He figured could turn one into a necklace or something for you.

Bradley could feel the presence of both rings every time he walked into the bedroom. They were both equally were important to him, he wanted to get it right.

His mom had known and loved you, he knew that she’d have been so excited to see her ring on your finger. And after his mom had passed, yours had helped him during those rough days in ways he didn’t think he could ever properly thank her for. Even though your parents’ marriage hadn’t worked out, they were the reason that you were here and he couldn’t imagine his life without you.

It wasn’t until Natasha had shown him the Toi et Moi style ring that things locked into place in a way that made his heart race at the very idea of it.

The right ring for the right girl.

He lets his fingers trail up and down your back gently as you slept soundly against him.

In the kitchen earlier that night, he might have bent the truth about his day just a little bit.

The final design had been sent to his email that morning. And it was more perfect than he could have imagined.

He did win $200 from Jake and had gone to the dog park with Duck, but he’d also stopped by the jewelers across town to give them both of the family heirlooms because he didn’t want to waste a single minute.

Two diamonds, one ring. The start of you and him. A story of your beginnings to be worn on the finger that would tie him to you with a golden thread for the rest of your lives together.

He’d even paid extra to have it engraved.

My sweet girl. My forever girl.

I genuinely thought I was one and done after I wrote my first fic in December of last year. And then came these two. 'Like I Can' was meant to be a oneshot that turned into a 3-part series that turned into half of my masterlist. I adore this couple with my whole heart. Thank you for reading along and celebrating with me!

Elle (@callsignspark) thank you for sending me the TikTok that inspired the headcanon about the wedding cake sampler, I'm showering you with shiny 'thank you' shaped confetti! And another big thank you to Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for getting as giddy about these two as I do and for always enthusiastically reading the snippets I send you! You both are the best!

If you enjoyed these two, you can read their story from the start here!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

#ily but you know that!#thank you for reading and reblogging!#the babe with the forever girl

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thetravelerwrites · 2 years ago

Text

Birch (Part 2)

Rating: Mature Relationship: Female Human/Male Centaur Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Centaur, Social Communication Disorder, Autism, Semi-Verbal Autism, Reader Insert Content Warnings: Verbal Abuse, Emotional Abuse, Size Difference, Overbearing Mother, Anxiety Disorder Words: 4491

Hazel attempts to get used to life on the farm and winds up spending time with Birch, only for one of Birch's casual lovers to arrive at the farm unannounced. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

The farmhouse was massive, three stories at least, and the barn beyond it was even bigger. There were already people out in the fields, watering and weeding the rows, though they stopped and came closer when you arrived. You’d seen many of them, including the humans and Yew, the other centaur and Birch’s brother. However, the cervitaur, the large reddish bat with a blunt snout, the huge black bat with a fox-like face, and the boy with a dog body from the waist down were a shock. There was also a golden harpy perched on the roof, staring down at you quizzically with a young kitsune on her back.

“Here we are,” Ryel said, jumping down and turning to help you slide off Birch’s back. “Everyone, this is Hazel. I’m not going to introduce all of you at once because I don’t want to overwhelm the poor dear, so make sure you introduce yourselves in your own time. Give her some space, though; this is all very new and strange for her. She has trouble with her words, so don’t badger her with questions, either.”

There were murmurs of welcome, and you nodded acknowledgement.

“Is this the young lady you wouldn’t stop talking about, brother?” Another centaur asked, a lop-sided grin on his face. This was Yew, Birch’s brother, who had dark skin and black and white fur.

Birch cuffed his brother on the back of the head. “Don’t say unnecessary things!”

“Mama! Birch hit me!” Yew complained in a mocking voice.

“Stop it, you two,” Ryel said, pulling both of their wrists. “Having a new lodger is no reason to act like fools.”

“Don’t stand around gawking,” Birch said, waving his siblings off. “You’ve all got work to do, don’t you?”

A few of them snorted at their younger brother ordering them around, but they dispersed. The giant black bat came forward propelled by his long, winged arms, using them in a similar way as crutches, and stopped in front of you.

“I’m Declan, Ryel’s husband,” He said, his voice as deep as a cavern. “Welcome to our home. I understand you have some communication problems, but don’t be afraid to come to me or Ryel if you need anything. We’re happy to have you here.”

You nodded, staring at his fuzzy belly. He looked really soft, but the thought of asking to touch his fur made your ears turn red.

“Now,” Ryel said, putting her arm around your shoulder. “How about a tour?”

You nodded.

“Go find something to do, Birch,” She said, waving a dismissive hand at her son, who had been hovering. “She’s in good hands.”

“I know, I know,” He said with a laugh. He patted your head before turning to follow the others. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Come on, lass, let’s get you settled in and look around,” Ryel said. “There’s a couple of things I’d like to show you.”

Ryel led you into the house, and you were startled to see that the first floor was completely open with no walls, except for a semi-closed off washing area close to the back doors and a curtained-off bedroom on the opposite side you assumed was for Declan, since he seemed too large to climb the stairs. The majority of the first floor appeared to be mostly made up of a kitchen, pantry and larder, and dining area complete with two large tables, a tall one for the four-legged folks and a short one, low to the ground, for the two legged folks. Neither table had chairs; it seemed that the family were meant to either stand while eating or sit on the ground around the low table. The only chair you saw was a raised one for small children to sit in.

She showed you to the third floor, where most of the two-legged sleeping quarters were, and into the ladies’ guest quarters, which had four cots and a chest at the foot of each bed for personal items, much like a barracks. Since there were no other guests at the time, you could choose your own bed, and you chose the one right next to the wall and farthest from the window.

Once you’d put your belongings away, she showed you to the second floor where the working rooms were. There was a room for sewing, a room for woodworking, and a room for candle-making and other types of wax-work.

“This is the sewing room,” Ryel said, leading you inside. “We don’t do too much fiber work here on the farm beyond spinning and knitting, but we do make most of our own clothes. For those of us who wear clothes, that is. Just so you won’t be surprised: the four-legged and fur covered kids often don’t wear clothes and Lymera, our faun, likes to be nude more often than not. She’s not here at the moment, though; she’s gone to the Temple for training.”

In the middle of the sewing room was a big loom, almost like a centerpiece. It was beautiful and well-built out of a dark wook and you were drawn to it immediately. Ryel saw you eyeing it.

“We were gifted this a few months ago, but honestly, we’re not sure what to do with it. Many of my girls, and quite a few of my boys, can spin and knit and sew, but none of us have the faintest idea how to use this. You wouldn’t happen to know how to use it, would you?”

You nodded enthusiastically. This was one thing you knew very well, since your father ran a textiles shop. Looms of every kind were squarely in your wheelhouse.

“Wonderful!” Ryel said, patting your shoulder. “This is all yours, then, lass. We’ve got more than enough thread, yarn, and dyes, so you can get started whenever you like.”

You smiled and pet the frame of the loom, eager to begin.

After that, she took you back outside to see a cave nearby the house, the entrance of which was hidden behind a fallen, hollow tree. Ryel told you it had originally been her’s and Declan’s home for years before they began taking in children and needed bigger accommodations. The cave now served as storage for their preserved and jarred foods that needed to be kept in a cool, dark place to prevent premature spoiling.

Then she led you to the barn, which was housing for the larger and four-legged family members. The middle of the barn was mostly empty space with a large table in the center between the support beams with several long benches on either side. This place seemed to be the social area for the entire family, since open books and small, half-finished handy works were laid out on the table.

There were six stalls on each side of the barn, each with a large stall door that had been modified to allow privacy; the interior of the stalls were more like bedrooms than stables, with leaning beds or nests, bookshelves, and side tables. At the moment, Birch, Yew, Toklo, Reed, his wife, and their children lived there, with the kids having one of the stalls to themselves. All of the others were open and empty.

Above the stalls were lofts that served as additional accommodations for when the main house was at capacity; apparently the farm hosted travelers regardless of weather or season, and often took in people who were in dire straits, refugees and other folks desperate to escape terrible situations, and the family never turned away a person in need.

Behind the barn was a much smaller open-air stable, where the livestock of guests were kept, and behind that was a smithing shed and a tanning shed. A short walk away brought you to a river where they pulled their water. There was a strange device on the side of the river Ryel had told you one of her children, Cetzu, had invented for irrigating the crops.

Once the tour was done, it was time to begin cooking the evening meal. You knew a bit about cooking, so you were invited to come in and assist with preparing dinner, and considering how large and open the first floor was, there was little chance of being underfoot. Thankfully, the others took Ryel’s words to heart and didn’t ask you too many questions except when necessary, and they were all unfailingly polite.

It was a hot day, so the family decided to eat dinner in the barn, to escape the heat of the kitchen in the house. The barn had large double doors on either side of the building as well as large frameless windows in the upper portion near the lofts, so the summer breeze wound freely into and out of the building. After laying out the food and putting some cushions down so that the four-leggeds could kneel down, they all sat and began to dish out the plates.

There were quite a large number of people around you that you didn’t know and had no interaction with, which made you feel a little uncomfortable and self-conscious. It helped that you were in an open space with clear exits, but you weren’t used to this much exposure to other people. It also helped that the food was meant to be eaten by hand, so there were no grating sounds of utensils against plates, which is one thing that made you incredibly anxious.

Reed’s wife, Yala, began to address you in a friendly tone. She was a chubby young woman with reddish-brown hair and pretty doe-brown eyes, sitting directly across from you at the table.

“Since you have trouble talking, are you okay with just some yes or no questions?”

You nodded.

“Oh, good,” She said, wiping bits of food off of her youngest child’s face. “Are you liking it here so far?”

You nodded again, passing a plate of corn-on-the-cob to Toklo, who was sitting next to you. Instead of taking it, he raised his hands straight up into the air and leaned backward as if the plate was on fire. You recoiled in surprise.

Yew, who was on his other side, reached around him and took the plate instead. “Don’t worry about him. He’s almost completely a meat eater usually, but he also has trouble with touching certain things. Corn is one of the things that makes him uncomfortable.”

You made a soundless “oh” with your mouth, trying and failing to apologize.

“It’s fine,” He said, bringing his arms back down and accepting a plate of boar’s meat from you. “I’m just weird.”

“It’s not weird,” Ryel said.

“No, it is,” Toklo said. “Normal people aren’t scared to touch things.” He didn’t sound sad or self-deprecating. He just seemed like he was stating a fact. “Corn feels like teeth, and I don’t like touching teeth. I keep thinking they’ll bite me. I know that’s a silly thought, but I can’t help it.”

That made perfect sense to you, but you understood that others might find it odd. You had a similar issue with wool and anything that had a weird fuzz that didn’t seem like it should be there, like the fuzz on peaches.

You remembered Birch had mentioned that Toklo was the one who had no filter and was unable to prevent himself from saying whatever crossed his mind. You wondered what that must be like. Is that part of why he never went to town? Besides the fact that you’d never met a person like him, having the lower half of a dog, his problem with his speech might also make meeting people and making friends difficult. He was the first person you’d ever met with which you felt something like a kinship.

“Mama told me you know how to use the loom, is that right?” Yala asked. You nodded. “Oh, that’s great. Honestly, it’s been gathering dust in the sewing room for months. We were contemplating giving it to someone else, but we didn’t know who could use it, and since it was a gift to us, it would be in bad taste to give it away.”

“Not to mention what we could save on clothes,” Declan said, gesturing to his unclothed, fur-covered body, and the table laughed.

You’d come to like Declan in particular in the short time you’d been there. He had an innate, effortless way of making people feel at ease around him. Maybe it was magic, or perhaps it had to do with his monstrous size that forced him to develop such a skill so as not to scare away every person who came near the farm. It also definitely helped a lot that he had the sweet, inquisitive face of a fox.

The next day, you met Birch by chance when hauling up some washing water from the river.

“Here, let me take that for you,” He said, reaching for it. You handed it to him. “I’m glad I ran into you, actually. I know Mama is planning to teach you to read and write, but I know some simple hand signs that a friend of the family taught me. I could teach you, if you’d like. It might help you communicate better, even if it’s only with the family.”

You looked up at him, pleasantly surprised, and you nodded your head fervently.

“Great!” He said, smiling at you, the lopsided dimple in his left cheek very prominent. “Let’s meet up again after lunch, alright?”

You nodded again and managed to give him a smile, and he ruffled your hair with a grin.

“I like that smile,” He said. “I hope I get to see it more often.”

You blushed and looked away, covering your face.

He chuckled as the two of you reached the porch. He set the water bucket down on the wood and gave you something like a salute.

“See you in a while,” He said and trotted off, his tail flicking playfully. You watched him go for a moment, and continued with your chores.

Later, you met him in the small orchard near the stables. The orchard was in a circle formation with a clearing in the center for, as Birch said, lounging. He lay his horse body down on the grass and placed a blanket for you to sit on.

“Okay, let’s start with something simple,” He said. “Hello.” He folded the thumb of his right hand against his palm and pressed the other fingers flat, touching it to the center of his chest and drawing outward without turning his hand. You copied him. “Good. Let’s try food.” He pressed his fingertips together and tapped them twice against his chin. “If you combine food,” He repeated the gesture. “And throat,” He drew the tips of his thumb and pointer finger down his neck. “It means ‘hungry.’”

You repeated the gestures, both for “food” and for “hungry,” and Birch praised you.

“Let’s try ‘help.’” He curled the fingers of both hands, crossed them over his chest, and waved them as if scratching, and you copied him.

The lesson spanned about an hour, and at the end, he quizzed you on the signs you’d learned. You were able to remember most of them and were pleased with the outcome. You couldn't sign full sentences, you discovered, the signs were more a means of conveying simple emotions and immediate needs rather than for carrying on a conversation. Despite that, you felt as if you had more access to others than you had before.

“You’re doing really well,” Birch said, ruffling your hair again. “Let’s do this twice a week, okay? And practice with the family, too. Practicing makes it easier to remember, and everyone in the house can understand the signs, even if they don’t possess the digital dexterity to perform them, like Declan.”

You nodded and signed thank you.

He grinned. “Ah, it’s nothing. If you run into a sign you need but don’t know, come and find me and I’ll help, alright?”

You nodded again and smiled.

He smiled softly at you. “I’m glad you came to stay here,” He said. “I was worried about you.”

You looked at him in surprise, unsure of how to respond. Was he just flirting with you, or was he being genuine? Both? What did he have to gain by telling you this?

You pointed at yourself and made the sign for “happy.”

His smile widened, his eyes gentle. “I’m glad. I was a little worried we’d forced you to do something you didn’t want.”

You shook your head.

“That’s good, then.” He held out his hand to help you to your feet and plucked up the blanket, standing. “Harvest will be coming up in a month or two,” He said as the two of you walked back to the farmhouse. “It’s the time of year when the farm gets really busy, but I’ll try to keep our lesson schedule as well as I can.”

You signed “yes” to show you understood.

The weeks went by, and you were having a wonderful time. You spent a lot of time in the sewing room, weaving, and the fabric you made was sold for you in the surrounding towns, which allowed you to earn your own money for the first time in your life.

After a month of writing lessons with Ryel and Declan, who you learned was a voracious reader, you’d learned enough that you were able to write your name and some simple words, and wrote your first letter to your mother and sent it with Birch on one of his frequent trips to town. It wasn’t more than, “I’m alright. I love you.” But it would be enough to satisfy your mother and prove to her that you were doing well. You hoped.

Most of the human women often gathered in the sewing room to work when there was no work for them in the fields, so you almost always had company. To your surprise, Kurra, the gnoll, was also quite a deft hand at knitting, though he wore no clothes himself, and he seemed to enjoy spending time with his sisters more than spending time with his brothers. The only human that didn’t work in the sewing room was Ryel, who said she had no patience for such things, preferring tasks that required a hammer and axe rather than a needle and thread.

They were friendly and helpful and they didn’t pressure you to communicate, but they were careful to include you so that you didn’t feel isolated or left out. If there was only one person in the room with you, they were happy to work in silence in close proximity, and you felt more comfortable in their presence.

As you became more at ease on the farm, you found you were able to say a bit more verbally than you had before. It wasn’t more than a word or two at a time here and there, but it was more than you’d managed to do since arriving at the farm.

In addition to the weaving and typical house chores, you also had reading lessons with Ryel twice a week, and signing lessons with Birch twice a week. The signs that Birch was teaching you helped a lot in interacting with everyone, and you felt a great deal of relief. Before, the only person you interacted with was your mother, and she wasn’t the most talkative or understanding, so you felt closed off from other people, as though locked away in a closet. The ability to write and sign had opened the door a little, giving you a greater sense of freedom.

Strangely, it seemed like Birch had run out of signs to teach you, but the lessons still continued. You weren’t complaining, since you enjoyed the time you spent with Birch, but it did strike you as odd. He said one or two things that might be considered flirty, but he came across as sincere most of the time. He never made a move on you, though, and you figured you just weren’t his type. He’d never really been picky in the past, but you could understand him not wanting you. Besides, even if he did, you didn’t want to just be a fling, either, as much as you adored him.

You were still attracted to Birch. Being close with him like this hadn’t done anything to quell those feelings; on the contrary, your affection for him grew and grew the more you got to know him. You couldn’t lie to yourself anymore and insist that it was just an infatuation. You were in love with him. Hopelessly, helplessly in love. And you knew you were going to be hurt by it, but you couldn’t help it.

At the beginning of the next month, right as harvest was due to start, guests arrived at the farmhouse for the first time since you’d been there. Guests were a normal occurrence, you were told, but it had been a slow season, since the heat of summer was nothing short of oppressive and not many people left home in this heat if they didn’t absolutely have to.

A caravan of covered wagons came up the trail, and everyone set down their work to welcome them. Apparently, they were well known to the farm folk, since a lot of the family smiled and waved in welcome, going to give many of the newcomers hugs and kisses on the cheeks. Despite welcoming guests at all hours, the family was actually quite reserved and guarded around outsiders until they got a better sense of their intentions and personalities.

“Birch!” A woman called from the driver’s box of the leading wagon.

“Layla!” He called, cantering over. She launched herself from the wagon at Birch, who caught her, and they kissed full on the mouth.

You felt gutted, watching them. You knew you had no right to feel jealous, since Birch had shown you no romantic interest, and you hadn’t expressed yours, either, but it still cut you to your core.

“Welcome!” Declan called. “You folks are just in time! We’re due to start the harvest in a few days. How long do you plan to stay?”

“We were thinking a week,” Layla said as Birch put her back on her feet. “Sorry, big guy, we’ve got some cargo to run from Dunmountain to the coast, so we won’t be here for the whole thing, but we can help out for the first few days.”

Declan chuckled. “Any help is better than no help. We appreciate the extra hands, as always.”

“Are the lofts empty?” Layla asked.

“Sure are,” Ryel replied. “So are the guest rooms.”

“Ah, you know me,” Layla said with a grin. “I like the open air.” She looked at Birch and winked. His grin widened.

“If you say so,” Declan said. “Come along and let’s get you settled in. Most of the daytime chores are done, so there’s not much to do until dinner.”

Everyone went their separate ways to do this and that, and Birch passed you on his way to the barn. He stopped and studied your face for a moment.

“Alright?” He asked.

You swallowed down your discomfort and nodded. “Strangers,” You signed. “Nervous.”

“Ah, I see.” He ruffled your hair. “Don’t be nervous. They’ve been coming ‘round the farm for years now. They’re good folks.”

You nodded again, and he tweaked your nose before trotting off.

Layla, Toklo informed you later, was one of the many infrequent lovers of Birch’s. She came to the farm around three or four times a year, and they’re trysts lasted only the amount of time she stayed at the farm. Toklo told you not to worry, since Birch always took his ladies away from the farm to have his fun, so you wouldn’t have to hear it. That didn’t make you feel better.

You decided not to bother them while Layla was at the farm, and instead stayed up in the sewing room to weave. The tedious repetition of the loom helped you take your mind off things.

The second day of Layla and her caravan’s stay, the family went down to the river to haul up water for washing and the caravan slept in. The jars for this year’s canning needed to be cleaned and prepared for when the fruit and vegetables were picked and pickled.

You’d finished a full section by midmorning and took the fabric downstairs to be washed and dyed when you saw them together from the porch. You didn’t want to watch them, as not only did it hurt, but it was an invasion of his privacy, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away.

“You’ve gotten taller, I swear,” Layla said. “Look at all the muscle you’ve built since I last saw you.” She slid her hands up his arms and over his bare chest, her long nails dragging across the skin. Most of the non-humans didn’t wear clothes while on the farm, and Birch was one of them.

“Oh, yeah?” He said, bending down and pressing his fingers into her buttocks, pulling her body sharply against his, picking her up so that she could wrap her legs around his torso. She squealed. “How about I show you how well these muscles work tonight? Since we didn’t get to play last night.”

She giggled, pressing her breasts against him. “The clearing?”

“That’s our place, isn’t it?” He said in a low, sultry tone, kissing her collarbone. That kiss was a stab to the heart.

She bit her lip and jumped down off of him, pulling him down for a deep kiss, their tongues mingling. “I can’t wait, big boy. It’s been way too long.” And she trotted off.

He watched her go, smiling, and turned to see you standing there. At first, his smile widened and he started to approach, but after he’d had a moment to absorb the look on your face, your trapped and anxious demeanor, the tear sliding down your cheek, the smile slipped from his mouth and the color drained out of his face. He looked horrified. You could only imagine what your expression showed; whatever he saw on it disturbed him, sure enough, and why wouldn’t it? Why wouldn’t he be disgusted to learn that someone like you had feelings for him? Why wouldn’t he be horrified to see someone he took pity on watching his private moments with a lover? You would likely be horrified, too.

“Hazel…” He said, taking a step forward, reaching out a hand toward you.

You came out of your trance and your feet unrooted themselves; you turned and fled inside.

“Hazel, wait! Please come back!” You heard him call after you, his voice desperate, but you couldn’t look at him and didn’t want to be near him at the moment. As you launched yourself up the stairs, you heard a sharp CRACK sound, as if he’d kicked something hard enough to break it, and you also heard him loudly exclaim, “FUCK!”

The last glimpse you caught of him was from a window in the hallway, passing several of his siblings as they rushed out to see what the noise was. There was a cut on his back leg and he had his head in his hands.

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider buying me a Kofi, becoming a Patron, or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Centaur #Reader Insert #Autistic Reader #Semi-Verbal Reader

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 20)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

EARLY CHAPTER FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT. THIS SHOULD’VE BEEN POSTED ON SATURDAY BUT I DECIDED TO DO A DOUBLE UPDATE FOR ONE WEEK! EXPECT CHAPTER 20.1 ON SATURDAY! *wink wink*

CHAPTER 19

WOTN MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Maybe the curse has its own purpose for whatever fate you had with the witcher. Sensible responsibilities and a tie that has been knotted together with him that will surely affect both of your lives when chaos arrives.

Warnings: A kiss? (Unless y'all don't want to kiss Geralt so this can be a warning?) Curse words. Humans being judgemental bitches? Sweet, soft and protective Geralt? Petty, emotional reader? (She'll continue to be because of...reasons. Hehehe.) Eanraig asking personal questions. LMAO. Mention of Sylvan and Yennefer of Vengerberg.

Words: 5.3k

A/N: Early update for y’all! Double update for this week! Expect an update at around saturday or sunday! Heehee! FEEDBACKS WILL BE NICE TO SEE! MWAH! I still haven’t written the lost chapter for WOTN. There’s going to be a lost chapter that should’ve been in between chapter 16.1. I’ll write it soon. Heehee!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue! PLEASE LEAVE FEEDBACK AFTER READING, BB! This is kinda a rough draft. I apologize for many errors.

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and this fanfic is definitely from moi. Character development and personalities are based from my understanding and how I want them to be.(Credits to those who made the GIF’s. Some don’t have their watermarks included. I don’t remember where I’ve saved the others from)

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

Being in the arms of a person you were finally realizing that you eventually loved gave a different kind of bliss rather than the sensual moments that you both had.

Knowing that you were in love with him---a divulgence that you have no plan of saying yet; for the fear of it being unrequited was keeping you back.

You weren't going to tell him your secret yet. No. Especially when you have been thrashed and battered; bleeding with their purpose for any truth to spill or lies that they wanted to hear.

Were you finally meeting heaven? Geralt has said words that you never expected him to; calling you his betrothed when there was no disclosure or label onto what relationship you both had.

Perhaps, he needed to claim you in that endearment because he was being threatened by the king? In order for you to live, he must be having a tight relationship with you or a reason that King Viduka can convince himself that you shouldn't be slaughtered.

They needed your witcher and Geralt has outsmarted them by telling that you were both engaged; his soon-to-be wife that you know has not been serious enough to say.

"Geralt," you meekly whispered, your breath hitting his neck with arms enveloping his shoulders as he carried you around the castle; it was a murmur that the knights weren't capable of catching while they guided you to where your temporary room will be.

"Where are they taking me?" a simple tremble of your throat gave Geralt a hint that you've been carried to places and rooms where they have hurt you; a place that they chose to clobber your innocent soul, "---Are they going..to hurt me again?"

There has been a usual hum that you managed to memorize from the witcher, hearing a disgruntled 'hmm' from the affronted question like he didn't like hearing the idea of his midget being rained blows on, "To a much more comfortable place than being held captive in the dungeons,"

"Did...Did you sealed a deal with the king? H-How will you find the witch who cursed the prince? you shouldn't have done it because I heard her location being undetected---"

The white wolf cut you off with a simple, frank honesty of his words; risking the hunt instead of letting them think of other ways for your sufferings. Never wanting another painful venture that would make his thoughts suffer in the end. He'd taken the chance of finding the witch rather than having the possibility of a fight with thousands of knights nor an attempt to let you escape from hundreds of horsemen out in the open.

"There was no other choice."

Your arms tightened around him when they've guided you both to take a turn, feeling more protected in his arms. Hence, the action made Geralt keep you closer to him afterwards; making you sadly smile from his hold because it felt farcical to even think that he was doing this for you out of such love that you were sure of feeling for him.

You could feel that this comfort you're feeling had repercussions based on what that sorceress has described him and from what future she sees if he'd really pick you.

Yennefer of Vengerberg was still out there. Geralt will surely pick a woman who wouldn't get to die easily because you were a mortal. He'd just give himself such dolor because you'll die first than him or better yet, you could be killed by anyone who wants you dead with just a snap of your head because of being vulnerable to their eyes and to their world; knowing nothing but to strive just like how normal people live on earth.

"You've done enough for me already. You should've just left me alone to die and protect Cirilla like how your future is planned---I probably shouldn't be even in your life, Geralt."

You could feel his golden eyes boring holes on your face because of the sudden principle you've plainly stated, the sound coming out of your nose like a faithless lie you abruptly believed in. His marches turned heavier with each step upon hearing your judgement. With a subtle shift of your eyes away from his chiseled face, your mouth fell into a tight frown just like how his tightened when he looked front as he walked.

"That's never going to happen, midget." the witcher gruffly grumbled, "---You saved Cirilla. You've given the bard a chance to move on from that hideous person he had,"

You didn't save anyone. You've only done what was right by being transported into a world that you didn't belong in. Your mouth was about to open when he'd quickly clipped a short additional comment that shut your mouth from the moment it was heard---your heart jumping in the exact time he was having his steps.

"---and you also saved me,"

A sarcastic snort concealed the rushing beat of your heart; not thinking it through and never believing the opinions inside your head. Choosing the pessimist side of your brain that kept you from trusting what your heart wanted to feel.

"From what? from keeping you silent? I'm just giving you a headache, I have been a complete burden to you,"

"No. You're wrong." you've shifted your eyes to see his forehead creased in the deepest wrinkle it can form, simply telling you that he was upset in a trice when it was a truthful answer.

Your attention went straight to the side of his face; narrowing your eyes at a fresh scar that weren't there the last time you've seen him---fingers aching to caress his disfigurement and having thoughts inside your head that he'd been hurt from his latest hunt with a monster. Digits stayed where they are, clasping them tighter with your own as you clung to your witcher.

Taking a dim view of his lour, his teeth was clenched tight as he fell silent---appearing to look like he wanted to say more but chose to keep it all to himself.

"Do not trust the sorceress or the queen. Just trust me, Eanraig and no one else in this castle,"

"Eanraig. He's the person who treated my wounds. Who is he?"

"A druid. A Scholar of the forest. Trust no one but me or him, understand?" he stated firmly as he ceased his steps, standing before a fairly large double, wooden doors whilst the gallants unlocked them. Geralt's words were left in a soft mumble that you didn't realize he would be competent of, sounding like he was giving sheer comfort over his undiplomatic rejoinder.

"---Because in their eyes, you are alike of my kind. A woman who is lost in our world and has opened a portal for undefeatable monsters; a key for adding more chaos that this world can ever bring,"

The doors to your room has been opened, one knight coming right in rather than the both of you who had permission to stay in chambers; his voice becoming a mere whisper of his baritone, rough timbre that didn't caught your hearing when a knight suddenly talked out loud for the chevalier inside.

"---but, not to me."

The horseman has given Geralt a pithy nod of his head to direct him in. He set him aside when he'd pass by him; seeing how gigantic and bigger that the witcher was compared to both chevaliers. Your witcher's face masking in a vacant expression which they have ridiculed him when he'd gently placed you down on a soft bed that you immediately examined; catching sight of golden, silk sheets for such a large bed; the physical sensation of what a bed brought was bringing you forty winks from the ache everywhere in your joints.

"I'll bring them what they want to keep you safe. They can hurt me, make me bleed to death---" you've blinked your left swollen eye to see Geralt hovering on the side, his simple actions of skimming his fingers through your tangled hair in a surreptitious manner, the wide-broad back shielding his succors from the knights that still didn't leave the room; keeping you both under their guard which will surely get a scolding from the witcher himself after assisting you to your bed.

"---yet, I will not afford to see it from you again."

Geralt never gave you a chance to speak as he fully stood on his feet, wandering over to where one knight was standing, watching over you both and never intending to give privacy. The witcher had a scowl on his face as he sauntered over to where they were, shooting daggers at them when they firmly stood on their ground.

Emanuel, the persistent gallant firmly straightened his back; peering back at the witcher who was taller and giving him a silent, brooding death stare. Never batting an eyelid as he mutely tried to let them understand his wishes to be alone with you. Emanuel continued to quietly hector, leveling with Geralt's intimidation as he stared straight back at him; thoroughly impertinent by what he wanted.

"Leave her chambers." the white haired witcher lowly grumbled, emitting a gruff groan in the back of his throat when he heard the trifling knight be headstrong towards him.

Their conversation made you try to lift yourself up from the bed, whimpering and complaining from the twinging sensations that your injured body has been giving. You didn't need another fight to occur between Geralt and some knight; his slaughtering has been enough and you didn't need anymore people dying on your hands. Thus, you've faintly called for your witcher's name; distracting his annoyance or anger from butchering another set of horsemen.

He wouldn't kill them. They just needed to be pushed away.

"How about no, Mutant?" Emanuel taunted back, snappy and utterly offhand which made Geralt raise a brow.

He sighed to himself, rolling his eyes at his comeback and carelessly grabbed onto his shoulders. Using his strength that not any other normal human has, Geralt pushed him out of the doors with a forceful shove; letting him stumble and fall on his other friend who'd grunted out loud when they both fell outside and onto the castle floors.

"I didn't ask."

The witcher hastily slammed the doors shut, fastening the bolts and when he'd hung onto the latch, an ample amount of curses has been given to him; more demeaning and vociferous words that he surely has been used to from people who hated his kind and brushed them off despite the thunderous knocking from behind closed doors.

He took quick strides to where you where; leaning on the headboard of the bed. You've seen his leather bag resting off the sides---specifically, under the bed which got you staring at him as he does so, still cherishing his presence, what his whole being was worth to take a shine to and for acclaiming that this otherworldly human was a person you were in love with.

The idea of being away from him swatted a sting to your chest; how going back to earth will be the death of you if it eventually happens---and if it was a future you were bound to come back to.

You've given the witcher a solemn smile, your true feelings currently kept as a secret until it was the right time to tell. Geralt was crouching beside you, scouring through his leather bags until you've seen him take out a transparent witch bottle that had flamingo colored extract inside; the stuff was familiar to you and remembering what effects it has given; such vile taste began to drip on the tip of your tongue, making you shake your head that you ought to spurn.

Yet, also making the heat run to your face because of how you remembered how he'd let you take the pain by forcing the potion to drizzle on your skin, softly kissing your lips to distract you from it as he took care of your wounds back then.

Your eyes turned into big saucers; shakily bringing out a hand to cease his actions. Geralt took note of your sudden response, his head slightly turned to the side as he watched you panic with his composed expressions, "I---I---I know that medicine! I thought the last potion you made for me was...the last?"

He gave an impressed raise of his brows, thankful that your head hasn't been forced to forget or banged against a wall that'll give you amnesia, "I've mixed potions for humans ever since you came. Jaskier seldom wounds himself when he has his lute. But, he can take a spell when he is stubborn enough. However, you---you can be clumsy as an impaired Sylvan,"

You could feel he was trying to stifle a smile from his last metaphor, remembering memories in his past that certainly has given him entertainment. The witcher took the cork using his teeth, spitting the top of on the side as he began to reach out and point it on your unhealed wounds surrounding your chest, lightly covering the scar on your chest that reminds you of him because of the same symbol he has on his necklace.

"Geralt! Don't you...Don't you dare!"

The latter stopped midway to give you a teasing scowl, "You have a habit of saying my name when you are refusing to follow my wishes, midget."

"It's because I'm fine!" you squeaked and planned to get away from him when he'd gently took hold of your wrist, keeping you in place; profoundly staring into your eyes in disbelief.

"You have been tyrannized and can hardly move any of your limbs. Then, you say you are fine?"

The white wolf outreached for the collar of your ruined, bloody sweater, gently pulling them down for the upper valley of your breast to be displayed to him. He felt you yank his hand away to pout back at him. It made Geralt hum in sheer interest and surprise; your refusal to be cared for, humoring his guts because it seemed like you were upset over other things he couldn't decipher.

"Hmm." he gravely hum as you've seen his lips curl into a small, firm smile while he tightly had the elixir on his hand, inserting a quip after being in the presence of your unreasonable and disobliging self yet again.

"---Must you still be shy with me after everything we had?"

You've given him silence, squinting your eyes back at him as a form of reply.

Geralt sighed a deep one as he closed his eyes; not knowing what was making you grumpy and cranky at the same time. He'd open his glowing peepers to greatly gaze back in utter tranquility, beating you off with whatever silent challenge has been going on. Thus, those amber have taken a peep over your bruised lips, creating a face of disapproval before seeing him lean his head forward and over your face.

"You're not going to---to---give me a kiss as a form of distraction! If you think I'm a thirsty lady---"

One light peck to the lips was all he needed to shut you up. He was gentle, almost felt like he was tickling the pain because there was no ache as he kissed you. Geralt brushed his lips on yours; delicate and utmost promising. The action being a verbal persuasion for words that has not been set out in public---also, a belief inside your heart that wanted to listen to her own theories that your alter-ego tries to brush off.

The softness of his lips left yours with a brush of his warm breath, slimly creating space between you both when he leaned his forehead on yours, his nose grazing to let you feel his worries over what happened whilst he mumbled whispers of fidelity that were only a mere chance of hearing from the witcher himself.

"You...don't know how dreading it was to not see you wandering around our home---coming back and being welcomed by a bleeding bard and Cirilla scared to her wits,"

He'd promptly closed his eyes, gliding the roughness of his thumbs over the linear of your jaw; tender and comforting as he caressed; hearing him breathe calm, deep inhales that were adding mental repose over your aching body. The latter ought to touch your sore body with a profound gentleness he didn't knew he had when Geralt heard light, padded marching coming forth to where you both have been ensnared in.

"Eanraig," the witcher nonchalantly acknowledged, being in the right time as he stood up to his feet and cutting the moment short with you before Eanraig can even barge in without knocking; using such magic to open the locks to their doors that had Geralt humming in displeasure when he saw a look being given to him; mentally asking if he was interrupting something.

Geralt's frown just tightened more as they both stared at each other while you have given Eanraig a cordial smile; remembering that he was also one who has treated your wounds when it felt to be needed.

The Druid slammed the door shut with a simple flick of his hand, casting such occult practices that has fastened the bolts back in a tight lock; creating a force shield over the doors which can't let people from the outside, hear whatever was being talked about in the chamber.

"I've heard from Ingrith that you both are cursed together," Eanraig frankly spoke as matter of fact.

At the mention of that, Geralt couldn't help but narrow his eyes on the scholar, showing him his curiosity and bewilderment, "By who?"

His fellow acquaintance shared a guileless smile, "By what, is what you probably mean,"

"The Djinn," Geralt hoarsely bleated incoherently, exhaling frustrations about what he was getting a gist of the conversation.

The Djinn was certainly a snake in the grass just like how Jaskier mentioned, he silently thought to himself. His focus on the scholar turning sharper from what he was being elevated about.

Eanraig gave him a nod, "You were trying to send her home," pause. "---Warp of the souls. A curse made for two destined people. Unless, it still isn't permanent."

Keeping quiet as they talk; holding the chafe of your bruises all to yourself. Your attention jumped from Geralt to Eanraig. Confounding with the topic at hand because of your sudden apprehension towards the whole ordeal.

A curse. You were under a curse right now and Geralt wanted to send you home as well.

Your eyes shot at the witcher's wide broad back, shooting a glare at his infuriating, beautiful white hair; wanting nothing but to grab onto some scissors and cut his tresses because of reasons that was worth to strangle him---which you doubt it can even happen. Geralt subtly eye you in his peripheral vision because he could feel you shooting daggers at him and it left him utterly confused as he shifted his attention over you who laid behind him and Eanraig who stood before the doors, strolling closer to the both of you.

"Were you both in heat? Does anything feel strange?"

"I know what she feels. Everything."

Eanraig crossed his arms, raising an arm to touch his grizzled white beard. His gaze condemnatory for his next question that caught the witcher off-guard, "Did you bed her?"

Geralt raised both of his brows and let out an intriguing hum of his deep timbre, your focus on his reply but also making you feel giddy and bashful over the Druid's rash interrogation. Your eyes squinting and continuously giving the back of the witcher's head a death stare when you kept your mouth shut and let him do all the short talking for the first time in forever.

"Hmm."

His dawdling form of response got the Druid scratching his temples for such a dishonest answer that he rarely receives from him, "It has a process before the curse lasts forever, there is no refund or whatsoever. Maybe it might have had reasons for creating such process," Eanraig stated and avoided to tell a sensitive topic that can get Geralt running for the hills if he immediately knew what reasons that the Djinn has held you both; such sensible responsibility that could challenge your unspecified relationship with him.

A child. His very own child. The witcher won't take the news in the best way that he can. Especially, Geralt of Rivia.

The druid couldn't help the grin growing on his wrinkly face, repeating his query a lot more genuine than he can get, "Now, did you bed her?"

"What does this have to do with the Djinn?"

Eanraig couldn't help but suddenly chuckle under his breath, never receiving a proper answer from Geralt that was surely entertaining his day; "This is a curse that only a djinn can do, not any sorceress nor wizard," his chortles eventually died down as he turned serious, wanting a real answer to know if you both will be expecting a neonate that will bring miracles to their world.

Beautiful but daunting miracles that nobody can ever read in the future---not even a fortune teller can as everything was being blocked by the power of the genie.

"So, answer the question," he patiently asked the witcher with such enthusiasm that Geralt couldn't comprehend.

"---Did you bed her, witcher?"

Geralt was completely finding his questions strange, his scowl faltering as it changed into a wince receiving a strange question out of all the queries he can ever ask.

"Yes."

Lifting your head away from the headboard, you've given them both looks of incredulity; disbelieving that they were talking about both of your sensual lives like it was nothing which you really are sensitive and conservative about. The knives being thrown behind Geralt's back becoming bigger as you rolled your eyes for his short, indecipherable acknowledgement---concealing the whole, sudden irritation you had for him because of your shabby, emotional self.

"What? Did he get me pregnant or something?" you peeked behind Geralt's body to send the druid your jesting question, igniting no harm over it because of how important Eanraig was making it seem about asking a question as if he has knocked you up or something.

The sudden witticism has made Geralt slightly turn his body to give you the side eye, head-shaking as he does so with a sarcastic smile like he'd been insulted.

"You're being unreasonable, Midget."

You've turned your head to the side, trying to get his dander up from his 'sending you home moment' that the druid has honestly and bluntly said out to the two of you; catching Geralt's true feelings over you despite of his lies over calling you important and his home that he would gladly come back to.

"I'm asking Eanraig not you, Geralt."

He still has his body slightly turned to you, narrowing his golden eyes and shaking his head more firmer like a warning sent to your sudden attitude.

"You know I can't. Stop this nonsense,"

Your bruised mouth was in a tight straight line, going on with your narrow-minded self---steady to be adding more ungenerous quips that certainly was vexing the witcher because he'd send you a tight grimace that doesn't scare you, "But, using a Djinn and trying to send me home isn't nonsense after telling that you find home in me?" you scoffed in the middle of being glared at.

"---I didn't know you meant it literally, Geralt of Rivia."

The white wolf hadn't really gotten to dodge from your sudden verbal attacks. Though, the scowl you've received from him was the nastiest out of all the rest today. Yet, he didn't plan nor given you one back as he bit his tongue for even thinking through his temper just like how he did before---wanting not to commit in another mistake that he will surely regret in the end again.

Geralt bit his tongue harder, clenching his teeth together before he spoke with his fangs slipping out behind his lips---appearing to be like he was trying not to growl his frustrations out for your sudden hostility.

"It was before I even knew that you...you can be considered as my home, Midget," he'd given you a gaze; a knowing one that tells you he won this verbal fight of your petty snarks because he had wished for that before the Djinn was even on your hands---not after the wishes happened.

"K." you curtly answered, defeated. The side of your wounded lip slightly lifting as you added a moniker that will surely infuriate him as in the end.

"...Witcher,"

Geralt's lowest pitch of a quieted growl vibrated through his chest, looking at you threateningly from your obdurate answer.

Eanraig couldn't help but shift his head from one person to the other, gaping at the both of you and heedful of the vexation that suddenly surrounded you both. Did he do something then? the druid asked in the back of his mind when you were both staring at each other---if looks would kill, you were both already in a tough fight over what war was happening.

The scholar of the forest awkwardly cleared his throat, snapping the uncomfortable atmosphere by educating everyone in the room with his slight knowledge over the curse.

"Very well then, so much for making it permanent. You've probably did as much as you could considering how lecherous the witcher can get from his overly developed mutations,"

Geralt turned his body back to the druid in one's own good time, a coy smile plastered on his face---so feigned that the witcher felt like he was faking it too weakly over being verbally attacked as well by his acquaintance who elegantly told him that he was created to be a horny man in his life and continuous to be so.

Until he developes some sort of erectile dysfunction that nobody even knows yet.

Eanraig choked in his own words when Geralt stepped a foot closer to the druid, his glowing eyes squinted and never knowing what he was thinking as he gave an intimidating frown that made the druid swallow his words down in the back of his throat, his mood certainly ruined from your petty vantage point.

"This...This curse has its purpose, you will never love any other man or woman. Never. Not anyone can overcome the memories you had with him or her. The feelings are growing deeper each day. Hatred if the djinn may see fit. Affection. Care. Love. You are lucky if both of your feelings are real and true because if hatred comes with it---even vanquishing the affection you have? It'll make you forget that you even had feelings for each other because you'll end up unhappy and trying to kill each other off,"

Eanraig peeked behind Geralt to see you blinking in curiosity, "---unfortunate for a human like her. If he does hate you, little woman."

"---Also remember, if one of you dies---which I doubt for the witcher. Then, you will feel as if your heart has been taken away from you. Deep heart break. Pain shall take its course, every day that you may wake up will be memories of her, inhibiting pain and more ache at the memory of her dead." he continued and noted how Geralt has fallen in silence with a jaw clenched tight, "---you will be unhappy and in despair for this fleeting happiness that the djinn has set you both in,"

"and---" Eanraig's thoughts were ceased when the butcher of Blaviken spoke with an unyielding emotion set in his eyes; serious and wary of what kind of people were surrounding you as for the mean time.

"I won't let her die."

"But, what if its inevitable?" the scholar bluntly said it out in the open, making Geralt calmly let out a breath as he had his lips in a tight line, thrusting his jaw forward in subtle determination while Eanraig continued to utter his protests.

"Ingrith and Queen Makeda wants her dead, Geralt. You know you won't be finding the witch in five days!"

"I'll give them their shitty hag, Eanraig." The witcher muttered in final, his goals thoroughly set to find the witch that you have warned him about. Must it be a trap, you may never be quite sure as it was only been said by the prisoner who stayed in the same dungeon with you.

Geralt sounded to be too stubborn to listen and it appeared to be like there was no other way for you to be set free unless he finds the witch or fake one woman in order to keep them off your hair.

"Alright, then."

The druid left it at that. Sighing hard for his mullish and keeping his mouth shut for anything that can keep the witcher distracted throughout his hunt.

Geralt turned on his heels, seeing you crossing your arms like an upset, lady who had her mouth pursed so long that it made him take a gander over your cranky, battered state. His brows raised as he deeply muttered, inspecting your body language whilst pondering over ways how to keep you conciliated when you were seething before him like a feral kitten. His vicious, grouchy midget that was needed to simmer down.

"Interesting."

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Taglist for WOTN: (Strikethrough means you couldn’t be tagged, Bb. Please check your settings) @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @turkish276 @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-fanfictions @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @deadlydemon @cheesecakeisapie @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a–1–1–3, @gutfucks, @britty443, @suhke3, @shadowclawstudio88 @ruthoakenshield

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza, @crazybutconfidentaf

General taglist for Henry Cavill: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh, @silverkitten547 @henrythickcavill @kaatelyyynn @madelinelina, @summersong69, @raynosaurus-rex

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lunaverseimagine · 5 years ago

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My Boys

Pairing: Cedric x Reader

Summary: Cedric finds the purest way to cheer up his girlfriend after she’s been feeling down

Warnings: None

Word count: 960

Fic:

“Can I take my blindfold off yet?” you asked bemusedly.

“In a sec, we’re almost there,” came Cedric’s reply. You could almost hear the grin on his face. He lead you with a hand on your elbow, and you had absolutely no idea where you were going. All you knew was that when Cedric found out you had been feeling down, he made it his mission to cheer you up.

It started with cute forehead kisses and hugs from behind, and became more extravagant as time went on. His most recent endeavour was baking you a cake that changed flavour continuously as you ate it - at first you enjoyed chocolate, then vanilla, then strawberry, but then the cake started tasting of broccoli followed by what you could only assume was mud. Still, you appreciated his efforts, and were very grateful to have a boyfriend who cared so much about your well-being.

Cedric announced your arrival, and you took off your blindfold, letting out a squeal. As a muggle born you were very familiar with rescue shelters for cats and dogs, but you didn’t expect Cedric to know about them too. You bounced on the balls of your feet, barely able to contain your excitement.

“How did you know?”

“I asked your friends from your old muggle school what would make you happy, and they said you’ve always wanted a rescue pet.”

You gushed, throwing your arms around him.

“This is so perfect!” you cried happily as he spun you round, laughing.

“Anything for my beautiful y/n,” he replied. Then he put you down, gesturing towards the building in an exaggerated bow. “Shall we, m’lady?”

It was so cheesy and you couldn’t help loving him for it.

“We shall, my good sir.” You walked into the shelter arm in arm.

“How about this one?” Cedric asked, making his way over to a very sleepy tabby cat.

“She’s beautiful, but she reminds me too much of McGonagall,” you said with a giggle. You walked over to Cedric who was standing in front of the cat’s cage, and he put his arm around your waist and hugged you towards him.

“I didn’t know it would be so hard to choose; I just want them all!” you told him.

Cedric gave your waist a squeeze and said, “There’s one corridor we haven’t looked down. Maybe your perfect companion is waiting for you there.”

“I’ve already got my perfect companion.” You got onto your tiptoes to give Cedric a kiss on the cheek. “Although you aren’t particularly fluffy and you don’t even have a tail,” you quipped, gaining a gorgeous laugh.

Entering the final corridor, you scanned the lovely dogs until your eyes landed on one in particular. As soon as you saw him you knew he was the one.

You ran over to his cage, leaving Cedric at the door.

“He’s perfect,” you said in awe, admiring the three-legged golden retriever who had bounced up to greet you. He tail was wagging enthusiastically, and he was leaning against the bars of the cage hoping to be stroked. You happily obliged, telling him exactly what a good boy he was. When you glanced up, Cedric was staring at you.

“What is it?” you asked curiously.

“I just- it’s wonderful to see you so happy, love.”

One hand still obediently stroking the dog, you grabbed Cedric’s shirt with the other, and he leaned down to meet you. The kiss was so gentle, lips moving slowly in time, savouring every moment. He had one hand on your waist, the other cupping your cheek. He always made you feel loved, and you wanted him to know he was loved too. You slid your tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss, before someone cleared their throat near the entrance of the corridor.

You pulled apart, a bit embarrassed, and busied yourself with the dog you were still stroking. His tongue was lolling out the side of his mouth, and he gave a little bark of excitement at the extra attention he was getting.

“Found one you liked?” asked the woman with a mischievous glint in her eyes; she was an employee at the shelter, you remembered seeing her at the front desk.

Cedric told her you wanted the golden retriever, who you found out was called Leo, and he went to sort out the paperwork while you continued fussing over the newest addition to your family.

Two weeks later, after checking your home was suitable for a pet (you had to hide a lot of magical objects in the basement), the employee had finalised the adoption and Leo was officially yours.

You’d taken him out for your first walk together, throwing a ball for him in a nearby park. Cedric tried to use magic to throw the ball but you convinced him it was better the muggle way, even if you did both end up with Leo’s slobber on your hands. That evening you fed Leo dog biscuits topped with the leftovers of your dinner (“Dogs always prefer human food,” you informed Cedric), and now you were sitting on the sofa cuddling up to Cedric on one side and Leo on the other. Leo had his head resting on your thigh, silently asking for head pats which you were more than happy to give. Cedric had one arm around you, the other also fussing Leo. The two of you couldn’t get enough of this handsome dog who had made it his life’s duty to make you happy.

Needless to say he was succeeding. You were surrounded by love, and your heart felt lighter and happier than it had in a long time.

“My boys,” you sighed contentedly, and Cedric pressed his cheek against yours while happiness swelled in his chest. His mission had been a success.

End

I hope you enjoyed! If you did please like/reblog/lmk what you thought <3 Feel free to send any HP imagine requests to my ask!

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popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

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Blog Updates: New Patreon Stretch Goals, Patreon Exclusive Reviews, New Story Arcs and Other Stuff

MHello everyone. For those of you seeing this through other tags my name is Jake. I do reviews on here that are usually full sumaries of an episode of a tv show or comic, with jokes and analsyis throughout. I’m doing this post as i’ve recently revamped by patreon a bit, check out VIA THIS LINK if your curious. I also have some other stuff going on with the blog that I thought might intrest the general public and especially you lovely followers. Thank you guys so much. Your support means a lot and feel free to interact with this post and any of the reviews. it’s always a pleasure. Leave your comments whatever. So let’s start with the patreon stuff

You Decide the Next Patreon Exclusive Review!:

Yes YOU will decide the Patreon Exclusive review for May. How? It’s simple: i’m currently reviewing the Lilo and Stitch crossover episodes, the first two this week with the American Dragon Jake Long crossover “Morpholomew” done yesterday, the Proud Family episode “Spats” coming later this week, and “Rufus” (Kim Possible) and “Lax” (Recess) coming next week and the week after that respectively.

As a way to gage intrest in the shows crossed over, and if I should review some of them on their own, i’m going to be watching the notes, and after the first week i’ll record how many a review got. This way the first review dosen’t get an advantage over the last and so on. Whichever episode gets the most votes wins and it’s show will get two reviews: One exclusive to Patreon in may you can check out for just a buck, and one for all of ya in June. So if you want to dragon up, get louder and prouder, check out what the sitch is, or have some recess, keep an eye on my blog and check out the review. Like it reblog, it, both. This is all in your hands. And if this little contest works out I may do another one like it in the future.

New Patreon Stretch Goals!:

For those unfamiliar with Patreon it’s a site that helps creators like me get paid for their work, used by such luminaries as Linkara, Pushing Up Roses and greatest of all Rifftrax.

Stretch Goals are an amount of money I get a month from patreons, that’s readers like you paying me. Even a buck a month would help a lot and help me put out a reviews and LIVE off doing this. But it’s a two way street so in order to entice you lovely people into paying me for doing my job and my passion with these reviews, i’ve updated the tiers, adding a wider and better range of rewards. I’m currenntly up to 15 dollars a month, or close enough that i’ve acitivated those rewards. And if you help me hit these tiers EVEYRONE gets PUBLIC, on here, for free reviews. Thanks to my lovely patreons Emma and Kevin you all are getting reviews of the first 5 Ducktales episode, aka Legend of the Golden Suns, with the second coming as soon as I finish this post. Even a buck helps us reach closer and for your dollar you get access to the discord, exclusive reviews, and to pick a short any time I review a bunch of shorts. And with Goofy’s birthday coming up next montha nd Donald’s after that, now is the best time for that. 5 dollar patreons also get one review as month, with 10 dollar ones getting two. You’ve already probably seen some of these: Kev has used one of his a month to have me review a house of mouse episode every month, and newest patreon and longtime friend Emma is using them to have me review the netflix dr. seuss adaptation “Green Eggs and Ham”. So whatever YOU want me to review I will and you’l lhelp unlock even MORE great reviews. So what do you get if you hit the goals? I’m glad you asked.

We’re up to 15 so next is...

20 Dollar Tier: Ducktales 87 Season 2 Mini Series!: Yes indeedy. Already on the Docket was the Super Ducktales Arc, which introducices the OG GIZMODUCCCKKKKK. But since that apparenlty wasn’t enough i’ve also added the OTHER mini series. While i’ll do super first since that’s the one with higher fan intrest once tha’ts done i’ll also review Time is Money, the time travel arc bringing in everyone’s faviroite scrappy Bubba. So if you want a buncha cruncha retro Ducktales pony up. But that’s not all the disney afternoon I got for this tier.

A Darkwing Duck Episode A MOnth: This one has also been promoted every time I could and still stands. If you like that mind behind the shadow disguise, that daring duck of mystery, that champion of right, then you’ll get one review a month about him, as voted on by you patreons.

Danny Phantom: The Ultimate Enemy: And since neither of these have helped me so far and stepping back into Amity Park made me realize how much I love the series, even if it’s creator is a 80 tons of smug asshole packed into a t-shirt he thinks is cooler than it is. So it only felt right to add the ghost boy to the tier and the best way to kick that off is with it’s second best, and only barely second behind Reign Storm, episode: The Ultimate Enemy! Danny finds his future is imperfect and must battle his own evil self! If you want my thoughts on one of the series finest hours, then help me hit 20 bucks a month to keep making content.

25 Dollar Tier:

I removed the Tail Spin content, though rest assured I will be covering Plunder and Lightning sometime this year. But what I replaced it with is even better.

One Danny Phantom Review a Month: YOu like teen superheros? you like ghosts? you like me slagigng off about butch hartman and trying to make it crystal clear his creation dosen’t wholly belong to him? Then you’ll like me reviewing Danny Phantom. And while i’m already doing that, this goal gaurantees one episode a month, and said episode will be voted on by my patreons. So if you pay for this you’ll not only get your monthly dose of going ghost.. but you’ll get a chance to PICK what it is.

Disney Shows To Movies Trilogy : I’ve decided to make it a tradition for my 15 dollar stretch goals to do a bunch of disney movies. And like with my last batch, which you’ll be seeing in may, i’m doing tv shows that got their own movies, theatrical or otherwise. And this time we’re doing MY generatoin: Kim Possible: So The Drama, the best story in the show’s histroy and the best movie in the Disney Channels! Recess: Schools Out! The suprisingly bonkers unsurprisingly awesome finale to an awesome show! and The Proud Family Movie, another UTTERLY BATSHIT finish to a great show. Lost at Sea and Seconds: This one’s for my scottaholics, fourth part of my Scott Pilgrim retrospective coming this week!. If you like me taking a look at Scott’s quest to punch the fuck out of his girlfriends exes while growing up a little, then if you help me get to the 30 dollar tier, i’ll also take a look at O’Malley’s other graphic novels Lost at Sea, which follows a girl who lost her soul and her boyfriend on a trip with what may be Young Neil’s older sister, and Seconds, the story of a woman with issues growing up who finds the ablitlity to travel through time.. or is it space? And some of you savvier readers my know he has nother comic. Where’s that one? wellllll

30 Dollar Tier:

Snotgirl: I’m saving this one for this tier. Reviews of each collected volume of snotgirl, Bryan’s first ongoing series, all three so far and any more to come about, unsuprisingly, a hot mess of a person, this time who might’ve done a murder. You know instead of defintely did a murder but in self defnese and with a longsword.

Gravity Falls Season 1!: One of Disney’s finest finally on this blog. All season 1 episodes reviewed in some way in some shape in some form. Star Vs Finale Arc!: You’ve heard me bitch about the problems in Tom’s story, and wil lcontinue to. Now see the terrible way everyone elses ends! From an amazing build up to an awful finish, see reviews of Every story relevant season 4 episode from Butterfly Follies to Cleaved that won’t already be covered in my tom retrospective. It’s a road to crushing disapointment, come on inside!

35 Dollar Tier: More Disney TV Adaptations!: Doug’s First Movie! See Doug get really fucking weird in his sea monster based movie with a punch line of a name! Teachers Pet, a great movie out of a show I barely saw! Kim Possible Live action! it’s suprisingly okay! and Recess Taking the Fifth: a compliation movie for a season we sadly never got.

Gravity Falls Season 2: Buillding on the first reward Gravity Falls Reviews will go beyond the first season and finish the job. From zombies, to dipcifica, to ford to weirdmageddon, I’m doin it all.

40 Dollar Tier:

Two HUGE Disney Focused Comics Retrospectives!

Darkwing Duck: In addition to the show, i’ll start reviewing the awesome follow up comic that got me into it. From the start to both finishes: the unathorized crossover finale and the sadly short lived sequel series from joe books, the worst mistake disney ever made that wasn’t racist, before Artemis Fowl said hold my beer. Also the short lived Ducktlaes series because why not.

The Incredibles!: The Family Dynamic! A comprehensive retrospective featuring reviews of the movie, the Mark Waid followup, the sequel that ignores said followup and the incomparable Christos Gage’s followup to THAT movie. Also that wonderfuly awful failed tv pilot bob made that he and lucius did a mst3k of.

45 Dollar Tier:

Disney Flims Lilo and Stitch a Thon: All four lilo and stitch movies, Lilo and Stitch, Lilo and Sitch 2, Stitch and Leroy and Stitch! All the hawaii, aliens and sequels you can handle!

Amphibia Season 1: I’ve done Season 2 as it comes out, i’ll be doing the same for season 3, so help me get here to see the start at least once a month, but two at a time!

50 Dollar Tier: The last one for now. I’ll probably go to 10 dollar tiers after this.

The Owl House Season 1: While I wait for the second season to start so I can cover it, have me do the rest of season 1! The only exceptions are the already covered Enchanted Grom Fright and the earmarked for pride month wing it like witches!

The Two Loves and 87 Mistakes of Mordecai: A regular show romancetrospective, as we go through the downs, ups, higher ups and crushing lows of Modercai’s romantic arcs from regular show. His crush on margert, making his move, moving on, moving on to cj, and then the horrible cluster fuck I’ve talked about nonstop and will again and again as one of the worst romantic arcs in memory as they shot the relationship in the foot head and groin! Force me to relive it all!

So yeah I’ll add more tiers, again probably 10 dollars apart if I get to 50, but given I barely got to 15 i’m not optimistic. PROVE ME WRONG. HELP ME HIT 50.

Other Stuff:

Finally outisde of Patreon, that was the main reason for this, I have news on my various arcs. For one thing i’ll be trying to keep the pace better, so expect at least one entry a month for ones i’m doing on my own time like the tom retrospective, life and times and Scott pilgrims. Ones kev does will be done weekly to keep my wallet afloat.

I also have two more retrospectives incoming! The first is paid for by Kev: I’l lbe tackling ALL THREE SEASON 2 ARCS OF DUCKTALES 2017. After the headache of trying to cram the della arc into three weeks to keep up with the lena one, I decided i’td be better for pacing if I did all three at once and kev agreed to it, if using his patreon reviews to cushion the blows. So starting next month i’ll be covering the Louie, Della and Glomgold/Owlson arcs, swapping between them in episode order. With that I should be FAR closer to having covered every ducktales episode. Granted i’ll still have 17 to cover, but it’ll make that much more managable.

The second comes in June specifically timed for Pride Month. With Scott Pilgrim Wrapping up in August just in time for the movie’s anniversary, I decided to start covering another one of my faviorite comics of all time. It’s time to transform, roll out and make this precoius it’s Transformers More than Meets the Eye! For those of you unfamiliar it’s an idw comic that follows a rag tag group of transformers, about half of them gay or gay coded, on a mission to find the lost knights of cybertron and bring ballance to a post war cybertron.. which quickly devloves into hyjinnks with a side order of heartrending deaths and charcter development... and references to dexy’s midnight runners.

So that’s all for now. thank you for reading, please support my patreon as the next pay term is at the start of next month, so if you want me to start on any of those stretch goals, nows the time. Please help me earn a living and until all are one, i’ll see you at the next rainbow.

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hannahbee12719 · 4 years ago

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1997 Awareness Day

At the urging of E @btsarmy9593, I am creating a post of my ramblings concerning the sheer quantity of unnaturally beautiful and talented humans born in the year 1997. I swear the expecting mothers all received some sort of blessing from a higher deity, or there was some sort of magical fairy dust in the water. Whatever the reason is, we decided it should be commemorated.

I will put my ramblings and bigger versions of the pictures below the cut, but here is the collection of beautiful and talented humans to whom I am referring. Feel free to reblog with your own additions/information you’d like! I’m sure there are people and things I missed 😅

I am also tagging Allison @seokjinger-ale because we have discussed this before 😂

How did this all start? I slid into E’s dms asking for A.C.E song recommendations. At one point the conversation turned to A.C.E’s maknae, Chan (cutie pie pictured above), who, you guessed it, was born in 1997! This lead me to pose the question, “What did they put in the water in 1997?!?”

Without further ado…

We start off with the obvious. The one, the only Jeon Jungkook. Wrecker of everyone’s bias lines with his innocent doe eyes and markedly less innocent body proportions. Golden Maknae. Extremely talented vocalist. Dancer extraordinaire. Good at everything he puts his mind to. I know you all know what he looks like, but I feel like we all need this…for science…you know? (Cr. @/fairyprincejk on twt)

Next, we have a whole line of those born in 1997 in Seventeen. From left to right we have Mingyu, The8 (Minghao), and DK (short for Dokyeom, real name Seokmin). Mingyu is a tall, muscular puppy. He’s like the lovable nanny of the group. He has this cute little lisp that I adore. And then there’s, you know, the fact that he looks like that 😍 As for Minghao, his dancing is incredible, his visuals are stunning (see above, need I say more?), AND he can sing. DK is my Seventeen bias so I will do my best not gush on and on about him lol. His vocals are powerful and absolutely breathtaking (not only is he one of the main vocals of Svt but he’s currently reprising his role of King Arthur in the musical Arthur). DK is also the purest ray of sunshine in the whole industry…entirely sweet and funny and loving. Don’t let him fool you though, he’s got muscles underneath those big sweaters and t-shirts he mostly wears and he will catch you off guard 😳

Then we have the 97’s in NCT, Winwin (real name Sicheng) and Jaehyun. I don’t compare idols to one another as a rule, but since most of the people who follow this blog are Army’s I’m using these comparisons for the sake of familiarity. Winwin is his own wonderful, talented self. With that disclaimer out of the way *clears throat*. Like Taehyung, Winwin is stunningly beautiful and endearingly weird. And like Jimin, watching Winwin dance is like experiencing living art. Then there’s Jaehyun. Jaehyun has the dimpled face of a fairytale prince, a voice smoother than honey, and washboard abs. He’s also super sweet and adorable.

Last, but certainly not least, we have Yugyeom of GOT7, Bang Chan (Christopher Bang) of Stray Kids, and Eunwoo of Astro. I’m not as familiar with these three personality-wise, but from what I’ve seen they are well-loved. I know that Chan is a sweet baby angel from all the video clips and things I’ve seen of him. I’m already in love with him and I haven’t even delved that far into Stray Kids (they are infants, Chan is their hyung and I’m not ready to approach them until all their members are at least 21 lol). I’m also in the middle of True Beauty (a kdrama starring Eunwoo) and I’m loving his acting (his face isn’t so bad either 😍).

If you’re reading this, thank you and congratulations! You’ve made it through my crazy ramblings 🤪

Bonus!!

#1997 Awareness Day #this is by far the craziest thing I’ve put together lol #I’m not ashamed lol #sweet mutual 💛#BTS #seventeen #nct #GOT7 #stray kids #astro

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jamielea81 · 5 years ago

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Just a Simple Lie

Chapter 1

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Description: Having worked on small independent films for the better part of a decade, your friend tells you about an opening for a script supervisor with a large studio. Wanting to advance your career, you apply and get an interview. The only downside, they prefer to hire crew who are married. It’s just a simple lie, right?

A/N: This fic is simply for fun. I know nothing about the personal lives of the two actors in this series and mean no harm. I am also totally guessing regarding the studio talk. This particular chapter is Chris light as it’s mainly a getting to know the reader. Chapters going forward will be heavy on the Chris aspect. Comments, reblogs, and likes are always welcome. Tag list is open, please send me an ask.

“Do you have the ring?”

“Of course, I have the ring.” You let out a frustrated breath. “This is so silly.”

Joanna chuckles over the line. “Where did you manage to get a ring from anyway?”

“It’s my grandmother’s. I feel like I’m majorly disrespecting her by wearing it when I’m not even engaged. Not to mention I’ve been single for-ev-er.” You drawl out.

“Breathe babe. Just breathe.” She says softly.

You inhale deeply and exhale it slowly.

“Maybe don’t do that directly into the phone.” She laughs again.

“Joanna Elizabeth.” You growl. “Why am I doing this?” You ask catching a glimpse of your reflection in the review mirror. Running a hand through your hair, you see the diamond engagement ring on your left finger. It feels so foreign, even stranger seeing it.

“Because this is a great opportunity to advance your career. Stone Lite is a major studio, Y/N. You can’t keep working on those student films.”

“Hey! I worked on a couple of independent movies. One even showed at Sundance.” You defend.

“And that’s awesome. Really. But this could be your big in. You’ve been doing this, what, for ten years?”

She was right. Ten years and the majority of your income came from student funded films and slinging beers three nights a week.

“And by your silence, you know I am right.”

Smug bitch.

“Ahuh.” You sigh.

“Look, I know it’s not right, but if this increases your chances of getting hired, just wear the damn ring.” Joanna huffs out.

“Easy for you to say, oh, wise married one.”

Joanna previously worked for Stone Lite Studios before moving on to Sony. It was a well-known amongst the employees that if you wanted to get hired for any position that put you in direct contact with any of the actors, you needed to be married. The studio was concerned with fan girls and fan boys. As if adults couldn’t control their urges and not make unwanted advances. Not to mention, married or not, some people still have affairs. Now granted, not every person there was married, but you had a greater advantage to get the job if you were. Right or wrong.

You drew the line at saying you were actually married and settled on being engaged. Not wanting to worry about details like how you kept your last name and lying on the tax forms you’d have to fill out. Even though you’ve only worked on small projects, Hollywood was surprisingly small when it came to the industry. It would be a lot harder to explain a sudden husband versus a fiancé. With Joanna’s agreement, you took your grandmother’s engagement ring from your jewelry box and slipped it on your finger.

“I’m just saying, give it a shot and see where this goes.” She reasoned.

“You’re right. You’re right. I better go in anyway. There’s a golf cart that keeps circling around the lot. They’re probably getting suspicious as to why I’m still in my car.”

She let out a chuckle. “They’re going to give you a ride to the offices. Welcome to the big leagues baby.”

“Ms. Y/L/N, may I call you Y/N? Barbara Floyd, the interviewer and also the production manager asked.

The two of you had already gone over your previous crew history where you held a variety of positions including editor, grip, writer, and even wardrobe. On a whim, you took a script supervisor position on an independent short and really enjoyed it. The next job you took was on full length film in the same position, that’s when you decided that’s where your passion lied. Despite the copious amount of responsibility and that often brought on your anxiety, you loved the challenge.

“Of course, Mrs. Floyd.”

Her eyes went directly to your left hand. “That’s a beautiful ring.” She says.

Here we go.

“Thank you.” You stick your hand out for added affect.

“When’s the wedding?” She asks.

“Next year. We have a lot of out of town family. We just want to make sure they have time to arrange travel.”

Look at me lie. Maybe I should have tried acting.

“I’m sure it will be lovely.” She replies with a wide smile. “I’d like to introduce you to a few people. Please come with me.”

You received a contract via e-mail later that evening. They were bringing you on for one film with the option of three additional films after production. Granted, that’s if you didn’t mess up. Joanna was right, this is the big leagues. If you could make it through the next three to four months, you’d have a long term contract with a major studio.

The next day you received the script. Winter’s Sin was the working title. Whether or not the title would stick was anyone’s guess. You had worked with a few well-known actors, but more of the B list variety. Wonderfully talented actors, but they just didn’t get the parts or the recognition they often deserved. This film had a couple of big names, Keanu Reeves and Chris Evans to be exact. Maggie Jessup was this year’s it girl and rumor had it, this movie was going to launch her into stardom. Generally, you didn’t get star struck, but this was Keanu Reeves! You first fell in love with him when you saw Speed. And again, when you watched The Lake House. Too bad you were technically “engaged”.

Pre-production was set to start next week. This week would be spent going over the script a few times and creating notes. Some wouldn’t consider it the fun part of the job, but you loved diving into a script before it was brought to life. It was also a bonus that you generally liked the script. It was sort of a weepy drama with a love story tied in. But the main plot was between two friends, Milo played by Keanu and William played by Chris. You stayed up half the night and made it almost all the way through. To say you were invested was an understatement.

You read through the script twice more over the next few days and felt ready. Next week you would meet with wardrobe and the writers. The cast would be fitted and you would take photos for your own personal files to make sure styles remain the same for the shoot. Of course, this could all change the day shooting begins which is why you needed to be on your A game and get all the drinking out of the way tonight. You’d have Sunday to recover before starting at the studio on Monday.

Laurel Tavern wasn’t necessarily your favorite bar, but it had become the place to get a bite to eat and a few drinks. It was also the most centrally located place for you and your friends to meet. Joanna and her husband Ian picked you up on the way, knowing you wanted to drink to excess. The three of you along with Travis and Jemma were celebrating your new job tonight. The five of you often found reasons to celebrate whether it was finding a twenty dollar bill on the side of the road, not getting fired from a particular job you’ve been slacking at, for the record, that was Travis, or getting a full eight hours of sleep. Tonight, was really worth celebrating.

“What do you want girl?” Joanna asked, getting up from your usual booth. “First rounds on me. If you’re nice, I might even buy you a second.” She throws you a wink.

“Ummm. I’d like a margarita, hold the margarita.” You say in all seriousness.

“Tequila. Got it.” She says before turning away and heading to the bar.

“Extra limes.” You shout.

She waves her hand behind her head, not bothering to spare your table a look.

Travis joins your booth, a couple of pints of beer in hand. “Here, I brought you one.” Setting a pint of golden goodness in front of you.

You lean over kissing his cheek. “I feel so special.” You coo.

Travis wormed his way into your life seven years ago. He was a senior in college at the time, tall and lanky with hair that stuck out from under his hat. He was filming his final project before graduation. The two of you had a mutual friend in common, Jemma, who was an ex-girlfriend of Travis, how they stayed friends, was beyond you. You helped with directing, a little bit of script management, and even filled in for makeup on a few days. Anything to help a friend of a friend. Travis became your pseudo little brother, well, a brother that you kissed once. You had just broken up with Chad, never date a guy name Chad. Anyway, you had just broken up with Chad and were feeling down in the dumps about yourself. He fed you some bullshit about never being there for him when he needed you. You got angry, he got angry, and then he told you that you weren’t hot enough for him. Yep, Chad was a douche. Travis invited you over, feed you pizza and a ton of beers, then you kissed. He wasn’t a bad kisser, but it felt weird. He was five years younger than you, but it wasn’t just that, he was too much like a brother. The two of you agreed that it was a mistake and never brought it up again. Not even Jemma knew.

The five of you munched on burgers and grilled cheese sandwiches. Jemma bought you a margarita, even after you told her you just wanted the tequila. Her motive was to mooch some of the beverage off of you.

“I don’t want all of the calories. I just want to try it.” She grins. Big rosy cheeks and wild blonde hair. Her British accent on full affect after already consuming a few shots herself. She had lived in the United States most of her life, but when she drank, the accent became heavier.

She grabs your drink, taking a hold of the straw and consumes half of it in one go. If you didn’t love her, you would have ditched her years ago.

Pushing Ian out of the booth, you get up on wobbly feet and make the long twenty foot journey to the bar. “I’ll get my tequila myself. Thank you very much.” You tell the table.

It’s after midnight by the time you’re dropped off. Running a makeup remover cloth over your face and stripping down to a cami, you call it good enough and crawl into your cozy bed.

After a pit stop at Starbucks, you make it to the studio an hour earlier than you need to be. After parking in Timbuctoo, you graciously accept the golf cart ride from security.

One of the admins directs you to a small office down a long hallway with similar offices. There’s a laptop computer, various pens and notepads on the desk. You unpack a small plant you picked up yesterday after you dragged your hungover self out of bed and to the grocery store for food. There was no window in your office which you figured; a little greenery would liven the place up, literally.

An hour later, one of the producers, David, came by to introduce himself and walk you around the grounds and through the soundstage you’d be shooting on. Filming would take place on the soundstage for a little more than a month. Then everyone would move the whole operation to Vancouver. The movie was called Winter’s Sin after all and there wasn’t a whole lot of winter in Los Angeles.

Before stopping back in your office, David popped into the office across from yours. He knocked while walking in, apparently already comfortable with the occupant.

“Hey Monica. I want you to meet Y/N. She’s the assistant script supervisor I was telling you about.”

Assistant? What?

Monica got up from her chair to greet you. You plastered on a smile and stuck out your hand. She was around your age and seriously gorgeous. Beautiful thick brown hair with a touch of caramel highlights that hung just above her chest.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m looking forward to working with you. Would love to hear some of your ideas.”

“Same.”

What could you say? You weren’t told that you were an assistant script supervisor, you thought you had the position. Apparently, it was a shared position.

“Y/N will be working primarily with Chris and Keanu.”

Whoa. Well, at least there’s that.

Monica scoffs. “Really?”

Your eyes automatically go to her left hand. No ring. Of course.

“Yes, really. You’ve got Maggie. I think she can really flourish under your direction. Not to mention you have Hector, Tim, Daisy and Joe.

After the awkward exchange, you traded cellphone numbers with her and made plans to meet after the first read through with the cast.

Walking across the way into the safety of your office, you figured you might as well ask.

“I wasn’t aware that I was being hired on as an assistant script supervisor.”

David ran a hand down his face. “Y/N, listen. This is your first big film; you need to walk before you can run. Alright? If this goes well, you’ll probably get hired on as the lead.”

“Okay.” You sighed out

“Alright, I’ll see you later. Meeting at three on the soundstage.”

“Got it.” You replied, plopping yourself down in the desk chair.

David peeks his head back into your office. “You’ve got some visitors.”

“Thanks.” You call out, standing back up and pulling your door open wider.

Your heart stopped. At least you were pretty sure it did. Keanu and Chris were both in front of you. Yes, you were there to film a movie, but this felt like a freaking movie. The two of them, side by side, grins on their faces. Keanu’s hand outstretched while Chris’ hands were snugly in the front pockets of his jeans.

“Y/N, pleasure to meet you. I’m Keanu.”

You accept his hand but your pretty much speechless. You may have muttered “hi” but you can’t be sure. Sensing your nervousness, he gives you a smile and releases your hand. He looks to Chris and they exchange a silent conversation. Chris steps forward offering you his hand and once again you can’t breathe.

Has he always been this attractive? Apparently, I haven’t watched enough Avengers movies.

His hair’s a bit longer than what you remember from the one or two movies you’ve seen. He’s also sporting a full beard. Definitely something he can pull off.

You mentally slap yourself and pull your hand from his after you realize you hadn’t said anything.

“Um. Sorry. Haven’t had enough caffeine today. It’s nice to meet you both. I look forward to working with you on this shoot.”

“Nice plant.” Keanu says, pointing at the fern taking up the front corner of your desk.

You giggle. Like actually let out a giggle and you’re pretty sure your cheeks are flushed.

You’re a professional. Get your shit together.

“Well, you know?” Shrugging your shoulders. “Need to green the space up a bit.’

Chris nods his head and offers a closed mouth smile.

“Well, we won’t take up all your time. Just wanted to say hello.”

“Hello.” You reply with a wave.

Why am I so awkward?!

They both chuckle and Chris waves back at you.

Tomorrow you wouldn’t be so starstruck. These are just two men that you work with. Who cares that they both seem nice and are dangerously attractive? You’re an “engaged” woman who is also a professional. You can do this.

Yeah. I can do this.

If you are crossed out, I can’t tag you.

Tag list: @southerngracela @chrisevansforever @chrisevansfanfic @zsuzstyina @peach-acid @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob@patzammit @heartislubbingdubbing @collinsstanharbour @twittytelly @thefandomzoneisdangerous @linki-locks11 @jennmurawski13

#Chris Evans #chris evans fanfic #keanu reeves #actor fic #Chris Evans Fan Fiction #just a simple lie #Chris Evans x Reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n

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ssa-montgomery · 5 years ago

Text

Behind Closed Doors Chapter 1

Word Count: 2176

Story Summary: After a drunken night together Emma and Regina seem to fall into a hidden relationship. Dinners that aren't quite dates, nights together that they pretend never happened. No one knows, and it's perfect. Though it seems somewhere along the line Regina started to feel more than she ever imagined she would.What will happen to this relationship, as well as their friendship when Emma brushes it off as casual and begins to date Killian? A heartbroken Regina and an oblivious Emma attempt to fix it. What if people find out what happens behind the closed doors of Regina's home? Can Regina win back Emma's heart?

Characters For This Chapter: Regina x Emma, Belle, Ruby x Dorothy, Ashley, Snow White

Warnings For Story: Angst, Smut, Heartbreak, Swearing, Alcohol use

A/N: This is the start of my new Swan Queen fic! This is the first OUAT full-length fic that I've written in a very long time but I'm excited to work on it! The next chapter will have a lot of Swan Queen content and will fill in that bit of missing time. I hope you enjoy, please let me know what you think!

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

"Are you sure that's what you want to wear Emma?" Ruby asked her head falling to the side as she looked Emma up and down and fully took in the outfit she was planning on wearing.

They were upstairs in the loft and Emma was standing in front of the full-length mirror in the corner of the room. Ruby had settled herself on Emma's bed with her arms spread out behind her and her legs dangling off the edge. She had arrived early, already dressed in one of her signature little red dresses and a pair of heels that Emma was certain she would never be able to walk in. She had insisted that Emma would more than likely need help to get ready and clearly she was starting to think she was right.

"What? What's wrong with my outfit?" Emma asked defensively, she glanced down at herself before looking back up to meet Ruby's gaze. She didn't see anything wrong with what she was wearing, sure it wasn't as nice or as flashy as Ruby's but Emma hadn't exactly had the time to go out shopping for dresses since she had come to Storybrooke.

"It's just-" Ruby paused and let out a sigh. "It's what you've been wearing all day, you know to work. I don't think a white t-shirt and jeans exactly screams girls night out."

"I mean, I might have a nicer shirt." Emma shrugged as she tugged at her top trying to think of what she had in her wardrobe.

Before Ruby could say anything on the subject they heard the front door open downstairs. Ruby sat up and eagerly looked down over the barrier to the bottom floor. Belle had walked in and was now pulling the door closed behind her. She looked around the apartment before Emma's voice rang down the stairs.

"Up here, Belle."

Belle looked up and smiled when she spotted Emma at the top of the stairs. She made her way up and dropped down onto the bed next to Ruby, tucking her legs up underneath herself.

"Belle please tell Emma she needs to change into something more appropriate for a night out," Ruby said gesturing to Emma's outfit as she turned to face Belle.

"I mean, maybe something different wouldn't hurt." She smiled politely. Belle herself was wearing a pale yellow dress that hung just below her knees. Emma couldn't help but think that it fitted her personality perfectly.

"Okay, okay fine. I'll go find that shirt." Emma rolled her eyes throwing her wardrobe open.

She dug through what little clothes she had brought with her from Boston until she found what she had been looking for. It was a silky blue shirt she had only worn once. It was different than her usual style and had been pushed to the back of the wardrobe. A strange warmth swelled up in her chest as she stared down at the shirt but shook her head and shoved the feeling down. She pulled it off its hanger and held it up in front of her, turning to show it off to the others.

"Better?"

"Wow, that's actually really nice." Ruby sounded surprised as she nodded, reaching out to run a hand along the shirt and feel the soft material.

"Where did you get that?" Belle asked.

"Oh um," Emma stopped to clear her throat. "Regina actually."

"Oh." Belle and Ruby exchanged a questioning look and seemed to both have the same idea in their minds.

"She gave it to me after an incident with a cup of hot cocoa." Emma quickly explained before they could get any more ideas.

"Well put it on so we can leave. The others are waiting for us at the bar."

Emma quickly threw off her t-shirt and slipped the shirt over her head. It was surprisingly comfortable and Emma was starting to wonder why she hadn't worn it again before today. Part of her knew exactly why she hadn't. Once she was ready she grabbed her phone and wallet, putting them both into her jean pockets.

"Let's go then."

~~~

Emma stepped out of the Bug onto the footpath outside The Rabbit Hole. The air outside was bitter and she was starting to wish that she had taken her jacket with her. She could feel goosebumps pricking up across her skin and she shivered. The shirt was pretty but the material did very little to fight off the wind. Ruby moved around the car, Belle's hand clasped tightly in her hand as she pulled her behind her. She slipped her arm through Emma's and lead them both towards the main entrance.

"Someone's eager." Emma laughed.

"I'm going to make a wild guess and say someone invited Dorothy tonight." Belle chuckled.

"What? No. I mean yes. I mean she's just a friend." Ruby came to a sudden stop still not letting go of either of them and stumbled over her words. Even in the dark Emma could see the blush creeping up across Ruby's cheeks.

"Oh of course. Never suggested anything else."

Emma wasn't surprised at the crowd inside the bar, she had been to the Rabbit Hole plenty of times on a Saturday night and it was always the same. The heavy bass of the music, the constant flow of talking and the clattering sound of the pool tables filling the building. Crowds of people were standing all around, groups huddled at the bar waiting for their drinks while others danced throughout the room seemingly not caring who was watching.

"Guys over here!" A voice cutting through the crowd caught their attention.

Emma spotted Ashley waving them over to the table her and Dorothy had managed to secure in the middle of the bar. They pushed their way through the crowd and Ashley stood to greet them. She threw her arms around Emma and she happily returned the hug. Ashley's skin was warm to the touch and Emma caught the faint scent of alcohol when she moved past her to hug the others. Already there were empty glasses on the table and Emma guessed Ashley was already tipsy.

"Hello, guys." Dorothy nodded at them. Dorothy was the newest addition to the group and it seemed she was still adjusting to her new world. Emma liked her but she was still unsure about most people in the town, though she had taken quite a shine to Ruby, and Ruby had certainly taken an interest in her. She quickly hopped up onto the barstool next to Dorothy and immediately they fell into a conversation with Ruby leaning in as close to her as she could.

Emma took a seat next to where Ashley had been sitting and examined the glasses on the table. Cocktail glasses that still had a faint trace of the golden liquid that had been in them. She tried that particular cocktail in here before but the sickly sweet honey flavour hadn't been to her taste.

"A round of cocktails or shots to start us off?" Ashley asked the group taking back her seat.

"Seems like you've already started." Emma laughed. "But I think shots."

Everyone else at the table nodded in agreement and Belle managed to catch the attention of the waitress to order the round. She nodded and turned back towards the bar to get their order.

"I'm so glad you organised this Ruby, I've barely left the house since Alexandra was born and I really needed this," Ashley admitted.

"Always happy to help." Ruby hummed. "Especially when it comes to nights out."

"Here you go." The waitress returned and set the tray of shots down on the table in front of them. "Enjoy."

"Thank you," Dorothy said reaching forward to grab one of the glasses.

Once everyone had taken their glasses Belle raised hers up in the air.

"Here's to girls night."

"And hopefully many more," Ruby added.

~~~

"I'm going to get another drink," Emma announced pushing herself down from her chair with only some difficultly. "Can I get anyone else anything?"

It was nearing midnight now and their table had slowly been filling up with empty glasses to the point that the table was now cluttered. Ruby and Dorothy had slipped away from the group and were now playing pool on the opposite side of the bar. Emma was willing to admit that she might have had one too many, the warm, fuzzy feeling clouding her mind. It had been a while since she had gone out drinking with anyone and the night out was fun.

"I really shouldn't," Belle said shaking her head.

"Same here." Ashley agreed pushing the now empty glass of her last drink away from her.

Emma nodded before making her way through the crowd to the bar. It was still as busy as it had been when they arrived but people had now stopped arriving and she was sure it would start to quieten down soon enough. She could feel herself swaying in place as she stood at the counter and decided to take a seat on one of the stools while she waited for her order.

"Are you really sure another bottle is a smart idea, Miss Swan?"

The familiar voice broke Emma out of her daze and she spun around almost slipping from her seat. Her heart stopped for a moment at the smirk that met her when she turned. She could feel the dark brown eyes raking up and down her outfit and suddenly she was glad she had changed after all.

"Well, I didn't take this as your usual spot." Emma teased returning her smirk.

~~~

Regina finally gave in to the assault on her front door that had woken her only moments ago. She threw back the duvet and stood up, cursing whoever it was that had woken her when she felt the cold bite to the air. She flicked her wrist and watched a purple cloud envelope her. Once it had faded away she was fully dressed. She took a quick moment to examine the dark blue dress in the mirror before slipping out of the room towards the front door.

Once she reached the hallway she peered out of the window with a direct line of sight to the porch. She gritted her teeth when she saw who it was. Why was she even surprised any more?

She reached for the door handle and flung it open.

"If it's another sleeping curse you're begging for I'm very close to being happy to oblige."

Snow's face was flushed and she had a wild look on her face. She completely ignored Regina's comment and immediately started talking.

"Emma never came home last night." The words seemed to all come out in one breath and Regina could hear the worry lacing her frantic tone.

"And that's my problem how exactly? I'm the Mayor, not the Sheriff if you want to file a missing persons report call your husband." Regina snapped.

She moved to close the door but Snow quickly caught it and pushed it open again. Regina rolled her eyes but decided not to fight it further knowing she wouldn't get much further.

"Look Regina she went out with Belle and Ruby last night, they said she was really drunk and then suddenly she had just left. We haven't heard from her at all."

"So what you're telling me is, you woke me up at this god awful hour because your daughter got drunk and probably stumbled home with someone? She's a thirty-year-old woman Snow, give her an hour or two to sober up and I'm sure she'll find her way home."

"Just please Regina, if you see her tell her to call me. We're worried." Snow pleaded.

"Yes. Fine. Whatever. Can I go back to bed now? Or is there some more useless information you want to burden me with?" She questioned.

"No, I'm sorry to disturb you, Regina."

"Wonderful."

Regina let the door slam shut and gave a sigh of relief when she heard Snow's steps retreating across the porch. If Snow White had been insufferable as a child she didn't have words for what she was now. She honestly believed that anyone that judged her for becoming the Evil Queen simply hadn't spent time with Snow.

Ever since Emma had come to Storybrook and the curse had been broken both her and Charming had gotten worse. It seemed since they missed out on the first 28 years of Emma's life they were trying to make up for it now. It had made them the worlds worst helicopter parents to a thirty-year-old woman. It now apparently also included treating Emma like a teenage when she more than likely just stumbled home with a stranger. Or someone closer to home.

Regina turned around to see Emma descending the stairs, Regina's silk black dressing gown wrapped tightly around her. Her blonde her falling around her shoulders in loose curls was a hard contrast to the dark colour but it suited her.

"Thank you. For not telling her I was here."

Taglist: @thewaywardimpala @waknatious @sapphiccyanide

#once upon a time #once upon a time fanfic #once upon a time fandom #once upon a time fanfiction #ouat #ouat fanfiction #ouat ff #ouat fandom #swan queen #swan queen fanfic #swan queen fandom #swan queen fanfiction

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wildeoaths · 5 years ago

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LGBTQ Book & Film Recommendations

Hello! As someone who tries to read widely, it can sometimes be frustrating to find good (well-written, well-made) LGBTQ+ works of literature and film, and mainstream recommendations only go so far. This is my shortlist.

Some caveats: 1) I have only watched/seen some of these, though they have all been well-received.

2) The literature list is primarily focused on adult literary and genre fiction, since that is what I mostly read, and I feel like it’s easier to find queer YA fiction. Cece over at ProblemsOfABookNerd (YT) covers a lot of newer releases and has a YA focus, so you can check her out for more recommendations.

3) There are a ton of good films and good books that either reference or discuss queer theory, LGBTQ history and literary theory. These tend to be more esoteric and academic, and I’m not too familiar with queer theory, so they’ve largely been left off the list. I do agree that they’re important, and reading into LGBTQ-coding is a major practice, but they’re less accessible and I don’t want to make the list too intimidating.

4) I linked to Goodreads and Letterboxd because that’s what I use and I happen to really enjoy the reviews.

Any works that are bolded are popular, or they’re acclaimed and I think they deserve some attention. I’ve done my best to flag potential objections and triggers, but you should definitely do a search of the reviews. DoesTheDogDie is also a good resource. Not all of these will be suitable for younger teenagers; please use your common sense and judgement.

Please feel free to chime in in the replies (not the reblogs) with your recommendations, and I’ll eventually do a reblog with the additions!

BOOKS

> YOUNG ADULT

Don’t @ me asking why your favourite YA novel isn’t on this list. These just happen to be the picks I felt might also appeal to older teens/twentysomethings.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

Clap When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo - poetry.

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender - trans male teen protagonist.

Red, White & Royal Blue

Simon vs the Homo Sapiens Agenda

The Gentleman’s Guide To Vice And Virtue

The Raven Boys (and Raven Cycle)

> LITERATURE: GENERAL

This list does skew M/M; more NB, trans and WLW recommendations are welcomed!

A Little Life by Hanya Yanagihara. One of the most acclaimed contemporary LGBTQ novels and you’ve probably heard of it. Will probably make you cry.

A Single Man by Christopher Isherwood. Portrait of a middle-aged gay man.

Brideshead Revisited by Evelyn Waugh. M/M affair, British student high society; definitely nostalgic for the aristocracy so be aware of the context.

Call Me By Your Name by André Aciman. It’s somewhat controversial, it’s gay, everyone knows the film at least.

Cronus’ Children / Le Jardin d'Acclimation by Yves Navarre. Winner of the Goncourt prize.

Dancer From The Dance by Andrew Holleran. A young man in the 1970s NYC gay scene. Warning for drugs and sexual references.

Dorian, An Imitation by Will Self. Adaptation of Orscar Wilde’s novel. Warning for sexual content.

Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg. Two wlw in the 1980s. Also made into a film; see below.

Gemini by Michel Tournier. The link will tell you more; seems like a very complex read. TW for troubling twin dynamics.

Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin. Another iconic M/M work.

Lost Boi by Sassafras Lowrey. A queer punk reimagining of Peter Pan. Probably one of the more accessible works on this list!

Lie With Me by Philippe Besson. Two teenage boys in 1980s France.

Maurice by E. M. Forster. Landmark work written in 1914. Also made into a film; see below.

Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides. An expansive (and long) novel about the story of Cal, a hermaphrodite, by the author of The Virgin Suicides.

Orlando by Virginia Woolf. Plays with gender, time and space. Virginia Woolf’s ode to her lover Vita Sackville-West. What more do you want? (also a great film; see below).

Oscar Wilde’s works - The Picture of Dorian Gray would be the place to start. Another member of the classical literary canon.

Saga, vol.1 by Brian K. Vaughn and Fiona Staples. Graphic novel; warning for sexual content.

Stone Butch Blues by Leslie Feinburg. An acclaimed work looking at working-class lesbian life and gender identity in pre-Stonewall America.

The Holy Innocents by Gilbert Adair. The basis for Bertolucci’s The Dreamers (2003). I am hesitant to recommend this because I have not read this, though I have watched the film; the M/M dynamic and LGBTQ themes do not seem to be the primary focus. Warning for sexual content and incestuous dynamics between the twins.

The Animals At Lockwood Manor by Jane Healey. Plays with gothic elements, set during WW2, F/F elements.

The Hours by Michael Cunningham. References Woolf’s Mrs Dalloway. Probably a good idea to read Virginia Woolf first.

The Immoralist by André Gide. Translated from French.

The Song of Achilles by Madeline MIller. Drawing from the Iliad, focusing on Achilles and Patroclus. Contemporary fantasy that would be a good pick for younger readers.

The Swimming Pool Library by Alan Hollinghurst. Gay life pre-AIDS crisis. Apparently contains a fair amount of sexual content.

What Belongs To You by Garth Greenwell. A gay man’s coming of age in the American South.

> LITERATURE: WORLD LITERATURE

American and Western experiences are more prominent in LGBTQ works, just due to the way history and the community have developed, and the difficulties of translation. These are English and translated works that specifically foreground the experiences of non-White people living in (often) non-Western societies. I’m not white or American myself and recommendations in this area are especially welcomed.

All Boys Aren’t Blue by George M. Johnson. The memoirs and essays of a queer black activist, exploring themes of black LGBTQ experiences and masculinity.

A People’s History of Heaven by Mathangi Subramanian. Female communities and queer female characters in a Bangalore slum. A very new release but already very well received.

Confessions of a Mask by Yukio Mishima. Coming-of-age in post-WW1 Japan. This one’s interesting, because it’s definitely at least somewhat autobiographical. Mishima can be a tough writer, and you should definitely look into his personality and his life when reading his work.

Disoriental by Négar Djavadi. A family saga told against the backdrop of Iranian history by a queer Iranian woman. Would recommend going into this knowing at least some of the political and historical context.

How We Fight For Our Lives by Saeed Jones. A coming-of-age story and memoir from a gay, black man in the American South.

In The Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. Another acclaimed contemporary work about the dynamics of abuse in LGBTQ relationships. Memoir.

Girl, Woman, Other by Bernardine Evaristo. Contemporary black British experience, told from the perspectives of 12 diverse narrators.

> POETRY

Crush by Richard Siken. Tumblr loves Richard Siken, worth a read.

Diving Into The Wreck by Adrienne Rich.

He’s So Masc by Chris Tse.

If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho, trans. Anne Carson. The best presentation of Sappho we’re likely to get.

Lord Byron’s works - Selected Poems may be a good starting point. One of the Romantics and part of the classical literary canon.

Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire. The explicitly lesbian poems are apparently in the les fleurs du mal section.

> MEMOIR & NONFICTION

And The Band Played On: Politics, People and the AIDS Epidemic by Randy Shilts. An expansive, comprehensive history and exposure of the failures of media and the Reagan administration, written by an investigative journalist. Will probably make you rightfully angry.

How to Survive A Plague: The Inside Story of How Citizens and Science Tamed AIDS by David France. A reminder of the power of community and everyday activism, written by a gay reporter living in NYC during the epidemic.

Indecent Advances: The Hidden History of Murder and Masculinity Before Stonewall by James Polchin. True crime fans, this one’s for you. Sociocultural history constructed from readings of the news and media.

Queer: A Graphic History by Meg-John Barker. It’s illustrated, it’s written by an academic, it’s an easier introduction to queer theory. I still need to pick up a copy, but it seems like a great jumping-off point with an overview of the academic context.

Real Queer America by Samantha Allen. The stories of LGBTQ people and LGBTQ narratives in the conservative parts of America. A very well received contemporary read.

The Argonauts by Maggie Nelson. Gender, pregnancy and queer partnership. I’m not familiar with this but it is quite popular.

When Brooklyn Was Queer by Hugh Ryan. LGBTQ history of Brooklyn from the nineteenth century to pre-Stonewall.

FILMS

With films it’s difficult because characters are often queercoded and we’re only now seeing films with better rep. This is a shortlist of better-rated films with fairly explicit LGBTQ coding, LGBTQ characters, or made by LGBTQ persons. Bolded films are ones that I think are likely to be more accessible or with wider appeal.

A Single Man (2009) - Colin Firth plays a middle-aged widower.

Blue Is The Warmest Colour (2013) - A controversial one. Sexual content.

Booksmart (2019) - A pretty well made film about female friendship and being an LGBTQ teen.

Boy Erased (2018) - Warning for conversion therapy.

BPM (Beats Per Minute) (2017) - Young AIDS activists in France.

Brokeback Mountain (2005) - Cowboy gays. This film is pretty famous, do you need more summary? Might make a good triple bill with Idaho and God’s Own Country.

Cabaret (1972) - Liza Minelli. Obvious plug to also look into Vincent Minelli.

Calamity Jane (1953) - There’s a lot that could be said about queer coding in Hollywood golden era studio films, but this is apparently a fun wlw-cowboy westerns-vibes watch. Read the reviews on this one!

Call Me By Your Name (2017) - Please don't debate this film in the notes.

Caravaggio (1986) - Sean Bean and Tilda Swinton are in it. Rather explicit.

Carol (2015) - Cate Blanchett and Rooney Mara are lesbians in 1950s America.

Clouds of Sils Maria (2014) - Hard to summarise, but one review calls it “lesbian birdman” and it has both Juliette Binoche and Kristen Stewart in it, so consider watching it.

Colette (2018) - About the bi/queer female writer Colette during the belle epoque era. This had Keira Knightley so by all rights Tumblr should love it.

Fried Green Tomatoes (1991) - Lesbian love in 1920s/80s? America.

God’s Own Country (2017) - Gay and British.

Happy Together (1997) - By Wong Kar Wai. No further explanation needed.

Heartbeats (2010) - Bi comedy.

Heartstone (2016) - It’s a story about rural Icelandic teenagers.

Henry Gamble’s Birthday Party (2015) - Queer teens and religious themes.

Je, Tu, Il, Elle (1974) - Early Chantal Akerman. Warning for sexual scenes.

Kill Your Darlings (2013) - Ginsberg, Kerouac and the Beat poets.

Love, Simon (2018)

Lovesong (2016) - Lesbian and very soft. Korean-American characters.

Love Songs (2007) - French trio relationship. Louis Garrel continues to give off non-straight vibes.

Mädchen In Uniform (1931) - One of the earliest narrative films to explicitly portray homosexuality. A piece of LGBTQ cinematic history.

Maurice (1987) - Adaptation of the novel.

Midnight Cowboy (1969) - Heavy gay coding.

Milk (2008) - Biopic of Harvey Milk, openly gay politician. By the same director who made My Own Private Idaho.

Moonlight (2016) - It won the awards for a reason.

My Own Private Idaho (1991) - Another iconic LGBTQ film. River Phoenix.

Mysterious Skin (2004) - Go into this film aware, please. Young actors, themes of prostitution, child ab*se, r***, and a lot of trauma.

Orlando (1992) - An excellent adaptation of Virginia Woolf’s novel, and in my opinion far more accessible. Watch it for the queer sensibilities and fantastic period pieces.

Pariah (2011) - Excellent coming-of-age film about a black lesbian girl in Brooklyn.

Paris is Burning (1990) - LANDMARK DOCUMENTARY piece of LGBTQ history, documenting the African-American and Latine drag and ballroom roots of the NYC queer community.

Persona (1966) - It’s an Ingmar Bergman film so I would recommend knowing what you’re about to get into, but also I can’t describe it because it’s an Ingmar Bergman film.

Picnic At Hanging Rock (1975) - Cult classic queercoded boarding school girls.

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019) - By Celine Sciamma, who’s rapidly establishing herself in the mainstream as a LGBTQ film director. This is a wlw relationship and the queer themes are reflected in the cinematic techniques used. A crowd pleaser.

Pride (2014) - Pride parades with a British sensibility.

Rebel Without A Cause (1955) - Crowd-pleaser with bi coding and James Dean. The OG version of “you’re tearing me apart!”.

Rocketman (2019) - It’s Elton John.

Rent (2005) - Adaptation of the stage musical. Not the best film from a technical standpoint. I recommend the professionally recorded 2008 closing night performance instead.

Rope (1948) - Hitchcock film.

Sorry Angel (2018) - Loving portraits of gay French men.

Talk To Her (2002) - By Spanish auteur Pedro Almodóvar.

Tangerine (2015) - About trans sex workers. The actors apparently had a lot of input in the film, which was somehow shot on an iPhone by the same guy who went on to do The Florida Project.

The Duke of Burgundy (2014) - Lesbians in an S&M relationship that’s going stale, sexual content obviously.

The Gay Deceivers (1969) - The reviews are better than me explaining.

The Handmaiden (2016) - Park Chan-wook makes a film about Korean lesbians and is criminally snubbed at the Oscars. Warning for sexual themes and kink.

The Favourite (2018) - Period movie, and lesbian.

Thelma And Louise (1991) - An iconic part of LGBTQ cinematic history. That is all.

The Celluloid Closet (1995) - A look into LGBTQ cinematic history, and the historical contexts we operated in when we’ve snuck our narratives into film.

The Miseducation of Cameron Post (2018) - Adaptation of the YA novel.

The Neon Demon (2016) - Apparently based on Elizabeth Bathory, the blood-drinking countess. Very polarising film and rated R.

The Perks of Being A Wallflower (2012) - Book adaptation. It has Ezra Miller in it I guess.

The Rocky Horror Picture Show (1975) - No explanation needed, queer and transgressive vibes all the way.

They (2017) - Gender identity, teenagers.

Those People (2015) - They’re gay and they’re artists in New York.

Tomboy (2011) - One of the few films I’ve seen dealing with gender identity in children (10 y/o). Celine Sciamma developing her directorial voice.

Tropical Malady (2004) - By Thai auteur Apichatpong Weerasethakul. His is a very particular style so don’t sweat it if you don’t enjoy it.

Vita and Virginia (2018) - Virginia Woolf and Vita Sackville-West biopic

Water Lilies (2007) - Celine Sciamma again! Teenage lesbian coming-of-age.

When Marnie Was There (2014) - A Studio Ghibli film exploring youth, gender and sexuality.

Weekend (2011) - An indie film about young gay love.

Wilde (1997) - It’s a film about Oscar Wilde.

XXY (2007) - About an intersex teenager. Reviews on this are mixed.

Y Tu Mama Tambien (2001) - Wonder what Diego Luna was doing before Rogue One? This is one of the things. Warning for sexual content.

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bazzaya · 5 years ago

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changing stripes - chapter 1

A series about the events after the fall of Tartaros from Sabertooth's eyes. Canon compliant, yet will diverge slightly from established events in canon. Minerva-centric, but still heavily features all of Sabertooth.

Summary: Much like a leopard cannot change its spots, a tiger cannot change its stripes. It's hard to break free of old habits, old lifestyles, but Fairy Tail has made one thing clear: Sabertooth cannot continue with their old ways. They'll have to do the impossible, and change their stripes.

A/N: yeah the ft game dragged me back into the series that hard, enjoy this multichap fiasco

Word Count: ~3.6k

[Ao3 Link/FFNet Link]

Please like + reblog! Comments on linked sites are appreciated too!

Enjoy!

There were tall, luscious trees as far as Sting could see, and there were just as many that he had already passed behind him. It felt like he had been walking for forever within this forest, and it concerned him to a small degree. It wasn't that he didn't trust his guide, but there was a voice in his head nagging at him, telling him that something might be off with this whole plan.

"Uh," Sting began, letting out a quiet grunt and scratching at the back of his head, "are you sure this doctor friend of yours is as good as you say she is?"

"Yes, I can personally attest to her skill," Erza responded, glancing over her shoulder back at Sting. "Why do you ask?"

Sting cleared his throat. "Well, it's just—we've left Lady Minerva in a place that's apparently in a desolate part of this huge forest, and… I just want to make sure that she's, y'know—alive and hasn't been cooked in a soup in a house of candy."

"Your imagination runs too rampant for someone who doesn't read, Sting," Rogue commented with a sigh.

"It's a reasonable concern! I don't know this doctor lady! She might be hungry!" Sting growled back.

Erza flashed a brief smile, exhaling a soft laugh. "Don't worry, I left Minerva in good and safe hands," she looked off to the side, her smile growing a bit playful. "Besides, Porlyusica is a vegetarian. The only threat Minerva is under is getting a broom to the head if she acts out and misbehaves herself."

"Whew! That's a relief!" Sting let out a pleasant sigh and closed his eyes, but such peace didn't last long, as his eyes shot wide shortly after giving Erza's words a second thought. "Wait! No, it's not! That doctor's probably hit Lady Minerva a thousand times by now!"

"Have a little faith in the lady," Rogue said, crossing his arms. "I'd wager a dozen times at the absolute most."

"That'd be impressive, if it were possible," Erza said. "However, most of Porlyusica's treatments are done while the patient is asleep, so unless Minerva dedicated her few waking breaths to causing a disturbance, she'll be fine."

Sting calmed himself and nodded his head with a deep breath. "You're right, you're right… I guess I'm just…nervous, or somethin'. I'm afraid we're gonna get there and find out Lady Minerva is an entirely different person, nothin' like the one we knew before. That'd scare the hell outta me."

"One doesn't change overnight, Sting," Rogue said pensively. "She may be committed to a new and better life, but that should not change who she is deep inside."

Sting looked away, grunting under his breath again as he folded his arms behind his head. "Yeah, well—my stomach is still in knots. I wish I could just pick her up and take her back home to Sabertooth without worryin' so damn much. I hate feeling like this."

Rogue could understand that, and he closed his eyes and dipped his chin. "If it's of any consolation, I feel the same way. I always wished for her to return to us, but now that it is finally happening, I cannot help but realize I never envisioned what would happen after she has returned. I have no idea how things will be like with her back. I can only hope we all can make amends and move forward…"

"And that's all there is that you can do," Erza said calmly. Her usual serious and confident tone was instead replaced with a gentler one. "It might take awhile for it to feel normal with her around, just as it might take her some time to grow accustomed to the guild again. I can promise you one thing, though. Should you or Minerva ever need it, I am happy to aid you however I can."

"Thanks, Erza," Sting said, grinning a little. "You're a real one."

"The same goes to you, as well," Rogue replied with a smile of his own.

"And thanks for looking out for our lady," Sting said. "We ain't even a part of your guild and you still went so far to snap some sense back into Lady Minerva and get her help after the battle. Means a lot that you'd put your neck on the line for one of our own."

Erza let out a small chuckle, scratching at her cheek. "Please, I think you're taking it a bit too far. Still, think of it as nothing," she glanced over her shoulder at the two of them. "Come now. It's about time she returns to your care, where she belongs."

Sting and Rogue both nodded their heads, determined to see their lady again. "Right!"

Only a few more minutes of walking remained until the three of them finally arrived at Porlyusica's house in the middle of a clearing in the woods. In addition to the dirt path that led to her doorstep, there also seemed to be another section of the land with no grass on it, arranged in a large rectangle, almost like a small battlefield. It must have been a place for Porlyusica's patients to practice magic. In fact, Sting noticed how some of the dirt was blackened and charred, as well as some small divots scattered across the battlefield. Someone has definitely used it for practice in the past.

Within a moment, Sting snapped himself out of his thoughts and jogged ahead of Erza towards the door, staring at it once he was close.

"This is it, right?" Sting asked.

"Yes, this is Porlyusica's house," Erza said.

Sting drew in a deep breath, steeling himself to knock. He raised his fist and brought it closer to the wooden door, ignoring the churning feeling in his stomach. He was mere millimeters away from knocking, but he jumped back at the last moment and turned towards Erza with a guilty, nervous look.

"Maybe it'd be better if your doctor friend saw a familiar face instead of some rando like me!" Sting laughed uneasily before dashing behind Erza and nudging her forward. "Go right ahead!"

Erza quickly regained her footing after the nudge and moved closer, clearing her throat and smoothing the front of her skirt before being the one to knock on the door. Rogue shot Sting a look after that little stunt, though his expression softened in understanding right before the door opened, revealing an older woman with pink hair.

"You sure took your sweet old time, Scarlet," Porlyusica sneered. Sting shivered where he stood, immediately intimidated by this old woman's demeanor. Rogue didn't show it as obviously, but his eyes did widen slightly.

Erza smiled nervously. It seemed even the great Titania was intimidated by Porlyusica as well. "Thank you for waiting for us to arrive. Er—she didn't cause you any trouble, did she…?" she asked with a hint of unease, unsure if Porlyusica's moodiness was brought on by Minerva, or that she was just being herself.

"No worse than the usual riffraff you've dropped off on my doorstep," Porlyusica sighed.

"Don't you worry, Titania," a voice said from somewhere inside Porlyusica's house. Soon Minerva's figure appeared by the doorframe, a hand on her hip. "I've been a good girl."

"Lady Minerva!" Sting bursted out in relief at the sight of her, a huge smile on his face. "You're not soup!"

"Sting!" Rogue admonished, swatting him in the arm. "Don't be ridiculous!"

Minerva raised an eyebrow at Sting before glancing back to Erza. "Did I hear that right?"

"Y-Yes, but don't pay it any heed. He's just happy to see that you've recovered and are well," Erza flashed a smile.

Minerva slowly nodded to that, glancing down at her hands. The black scales and markings that marred her skin as a demon where no longer there, and both her eyes have become visible again. Minerva looked to be her old self again.

"After a lot of work, we did find a way to return to my old appearance," Minerva said, her free hand rising to toy with the necklace she was wearing around her neck absentmindedly. "Your friend here is rather impressive in her knowledge."

Porlyusica didn't respond to that, only standing there with her eyes closed and that usual annoyed look on her face, but otherwise not displeased. That was a small victory, at least.

"You look good as new, Lady Minerva!" Sting said excitedly, balling his fists in front of his chest.

"Like Erza said, we truly are relieved to see you healthy and well again," Rogue said with a small smile.

Again, Minerva nodded her head, remaining rather silent. "You needn't worry any longer on my behalf. I'm just fine."

Amid the silence that crept up on the five of them after that, Rogue was surprisingly the one to break the quiet, clearing his throat and tilting his head. "Is that a new dress, Lady Minerva?"

"Hm, this?" Minerva glanced down at her outfit: a sleeveless black dress with golden flames adorning the sides. "It was a dress from an old patient that Porlyusica allowed me to have. It's not up to my usual standards in attire, but I can make it work—"

To that, Porlyusica hit Minerva over the head with her broom with a growl, causing Minerva to wince and rub the wounded area after.

"Be grateful to your elders!" Porlyusica shouted.

"I am, I am!" Minerva defended herself. "I only mean in reference to my personal aesthetic preferences—the quality is surprisingly of a high caliber and this certainly is no cheap article…!"

Sting, Rogue, and Erza all looked on as Minerva and Porlyusica bickered—or rather, Porlyusica complained and Minerva made excuses to save herself from Porlyusica's wrath. Sting spoke up to break up the banter before it escalated.

"Just askin' out of curiosity, buuut… How many times do ya' think she hit you with that broom, milady?" he asked.

"Have a little tact, will you?!" Rogue said in a hushed, angered whisper.

Minerva pursed her lips and glanced away, displeased. "...Thirteen."

"Fourteen!" Porlyusica dissented.

"No, the time that I switched places with you and hit you instead doesn't count," Minerva said.

Erza's eyes widened out of fear on Minerva's behalf. "Excuse me?"

Minerva sighed and gave Erza a dismissive wave. "Relax, I'm kidding. I didn't hit her after we switched places… I only snapped her broom in half so she wouldn't hit me again," she huffed and placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head. "Never thought she'd have a hidden collection of spares to use on me instead…"

Sting grinned smugly and turned to Rogue. "I win the wageeeer," he teased.

Rogue crossed his arms and turned his head away in a rare display of competitiveness instead of seriousness. "But my estimate was ultimately closer to the actual amount…"

Porlyusica ended this little spat with a loud clearing of her throat. "I believe it's time for my patient to be discharged and return home, away from here. I never thought the day would come where I would treat someone outside of Fairy Tail…"

Minerva took a quick step past the threshold of the doorframe, taking the hint to leave. She stopped before taking another step, turning back to Porlyusica and opening her mouth to speak, but she paused, averting her gaze and tensing up from unease. "You went a great deal out of your way to help me. I appreciate it," she said, her words delivered uncomfortably, yet still with genuine intentions. "I hope I wasn't too much of an inconvenience."

Porlyusica let out a sigh, but it wasn't like her usual ones of agitation. Rather, it was like a sigh of defeat, letting her cold exterior down for one moment after Minerva's words wore away at it. "As I said before, I've had worse people dropped on my doorstep. Mind yourself in the future so I won't have to take care of you again."

Minerva hummed under her breath, nodding her head and accepting what civility she was offered. She walked past Erza and toward Sting and Rogue, joining them so they all could make the trip back to Sabertooth.

Clearing her throat, Minerva shifted her weight to favor one leg, setting a hand on her hip. "Shall I teleport us back to the guild?"

Sting shook his head, smiling slightly. "Nah. Let's take the long way back. We're in no rush."

"In that case, I should probably guide you all out of the forest," Erza said, joining the three of them. "I hope you don't mind me tagging along for a little while longer."

"Not at all," Rogue said with a grateful nod. He then smirked slightly, a twinkle in his eye. "If Sting led us out of here while left to his own devices, I don't doubt he'd lead us straight to that candy cottage and we'd be eaten for dinner."

Sting recoiled to that at first, though he soon grew angry at Rogue's joke. "Hey! I'd smell that candy a mile away and I'd know to avoid it! I ain't a good side dish for soup!"

Minerva looked between the lot of them, confused, but slightly amused at the very least. She took another step forward, hoping they all would join her, but she was stopped by Porlyusica's voice.

"Hey, tiger lady!" Porlyusica yelled to get her attention. When Minerva and the others looked her way, Porlyusica continued with a barely-noticeable grin. "When I last treated Scarlet, she incurred the wrath of the broom twenty times, and she was only in my care for two days. Now, off with you! I want my peace and quiet back!"

Erza froze in disbelief after Porlyusica slammed the door shut, and soon all eyes were on her. Her face was red with embarrassment, and she gulped nervously. It didn't help that Minerva was smirking at her, gloating like her old self.

"Looks like I behaved myself better than you," Minerva teased, laughing under her breath.

"Th-That's debatable," Erza muttered, still embarrassed. "It was never my intention to anger her, but I just—somehow I always did…"

Minerva laughed louder, and Sting and Rogue couldn't hide their own amusement either.

"That's right! Our lady is the best!" Sting snickered, rubbing under his nose.

Erza huffed, walking forward and doing her best to brush off her humiliation. "We're leaving. Keep laughing, and I'll tell the witch in that cottage to cook you medium well."

"I-I'm sorry! It won't happen again!" Sting bowed his head repeatedly, asking for forgiveness.

"Way to have some backbone, Guild Master," Minerva said, but only in a playful tone.

Rogue smiled to himself, feeling a wave of relief to have Minerva among them again, and having her feel like a friend for the first time. "It's good to have you back, Lady Minerva."

Minerva blinked from surprise at the sudden sentimentality, though she flashed a brief smile and nodded in response. "Direct your gratitude toward Erza instead. She was the one who dragged me out of the dark so I could be standing here now."

"I couldn't have done that on my own," Erza argued, though with a lighthearted nature about it. "I can't make someone else open their eyes to the truth. They have to do that themselves."

Minerva dismissed that train of thought with a wave of her hand, ending the conversation there. Other unimportant topics came up, filling the air between the four of them on the rest of the walk until they left the forest, arriving in Magnolia.

"Be safe on the journey back," Erza told the three others. "Take care, and work hard."

"Same goes to you, Erza!" Sting said with a wide grin.

"You've been a great help, Erza. I hope we can meet again soon," Rogue nodded with a smile of his own.

Minerva looked at Erza too, pausing a moment before speaking up. She didn't want to say goodbye just yet—there was still something she needed to address.

"Porlyusica told me about what happened to Fairy Tail. It must be hard," she said, trying to be sympathetic.

"Yeah, talk about a real shame," Sting let out a ragged sigh. "Can't believe it's just gone like that.."

"Fairy Tail will never truly be gone. I still wear the mark on my arm, and my memories of it are still stored within my heart," Erza responded, setting a hand on her chest.

"That may be so, but still, tangibly it is no more," Minerva said, drawing in a breath. "I owe you for everything you've done for me, so at the very least, I have to make the invitation. You're always welcome to join us at Sabertooth."

"You've got what it takes to be a tiger! You'd fit right in with the rest of us!" Sting grinned excitedly.

Rogue let out a slight laugh, folding his arms. "You haven't even returned to the guild, yet you're already recruiting others for us. You waste no time getting reacquainted, milady."

Minerva cleared her throat, glancing back to Erza with an expectant look. Erza flashed an apologetic smile before closing her eyes.

"I appreciate the offer. Truly, it means a great deal coming from you, Minerva—but I'm afraid I have to decline. I don't know if I have the strength to join another guild. Not now, at least. Not yet," Erza said in a solemn tone.

"Aww, man. That's too bad," Sting hung his shoulders. "We would love to have ya'."

Minerva managed to smile for a moment even with the declined offer. "Well, since the guild dormitory will be closed, you're free to stay with me should you need it."

Sting held a hand to the side of his mouth and pointed Minerva's way, lowering his voice to a whisper to speak to Erza. "She has a mansion. It's huuuge."

"And even if you don't want to join the guild, I can always slide you a few job requests under the table," Minerva grinned playfully.

"That's very kind of you," Erza smiled back. "And also very illegal."

"I would focus on the thought behind the words instead of its legality," Rogue said with a nervous, yet amused look.

"I'll let it slide this once, but don't push it," Erza joked.

"Our doors are open anytime for you to drop by, got that? Not as a member, but as a friend," Sting said. "Please come over sometime! We have an indoor pool!"

Minerva raised an eyebrow, turning her head towards Sting. "We do?"

Sting's eyes widened when he realized Minerva hadn't seen the pool yet. "Milady, you have missed so, so much."

"Evidently," Minerva said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Which is why I shouldn't keep you any longer than I already have," Erza interrupted. "Don't wait too long. The sun will set before you arrive at the guild."

"Right. We'll be on our way," Rogue nodded. "Goodbye for now."

"See ya' soon! Hear that? Soon!" Sting said with a big wave.

Minerva opened her mouth, though she didn't find the words right away. "Wait, Erza."

Erza tilted her head. "What is it?"

Minerva paused to collect herself, lowering her gaze to the ground and swallowing a dry gulp. "Thank you...for everything," she said in a quiet voice, clearly unused to saying such things. "And…And I'm sorry for what I've done in the past. It's inexcusable. Truly, I don't know how or why I deserved your kindness to bring me here… But know that I do appreciate it."

"You needn't thank me nor apologize," Erza shook her head with a slight smile. "It's what friends do. The best way you can remedy your past mistakes is to be a better person from here forward. That's apology enough for me."

Minerva nodded slowly, gradually coming to smile. "Right. I'll do my best. Goodbye, Erza."

"Take care, Minerva," Erza said in return. "Now go. Your family awaits you back home."

Minerva's grin grew a little wider as she turned away, joining up with Sting and Rogue to leave Magnolia, as Erza stayed behind.

"Please visit our guild! And bring a swimsuit! Take a dip in our pool! It's become famous, you know! We got a huge story about it in Sorcerer Magazine!" Sting shouted as they walked away, too excited to stop even if Erza was quite a distance away.

"I don't mean to sound harsh, but I don't believe him in the slightest," Minerva told Rogue. "There's no way in hell he installed a pool inside the guild hall."

"Well…" Rogue trailed off, crossing his arms. "You're in for a big surprise when we arrive, then."

Minerva turned away, clicking her tongue. She looked to Sting in disbelief. "Tell me—if this pool is as big of a deal as you say, does that mean other people from outside the guild have come to use it?"

"I gotta turn away people at the door, the pool gets so busy from people wantin' to see it for themselves!" Sting bragged with a loud laugh.

"Have you at least charged outsiders admission to use it?" Minerva asked.

Sting's cocky demeanor vanished and he froze. "Eh? I can do that?"

Minerva let out a sigh, gripping the bridge of her nose and walking past Sting to take the lead. "I swear, if I were gone for any longer, the guild would fall apart without me…"

Sting and Rogue shared a look after Minerva's snide remark, but they quickly came to smile together, knowing that their Minerva was truly back.

"That's our lady!"

#writing misadventures #fairy tail #sabertooth #minerva orland #sting eucliffe #rogue cheney #ft fanfic #text #long post #guess who's writing again

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stillebesat · 5 years ago

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The Path: A Tale of Trick or Treating -Virgil (8/15)

Sanders Sides: Logan, Patton, Roman, Virgil, Deceit, Remus Sanders Shorts: Remy (Sleep) Cartoon Therapy: Emile Picani Blurb: You’ve been trick or treating at the Sanders Side’s homes for as long as you can remember, but this year things get a bit more…complicated. Fic Type: Halloween, Adventure Chapter 8 Warnings: Duke mention, injury mention, blood mention Author’s Note: This fic is told in Second Person.

Previous Houses: Remus(1) Patton(2) Emile(3) Remy(4) ???(5) Logan(6) Roman(7)

The Path.

Your mind is still spinning over Roman’s revelation six houses later. You’d been trick-or-treating this neighborhood since you were two! And only now you are discovering--You rub the golden coin between your fingers. “Where are you supposed to go?” You muse as you look up, realizing that you’ve finally reached the other Haunted House in the neighborhood.

But where The Duke’s home was terrifying, this place was...like walking up to a Scooby Doo Haunted Mansion. That didn’t mean that you hadn’t also been scared of this house for years.

However, you had learned three Halloweens ago after you’d tripped, skinned both knees, and spilled half your candy onto the street that the Shadowman, Virgil, was actually a pretty cool guy once you got past his gruff exterior.

You’d seen him come flying over the fence like it wasn’t even there after you fell, his cape trailing behind him like a freaking superhero as he crouched in front of you.

He’d moved so fast you were still convinced that he had smelt the blood rather than heard your stifled sobs like he’d claimed.

Before that year, you’d warily creep into the Shadowman’s yard and through the graveyard to the tilted coffin that acted as the front door to the house. A simple knock and the lid would swing open, revealing the Shadowman dressed like a Vampire with a large bowl filled with chocolate in his too pale hands, a trail of blood dripping down his chin. He never spoke. Only staring you down as you very carefully fished out a single piece of chocolate from the bowl.

Despite him always having your favorite in abundance, you were certain that if you took more than one he would attack, turning you into one of the undead before you could scream.

Three years ago, had shown you that the Shadow--Virgil wasn’t so...well...mean. He’d scooped you up and carried you back to his coffin, murmuring reassurances in a soft accented voice before he set you down on the edge. He’d pulled a first aid kit out of nowhere and bandaged your injuries as he told you little stories about his pet Tarantula and the time he’d woken up to find her on his face.

You’d laughed at that and his smile in return had totally transformed his face from terrifying Demon to Gentle Angel. Which was odd for a Vampire, but it worked for him. He’d given you half the bowl of chocolate to make up for your losses that night and sent you on your way once he was certain you’d be okay.

Now you stroll confidently into the graveyard, glancing over the pun filled grave stones, finding your favorites and noting the new additions that had appeared.

The one closest to Virgil’s coffin usually makes you chuckle but now you freeze in place taking in the simple phrase:

Pattey Caykes: Baked a Man.

A second cookie for your shadow. Patton’s voice echoes in your head.

You gasp.

The Shadowman!

Was--could it be--how had!!!-- Shoving the coin into your pocket, you dig desperately into your bucket, searching for the cookie that Patton had placed in there a couple hours earlier.

Was this another clue? Could you have stumbled upon another silent exchange between neighbors?

With a soft sigh of relief you pull out the cookie, only slightly smushed, and hold it to your chest like a talisman as you reach the coffin. You glance around to make sure no one else is present before softly calling out. “Shadowman?”

The coffin swings open with an ominous squeak and Virgil is there in his full Vampire getup, chocolate filled bowl in hand. “Hey, Fleshling.” He greets a hint of fondness in his voice.

You smile back, hands trembling as you hold out the cookie. “For you.”

His red tinted eyes widen, mouth falling open in a small ‘o.’

“Is this right?” You ask when he doesn’t move.

“How…” He gives the smallest shake of his head, taking the cookie, setting the bowl aside. “How did you get on The Path?”

You relax. So you had been right.

“I-I finally went to the Duke and showed the Marbles to Roman.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Of course it was Princey.” He mumbles taking a bite of the cookie.

“But he didn’t tell me to give you the cookie!” You quickly defend. “He only gave me a--”

Virgil growls, his hand covering your mouth in a flash, cutting you off. “The clues are for you only.” He says, reddened eyes nearly seeming to glow like the ones you’d seen in the Hedge at the Duke’s place. “Give only the item that applies to the individual. Nothing more. Got it, Fleshling?”

You swallow, heart racing as you nod. “Mhmm.”

What in the world had you just gotten yourself into?

He exhales “Good.” He pulls his hand away to dig into the folds of his cloak. “I never thought with how much you like candy that you’d join The Path.” He holds out a clear stone about the size of a quarter. “The hour is late and you’ve found yourself back at the beginning instead of near the end.” He intones softly, reddened eyes seeming to stare into your soul. “Do not be disappointed if you fail to complete the Path this Halloween for there will always be next year. Understand?”

You gulp but take the stone, turning it over in your fingers, watching how the edges catch the light causing it to sparkle.

Back at the beginning.

Did that mean that Roman and the Duke were later clues to this Path? But you’d seen The Duke before the other two! And Patton hadn’t known you’d come from his creepy house, so why had he given you the shadow clue? And if Roman needed the marbles that had to mean he came after the Duke. So how--you bite your lip, looking up. “Was Patton the first on…” You drop your voice. “The Path? Or is it someone else?” You had to know where the start was or else you’d probably spend the rest of the night running around in circles.

“The Baker begins it.” Virgil confirms in a soft voice. “Where he goes, I follow.” He tilts his head, red eyes softly glowing as he stares directly into your eyes. “Fleeing the light.” He flicks his eyes to the right, back the way you’d come from earlier.

Fleeing the light.

Was that another hint? It had to be. But what did a pretty rock have to do with light?

You swallow, holding up the stone, glancing to the houses you’d already gone trick or treating to. “And what happens to these things if I don’t--”

“They remain with you.” He says with a shrug as he picks up the bowl of chocolate. “Not all who step onto the path realize that they’ve done so. Some items are given never to be reclaimed.”

“Oh.” You whisper, placing the stone carefully in your pocket next to the coin. That could have been you, had you not shown the marbles to Roman.

You look back to him, squaring your shoulders. “I’ll complete it. This year.” You promise. You didn’t quite understand what this Path was, but hopefully with each new clue you would.

Virgil places a handful of your favorite chocolate into your nearly forgotten bucket, giving you a small encouraging smile. “We shall see.”

On to the Next House Diva(9) Duke(10) Prince(11) Picani(12) Logic(13) Deceit(14) ???(15)

Taglist in reblog

#The Path: A Tale of Trick or Treating #stillebesat #Sanders Sides #Virgil #Anxiety #duke mention #injury tw #blood mention #Halloween #Trick or Treat #2nd person pov

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thetravelerwrites · 4 years ago

Text

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.

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#Exophilia #Naga #Cheating #Angst #Hurt/Comfort

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