#you don’t get to tell women what to do and think
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
ICE raids are happening.
Any immigrants, no matter how long you have been a citizen of the USA, is at risk of being deported either out of the country as a whole or into what are basically concentration camps. Raids starting in Chicago, Illinois. and spreading to other major cities with high POC and Hispanic populations. The US Immigrations and Customs Enforcement (ICE) and Customs and Border Patrol (CBP) have started raiding homes and families in California.
There are no "protected locations" as of January 21, 2025. Hospitals, schools, and churches are all at risk of being raided, where before these places were deemed safe and off limits to raids.
When it comes to spotting an ICE agent, look for these:
Weirdly neat/well kept hair (shaved heads, side parts, military burs for men; low buns, high ponytails, close cropped bobs for women)
Oversized jacket (long and bulky outerwear makes it easier to hide tools/equipment without being suspicious)
Both hands in pockets
Many undercover agents/cops buy cheap plain clothes off the racks so they aren’t seen in their own clothes. This can make their outfit seem awkward
Sweatshirts with the hood up
Sports apparel (warm up jacket, sweats, etc) with non-sports clothes (jeans, cargo shorts)
Cargo pants/shorts (usually full of items like their badge, flashlight, taser, pepper spray, backup handcuffs, zip ties)
Military or hiking style boots, sometimes chunky sneakers (extra points if none of it matches anything in their outfit)
Outline of a gun in their pants/shirt (easy to see when bending, leaning, or raising arms) (NO NOT SAY ANYTHING)
Overly friendly
Overly inquisitive
“How old are you” and “what do you know about this happening” are both red flags, along with generally odd and personal questions
Don’t fit in
Mismatched pairs in public spaces (usually cops do these things in pairs. They don’t talk to each other or acknowledge each other much, if at all)
DO NOT SAY ANYTHING UNTIL YOU ARE 100% SURE
YOUR BEST BET IS NOT TO SAY ANYTHING UNTIL THE SUSPECT STARTS ACTING OFF AND GETTING PUSHY
COPS ARE NOT OBLIGATED TO TELL YOU THAT THEY ARE UNDERCOVER
COPS CAN AND WILL LIE TO YOU
SCREAM “LA MIGRA” AT THE TOP OF YOUR LUNGS
For protesting:
N95 masks
Respirator/gas mask if you have access to one
Water water water water water (I hate to say it, but disposable one use bottles are best here. If it comes to it, you need to be able to drop and run.) Use for flushing wounds, flushing eyes of tear gas, and of course drinking.
Snacks! You'll be doing a lot of walking and/or running and need to keep that energy up. Trail mix, dried fruit, nuts, granola bars, crackers, jerky/meat sticks, fruit snacks, candy, etc. Think of it like packing your lunchbox for a field trip.
Eyedrops (teargas is a bitch)
Goggles (I bring my old snowboarding goggles)
If you are wearing a t-shirt or have exposed skin, put on fake/temporary tattoos. If you are brought into something and they say you were there, showing a picture of you with the tattoos, show them where that tattoo would be and how there’s nothing there. How would you get rid of a giant flower on your forearm in 2 days anyways?
Hide your hair. I tuck my hair into my beanie since it’s short. If you have longer hair, try to do the same or tuck it into your shirt. Balaclavas are also a good choice, as they cover both your face and hair.
Power bank
Chargers
Helmet. Any is fine, my personal choice is a skating helmet since they’re rounder and can take more damage, but tactical is also good
Hand sanitizer
Gloves with hard knuckles (tactical gloves). These pack a good punch even if you don't have the correct form. Don't have those? Wrist guards for roller skating/skateboarding work kinda like that too. More of a slapping motion, but still hurt like a bitch. Extra points if they're all scuffed up from use and falls.
Bandanas. Somebody might need one for their face or hair, maybe you need to get dirt off somebody’s face, maybe somebody got injured. They’re great for anything and everything.
Cash (try to stick to cash, your card can be tracked)
Medications if you take them. If you get arrested or happen to somehow be away for longer than expected after the protest, it’s always good to have emergency meds
FIRST AID ALL THE FIRST AID (Tourniquet, Quikclot, chest seal, trauma shears, gauze, bandages, duct tape, and all the usual stuff you’d have in there)
Good shoes. Boots and sneakers are your best choices. Not heels, not platforms, not sandals. Good boots or shoes that won't come off your feet too easily when you run.
Spare socks. Trust me. You can use them to stop bleeding if it comes to it, but also you can put rocks in there and boom weapon. Also if the socks you're wearing get wet.
As much covering clothing as you can handle. Plain jeans, plain hoodie, plain t-shirt, keep yourself as anonymous as possible. Black is best.
Photocopy of your ID, not your real one.
Sunscreen!
Make sure your clothes have pockets, even if you have a bag. You want everything to be easily accessible.
Do not wear contact lenses. If tear gas is used, that will make everything so much worse. Wear your glasses or go blind. If you have overly unique or identifiable frames, goggles are your friend here. Get some goggles that will fit over your frames, preferably ones that are tinted.
If you use mobility aids, cover defining features. Logos, brand names, colors, stickers, all of it. Take some old plain t-shirt and tie it around your wheelchair’s backrest. Wrap your wheelchair frame in cling wrap, then duct tape, or plain black self adhering medical tape. Cover stickers on your cane or crutches the same way. Electric chair? You have a little more work, but you can do it. Wrap it up. Same idea. Walker? Same thing. Cover. It. All.
If you are bringing a bag, make sure that bag is as plain as possible. No pins. No patches. No keychains. Except maybe a pride flag so people know which team you're playing on.
Scarf or keffiyeh if you have one. They have many uses!
Write a reliable phone number (of someone who is not at the protest with you) on your body. On the off chance you get arrested, that is your emergency contact.
Pocket knife.
Pepper spray/mace
Anything you can throw. Soup for my family.
IF YOU CAN, LEAVE YOUR PHONE AT HOME
IF YOU HAVE TO TAKE IT WITH YOU, TURN OFF LOCATION SERVICES ON ALL APPS AND TURN OFF BIOMETRICS (FACE ID AND FINGERPRINT) SO YOU CAN ONLY UNLOCK YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR PASSWORD
COPS CAN FORCE YOU TO OPEN YOUR PHONE WITH YOUR FINGERPRINT OR FACE ID
MAKE SURE SOMEBODY KNOWS GENERALLY WHERE YOU ARE
If you see a potential or active raid, take pictures and note the time and location. Post online if you can, as well.
You have the right to remain silent. State that you wish to remain silent. Avoid giving information about anybody's immigration status. You have the right to refuse to sign anything before speaking to an attorney. You have the right to refuse searches of your car, your home, and yourself. Schools do not collect a child's immigration status.
I do not want to scare anybody, but this is what life is right now. That man does not care how long you have been a citizen of this country. If you are not a white, cisgender, heterosexual, Christian male, you are seen as less than by men in power. You are not less than. You are a threat to them, and they are scared. Keep it that way.
Here's the link to my post on what to bring in terms of first aid.
If you cannot attend protests, that’s fine. Do what’s best for you. Even just reposting information helps.
This is an updated version of this post,
#us news#us politics#american politics#project 2025#fuck trump#donald trump#president trump#trump administration#jd vance#trump#immigrants#immigration#protest#protests#civil rights#class consciousness#informative#information#long post#PSA#public service announcement#resources#the resistance#mass deportations#ice raids#la migra#know your rights
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Bless the Telephone ; ##04
James Potter x f!muggle!reader
word count: 1,163
warnings: none?
a/n: HELLO IM ALIVE- ummm did break up with my boyfriend, after spiraling for a week i am feeling much better! I did what was right for me and i am happier for it!! JAMES OR SIRIUS WOULD HAVE NEVER TREAT ME LIKE THAT! so yea I'm back :D thank you for putting up with my disappearances i should be uploading SEMI regularly just bc classes r in full throttle now
series masterlist
main masterlist
It hadn't been as difficult as you thought. Getting rid of Josh was a pending item on your to-do list for months. But for some reason or another, you never could, not completely. More often than not, he’d find some weak spot in your resolve, and crawl back in like a cockroach.
But not this time, at least not yet. After that day, when James’s call saved you from a bit of an uncomfortable situation, you managed to easily avoid his calls, if he knocked at the door Charlotte and you stayed unbearably still until he went away. He left voicemail after voicemail, called Charlotte’s phone with a bit more anger, and called your phone with crocodile tears.
But you weren't sweating it. You had fallen into an easy pattern with James, he’d fill the time that you would've been itching to fill and end up calling Josh out of boredom.
James was a good friend! At least that's what you’d tell Charlotte. She’d look at you with a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips that you ignored. If only she was so keen and observant with women that she liked, she tended to lack awareness often.
You didn’t dare tell her about the playful jabs, the comments you didn't dare label fully as flirty, or god forbid the butterflies that fluttered at the pit of your stomach every time he called, laughed, or gave you some stupid cloying nickname.
“Come on pretty- just tell me” You could hear the pout in his voice
You groaned in defeat, “Okay okay- if I had to be any creature…” You thought about it for a second more “Potter this is stupid”
“Indulge me”
You sighed “Fine, I think I would be… a witch”
“That's not a creature love”
“Well they are to me”
“I know a few that would be greatly offended by that comment” he retorted
“Oh yeah? You’re friends with witches?” you mirrored the smirk you heard in his voice
“Quite a few actually, nasty women the lot of them…” James smiled, thinking of his friends. How Marlene would probably flick the side of his head, and Lily would wholeheartedly just roll her eyes. Dorcas would definitely send a book flying straight to his head if she heard, not that she hadn't done that often enough during their time at school. It was always deserved. “love them nevertheless though- Pick something else, witches are human”
You hmph in disagreement and thought about it momentarily
“I don't think it would be very pleasant to be a werewolf you know? A bit inconvenient-” you thought out loud
“You don’t know the half of it,” he said under his breath
“Vampires sound kind of cool… wouldn't be able to go out into the sun though so that's quite a shame” James hummed in agreement “Maybe a mermaid, they’re pretty right?”
“Allegedly, they’re more scary than anything else- foul foul creatures” The ones in the Black Lake had messed with him more than once.
“Oh, what do you know Potter?”
“Quite a lot thank you- more than you anyway”
“And why do you think that? Mermaids aren't scary dummy”
“You say that because you haven't seen one pretty” James’s mouth was faster than his thoughts, he prayed you’d just laugh it off.
“Oh, and I suppose you have?” He slapped himself on the forehead as he thought of some excuse. The witches' comment he was able to get away with, maybe his tone had been too matter-o-fact.
“Well, yes I have!” he said, confidently, ironically. You started laughing, his worry melted away. Would you even believe him if he told you?
“Is that so? Well okay, what creature would you be Potter?”
“A hippogriff I think”
“What the hell is that?” James burst out in laughter
-
You could feel Charlotte’s eyes on you as you scooped ice cream into your lips. You focused on the cold chocolatey flavor and whatever movie she had found. You didn’t know what you were watching, you thought of James.
James and his stupid laugh, and the way he always called you pretty or doll or some other completely repulsive nickname you wanted to hate. But you couldn't. He was sweet, and he always asked how you were, after he found out about your roommate’s existence, he asked about her too.
“y/n”
“yes charlotte?”
“What does he look like? is he cute? Is he tall? I reckon that’s an important one with men is it not” you groaned as she launched question after question
“Char, I already told you I don't know anything about him”
“But you talk all day, every day” She scoffed
“It’s not every day- nor is it all day I have things to do you know”
“It is though, every bloody day, you come in and launch yourself at the telephone like clockwork” You stared at your pint of ice cream, suppressing the small laugh that threatened to leave your lips.
You felt a tad silly.
“It’s just-” You started to say, Charlotte leaned in with an excited smile on her lips as if egging you on. “It feels stupid, I could be getting totally scammed right now- sure he sounds young, and sure he said he’s twenty- but he could be anyone, anywhere”
“Let’s think about it though- you guys talk a lot he has to be in England no? Calls out are so expensive” She grabbed the pint of ice cream from your hands, shoving a spoonful into her mouth.
“That doesn’t change anything Char, I don't know him” She waved the spoon around dismissively. For someone who was so cynical about her own love life, Charlotte was always ready to be invested in yours. You never minded though, you were happy to bond over the raging disaster that it seemed to be.
“You guys have never thought about meeting up? You haven’t even talked about it?” You shifted uncomfortably as she wiggled her eyebrows “Have you even asked him what he looks like?” You took the ice cream tub back, shoving ice cream into your mouth
“We’re missing the movie y’know?” She scoffed at your weak attempt to change the subject
“As if I care about that- come on, you’re rolling in laughter every time you’re on that damn phone so there is clearly some chemistry there”
“So what I also have chemistry with circus clowns?” You said, turning to give her a deadpan stare.
“You know what I mean” She took the ice cream back
“What if I meet up with him and he kidnaps me…” she offered you the last few scrapes left in the tub. When you shook your head she ate it gingerly, a small smile on her face. “Suddenly I’m in the arctic tundra being trafficked”
“As long as it's not with Josh,” she shrugged her shoulders “I reckon anything is better,” she said, snorting
“You’re terrible” You both fell into laughter
tags ; @ilovejamespottersomuch @ravisinghs-wife @hidontmindtheintrovert @stella-thestars @caspiankingofnarnia @lovelyteenagebeard @starkluvrr @hisparentsgallerryy @leilani13gc @katsusayhi @auroresce @lovemiss-vale @alessiaparigim @unconventional-lawnchair @moonydoodlez @eissaaaa @ailoda @nahhhwhatthefrick @notapoetjustscar @hiireadstuff @the-rat-king1902 @n1ght-vngel @littlewhitel1es @rreporterbby
permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr
PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF I MISSED YOU I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR WEEKS AND I DID MY BEST TO COLLECT EVERYONE AHHHH thank you for reading <3
#harry potter#harry potter fanfiction#the marauders#the marauders era#marauders#marauders era#james potter fic#james potter oneshot#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james#james potter x reader#james x reader#james f potter x reader#james f potter#james fleamont potter#prongs#prongs x reader
184 notes
·
View notes
Text
SPEAK NOW . . . . gojo satoru .ᐟ
LYRICS. horrified looks from everyone in the room but i'm only looking at you ──────ex-husbands!gojo x fem!reader ⋆
NOTES. part two of this scenario, i think everything is a bit rushed so i didn't like it so much but anw, happy ending!! i wanted to write something angsty but ended up doing this, enjoy and thank you for the support <3 .ᐟ
Gojo Satoru’s heart had never raced as wildly as it was beating at this moment. The anxiety and nervousness coursing through him as he sprinted towards the venue where his ex-wife was getting married was unmatched.
Had you already said “I do”? Were you thinking about him? Had Megumi and Tsumiki managed to delay the ceremony long enough for him to get there on time?
A flood of questions swirled in his mind, none of which would be answered until he reached the place where you stood at the altar, dressed in for the white veil occasion with a man that didn’t deserve you in the slightest.
When he got there, a man in a suit stopped him, asking what did he want.
“I’m Gojo Satoru, i'm here for the wedding of Yn Ln and Kenji Hirano, where are they?” he demanded breathlessly, the desperation in his voice growing more evident.
“Oh, Miss Yn and Mr. Kenji are on the third floor, the main hall to the right and—” the man began, but before he could finish, the white-haired man bolted towards the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator.
Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes. Please don’t say yes.
The voice of an officiant became clearer and clearer as he neared the hall where the love of his life was about to get married.
“If anyone has a valid reason to object to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Satoru heard just as he reached the doors. A tense silence filled the room.
It seemed like his kids had executed the plan exactly as they'd rehearsed.
The man with ocean-blue eyes pushed the doors open dramatically, causing every head to turn towards him with horrified looks but Satoru didn’t care about anyone else in the room, his eyes were solely on you as he strode confidently to where you stood. Your surprised expression, as if straight out of a soap opera, met his.
“Satoru? W-what are you doing here? how did—?” you stammered, your eyes flickering briefly to where your kids stood, grinning in delight.
“I, Gojo Satoru, object to this wedding,” he declared, turning to face the man who was just minutes away from becoming your husband. Then, he shifted his gaze to the officiant as he added, “This man doesn’t deserve Yn, he doesn’t love her. And i don’t think she loves him either.”
“What the hell are you talking about, you idiot?” Kenji shot back angrily.
“I’m talking about how you’ve been using her all this time. Don’t think you can fool me, because i know you’re no saint,” Satoru said, eliciting shocked gasps from the crowd.
“Love, this man has cheated on you more than once, lying about loving you while sneaking around with other women behind your back,” he revealed, making your jaw drop in disbelief.
“What? Is that true, Kenji?” you demanded, your voice tinged with denial, unable to process what Satoru just said.
Obviously your fiancé immediately started to deny everything.
“Of course not! t-this idiot is just making things up to stop you from marrying me!” Kenji protested, growing increasingly nervous, so much that you began to suspect that Satoru was telling the truth but it was clear that your ex-husband was the only one being honest.
“I have photos, Yn, if you wanna see them. . .” Satoru began, pulling out his phone, but you stopped him by placing your hand on his.
Shaking your head, you replied, “You don’t need to show me anything. I believe you, Satoru.”
“You do?” he asked, hope lighting up his face.
“Of course i do, you would never lie to me about something like this. I know you, Satoru,” you said and the white-haired man smiled softly just as your kids ran up to join you both, leaving Kenji staring in disbelief.
“Let’s go, Mom! The car’s waiting,” Megumi said, and Tsumiki held up your car keys with a grin, making you smile softly as well.
“Well? what do you say?” Satoru asked eagerly, his eyes filled with that irresistible look you could never say no to.
The room buzzed with whispers as the guests ───and your family─── awaited your response.
You took a moment to think before soflty nodding, a soft smile gracing your lips. “Let’s go,” you said, smiling at the only man who had ever truly captured your heart.
With no hesitation, Satoru grabbed your hand, and the two of you bolted towards the exit, Megumi and Tsumiki following close behind as Kenji yelled after you, begging for you to come back.
This was a decision you knew you’d never regret.
BONUS .ᐟ
“You drive me crazy, angel,” said your now-boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, giving you a mischievous grin after what had been the best night you’d had in a long time.
Your bare body wrapped in nothing but a sheet, and the man of your dreams lying beside you made it feel like a dream you never wanted to wake up from.
“I love you, Satoru,” you murmured, looking at him with a smile as you leaned in to give him a fervent kiss. Satoru placed one hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, caressing it tenderly.
“I love you more, sweetheart,” he whispered, peppering your body with soft kisses, making you laugh and wonder how you'd ever thought of ending your marriage with someone as wonderful as him.
This time, Satoru wasn’t going to let you go, and you knew you’d never want to leave his side ever again.
© POETINTHELAKES 2025
#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo fluff#gojo oneshot#gojo scenario#gojo satoru#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo x you#gojo headcanons#jjk oneshot#tay writes for jjk#poetinthelakes
133 notes
·
View notes
Note
tired transmasc from earlier. My discomfort with those who believe in "transandrophobia" is not from self-hate nor from radfems. It’s from listening to transfems. And I don’t believe men or masculinity are bad at all!! I am in community with with men and mascs and with women + fems all the time. It’s just plain ignorant to say we don’t have male privilege and are actually oppressed for being men. We do have privilege. The whole "everyone is saying men are evil!!" thing sounds so much like incel behaviour it’s really off putting.
hello again! thanks for dropping by, let me see if i can help explain things better, and as to why it's not okay to put down other trans men and deny that they are experience oppression just because you, one person, believes they are not. dont take this personally, but much like gravity, you not believing in it doesn't mean it's not happening. it's happening, you're just refusing to acknowledge it. this is the equivalent of plugging one's ears and humming when someone else starts talking
i'm gonna call this behavior for what it is, because yourself & every other self-flagellating trans man & transmasc who says transandrophobia doesn't exist because it belittles trans women are just hurting people ON PURPOSE with a thin guise of saying "listen to trans women!!!!!" i really hope you understand that trans women can see through that. we can tell that you're doing this specifically to hurt people, not to give trans women a platform to stand on. you think you are telling people to listen to trans women, but what you are doing is SILENCING trans men & mascs in order to do that. you can't do that to your own gender. you're silencing yourself in the process. you're participating in transmasculine erasure and this is not a good thing. don't be proud of that. don't be proud of erasing the things your siblings go through.
I have to be really, really honest with you and tell you that this kissing up to trans women for brownie points stuff is really, really obvious and none of us like it. Like I'm not being mean. Please don't take this in a sarcastic tone. I am stock serious when I say that trans women & transfems can tell when you are doing things to pander to us to act like you care about transfems and transfemininity. We can tell this is desperate virtue signalling to not look transmisogynistic and nothing else. I'm serious. You are hating people on purpose with the guise of trying to help trans women. You do not have to silence someone else in order to let trans women talk and listen to them.
If you do not want transfems & trans women to be silenced: do not silence someone else. You do not solve this problem by silencing someone else. We solve the problem by listening to each other, not forcing the other to sit in silence while only one person talks. You don't solve the problem by doing that exact thing to someone else. You're creating a new problem.
privilege is a power structure, trans men do not suddenly shoot up from oppressed woman to neurotypical cishet white able bodied man in terms of status in society. i need people to get this into their heads that trans men do not and will not ever shoot directly up the privilege ladder and instantly become abusive and predator and holding power over all the other queers. like this is completely fabricated. you can stop believing that now, it's quite literally made up by trans/rad fems because they do not interact with trans men irl to see that they struggle.
trans men are not oppressed for being men: they're oppressed for being TRANS men. the trans part is what they're being oppressed for. do you not see transmascs and trans men as trans? because if so that is highly disturbing. and don't call that "regular transphobia" because that's not true and you know it isn't trans men and mascs are oppressed... for being TRANS men. seriously. you gotta stop focusing on "men bad" so hard that you literally forget that trans men are trans. back it up. like seriously i'm dead serious. back it up one step. before you focus on the "man" part, think about the "trans" part and how you're basically denying that trans men are trans because you are so wrapped up in radfem hate. TRANS men do not become cis men after they come out. they don't become cis men after transitioning. this, quite literally, is transandrophobia. what you said right there is an example of transandrophobia. sober up, you are not thinking clearly.
the thing is that we do not have male privilege wholesale as a group. that is a lie you have been told. you have to realize most trans men never gain any form of cishet male privilege. some trans men may pass well, but if the word gets out that they're trans, they are no longer respected or viewed as a man at all. especially if you're a man of color. trans men may have an amount of privilege depending on the situation, like being someone's manager, but it is not male privilege in every situation, nor is it anywhere near the privilege that cishet perisex white abled men have.
when we have this type of conversation, we are assuming that all trans men are 100% cis passing who will never be questioned. which happens, but that does not mean those trans men do not struggle. in fact, trans men like that suffer greatly in terms of reproductive care. cis passing trans men are often outright denied reproductive care, and some need that to live. some need to see a gynecologist for a variety of reasons, and being a cis passing man can shoot you in the foot. trans men struggle in health care almost universally. trans men are constantly misgendered in medical settings, and are very often treated as though they are cis women by medical staff no matter what. trans men and mascs are also very commonly assaulted by doctors and other medical professionals
most trans men do not get paid more at their jobs. trans men struggle to get promotions. trans men struggle to get employment in male dominated fields. most trans men still deal with homelessness, sexual assault, physical assault, domestic violence, addiction, misogyny and more. trans men deal with corrective rape. trans men deal with stalking. trans men do not magically have it better in society the second they come out. it creates a whole new host of problems
gaslighting strangers and telling them they're not being abused and oppressed isn't helping anyone. i'm serious. please stop this behavior because you are the one hurting people. care about trans men and mascs. you don't have to throw transmascs and trans men under the bus in order for trans women to be heard. we don't need to be pandered to like this. it's not flattering or helping anyone. you don't need to kiss up to people who literally hate your gender.
i need you to understand that people who talk like this hate transmascs and trans men. they don't like you. they don't care about you. leave those kinds of environments. you're going to regret it if you don't. if you're thinking about your oppression aaalllll day long its all you're ever gonna see and eventually, it's gonna crush you under its weight. be careful. that's dangerous thinking.
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Misdemeanor Of The Heart: Chapter 33 (Human!Alastor x Married!Reader)
CW: Fingering, nudity, consent is sexy
Prev Masterlist AO3 KoFi Show your support by leaving a tip, buy Kit a coffee
“I want to make you feel good,” you whispered, eyes wide and tearful, daring from where he held your wrists, then to his crotch, hardly looking different from it had before and then up to his eyes.
“No,” he said again, “I don’t- You don’t need to do-”
You pulled your wrists from his hands, his grip slack enough to let you do so easily, though he could have kept you in place. Leaning back, you wrapped your arms around yourself, hiding your chest as you curled into yourself.
You had been being a silly girl again.
He didn’t want you like that.
“I’m sorry, I- I thought-” You shook your head, tears spilling from your eyes as you looked everywhere but at him. “It doesn’t matter.”
Your knees shook as you stood, looking for anything you could use to cover yourself instead of standing before him naked. Tears dripped down your face, leaving burning trails of shame on your cheeks. Angerly, you batted them away, not noticing Alastor standing until his hands rested on your forearms and then on either side of your face.
Thumbs caressed your cheeks as he looked into eyes that refused to meet his. “What’s wrong?” he said, “Talk to me. Why are you crying?”
“It’s-” you forced yourself to smile, a bitter laugh you had intended to sound sunny bubbled from your chest. “It’s nothing. I’m just being a silly-”
“Talk to me,” Alastor reiterated, smile nearly wiped from his lips. “I cannot fix it if you do not talk to me.”
“I- It’s silly, I’m just being-”
“I’ll be the judge of that, but if it has you in tears, I doubt it’s truly silly so, stop saying that.”
You braved looking at him, peeking at the warm brown eyes that held nothing but worry. His eyes begged you to trust him, to open up to him, to give him just a little more. “Why don’t you want me?”
The words were so soft that Alastor nearly didn’t hear them. For a moment, he stood there simply looking at you as the impact of what he had done, what it had made you believe, washed over him.
“I do, ma cherie,” Alastor said simply.
“You don’t.” You were nearly weeping again as you shook your head in his hands.
The buzz of the electricity in the lights and the ticking of the wall clock seemed deafeningly loud. The sound seemed to drown out the roar of your pulse in your ears. You hugged your arms around you tighter, trying to shrink away. It was silly to think he would want you in the way a man wants a woman.
“I do,” Alastor insisted, leaning down to be more on your level. “I wouldn’t touch you in these ways if I didn’t.”
It was a lie, he knew that, but it was a lie he felt alright telling. He’d touched many women he couldn’t care less about, simply to see to it he had the right kind of reputation as a man or to manipulate them, to get something from them.
The difference was he didn’t dread touching you. He wanted to touch you. He wanted to hear the sounds you made. It wasn’t the right time for him to examine why touching you wasn’t a chore, why he wanted to.
“Why don’t you want me to-” You didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a harlot. “You’ve felt every part of me and I- I haven’t felt you. You haven’t tried to- to take me.”
“That has nothing to do with-” Alastor’s thumb smoothed over the damp skin under your eye as he tried to calm you.
At some point, he made a mistake, and you were hurting for it. He hoped to protect you, to comfort you, yet you were in tears because he failed to read your needs well enough. He had been selfish, taking his entertainment in pleasing you without considering what he could have been saying with his actions… or lack of action.
“If you don’t want me, that’s fine.” You spoke over him, wet eyes darting to the floor.
“I do,” Alastor pulled your chin up, forcing you to look at him as he spoke. “But Cher, what I do isn’t about me. I’m after your pleasure. I want to see you pleased. I want to bring you pleasure you never thought possible.”
“What about you?” You pressed, “If you do, why don’t you what to be pleased? Why don’t I ever feel-”
“I don’t need to be,” Alastor pulled you into his arms, holding your naked body to his bare chest as he backed you both back to the couch. When he backed up against it, he let his legs fold, pulling you down with him. He sat with you in his lap, keeping your body close to his. You were mildly aware of the slick smeared around your pubic area and thighs, surely smearing into his trousers as he shifted you in his lap.
“What does that mean?” You wiped the tears away, “Can you not?”
“I can,” Alastor was quick to assure you before falling silent. Seconds that felt like hours ticked off, marked by the deafening sound of the clock.
“Then why?” You whispered, too scared to ask if you were not pleasing enough to his eyes. Perhaps there was something wrong with you. There had to be, though he was too kind to say it..
“I don’t…” Alastor paused, head falling back against the couch as he sighed, taking his glasses off and letting the wall across from the couch become fuzzy.
He wanted her; he knew that. He wanted her not as a friend. He wanted her as a wife. He wanted her as a partner. He wanted her as his everything, and so she deserved to know what she was getting by picking him.
“I’m not consumed with the need to seek pleasure,” Alastor settled for saying, eyes straight ahead. “I can. I’m perfectly capable of functioning but I just… don’t. The drive isn’t consuming. I don’t need it.”
“I don’t understand?” you whisper, scared that if you spoke anything closer to normal volume you would shatter this moment of vulnerability.
“I don’t need it. What I need is for you to feel good. Your pleasure consumes me. Seeing to your needs drives me. I am satisfied with that.”
“And that’s why I dont… don’t feel you?”
Alastor shrugged, “I avoid that, when I don’t…” He hesitated, looking for the right word, “need it. It’s distracting.”
Silence ticked on as both of you seemed to wait for the other shoe to drop. “You need my pleasure?” You asked finally.
“Like air to breathe,” Alastor said simply. “It consumes me. Burns through my thoughts. It’s shameful how it haunts me.”
“What if… What if I needed your pleasure?” you braved resting your hand on the center of his torso, feeling his warmth and the muscles bunched under.
“You’ve been doing just fine,” Alastor rested his hand on yours, running both up his chest as he wrapped his fingers around yours.
“Just because I- I am doing that, that thing you make me do, doesn’t mean I’m not wanting more. It feels unbalanced.”
“I don’t need anything,” Alastor kissed the palm of your hand, “All I need to balance it is know you’re pleased and satisfied, that I am giving you something he cannot.”
“What if I’m not?” You tried to will the tears from your eyes, but they still flowed down your cheeks anew. “What if I want more? What if part of me isn’t satisfied?”
“You don’t need to do anything for me.”
“But what if I do?” You turned, facing him better and resting both hands against his chest to brace yourself. “What if I need to please you so I can feel like- like I’m more than I am in this?”
“You wish to?” Alastor asked carefully. “Truly? Not because you feel you have to? Not because you think I’ll leave without it? Not because you’ve been made to believe your worth is based on it?”
“I want to,” you pressed. “I want to know what it’s like to- to do those things with a man who loves me, who cares… with a man I love.”
Alastor was quiet for a moment before pulling you to his chest, nestling you against him. Hot skin burned against you while you waited for what he would say, to see if he would reject you again. He took a slow, deep breath and let it out with a sigh. You waited with your eyes locked on the mark you had left on his neck, scared to push harder and yet terrified of what he would say.
“I want to,” you whispered, slowly running a hand down his chest. “If you’ll let me, if I can?”
Alastor hooked a finger under your chin, pulling you to look at him as he spoke. “The moment you do not want to anymore, you stop. I don’t care if I’ve not… reached completion. It’s for you. For your enjoyment. Do you understand me?”
You nodded but Alastor sat frozen still until you squeaked out a soft word of agreement. As soon as you did, Alastor leaned forward and captured yours in a sweet kiss. His hand ran down your back and you gasped into the kiss. He wasted no time slipping his tongue between your parted lips.
Timid fingers ran along the buckle of his belt as he leaned back, pulling you with him. His hands were so strong as they lifted you, pulling you softly until you were straddling his lap. The smooth fabric of his trowsers under your naked legs, core hovering over him as he tasted you, drinking up the small sighs you let out while his hands roamed your back, holding you.
Bright brown eyes looked back at your still wet eyes as you pulled back, feeling his hand slide down and cup the swell of your ass. Leaning forward, you tried to remember all the ways Alastor had turned you into a gasping mess as you kissed his jaw and down his neck.
Hot, open-mouthed kisses you hoped were not just a pale imitation of what he did. You gasped as his back arched a little, his eyes closed as his head fell back as your lips moved over the surely sore place you had bitten him.
There it was. You felt it. Just a twitch, but it was there as your teeth ghosted over his skin.
Alastor pulled you tighter against him as his hand reached down from behind, running between your legs. Fingers caressed your folds as you kissed his neck, tentatively running teeth over flesh. Growing bolder by the moment, you worked the belt buckle free as you softly bit his neck, just above where you had sunk your teeth in before.
“You don’t have to do that,” Alastor whispered above you.
“Do you not like that?” You whispered back, grasping midway through as his fingers plunged into you from behind, three wide and spreading your opening easily. You rocked back into his hand before you understood what you were doing, sinking his fingers deeper into you.
“I-” Alastor started before changing direction, “It’s not needed,”
“That’s not what I asked,” you whispered, grazing him with your teeth again as you felt the twitch of him.
“I just need a few moments to feel you enjoying yourself,” Alastor said as he worked his fingers in and out, long arms giving him the reach to do so while you were working your mouth on his neck.
Whatever his feelings on you biting him, you knew it got a reaction even if he wouldn’t talk about it. That’s alright, you decided as you moaned in his ear, his other hand caressing your clit from the front. In time, you would learn every way that Alastor liked to be touched.
“You’re so wet,” Alastor whispered, head leaned back and Adam’s apple bobbing. You couldn’t help but kiss it. “You’re dipping.”
Looking down your body and between your legs, you saw he was right. Shame burned through you for a moment, only to be quickly replaced by something else burning as you watched the long, clear glob of slick swaying from your opening. Alastor’s fingers continued working in and out of you as you watched the glob reach his pants.
You hadn’t realized the orgasm was sneaking up on you until it hit. Your arms gave out, and you had little chance but to ride it out, laying on his chest as your legs trembled and twitched, The weight of your body and the force of his hand working in and out of you was all that kept you on your knees though they spread wider, lowering you closer to him.
Your pubic mound grazed him as you twitched, rocking with his hand as waves of pleasure coursed through you. You gripped his trousers as if they would somehow ground you as you cried out against his neck.
There was another twitch, stronger, and something remained as you ground against him. It was happening. He was responding to you. That realization caused you to clench around his fingers, still working in and out of you with lewd squelching sounds as a second orgasm chased the first.
It was too much and god; you craved more. You felt like every part of you was breaking apart with the force of it as you felt him again, becoming firmer under you while you cried out his name. His focus on what he was doing was razor sharp, head to the side to give you room as you writhed in his lap.
Part of you wondered if he was trying to work you to the point of insanity so that you’d not have the energy to please him. Perhaps he was, but you could feel him now and that kept the fire inside you burning. You needed to have him, though you did not know what you were doing in practice.
It terrified you how much you wanted something that you knew caused pain. For him, with him, the pain would be worth it. You wanted to suffer through the pain if it made him feel even a fraction of how good he made you feel. It would be worth the pain.
And what if it didn’t have to hurt? What if being with a man as a woman didn’t have to be painful? What if the pain was something unique to your husband? What if he brought the pain knowingly?
Tears gathered in your eyes as you reached out for something to keep you from floating away. His hands working on your sensitive skin wouldn’t be able to keep you grounded. All you could think of was gripping him with your teeth as he worked you through the high, since your hand wrapped around his arm and the waistband of his pants wasn’t doing enough.
Your mouth opened as you gasped, head pulled back as he continued working his fingers into you. Your body ran from the sensations as you partially laid against his shoulder. The smell of him surrounded you, the soft skin of his neck brushed against your lips as you tried to catch your breath. And then, you acted without a thought, sinking your teeth into his neck, near where you had bitten earlier.
Alastor groaned at the feeling, hips bucking up into you before he caught himself. His hand gripped your hip to hold you steady as the twitch under you became something more solid, something that held promise, though you didn’t understand what of.
“There you go, dear.” Alastor whispered, his voice full of gravel as you let go of him with your teeth. “Are you pleased to have me awake for you? What are you going to do now?”
In truth, you didn’t know what to do next. You wanted him, but being with him was something you didn’t know how to do. He kept letting you lead. You were walking an uncharted path, and it terrified you not to be following his lead, to not have him telling you what to do.
“You’re in control,” Alastor said, grabbing your hand from the waistband of his pants. He guided your hand down between your bodies to where he was straining against his pants. Your slick was warm under your fingers as you wrapped them over his covered shaft. “There it is.”
“I’ve never,” you whispered, looking up at him. “I want to, but-”
“Do you want me to guide you?” He offered, throwing you a life raft.
“Please?” You whimpered, wanting to be so much more for him.
“Alright,” Alastor slipped his fingers from your still fluttering hole and leaned you back. “Unbutton my pants, then unzip them.”
You did as he asked, moving slowly and looking to him for reassurance as you pulled the opening wider. The trail of hair reaching to his naval was rooted far below his waistband, short and neat. With timid touches, you shifted his pants until he sprang free.
For all of your marriage, you had done your best to avoid looking at your husband’s manhood. It had caused and promised pain. It wasn’t something you had touched, but it had touched you plenty of times. The general shape and form of what men carried wasn’t something surprising to you.
Anxiety rolled in your stomach as you came face to face with Alastor, standing tall between your bodies. This would bring you pain. It would hurt you. You would endure the pain if it would please him, if you could return just a fraction of what he did for you.
Alastor was a tall man, though lean. You hadn’t known what to expect since he had been sizable while flaccid. Now that he was harder, he was larger there, too. His tool would have looked cartoonish on a smaller man, but right on him. It twitched under your gaze, as if responding to the way you examined it.
“Did you just wish to see it?” Alastor asked as he watched you.
“No, I-” Your face was so hot it felt like it could light a match.
“Let’s start together then, shall we?”
When you timidly nodded, he took your hand in his. You trusted him. Alastor would not hurt you any more than he must for you to give him the pleasure you wanted. He could guide you. You would suffer through whatever pain that would come, you would weather.
Alastor wrapped your hand around his manhood. Your hand was so small in his that he nearly covered it with his own. It wasn’t the hard steel that you had known to be rammed into you, but you didn’t brave asking why his skin felt so soft under your fingers. You had already pushed him for so much. If you asked anything more of him, it would surely be too much. It was better to not ask questions.
His hand guided yours in caressing the length of his shaft as he spoke. You could feel each vein as he ran your hand over his soft skin, toward the slight mushroom shaped tip. A drop of wetness smeared under your fingers as he guided them over the slit at his tip before he brought your hand back down his shaft. His grip tightened over your hand as he guided your hand on a slow journey up his length again.
“I’m sensitive here, but it’s not likely you’ll hurt me, at least not without trying.”
Each pass of your hand along his length had him twitching and becoming firmer in your hands. He watched, eyes trained on your face as he took his hand away. Reaching up, he caressed your face, urging you to loop up from your task.
He pulled you toward him as your hand worked timidly, but independently, along his length. There was a flush on his cheeks, ever so slight as his lips met yours. To kiss him more soundly, you had to raise up on knees planted on either side of his legs.
Each time your hand worked down his shaft, quickly turning to velvet covered steel in your hand, his tip brushed the inside of your thigh. The head of his cock and part of his shaft smeared in your spilled slick, leaving traces of the moisture gathering at his tip in the process.
It would be so easy to seat him inside you, you realized. You loved Alastor and because of that love, things like this felt good. That was what he had taught you, shown you. It had felt good to have his fingers inside you, to have his tongue inside you. It would surely feel good to have him inside you, too.
You hadn’t realized how close you had come to spearing yourself on him until his lips pulled from yours and his hands gripped your hips tightly, halting your slow sinking before the head of him could do anything more than brush against your lips.
“No,” Alastor’s voice was thick, naked of accent and full of gravel. “No.”
That one word caused you to flinch back from him, shock and fear crossing your face. You had misread. You hadn’t understood. You had thought-
“I’m sorry, I-”
Alastor shushed you with a kiss, leaning up but not letting his grip on your hips weaken. “It isn’t that I do not- that it isn’t something I want with you, if you wanted it. And you clearly do. You’re dripping on me even now.” Your face flushed as you realized he was right. You could feel your slick dripping onto his cock and your hand around it.
“I’m so-”
Alastor cut off your reflexive apology. “It’s not a bad thing. It means you want me. But Cher- I can’t. We can’t. We can do anything and everything but that.”
“Why not?” You struggled to not whine and to hide the hurt from your voice as it felt like a vice was gripping your heart in your chest, threatening to crush it.
“I’ll not have intercourse with you while you’re still married to him. I can’t- I won’t risk my seed taking root and him acting as father to my child.”
“Then we’ll never-”
“Not while you’re married,” Alastor leaned up, kissing you hard as he guided you to sit on his thighs. His cock stood tall and imposing between you, still held in your hand. “What else would you like to do? How else would you like to give me pleasure?”
You were not sure what to say or do. “What do you like?”
“I like whatever you’ll enjoy doing. I am yours to explore, to learn what you like to do with.”
“You had- you used your mouth on.. on me, before.” You whispered, too timid to meet his eyes. “Is there something like that for me to do to you?”
Alastor was silent for a moment before speaking, “If you’d like. Not all find the act enjoyable to perform. Men and women both can use their hands to bring themselves and eachother to completion. And their mouths on eachother to do the same.”
“I want to,” you decided, not sparing a second to think of the logistics of what you were asking to do. All you were focused on was the fact that Alastor had used his mouth on you, bringing you to the height of pleasure that you were only just beginning to learn existed. If he could do that for you, knowing surely what bodily functions happened in that region, surely you could do the same for him.
Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!
#Alastor x reader#Alastor x you#alastor x y/n#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x you#hazbin alastor x y/n#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x you#hazbin hotel alastor x y/n#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor hazbin x you#alastor hazbin x y/n#human!alastor#human!alastor x reader#Human!Alastor x y/n#human!alastor x you#human alastor#human alastor x you#human Alastor x reader#Human alastor x y/n
73 notes
·
View notes
Text
NOWHERE GIRL
PART FOUR
kang sae-byeok x fem!reader
synopsis: after facing an intense altercation, it leads you to another one of sae-byeok’s interrogation.
wc. 1.8k
warnings: homophobia, acts of violence, smoking, angst
(nowhere girl masterlist)
The sun was right above your head, scorching it. The brightness of the sun blinds your vision as you make your way to the dining hall. Although everyone around you couldn’t stop talking about how hot the weather is today, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about your brief encounter with Sae-byeok two nights ago.
You kept replaying your time with her at the convenience store. It was an uneventful experience funnily enough; you two sat down in front of the store window quietly eating your food. It seems like there is nothing to analyze about this exchange, but to you, you liked it because of the sheer tranquility. No talking which meant no bickering, you both just sat down sharing the serenity that comes with midnight. You haven’t felt that much peace this past month. A part of you hopes to get that feeling again soon.
Just as you turn a corner into the alleyway you feel yourself bump into a person twice your size.
“Sorry.” you quickly apologize to whoever you collided into and try to usher around them only for them to block you with their body. Eyebrows furrowed, you peer up to see who’s preventing you from walking away.
The guy who is blocking you is tall and buff, freshly buzzed cut, tattoos littering around both his forearms and a cigarette between his teeth.
“You’re Yoon’s friend, right?” he asks, his voice exuding mockery. Two of his friends appear behind him like a couple of bodyguards. You scowl but your mouth refuses to open to talk.
“Yoon told me she let you sleep over at her dorm because—I don’t know you got kicked out of the house or something? Do you mind telling me and my friends why that is, hm?”
“You know the answer to that. Don’t mock me.” you whisper, voice trembling. Your little act of bravery isn’t working.
“Don’t talk to me like that, you fucking pervert.” he sneers. “You came up with that bullshit excuse of getting thrown out by your parent’s house so you can watch Yoon and her roommates change.”
“What?” you gape.
“That’s the problem with people like you…Well, I can’t in good conscience let you go around harassing women for your sick pleasure. Can’t I?” he looks at his friends who grunt in approval.
“Fuck you I never did any of that shit!”
You try walking backwards to escape the situation only to have the guy grip on your arm and squeezing it tightly. The grip he had on you was so tight you were beginning to feel afraid that he might actually rip your arm off of your body. Tears brim from the corner of your eyes and you begin to cry out for help.
“Stop acting so innocent now. You know what you did—and we are the only ones who can fight this injustice your inflicting upon people.”
“Let me go!” you cry, basically plead. “I never did anything you said. P—Please.”
Everything around you suddenly turned white and when you got your field of vision back to normal suddenly you were on the floor. Realization quickly crept up—you just got punched by the main guy, hard. As his friends roar with laughter, he uses one hand to pull you back up by your collar.
“I don’t like liars.” he tuts and with his free hand he grabs the cigarette between his teeth. “I don’t have anywhere to light off this cigarette.”
“Really?” one of his friends speak up, faking an act of innocence. “You got something right here.” he points at you.
They all begin to laugh again while you’re still squirming and hyperventilating. Your vision becomes blurry as you whip your head around hoping that a bystander notices you are in danger and come to rescue you but you see no one. The only thing you can do is think quickly or this situation will turn out even uglier.
You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the three guys, past their shoulders. “Officer right over here!” you shout to no one in the distance.
The guys all whip their heads behind them in fright, thinking they just got caught. That’s when you use your free hand to snatch the cigarette from the main guy and press the burning end of the cigarette on the hand that’s gripping yours. Instead of letting go though, the guy yelps and trips on air causing you both to collapse. You quickly spit in his face, making him flinch back and shout curses at you. He was cursing so loudly that his own spit struck your face.
You manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp. As you crawl away from him, you grab the pack of cigarettes that fell from his pockets then absolutely book it.
Run, run, run is all your mind is thinking. Run, run, run and don’t look back for a second.
✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿
Sae-byeok thought it was nice of her to spend her only free time to walk to the convenience store with you the other night. After that quiet excursion, she expected you to start coming back to the apartment at a reasonable time.
But no one, not Sae-byeok, not Cheol, or even Ji-yeong has seen nor heard from you today.
Before Ji-yeong pointed fingers at Sae-byeok again she hurriedly explained that she actually settled things down with you, which was a half-lie half-truth situation. Of course, she didn’t buy it. In order to prove herself, Sae-byeok joined Ji-yeong who sat outside the apartment to wait for you. But it was almost one in the morning and Ji-yeong had work in the morning so she dialed your phone one last time, if you didn’t answer she’d go back to the apartment and report you as missing the next night. However, Sae-byeok decided to wait a little longer seeing as she doesn’t have to do anything but drop off Cheol at school tomorrow.
Thirty minutes later, Sae-byeok watches a shadowy figure walk in the direction of the apartment building. She holds her breath, anticipating it was you. When the person got closer she saw the familiar portfolio tote and laptop, that’s when she knew.
Sae-byeok’s face morphs into confusion when notices how you were stumbling, like it was hard for you to walk.
“Are you alright?” she asks. You just kept trudging until you made it to the staircases where you inevitably sat down. Slowly, Sae-byeok makes her way towards you. Something was off she could sense it.
“Yeah.” you say barley above whisper. But she isn’t buying it. She sits beside you, trying to look at your face but you look the other way before she can notice something. “What’re you doing?”
“Are you sick or something?”
“No, it’s just—hey!”
Sae-byeok pushes strands of hair back and caught the purple shiner imprinted on your cheek. You gasp and clumsily cover yourself again.
“Shit.” she says breathily. “What happened?”
You hug your chest and stare down at your knees in shame. Sae-byeok of all people shouldn’t have seen you like this. Now there’s no way around this.
“Some guys from my school cornered me in the alleyway.” you reply weakly.
“Why?”
“Long story.”
Sae-byeok doesn’t pry any further. You didn’t tell her some bullshit excuse like slipping and hitting a table. You actually sounded…truthful?
Besides, she can sense you’re still in pain and talking about the reason why you’re in pain isn’t going to help you. So, she rises to sprint back to the apartment. You wonder if she’ll come back with Ji-yeong so they can get an answer out of you. Instead, she comes back with an ice pack, two pain killers pills, and a bottle of water and quietly passes it off to you.
“Thanks.” you mumble and swallow the pain killers while pressing the ice pack on your cheek, wincing. You both sit in silence like this for a minute, that’s when you start to feel your chest grow heavy. “…Is the bruise that bad?”
Your vulnerability and pleading made Sae-byeok’s heart sink. She won’t admit it—but something about how fragile you sounded reminded her of a younger Sae-byeok, back when she first came to South Korea.
“Yeah.”
Sae-byeok doesn’t approve of your attire. Only because even though it’s spring time, the night breeze is still cool enough to make someone shiver. You were currently wearing a green frilly skirt that sat above your knees paired with an oversized graphic shirt. The scrape on your knee was still dry with blood, you kept looking at it and tried pulling your skirt to cover it, it was obvious you weren’t comfortable.
“Where are you going?” Sae-byeok asks when you got back up and started walking away.
“I don’t wish to bother you so I’ll just be at the twenty four hour cafe that’s a few blocks away.”
Sae-byeok doesn’t get you. She feels like she’s about to go mad.
“Hey, what’s your deal?” Sae-byeok asks. You pause walking and spin on your heels to look at her. “Could you quit being reckless?”
You don’t understand her. Sae-byeok isn’t obligated to look after you. You actually feel quite bad for making her stay up this late.
“I’m not—I don’t think I am.” you murmur and lower the ice pack cooling your bruised cheek.
“You are.” she says bluntly. “You’ve been acting suspicious from the start, you keep running away and now all of a sudden you came with bruises and now that I’ve seen them you try to run away again?”
That’s the most you heard her speak. You don’t know if you should feel honored or embarrassed.
Sae-byeok stands up, her guards are up you just know it. Her posture straightens and her dark sharp eyes bore right into your skull like she’s trying to get into your head. Your breath hitches so you take a few steps backwards.
“I’m trying not to disturb you more than I already have these past few days. I feel like I’m breaking everything I touch so...” you trail off. Sae-byeok remains immovable.
Apart from the suspicious bruising littering your body, it hits Sae-byeok that she has nothing on you. She can’t risk living dangerously anymore now that she has Cheol under her care, but could you really threaten their way of living?
“You’re limping.”
“I should be fine these are my comfiest sneakers.” you say. “I’ll be back in an hour. I promise.”
Sae-byeok rolls her eyes. “I have to come with you now.” she says like it is the most obvious option. “Or Ji-yeong will blame me again.”
You have a feeling that she’s hard headed when it comes to decision making. So silently, you let her trail behind you as you make your ways towards the cafe in the brisk of midnight.
🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6
#kang sae byeok#kang sae byeok squid game#kang sae byeok x reader#kang sae byeok x fem!reader#squid game#squid game fanfic#wlw#wlw fanfic
103 notes
·
View notes
Text
I Dwell in Possibility (Casey Novak x f!Reader)
Synopsis: Your aunt Liz warns you to stay away from her ADA. Too bad for her, you'd never been good at doing what you're told.
Words: 9.3k
Warnings: Forbidden romance, reciting poetry, oral (R giving), hickeys, swearing, possessiveness, alcohol consumption, secret relationship, strap (R receiving), dirty talk, angst, hurt/comfort
“You’re not my aunt.”
The woman looking up at you from the low sofa was not the one you were expecting. Strawberry blonde hair shining in the overhead light, fierce green eyes, full pink lips, she was the kind of woman that would devastate your heart with so little effort. Leaning your hip on the doorway, you checked the door again, certain you were in the right place. It was just like you remembered from all the hours you’d spent staying out of trouble under the watchful gaze of your aunt during your more rebellious years as a teenager.
“Not last time I checked,” the mystery woman said.
Her eyes swept over you, assessing in a way that made your nerves vibrate. Your teeth sunk into your lower lip, letting her look her fill, hoping you’d pass muster. You didn’t even know her name, and yet you wanted this woman’s approval.
“I didn’t realise Judge Donnelly had a niece,” she said, her voice a low timbre.
“I have two, and don’t even think about it.”
You whirled, finding your aunt standing behind you, the kind of look that once had you quaking in your boots on her face. Instead, your face split into a huge grin. Her face softened upon seeing you, not in a way most people would notice, but she’d been your favourite person by the time you’d graduated high school and moved away for college. She was the only reason you’d managed to get in somewhere decent. Somehow, despite all your raging against The Man, she’d kept you on track. Your sister had never understood your relationship with her, being one of the people who quaked under her gaze.
“Guess who’s back,” you said, giving her some nice jazz hands to drive your point home.
“No wonder the amount of the trouble in the city has increased,” she said.
“You missed me. Just admit it,” you said, knowing you were being the kind of cheeky that could get you told off.
She sighed but her embrace was tight. You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of her perfume. You’d missed it more than you could possibly put into words.
“So you finally finished grad school,” she said once you’d drawn away.
“I’m a bonafide doctor now. No way you can go around telling everyone I’m your wayward niece. You can just admit I’m your favourite without shame,” you said.
“And you’re a doctor in what?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Something very interesting and not at all practical, just like God intended,” you said.
She shook her head but you saw the way her lips curled up into a smile. She finally entered her office, you trailing after her. The woman, still an unknown, had been watching with a rapt attention that kept making your skin prickle. Your eyes darted down to her, teeth sinking into your lower lip again.
“Please tell me you haven’t returned to the city looking for a hand out,” your aunt said as she sat in her chair behind her imposing desk.
“I’ll have you know I have actual employment like a productive member of society,” you said.
She scoffed but it was the fond kind, not the kind that said you were in danger. You were achingly familiar with both.
“No, seriously. My supervisor knew a guy in the English department at NYU and put in a good word for me,” you said, “I’m teaching intro to the Romantics this year.”
“A worthwhile endeavour I’m sure,” she said.
“Hey, critical thinking is an important skill. Plus, reciting poetry always goes down well when trying to score a date,” you said, falling back on the couch. Only as your arm brushed hers did you remember someone was already occupying it.
“Tell me you didn’t spend all those years at college just to pick up women,” she said with an eye roll.
“That wasn’t the only reason. It was just an added benefit.” You winked at the woman sitting next to you, lips pulling up into a smirk.
“Get out,” your aunt said.
Your eyes shot back over to her but she was looking at the woman beside you.
“You asked me to come see you,” she said.
“Later,” she said.
She stared at your aunt for a moment before she collected up her papers back into the file they’d originally come from. You watched her leave, appreciating the pencil skirt she was in.
“Who was that?” you asked once the door was closed and you knew she wouldn’t hear you.
“ADA Casey Novak and if she knows what’s good for her she’ll stay away from you,” she replied.
“Aw, are you getting all protective, Aunty Liz? You’ll be putting Dad out of a job,” you said.
“Oh, I’m trying to protect her. You’re a hurricane of trouble,” she said.
“Maybe I’ve grown up. It has been a while since I’ve lived here,” you said.
“Stay away from my ADA,” she said, using her commanding voice.
She should have known better. You’d always wanted what you weren’t allowed. And you wanted Casey Novak.
Over the next few weeks you were around your aunt’s office a lot more, traversing the halls as you reacquainted yourself with the building. Keeping your eye out for a certain strawberry blonde, you’d wander around as you waited for your new job to start. Your aunt, doing her best to ignore what you were doing, put up with your impromptu visits with grace.
Sitting in on one of her trials, you found yourself coming face to face with Casey Novak again. Or rather, you could lean back and watch her dominate in the court room. It sent a flutter through your body and an itch in your fingers to sink into her. She was magnificent, a sight to behold, a lion taking down her prey with a precision that was breathtaking.
And from her pursed lips, your aunt was not happy about your presence there to see such a display.
“What are you doing here?” she asked after calling a five minute recess.
“I came to see you in action. I like watching you scare the little people,” you replied, “tell me, I’ve always wanted to know, do you practice that scowl in the mirror or does it come naturally to you?”
“You don’t care about my scowls. You couldn’t keep your eyes off a certain ADA I warned you to stay away from,” she replied.
“Aw, you do care,” you said, “you seriously think I’m going to ruin your ADA?”
Something interesting settled in her face, arms crossed over her chest. You sighed, looking away from her.
“If it means that much to you, Aunty Liz, I won’t do anything with her,” you said, knowing that giving up one gorgeous woman was the least you could do for the woman who kept you from making all the wrong decisions with your life.
She gave you a small smile, one of the fonds one that let you knew you’d made the right decision. It was the kind she gave you any time you came back with an A on a test she’d helped you study for. You sighed.
“But you owe me one. She is insanely hot,” you said, but you were smiling and the sting wasn’t so bad when it was your decision to follow the rules.
You left the courthouse, knowing you had prep work to do before the semester started. No more stalking the halls hoping to run into Casey Novak by “coincidence” and strike up a conversation that might end in her bed. She was just another gorgeous woman who would remain a ‘what if’.
It was easy to push thoughts of her to the side in the flurry of semester beginning. You couldn’t believe how much work went into teaching a college course, your sympathy going out to every professor you’d ever had. Especially those teaching your intro classes, when freshmen came in with all the confidence they hadn’t earned.
“When did becoming devil’s advocate become the cool thing for boys to do?” you asked.
Your aunt looked up at you from over the rim of her glasses, looking less than impressed with your question. You sighed, slumping back against her sofa. On one of the few days you weren’t teaching, you’d sought refuge in the only place you knew would offer you both a slap over the head and a warm hug. Using the pretence of lunch, you’d brought her food and your frustration.
“Okay, sure, they’ve always kind of been like that but now I have to hold my tongue and not go off on how stupid they are,” you complained.
“Yes, because now you’re the adult in the room,” she replied with all the judgement held in her body in her voice.
“How do you manage it?” you asked, looking at her again, “I’ve seen some of your cases. You’ve dealt with some real…”
You couldn’t find the right word.
“Assholes?”
You turned, finding the only woman in the city you were forbidden from even thinking about standing in the doorway. Your aunt’s eyes darted to yours then back to Casey Novak and you saw the warning there.
“You said it, not me,” you said with a small laugh.
The way she stepped into the room had you forcing yourself to look away. Her hips were swaying with a cockiness you’d attempted to pull off plenty of times and had never quite managed. If you kept staring you might never stop.
“Did you need something, Casey?” your aunt asked.
“The Jensen case,” she replied.
“I’ll get out of your hair,” you said, standing, collecting up your rubbish.
Your shoulder brushed Casey Novak’s as you passed her, a jolt of electricity going through you. Your gaze caught on hers as you passed and you felt your breath still.
It was a good thing you loved your aunt so much or else you’d be in trouble.
Taking yourself out for coffee was becoming one of your Saturday traditions. A worn paperback in your hands and a corner table with your caffeine fix and some kind of pastry was easily becoming your favourite part of your week. It was early enough in your weekend that you didn’t feel guilty for not having started on any of the work you still had to get done for Monday morning. You could relax, taking time for yourself.
“Is this seat taken?”
You glanced up, expecting someone looking to steal the other seat and take it to their table. Instead, green eyes were looking down at you, pretty pink lips curling up into a half smile. Casey Novak, in jeans and a t-shirt, hair pulled back, was standing before you in the morning light, looking like a dream come to life.
“Not at all,” you said.
She sat, legs spreading just enough to make you wonder if she was doing it on purpose. Leaning back in the chair, her eyes slid over you, leaving fire in their wake. You took a slow slip from your coffee, tongue dragging over your lower lip as you put the cup down.
“Is there something I can do for you, ADA Casey Novak?” you asked when her gaze darkened.
“You can start by just calling me Casey,” she said.
She thanked the waiter as he placed a coffee in front of her. You watched her take her first sip, her eyes closing in bliss. She placed the cup down again, turning that burning gaze on you.
“So what do you want, Casey?” you asked.
“Knowing your name would be a start,” she said.
The way it sounded on her lips as she repeated it made you shiver. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip again and you saw her focus on it, leaning forward slightly. The heat that went through you was searing and the throb was insistent, keeping time with your racing heart.
This was dangerous.
“Judge Donnelly is very determined to keep us from running into one another,” she said, a soft hum of a voice.
“So you thought you’d hunt me down to see what all the fuss is about?” you asked.
“Call it a happy coincidence. I was passing by, you happened to be here, no planning involved,” she said, “so your aunt can’t crucify me for taking the opportunity to say hello.”
“Do you always do what you’re told not to do?” you asked, tilting your head towards her.
“Not always. Only if it sounds fun,” she said, her smirk making your heart flutter. This felt too much like flirting.
“You’re going to get me in trouble, ADA Casey Novak,” you said, leaning away from her.
“Nothing wrong with a little trouble,” she said.
Certainly not when trouble looked like a smirking Casey Novak.
“And besides, who needs to know? I don’t see you ratting us out to Donnelly,” she said.
Her fingers brushed over the back of your hand, sending sparks up your arm. Your lips parted as your hand flipped, offering her your palm. They traced over it, the feeling of her touch burning through you. You weren’t proud of yourself for giving in so easily, but pretty women had always been your downfall.
“I promised her,” you whispered.
“We’re not doing anything. It’s just coffee,” she said, the definition of temptation.
“You’re used to getting your way, aren’t you?”
“I’m used to getting what I want,” she said and you found it intoxicating the way her eyes smouldered as they looked at you.
“I suppose she didn’t say anything about not having coffee together,” you said slowly.
Her satisfaction was obvious in the smug set of her shoulders. You laughed and something in her face brightened.
“What are you reading?” she asked, nodding down to your book as her finger continued to trace patterns into your palm.
“Frankenstein,” you said, nudging it closer to her, “I can’t read poetry every moment of every day.”
“Do you really recite it to pick up women?” she asked, picking up your old book, the spine cracked to the point it fell open in her hand.
“Thy soul was like a star and dwelt apart/thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea,” you recited to her.
You saw a flush bloom high on her cheeks, eyes sparkling as she seemed to lose whatever smart comeback she had. You grinned, hiding it behind your coffee cup, lowering your eyes in a show of false modesty. You liked seeing her a bit flustered, finding it enchanting.
“I suppose I can see the appeal,” she said eventually.
“Wordsworth has yet to fail me,” you said, fluttering your eyelashes at her.
She pushed your novel back across the table to you and then downed her coffee. Her fingers threaded through yours, palm to palm, making you feel like you were losing control of the situation already.
“Did your aunt happen to say anything about ice cream?” she asked.
You shook your head, teeth sinking into your lip again. She grinned, standing, pulling you with her.
“Then let me show you the best ice cream in the city,” she said.
Later, when she’d managed to convince you to return to her apartment with her, she tasted of danger. And trouble. And everything that could destroy you.
When you returned home early Monday morning you were buzzing. You could still feel her lips on your skin and her taste was burnt onto your tongue. Hickeys littered your body and you were deliciously sore. You still smelt like her and you wanted her perfume to linger on your skin for as long as possible.
Maybe Aunty Liz had been onto something about staying away from her.
When she called on Tuesday night you didn’t hesitate to pick up. Lying on your couch, drink in hand, you pressed the phone to your ear as her smokey voice whispered to you.
“Please tell me your day was better than mine,” she requested without even a hello.
“I suppose that depends on how your day was,” you said.
“My case got thrown out,” she said.
“That sucks. Sorry,” you said, “I had a student tell me that only men know how to write romantic poetry.”
“Do you write poetry?” she asked.
“Only of middling talent,” you replied, “nothing worth repeating.”
“I’m sure that’s not true. You are a doctor after all,” she said with a small laugh.
“That brag was for my aunt, not for you,” you replied but you were chuckling too.
“Lucky me for being in the room,” she said.
A knock sounded on your door.
“Hang on,” you said, standing up with a groan.
Pulling the door open you should have been expecting the woman on the other side of the door but you hadn’t been. Her lips pulled up into a smile and you held the door open wider for her. Her fingers brushed the back of your hand as she stepped inside.
“I’m going to have to call you back,” you said into the phone, “a devastatingly sexy woman just arrived.”
She tossed her cell phone on the couch with a laugh. Your hands landed on her hips, pushing her back until you had her pinned to the wall. Her hands cupping your cheeks dragged you up onto your toes to kiss her, long and slow and deep. She hummed into the kiss, the vibrations going through you.
“Make me forget my day,” she requested when you finally pulled away.
You dragged her to your room, more than happy to oblige. You lowered her onto the bed, crawling up her body. Your hands were seeking her skin, pushing up under the skintight turtleneck she had on. Just the sight of it was driving you crazy, remembering the feeling of her curves in her hands. You kissed her again, not able to stop yourself.
She sighed when you pulled her shirt over her head, your hands finding home on her skin. Your thumb brushed over her ribcage from your hand’s place on her waist. Your lips ghosted down her body, feeling her tremble.
“There witching beauty greets the ravished sight/more gentle than the arbitress night,” you whispered into her skin.
She made such a soft noise, one that suggested her chest was caving in. You brushed your lips over the curve of her breast, enjoying the way her breathy moan spurred you on. Wrapping your lips around one peaked nipple, you laved attention on her. She arched into your, fingers winding though your hair. As you sucked, your name fell like a curse from her lips.
Your fingers were quick as they unbuttoned her slacks. Slipping your hand into her panties, you stroked through her folds. Her hips pressed up against your hand, wordlessly begging for more. You kissed across to the other breast, finding the yellowing hickey you’d left only a few days ago. With your tongue, you circled her other hardening nipple, teeth grazing over it for a moment.
“You’re so good at that,” she groaned, fingers tightening in your hair.
You grinned against her as you finger found her clit. Her breathy sigh was gratifying in ways you couldn’t put into words. Slowly, you kissed down her chest, hand slipping from her panties as you grasped her hips. You dragged her slacks down long legs you still remembered curling around you on the weekend.
“You’re so beautiful,” you said, looking up her body.
Your mouth made contact with her throbbing cunt. Keeping a tight hold on her hips, you pressed closer, tongue sweeping through her folds. You moaned at her taste, still addicted to it, the novelty of having her like this not yet having worn off. Staring up your body, you watched as her eyes squeezed closed, fingers fisting in your comforter.
Your tongue dipped into her entrance and a shaky curse fell from her lips. She was so beautiful as her face contorted with pleasure. Wrapping your lips around her bundle of nerves, you suckled as she whimpered above you. You held her in place, refusing to let her use you the way she wanted. You were going to take care of her.
Lifting her legs over your shoulders, you pressed her into the mattress. You couldn’t get enough of her, wanting to spend hours with her doing this. When she came, it was with your name on her lips, the sound of it going right through you.
You were slow to kiss back up her body, finding her lips waiting for you. She kissed you with an enthusiasm that had you groaning. Flipping you, she gazed down at you, lips pulling up into a smirk that was growing familiar.
“You’re entirely too clothed,” she murmured.
“You’d better do something about that then,” you said.
The next morning you woke with her arm flung around your waist and her face buried in your neck. It wasn’t a conscious decision to begin running your fingers through her hair, but when she pressed closer with a soft sigh you didn’t feel the need to stop. You closed your eyes again, nose burying in her hair, breathing in the scent of her perfume again.
“I need to get up,” she mumbled, lips brushing your skin.
“Don’t,” you whispered, “stay.”
“I can’t,” she said, “I need to go fight for my case to be reinstated.”
“You can do that?” you asked.
“If the detectives have found new evidence,” she replied, slow to sit up.
Your eyes tracked over the swathes of skin on display, feeling your mouth water. Something about Casey was addictive to you, making you desperate for more even after hours spent indulging in her body the night before.
“So committed,” you murmured, fingers tracing down her spine, “that’s pretty fucking hot.”
She turned, looking over her shoulder at you. Dark eyes swept over your body, half exposed from where the covers had pooled around her hips. You arched your back, offering more to her gaze.
“And if I win and this rapist goes behind bars, I’ll come back to celebrate with you,” she said.
“Promise?” You tried to smoulder, the way she did that made you feel electric.
She smiled, leaning own to press her lips to yours.
“Promise,” she whispered against your mouth.
She called you by the end of the week. You dressed up all pretty, in a nice dress and a nice pair of heels, hoping to make her head spin the ways yours always did. Meeting her at the restaurant, your breath caught at the sight of the smile she gave you. Then it moved double time as an appreciative look came into her eye.
“If this is what I get for winning a case, I think my conviction rate will go up,” she said, gaze slow to move down your body and then up again before meeting your eye, “you look breathtaking.”
You took her in, the silk dress clinging to her curves, her hair swept up in an elegant undo. Green was certainly her colour. Reaching out, your finger ran along the chain of the necklace she was wearing, watching the way a flush rose to her cheeks.
“You shouldn’t be allowed out like this,” you murmured.
“You don’t like how I look tonight?” she asked.
“I like it entirely too much,” you said, finger stopping at the base of her throat, “the things I want to do to you…”
“There’ll be plenty of time for that later,” she chuckled, “patience, sweetheart.”
“I can be patient,” you replied.
“I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?”
Seated across from her, it was hard to look away. Her foot brushed your calf, sending a jolt through you. The way she was looking at you over her menu suggested you were what she was hoping to devour. You’d let her.
Placing your order, she took you through the trail, her voice soothing where the details were traumatic. Her foot kept bumping against yours under the table and each time her lips would quirk up. You found yourself leaning towards her, not able to stop yourself. Her gravity seemed only to affect you.
“But you didn’t ask for a blow by blow of the case,” she said, shaking her head after the food was placed down in front of you.
“I like listening to you,” you said.
“You do?” she asked, a surprise look crossing her face.
“Is that really so surprising?” Your fingertips brushed the back of her hand before retracting, “you have a way with words and the kind of voice I could listen to for hours.”
Something broke over her face, cracking open into a look of wonder. Your breath caught, not sure what to do with such a lovely expression on such a beautiful face. It was baffling that you could bring that out in someone like her.
“I’m beginning to see why your aunt wanted to keep us apart,” she said.
“What do you mean?” That was not what you were expecting to say.
“She knew I’d never let you go once I had you,” she said.
Your face softened into a smile. Reaching across the table, you threaded your fingers through hers, enjoying the feel of skin against skin. Her fingers tightened around yours, squeezing for a moment before she released you, beginning to eat.
“And here I was thinking the poetry was the way to seduce you, not the compliments,” you said, picking up your own fork, “might have to switch tracks if I want to keep you around.”
“I like the poetry,” she said, eyes darting up to you.
“And if I was reciting it to someone else…?” you prompted, wondering what was going through her head.
“Are you?” she asked, her gaze sharpening.
“Would it matter if I was?” you asked in response.
“I don’t like to share,” she said, her voice lowering, making you press your thighs together.
You took a slow sip from the wine she’d ordered. Her eyes darkened, lips pursing in a way that suggested you might be in trouble.
“So tell me, sweetheart, have you been reciting your poetry to someone else?” she asked.
“Not recently,” you said.
“How long?” she asked, and you were worried you were walking a razor edge with her.
“A few months,” you replied.
“What happened a few months ago?” she asked but you saw her lips begin to curl up into a small smile.
“I met a beautiful ADA and despite trying to be good, she was very convincing in tempting me to be naughty,” you replied.
She lent forward, her hand finding yours again. Tugging it up, her lips pressed a lingering kiss to your skin, making your breath catch. Your foot bumped hers under the table.
“Do you regret it?” she asked.
“I’m not sure I could ever regret you, Casey Novak,” you replied.
“So you don’t want to stop?” she asked.
“When Aunty Liz finds out, we’ll deal with the fallout then,” you said.
“When?” She raised an eyebrow at you.
“If you’re planning on never letting me go, it’ll have to come out eventually. We can’t keep it a secret forever,” you said.
“Eventually.” Her lips pressed to the back of your hand again, “but for now I want to keep you all to myself.”
The thought was pleasing. You held her gaze for a long moment, the weight of it all crashing into you. Your heart thumped in your chest, tripping over itself. You saw possibilities sparkling in her eyes, and the potential future you could build spiralling out before you.
“Who from the cup of amorous delight/dashes the sparkling draught of brilliant delight,” you murmured before taking a sip from your glass of wine. The way she looked at you was like you were something from out of space, beautiful and wonderful and completely unknowable. It was a heady mix.
She didn’t let you return home all weekend.
You slipped back into the monotony of your work come Monday, working through what you should have done on the weekend. It had been easy to forget the stack of papers you had to mark when her mouth was on you and you were gasping her name. It should have scared you, how easy it was to lose yourself in her, but you’d known the first time you’d seen her that she could render you into nothing. You welcomed it.
On Wednesday morning, when a note was sitting on your desk, you rolled your eyes. Curt, to the point, three words that gave you all you needed to know. You put it aside, booting up your computer.
Your aunt didn’t bother standing as you slid into the chair across from her. The food in front of you was what you’d always ordered, your favourite thing on the menu. Especially when she was buying.
“You summoned?” you said, raising an eyebrow at her.
“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was worried you’d gotten yourself into trouble,” she said.
“I don’t remember you being my parol officer,” you said, taking a bite of your lunch.
“Nothing you feel the need to tell me?” she asked.
“How about you just tell me what’s on your mind and then I can tell you. Or not, depending what it is,” you said with a wicked grin and a small shrug.
“You always go to work with a hickey on your neck?” she asked.
“Only if I had fun the night before,” you said, which you had.
“Do I want to know?” she asked.
“Are you asking for details about my sex life, Aunty Liz?” you shot back.
“Please, I’m trying to eat,” she said, indicating her soup.
“Don’t ask if you don’t want to know,” you said, “so why did you really ask me for lunch?”
“It’s my duty to check in on you. If not, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll get into,” she said.
“Don’t pretend, I know you care. You worry about me.”
She didn’t answer but you knew the truth.
“Are you going to tell me about the girl who’s giving you fun nights?” she asked after a moment of silence.
“Eventually, I’m sure,” you said with a small shrug, knowing you couldn’t tell her, “all you need to know is right now I’m very happy.”
“Clearly.” Her gaze lingered on the hickey you hadn’t bothered covering up that morning, “you know, you’re not the only one who’s coming to work looking less than presentable.”
“You got something to tell me, Aunty Liz?” you poked, trying not to grin at her like a menace. Her beleaguered sigh only made your grin grow.
“ADA Novak has worn the same outfit twice in a row more than once over the last few weeks. Right around the time you stopped calling me incessantly,” she said.
“Lucky girl,” you said.
“And you know nothing about it?” she asked.
“I made you a promise,” you said.
“So it’s just a coincidence?” Her penetrating gaze made you shift in your seat. You’d never been good at lying to her.
“Seems like it.” You looked down at your food, “it’s not a shock two hot women happen to both be getting laid.”
“Okay, you can stop.”
“Good because neither of us is enjoying this,” you said.
She was more than happy to drop the topic. You moved on to much nicer things, like work and how your mother was repainting her kitchen much to your father’s annoyance. She had strong opinions on your sister’s latest boyfriend. You did too.
It was easier when you weren’t talking about Casey.
You started being more careful. You kept the hickeys to places you couldn’t see with your clothes on. She left early enough to get home or brought a change of clothes with her. And you made sure you were never seen anywhere your aunt might be.
Mostly, you spent time in her apartment, curled up in the bubble of the whole thing. You couldn’t understand why your aunt had been so against you seeing her. Everything about her was wonderful, and you’d never felt so sure about a decision before.
“Listen to this,” you said, looking over the top of one of the essays you were marking, “‘he made nature a woman because as everyone knows women are weak and they break under the passion of a man’s love.’ Can you believe that?”
“Yes,” she said, “you should hear some of the stuff men say to justify what they do.”
“I couldn’t do your job,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.
“That’s why I do it, and why you talk about poetry all day,” she said.
“Is that judgement I hear?”
You placed the essay down, crawling towards her on the couch on all fours. She lent back, watching you with the kind of look in her eye that made you want to submit to her. Her legs spread, offering you the perfect place to stop. Your hands on her knees helped you to push up, drawing closer to her.
“Do you think I don’t have a real job?” you asked, “that I’m just a silly artist who contributes nothing to society?”
“You contribute plenty,” she said, one hand gently cupping your jaw, forcing you to look up at her.
“Do I?” you asked.
“Keeping me happy makes me better at my job. You do your part in putting away all the bad guys,” she said, slow to lean towards you.
“Better make sure you’re on top form tomorrow then, hadn’t I?”
Your marking could wait.
Casey let you stay at her place when your heating went out in the middle of winter break. Curled up in her bed, book in hand, half sprawled against the headboard, you let the hours pass. The door opened and closed again. Looking up, your eyes itched and you realised it had gotten later than you’d expected.
“Hey,” you said when Casey appeared in the doorway.
She looked exhausted, the slope of her shoulders, her heavy footsteps. Your heart ached for her. Her fingers weren’t careful as she unbuttoned her blouse, dropping her slacks to the floor. You still stared every time you saw her naked body, not quite believing you were allowed to see it. She was so beautiful.
She wiggled under the covers, depositing herself on top of you. Her arms curled around your waist, cold hands pressing to your skin as the buried under your sweater. Her face was buried in your neck. With your free hand you stroked a long line down her spine before curling your arm around her waist, feeling her let out a long sigh.
“Long day?” you murmured, lips brushing against her temple.
“Don’t want to talk about it,” she replied, muffled against your neck, arms tightening around you.
“Okay,” you said
In a soft voice, you began reading your book out loud to her until her breathing began to even out. It took a while, her muscles slow to relax. You would read to her all night if it would help, whatever she needed. When she finally dropped off, you gazed down at her, finding yourself enraptured. This was the kind of moment you made sure was burned into your memory.
You ignored the way she made you feel. You pushed away the thought that you were falling for this woman. Even as you knew it was true.
The wolf whistle that passed through your lips was loud. You grinned when Casey’s steps faltered, her eyes seeking you out. She sauntered towards you, an extra swing to her hips when she found you. Leaning back against the pillar you’d been waiting against, you watched her, not even bothering to hide your appreciation.
“I thought I saw you earlier,” she said, coming to a stop in front of you.
“I had to drop something off with my aunt. Thought I’d sneak a glimpse when I got the chance,” you said.
“And?” Her head tilted to the side, crowding you against the pillar without touching you.
“And I think you’re something amazing,” you replied.
Her free hand reached out, fingers tangling with yours.
“Bit risky doing this when your aunt is just inside,” she said.
“She’s stuck in court for the next little while,” you said, “plus, it’s been months and she hasn’t brought it up again. I think we’re in the clear.”
“Lucky us,” she said.
“So can I take you to lunch?” you asked.
“Are you sure that’s wise?” she asked.
“I’m not sure I care,” you replied, then decided to pull out the big guns, “a poet could not but be gay/in such jocund company.”
Your fingertips brushed over her cheekbone.
“Fine, but you’re paying,” she said.
You took it as a win.
You gasped for breath, falling forward onto your elbows. The only sound was the slap of skin and your breathless moans. Casey’s hands were tight on your hips, leaving bruises on your skin. You pressed your hips back, your whines asking for more.
“You like that, sweetheart?” Casey asked, dragging her strap out of you.
“Uh huh,” was all you managed to say.
“Perfect little toy for my cock,” she said, slamming back into you.
You cried out as she hit that place inside of you that made you see heaven. Her name was nothing but a prayer on your lips.
“You were made for this, weren’t you?” she said, “God made you just for me to fuck.”
Her thrusts became rougher, harder, making you see stars. You were so close, feeling the wave about to crash into you. Your entire body was a live wire, every thrust making your head spin.
A loud banging on your door had Casey freezing.
“Ignore it. Whoever it is will go away,” you said, breathless and desperate.
She waited a moment for the knocking to stop before she slowly retracted from you before slowly pushing back in. Your whimper was pathetic, making her chuckle as she readjusted her hold on you.
The banging started on your door again.
Casey sighed, pulling full out of you. You growled, turning, the liquid heat in your veins calling out for more. The throbbing was unbearable. You’d been so close.
“Go handle that, sweetheart,” she said, running a hand through her hair, “then I’ll take care of you.”
You grumbled as you rose onto unsteady legs. Wrapping your robe around your naked body, you did your best to stride towards the door. Pulling it open, you were brought up short at the woman on the other side.
“Don’t tell me you were still in bed,” your aunt said.
“Okay. I won’t tell you,” you replied.
You glanced back over your shoulder, clutching your robe tighter around you.
“Are you going to invite me in?” she asked, her expectant look making you freeze.
“I wasn’t expecting you, Aunty Liz. I’m not exactly set up for company,” you replied.
“Or at least not company you have to be dressed for,” she said.
“What are you doing here?”
She pushed past you into your apartment. You were slow to close the door, hoping she’d leave, still feeling the slickness between your thighs begging you to go back to Casey and finish what you’d started. Her eyes slowly took in your place, lingering on the two cups of coffee on your counter.
“Am I finally going to meet your mystery woman?” she asked, turning to look at you.
“No,” you said, “did you need something or were just hoping to cock block me?”
“You’ve been dodging your mother’s calls. Call her back so she stops bugging me,” she said.
“Sorry. She just won’t shut up about redoing the living room and there’s only so long I can discuss the merits of eggshell vs seashell,” you said, running your fingers through your messy hair.
“Just call her,” she said, “I’d like not to repeat this experience.”
“That makes two of us,” you muttered.
The bedroom door was pulled open and your heart stopped in your chest. Both you and your aunt were slow to turn to the figure that had frozen in the doorway. Casey, wrapped in a sheet, cheeks still flushed and eyes wide, was staring back.
“Uh… it’s not what it looks like?” you tried when you got your voice back.
The look she gave you was withering. You shrunk under it, knowing the game was up. There was no talking your way out of this. Her jaw clenched and the tension in her body was enough to snap.
“I believe you gave me a promise,” she said, voice cold enough to give you hypothermia.
“I’m sorry,” you said, voice shrinking under her glare, “it just kind of… happened.”
“And when I asked you about it, you lied right to my face,” she said.
“What was I meant to do? You were so determined I should have nothing to do with her. An opinion I don’t understand and certainly don’t share,” you said, knowing you were sounding like the petulant teenager who had been dumped on her all those years ago.
“You don’t have to share my opinion but you gave me your word,” she said.
“Don’t blame her,” Casey said, finally stepping into the room properly, “I started this.”
“You also gave me your word,” she said, turning on her, eyes flashing dangerously.
“That’d ridiculous. You can have a say in my personal life but one of your ADAs? Seriously, Aunt Liz?” you demanded, “that’s gotta be some kind of abuse of power.”
“Don’t start,” she snapped.
“It’s fine,” Casey said to you.
“No. It’s totally an infringement on your rights. She can’t ask that of you,” you said.
“Sweetheart, she didn’t ask me as my boss,” she said.
“Fine, then I’ll be angry about it on my behalf. You can ask me but not other people,” you said, rounding on your aunt.
“Did you ever think that maybe I had good reason for telling you to stay away from her?” your aunt asked.
“So why did you?” you asked.
Her eyes flicked to Casey who was looking between the two of you like she was desperate to leave this situation. You shook your head, turning away from her.
“It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done and unfortunately for you we’re happy together. I think it’s time for you to leave,” you said, gesturing back towards the door, “I’ll talk to Mom.”
You didn’t bother looking at her as she left your apartment, the door loud in the silence left in her wake. Your stomach was unsettled, a toxic mix of anxiety and anger, and all you could do was stare at Casey. The color had drained from her face and there was nothing you could do.
“Kind of a mood killer, huh?” you said, hoping to break the tension.
“I should probably go,” she said before disappearing back into your bedroom.
“What? No.” You followed her, “you don’t have to. We don’t have to let her ruin our weekend.”
She didn’t look at you as she dragged her clothes back onto her body. A chill went over you, leaving you off balance and unsure. All you could do was watch as she put herself back together.
“I’ll call you,” she said, hand gently cupping your chin as she kissed your cheek.
The door slammed shut behind her and you fell back onto your mattress, the first tear falling. You’d known it was going to be awful when Liz found out, but you hadn’t thought Casey would be sent running. You’d stupidly assumed her feelings were strong enough to take the hit of your aunt’s disappointment.
She never called.
You kept to yourself for a few weeks, waiting, hoping she’d come back. Any time you called her it went to voicemail and she never called back. You stayed home, ordering takeout you didn’t want and left mostly uneaten. You curled up on the couch, stumbling through the days, wondering what you’d done wrong. Because you must have done something wrong for her to disappear from your life like that.
It took a lot of pride for you to drag your overwrought body over to your aunt’s. It was late enough you thought she’d be at home, but your knocks went unanswered. Sinking down onto her front steps, you lent against the ice cold metal of the handrail debating letting yourself freeze to it. It would be easier than continuing on in the hole you’d found yourself in.
“You make a sad sight.”
You blinked up at the woman towering over you. With a sigh, you hauled yourself to your feet, using the handrail to hold yourself up. Your aunt considered you for a moment before pushing past you to unlock her front door.
“You’d better come in,” she said, “can’t have you freezing to death out here.”
You trudged after her, letting yourself be enveloped in the familiar home you’d spent so many hours in. Her steady hand on your shoulder pushed you down onto her couch, disappearing out the back into where you knew the kitchen was.
A warm mug was placed in you hands, painful against your frozen fingers. You sighed, staring down into the steaming tea, the same brand she’d been stocking for you since you started sleeping over when life got too much for you.
“I sense I’m going to regret this, but do you want to talk?” she asked, lowering into the leather armchair that felt synonymous with her.
“Why didn’t you want me to pursue Casey?” you asked.
You’d been wrong. Your aunt always had a reason for asking things of you and she’d yet to be wrong. This was all your fault by not listening to her. So you had to know why she’d been so adamant this time.
“What’s happened?” she asked in return.
“I haven’t heard from her since you found out. She won’t take my calls. She won’t come see me. So I guess it’s over. I should have listened to you,” you said, staring down into your mug of tea. You took a slow sip. It was the same thing that had been going through your head for days now.
“Yes, you should have.” Your head snapped up to her.
“You knew this would happen?” you asked.
“I knew Casey Novak is a heartbreaker. She’s beautiful and smart and passionate. Makes her a damn good ADA. But the moment I saw the way she was looking at you I knew she was interested. And the way you looked at her said you were too,” she said, “you’ve never been able to lie to me.”
“So why did you tell me to stay away from her?” you asked.
“I think you forget I know you. She’s the exact kind of woman you’d destroy yourself for. I didn’t want to see you get your heart broken,” she said and you were surprised by how soft she could make her voice.
“So it wasn’t because you didn’t want me to distract your best prosecutor?” you asked.
“Distract her. Break her heart. I don’t care. It’s your heart I was trying to protect,” she replied.
“So much for that.” You slumped back, staring into your mug like it held all the answers, “I really fell for her.”
“I know you did,” she said.
“When you brought her up over lunch all those months ago…?” you asked, finally looking up at her again, realising what she’d said about lying.
“I knew you were lying to me. Foolishly, I thought it would lose its charm if I stop telling you what to do. I should have known better,” she said.
“I really thought she was falling for me too.”
And then the tears came. Your Aunt Liz had never been a cuddler, but the squeeze of her arm around you and her steady shoulder beneath your head was exactly what you needed. She let you cry until there were no more tears and then sent you upstairs to bed.
By the morning you felt a smidge better. Less pathetic at least. You stayed the weekend with her, reverting back to your teenage self, letting someone else look after you for once. And so you called out sick on Monday and followed her to work.
Her sharp look was all the opinion she was going to give you. After you’d told her your plan the night before she’d made her disapproval clear. But you needed to do it. For your own peace of mind.
Slipping into Casey’s office, you shut the door with a quiet click. Your heart squeezed as she looked up at you. The expression that went over her face would be enough to bring the tears on again if you hadn’t done your best to harden yourself to her. But there were dark circles under her eyes and it looked like she hadn’t slept since you’d last seen her.
“Hi,” you said, leaning back against her door.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“You never called.”
Green eyes darted away from you, the hands clasped on her desk tightening. You’d grown used to reading her body language and this was not a good sign.
“Look, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but if you wanted to end things I wish you’d just told me,” you said, leaving the safety of the door, “I mean, I got the message but it would have been nice if you could have just said something.”
“I’m sorry,” she said on a sigh.
You stared up at the ceiling, doing your best to keep from exploding your emotions all over her office. You heard the scrape of her chair pushing back. You focused on the light hanging above.
“Hope is a thing with feathers/that perches in the soul/and sings the tune without the words/and never stops at all,” you whispered.
A broken breath passed through parted lips. You inhaled sharply, turning your gaze back to her. Her eyes were swimming with an emotion you couldn’t name, tears welling, threatening to fall. You shook your head, looking down to your fingers, twisting together until you thought they might break under the strain.
“I really thought you liked me,” you said, “enough to handle my aunt’s disapproval. But I guess I was the idiot who fell for someone who didn’t feel the same.”
She stayed silent.
“She finally told me why she didn’t want us to get together. She knew you were going to break my heart. Next time I think about ignoring her advice I’ll come back to this moment,” you said.
She was still staring at you in silence. You shook your head looking away, disappointment welling in you again.
“That’s all I wanted you to know. I’ll leave you alone now.”
You turned to go, your sigh heavy. You should have expected this. She couldn’t even handle having a conversation to end things with you. As if she was going to say anything when you tried to have one. Still, at least you got it off your chest. That was really all you wanted to do. Your hand landed on the doorknob.
“Wait!”
You froze, not used to hearing such desperation in her voice. The ache in your chest only got worse. You didn’t turn around, but you didn’t turn the doorknob either, hung between one decision and the next.
“I’m sorry,” she said again, and you could just imagine the tear spilling down her cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut.
“I wanted to call. I did. But…” You heard her take a deep breath in, “I’m not good when it becomes real.”
“What does that mean?” You turned, surprised at the spike of anger you felt making your heart beat double time.
“It means the last time I let myself fall in love in went badly. He… It’s not important, but I haven’t been able to let myself get that vulnerable again,” she said, looking at you like that explained everything.
“So this was nothing but a bit of fun for you?” you asked, “you never cared about me?”
“No!” Her hands grasped your forearm, the first touch of bare skin you’d had from her in weeks making your head spin, “no. Maybe that’s how it started but no.”
“Then make it make sense, Casey. If it mattered to you then why did you disappear? Why did you do this?” you demanded.
“Because I cared.”
She thrust her fingers into the front of her hair, gripping at the roots. She turned away from you, the anguish clear on her face. It was like a punch to the gut, sending you reeling. Your shoulders slumped, staring at her as she paced. The impulse to reach out and comfort her was still strong. You hated yourself for it.
“Look, I could ignore the way I was falling for you when it was just us. I could lie to myself and say it was just sex. That I didn’t want more. But then Donnelly was there and you were trying to protect me and I knew. I knew I was in love with you,” she said and you felt your heart break right there in her office.
“You were a coward,” you said, and it wasn’t nice but it was true.
“I was,” she agreed, “I didn’t want to hurt you but I didn’t know how to handle it.”
“You said you’d never let me go,” you said.
“A good line I thought would make you smile,” she said, shaking her head, “I didn’t expect you to actually want it.”
“Do you still love me?” you asked.
“What?” Her brow furrowed.
“After all this, do you still love me?” you asked.
“Does it matter?” she asked in return.
“Just answer the damn question.” You hadn’t expected to get angry but she jumped as you raised your voice.
“Yes,” she said, her voice breathless.
“Good.”
Your hands landed on her hips, forcing her back against her desk. Her lips parted and a flush bloomed over her cheeks. Pushing up onto your toes, your lips ghosted over hers.
“That I did always love/I bring thee proof,” you murmured.
You kissed her then and her whimper was music to your ears. Her arms came up around you, hands pressing between your shoulder blades, keeping you pressed against her. Your tongue swept into her mouth, needing this more than you’d realised. You’d thought this was the end. Instead, warmth was blooming in your chest and you felt giddy as you kissed her deeper. You couldn’t get close enough to her.
She drew back, breath heaving, eyes still closed. You ran your fingertips along her lower lip. She pressed a kiss to them before her eyes slowly blinked open.
“I know you’re scared, and I know you think you’re not good at this, but I’m not letting you go without a fight. I love you, ADA Casey Novak,” you said.
“Just Casey,” she whispered, voice breaking, a tear slipping free.
You wiped it away, then the next and the one after that.
“I don’t deserve you,” she said.
“No, you don’t,” you said, sliding your fingers into her hair, “but lucky for you I’m pigheaded and I’m used to getting what I want. Sound familiar?”
Her chuckle was wet but she pinched your side until you laughed too. She lent forward, forehead pressing to yours. Your hands slid around to interlock at the small of her back.
“So will you pick up when I call you tonight?” you asked.
“I’ll do you one better.” She cupped both your cheeks, tipping your face up towards her, “I’ll give you my spare key and you can be waiting for me when I get home.”
You kissed her again, not able to help yourself. Possibilities tasted so much better when they were coming true.
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tales from the Flat Earth by Tanith Lee
A few thoughts on the supposed similarities with The Sandman—with actual comparisons (and a summary of the most important beats for those who want it)…
[This post is super long. It contains a lot of different thoughts, that’s why I broke it down into three parts: 1. General Considerations, 2. Boroson’s Claims and 3. A beat-by-beat summary of all five volumes of Tales from the Flat Earth. You might want to read this in instalments, or you might want to leave part three if you are still planning to read any of the five volumes.]
Part One: General Considerations
By now, many of you will have heard of Tanith Lee’s series “Tales from the Flat Earth”—not because the world all of a sudden woke up to a literary genius, but because of a Facebook post by Matthew Boroson in the immediate aftermath of the sexual assault allegations against Neil Gaiman. Boroson now made a further statement that he will “delete […] challenges so he can live”. I completely get the exhaustion of a post going viral—been there, got the T-Shirt—but why not just ignore it? Switch off notifications or comments altogether? Actively censoring only the people with different opinions, whom he even admits have mostly been engaging in good faith, because “he can’t do this 24/7”, while leaving up those in agreement (apparently he can do that 24/7)? He might not have thought through how bad this looks, and the irony of a man silencing dissenting voices and trying to control the conversation really shouldn’t be lost on people. But apparently, it is.
Anyway: I have absolutely no desire to defend Neil Gaiman. As should be clear from my blog, I stand with Gaiman’s victims and have done so since last summer when the allegations first broke. I believe those women, for both personal and professional reasons I won’t go into here. And I believe them, whether some author guy tells me I should or not. What grates on me is that this overshadows what’s actually important here, and I’ll get to why in a second.
I love Tanith Lee’s Tales from the Flat Earth and have read them first in the 1990s, and quite a few times since. For that very reason, I wish people would just read her work without trying to engage in a “gotcha” that is still all about Gaiman and not her. She was a great and talented writer who deserves more than now forever being known as “the woman whom Neil Gaiman plagiarised”. And to say it quite frankly: The sexual assault allegations can stand on their own and don’t need a male writer telling us, verbatim, “I have no difficulty believing the accusations against him. Because I know — KNOW — that he has felt entitled to take what he wants from a woman, without her permission, and without any acknowledgement of her contributions.”
I can’t even begin to say how problematic this statement is, for so many reasons. So all I’ll say is:
There is a certain tone-deafness in thinking a sexual assault claim holds even more weight because a male writer says, “See, he did this, so you should also believe that.” We should believe SA victims. Full stop. We don’t need wonky plagiarism or “inspiration without credit”-claims to give them more weight. These two things shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence.
But all of that aside: Read Tanith Lee’s “Tales from the Flat Earth” because you are interested in a writer who crafted imaginative worlds in a florid prose-style that hearkens back to old fairy tales and Arabian Nights. If you only want to read it for a “gotcha”, I might be able to spare you the arduous work, although I strongly recommend you read it to come to your own conclusions (go to the source yourself. And I honestly wish more people did before they just blindly believe things). Again, spare a thought though if Tanith deserves to be “the woman NG plagiarised” to a new audience, because let’s be honest—that’s the only reason why so many people now read her works.
And that’s exactly why I thought so long and hard whether to even write this post, but there comes a point when people who actually know both works in depth need to speak up about the informational conformity bias that now has us at over 30,000 notes on Tumblr alone, all the while the person who put this into the world seems to actively censor anyone who dares to disagree. I get that Boroson’s claim is what a lot of people want to believe right now, but that doesn’t make it more true. Someone even said that “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because only the result does.” That’s an incredibly dumb and also dangerous statement, but I’ll leave it at that.
Horrible people can create good art. We don’t need to pretend they were always hacks. We have to learn to sit with that cognitive dissonance and can disassociate ourselves from the creator regardless—because he’s an abuser.
Part Two: Boroson’s Claims
With all of that out of the road, let’s have a closer look at all that Boroson alleges in his FB post; quotes are verbatim.
1. “Despite the fact that the main character — a byronic, pale, otherworldly, deity-like character - is the prince of night and dreams.”
Here, we already have the first bit of wrong information. Azhrarn is one of the Lords of Darkness. He is the Prince of Demons. He is evil-aligned. He is not a “prince of dreams”. He is “Night’s Master” because he only walks the earth at night, and sunlight is lethal (oh?) for him. He is really nothing like Dream. One is all about rules and responsibilities, the other is about inconsistency, wickedness, mischief, changing his mind on a whim and treating humans as playthings (which he repeatedly admits himself). You could build a much stronger case for similarities between Azhrarn and Lucifer/Iblis (and Loki if you wanted to go Norse) than Dream, because Azhrarn actually hates the gods, and Lee’s whole series builds very strongly on how he (and then someone else) tries to bring them down. And Azhrarn might be older than gods, but whether he is truly more powerful depends on how you look at it—he even asks them for help at some point. Dream, on the other hand, is more than the gods. They begin in his realm, and they end there when people stop believing. Because gods come from the collective unconscious—and that’s who and what Dream is.
2. “Despite the fact that every time people see art depicting Tanith Lee's main character Azhrarn, they think it's Morpheus from the Sandman.”
This is interesting since the depiction Boroson chose for his FB claim is fanart. If you claim something like this, at least use original artwork, not works that have already gone through 20 subconscious filters. If you look at original art, you get this:
Azhrarn in the middle, Uhlume (Lord Death) to the right, Chuz (Lord Madness) to the left. And in the other picture, Azrharn in his eagle form. Which is just weird, soz. But that’s why he has feathers on his garb.
Maybe there’s a fleeting similarity in the one to the left, but there’s also literally none in the one to the right. And if you have ever read any dark fantasy of the 1980s and 90s (and even earlier), pretty much the majority of male protagonists fitted the stereotype of “pale, clad in black and byronic”. It was a dark fantasy trope—goths read that stuff in droves (I was one of them). And it became even more likely if the hero/antihero/villain was somehow aligned with the underworld. Which Azhrarn is.
And since artists are always influenced by other artworks and their own mental image of a character, have an actual description of Azhrarn’s looks from “Night’s Master”:
“marvelously handsome, with hair that shone like blue-black fire, and clothed in all the magnificence of night.”
But we also get this when he makes a not so great experience:
“He gazed to east and west, to north and south, and the face of Azhrarn, it is truly said, had become white. Long he looked, and long his pallor increased. A mortal man could not grow so pale and live.”
So we can reasonably deduce that he isn’t usually as white as Morpheus in his main form (I don’t know what else to call it)?
There are many other descriptions of a similar ilk. Is this really enough to say they look the same? Really? Instead of admitting that we might be filling in some blanks here if descriptions are so vague?
3. “Despite the fact that the dream lord's younger sibling is Death.”
That one truly made me laugh out loud. Apart from the fact that Gaiman’s Death is older and female (which one could say was a purposeful switch to “hide the tracks” 🙄)—only the least read people would assume this was in any way new or sensational and “borrowed” from any one particular writer. Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death) are twin brothers in Greek mythology. And the closeness of Death and Dream in The Sandman (both conceptually and on a relational level) is much more of a mirror of that than the relationship between Azhrarn and Uhlume in Tales from the Flat Earth, because in all honesty: The latter two don’t get on that well, which Boroson conveniently forgets to mention. Their relationships are really nothing alike.
Hypnos is also a deity residing in the underworld, and you have to cross the river Lethe (forgetfulness/oblivion) to get to him. Lee borrows from that idea very heavily when she tells the story of Kazir visiting Azhrarn in Underearth. These are myths, told and retold by hundreds of writers over and over again, including Lee herself.
I don’t even know what to say about this one. It’s so thin that it immediately blows away if you as much as cough at it.
4. “Despite the fact that other members of his family include Delusion, Delirium.... They are not gods but beings older than gods, and when the gods die, Dream, Death, Delusion, and Delirium will remain. This family of immortal, eternal, unchanging beings, who each embody an eternal abstraction starting with the letter D.”
There are only two Lords of Darkness beginning with a D, and they are called Uhlume (Death) and Chuz (Delusion). Azhrarn is Wickedness.
There is no Dream, as I already stated. And guess what? There is also no separate Delirium. So wrong facts again. The character is Delirium’s Mistress (or at least that’s the title of the volume), and in that case, we are referring to her as being the lover of Chuz (so Delusion and Delirium are effectively the same person). And her name is Azhriaz; she is half human, half demon (and something else, but that would be too spoilery) and Azhrarn’s daughter. She looks like this in original artwork (sorry for the crappola photo):
Without wanting to give too much plot away because some of you might still want to read this: There are three Lords of Darkness (or one could argue five—more about that later) in Lee’s Tales, but they don’t all begin with a D—neither if you look at their names (their initials are A, U, C, K and A), nor at their functions (in which case it’s W, D, D, F and L).
Okay, the domains of two Lords of Darkness start with D. Is it really enough to be sure Gaiman borrowed from it, turning it into seven? Or is it perhaps far more likely that this still falls into the realm of literary archetypes? And even if Gaiman did expand on that idea—that’s not plagiarism (which, to say it very clearly, Boroson didn’t explicitly say it was. He just implied it a bit between the lines, and other people who probably didn’t read either ran with it). I don’t think it would even constitute “heavy borrowing”, especially since the characters, their relationships and the stories as such are so, so different.
Why is Boroson’s account riddled with inaccuracies? Why be so wrong in your descriptions of a work you supposedly know so well? I really don’t know. It’s either that he doesn’t know it as well as he says he does (which I can’t imagine, since he’s apparently been going on about this for years), or he purposefully misrepresents it to add more weight to it. Which looks bad to be honest. Or at least as if he’s a bit too taken with an idea and at the stage where he can’t let it go anymore.
5. “[…] description of a character who was clearly the inspiration for Gaiman’s Mazikeen.”
That’s also Chuz. As depicted in the art above, and also here:
One side of him is young and beautiful, the other old. I’ll let you decide if this is clearly the inspiration for Mazikeen:
“So she beheld the entire aspect of his face, one half youthfully bronzed, one half haggardly gray, the rusty hair and the blond, but it seemed to her it was the most natural face she had ever looked on.”
And to say it quite frankly: Framing it like that is a bit dishonest to start with? It’s not the description of “a character”. It’s the volume’s protagonist. Whom Boroson earlier insisted was the inspiration for Delirium (also a bit wonky that one, as I already wrote, since I bet most of the people who don’t know Lee’s work pictured her Delirium as a woman after reading Boroson’s account). But now it’s Mazikeen all of a sudden? Leaving out he’s actually talking about the same character here looks like wilfully obfuscating that neither of it truly holds water, so he’s picking little bits and offers them without context.
Mazikeen is a visual creation of Kelley Jones btw, so maybe Boroson should also take it up with him? The same could be said to everyone who might feel tempted to shoehorn a certain other character (DC’s Destiny) into this, woefully forgetting that Destiny is not a character created by Gaiman. He has existed in the DC Universe years before Lee wrote Tales from the Flat Earth. I don’t hear anyone complaining that Lee stole Kheshmet/Fate from DC because it would be quite frankly idiotic—these are literary archetypes!
6. “The prose, the characters, the narrative strategies, the mythology, the story structure, all of it: Gaiman found it all in Tanith Lee's writing and never gave her any credit.”
The prose is really hard to compare because one is a novel, the other a comic. I really recommend you read both yourself so you get the full picture, but just two examples here:
Tanith Lee:
“A mile from the enameled walls of the city, where the desert lay gleaming like golden glass, a beautiful woman sat in a stone tower, and she played with a bone.
“Will he come to me today?” she asked the bone, rocking it in her arms like a child. “Or will he seek me tonight? All the stars will shine, but he will shine more brightly. For sure, he dare not come by day, for he would outshine the sun. The sun would die of shame, and the whole world grow dark. But oh, he will come. Nemdur,” said the beautiful woman, “Nemdur, my lord.”
Her name was Jasrin; Nemdur was the king whose city stood one mile to the east. Once, he had been her husband.
No longer.”
Neil Gaiman:
As someone who’s read both many times over, my personal assessment is:
They are not very alike. Lee writes floridly, Gaiman is often fairly to the point. Even in Ramadan, which is one (out of 75!) issues that closest resembles the style of Arabian Nights (which is Lee’s inspiration), his voice seems distinct to me—as is hers. Lee’s prose always struck me as great, Gaiman’s as good (I always loved his world building more than his actual writing style). I think Lee’s prose is more accomplished, but that’s personal taste.
Characters: I already expanded on it.
Narrative strategy: This is so vague. Does he mean perspective? Point of view? Other narrative strategies like foreshadowing?
Since I don’t know what exactly Boroson is referring to because he likes to keep it nebulous, I really can’t say, but I don’t think the way the stories are told are in any way alike. And where they seem similar (“Night’s Master”, as an example, is told as interconnected stories in the style of Arabian Nights with a throughline. And of course the Sandman also contains some interconnected stories with a throughline, although they are in no way reminiscent of Arabian Nights to me, bar Ramadan), I seriously have to ask again:
Do we believe only one writer utilises these strategies and/or has a monopoly on them? Because there are truly only so many of them to go around. And we could say that Lee’s “narrative strategy” is hardly unique either. This is just a bit silly.
Mythology: Just no. Both Lee and Gaiman use themes that have been there a million times before them, I already brushed on it. Both lean heavily into existing mythologies, with Gaiman more into Greek, and Lee into Near- and Middle Eastern one (especially Mesopotamian/Babylonian—there are some parallels between her characters and deities like Nergal, Sin/Nanna and Ninazu), although they both also use others. But the bottom line is: Both have expanded on long existing mythologies.
Story structure: Again, what is Boroson insinuating here? He is truly the master of vagueness.
To say it very directly: The story structure is not the same. If you look at The Sandman in its entirety, it’s a clear three act tragedy with a lot of Hero’s Journey thrown-in. The fact that it’s told in 10 arcs changes nothing about that—you can clearly make out Campbell’s stages, like Call to Adventure, Crossing the First Threshold, Belly of the Whale… you name it. This is long enough already, but look at Campbell’s Hero’s Journey, and it’s fairly obvious (and no, the hero doesn’t always have to survive).
Tales from the Flat Earth have a throughline in their five volumes, but they are connected more loosely, with the odd referential throwback. Only “Delusion’s Master” and “Delirium’s Mistress” have an ongoing narrative (of sorts). “Night’s Sorceries” always seemed like an afterthought of material Lee would have liked in volume four but couldn’t fit in. They are all told in a way that hearkens back to oral storytelling (hence Lee saying she was inspired by 1001 Nights), and there is a clear sense of an unchanging, but not personally involved storyteller/narrator all the way through who sometimes even offers commentary.
7. “Tanith Lee was far more progressive about Igbtq+ identities, and that was twenty years earlier.”
Well, for starters: Ten years earlier (“Night’s Master” was published in 1978, the first issue of The Sandman in 1988).
Is Tales from the Flat Earth truly more progressive? I’m not sure. Both were progressive for their time, simply because they wrote about LGBTQ+ characters at all and gave them a voice. And to put it in a disclaimer: I don’t apply moral purity standards to fiction, neither do I believe certain things that would be problematic in real life can’t be written about in fiction (and dare I say: I find that take worrying, for many reasons, but that’s a different discussion). But if we’re talking about “progressiveness”:
A clearly bisexual Demon Prince grooms a child to then seduce him on his 16th birthday—in a time when gay men were often still thrown into one pot with groomers and even pedophiles?
A lesbian queen who basically gets cursed to have sex with many, many men because only a pregnancy can lift that curse (!), finds out she is barren and can only conceive if she has sex with a dead guy, makes a deal with Uhlume who then brings a man back from the dead so she can be impregnated and then, via many many twists and turns, turns into [I’ll tell you later if you really want to know]?
I don’t know, but it’d probably be the same people who find certain angles of the Sandman problematic who would also bolt or get outraged at this? And they would 100% engage in the same type of revisionist readings they now apply to Gaiman’s works if they ever found out that Lee did anything wrong. There is a lot, and I mean a lot, of rape, SA and questionable power dynamics in Lee’s work. But it’s also a work of fiction.
8. In the 1990s, toward the end of her life, she complained in an interview that magazines weren't buying her stories anymore.
[edit: Lee died in 2015, so Boroson’s claim the 90s were “towards the end of her life” also reads a bit weird to me—as if he’s consciously trying to appeal to the sympathy of his readers by portraying her as “the poor woman on her death bed”, when she still lived for another 20 years]
That’s a bit nebulous again. It’s amazing how some people never quote their sources. I am near certain that Boroson talks about this interview from 1998, but I stand corrected if it’s a different one:
Tanith talks about her troubles getting published, but she also says it’s a hard time for everyone right now. Plus, her bibliography also clearly indicates she still got published on the regular, and that the amount of works published in any given year didn’t really fluctuate all that much apart from a burst in the ‘70s (and “burst” refers to the difference of publishing four books instead of two per year), a dip towards the end of her life (when her output was probably affected by her illness) and then the sad thing that always happens when someone dies: Suddenly, there’s another uptick.
Someone even went through the trouble of visualising her published works in a graph:
Courtesy of Das_Mime
Does this honestly look like no one published her anymore?
Now, don’t get me wrong: Of course it is a nice gesture if those more successful put in a word for those who find themselves in a bit of dry spot. But to turn this almost into some conspiracy theory is just a bit weird if I’m honest. It’s much more likely that people are simply not on someone’s radar than that they are actively trying to hinder their career. Writing is hard. Getting published is hard, even if you already have a few published works under your belt. Ask me how I know…
These were the points Boroson made that I wanted to address directly. For those of you who want to get a feel if the story as such is actually in any way similar enough to even call it heavy borrowing, I’ll now do a summary of all major story beats for all five volumes.
Part Three: Tales from the Flat Earth Beat-by-Beat
I assume that most of my followers are familiar with The Sandman, but only a few with Tanith Lee. Hence I won’t do a summary of The Sandman, and once again: You really have to read both works yourself to understand why Boroson’s claims are so far out there. I’m more than willing to discuss and answer questions that come in good faith, but I’ll say it outright: I am not interested in engaging with anyone who just comes here to peddle conspiracy theories and platitudes like “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because…” if they haven’t even read the works in question.
Just as a quick hint, because that’s where you’ll find the superficial similarities (and that’s my phrasing it with the utmost goodwill):
If you want to compare the entirety of both works, there’s no way around reading both.
For “Night’s Master”, I’d argue you also need to read the entirety of The Sandman, because in a nutshell, it is, at least at first glance, about the heel-face-turn of its protagonist. You’ll need at least Preludes and Nocturnes and The Kindly Ones, but it makes no sense to read them separately, so…
For “Death’s Master”, maybe read The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because it is partly about a queen who wants to save her land (everything else would be too spoilery, but just so much: The similarities are fleeting at best, and that’s already generous).
For “Delusion’s Master”: Again The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because at its very core we have a love story that gets torpedoed by a traitor. But other than that, said love story is truly nothing alike.
For “Delirium’s Mistress”: Honestly, I thought long and hard about this. I really don’t know because it is so different from the Sandman that I see absolutely no parallels at all. Maybe read Brief Lives, because there is something in there about parent/child relationships. But they are hardly unique in literature, so once again: I truly don’t know how anyone could find similarities here. And The Kindly Ones would be such an immense stretch that I won’t even go there.
For “Night’s Sorceries”: There are three stories that give a bit of context to the rest. If anything, I’d say read The Wake. But that would actually be insinuating Azhriaz is Daniel, and I’m like… no, massive stretch. If it’s just about loosely connected stories that somewhat fit into a greater narrative, read “World’s End”. But if we’re thinking that’s already a similarity, I truly cry for literary analysis…
Briefly about the world we’re in: The Flat Earth basically consists of four planes: Upperearth, home of the gods; Earth (the Earth of humans before it changed shape); Underearth, home of Azhrarn, Prince of Demons and Wickedness; Innerearth, home of Uhlume, Lord Death. Azhrarn’s kingdom, Druhim Vanashta, houses three classes of demons: Vazdru (most like Azhrarn himself, beautiful and prone to change into eagles and other animals), Eshva (basically mute servants to the Vazdru who can change gender at will) and Drin (ugly, exclusively male creatures and accomplished creators of beautiful and practical things). All three demon kind frequently visit earth to tempt and create chaos.
Volume One: Night’s Master
Night’s Master begins with Azhrarn finding a dying woman and her newborn son, Sivesh, on a hillside. After her death, Azhrarn becomes captivated by the beauty of the child and takes him back to Underearth to raise him (and then promptly seduces him on his 16th birthday). Azhrarn then creates a woman called Ferazhin from a flower for Sivesh (because, you know, Azhrarn thinks it’s good sport to sample a woman. As one does). However, nothing can prevent Sivesh from longing to live on earth because he is human, and the decision to leave Azhrarn for a life in the light offends the Demon Prince. So he consciously tricks him into death by drowning (by chapter three).
The next storyline shifts to a collar (crafted by a Drin) from Ferazhin’s tears because she is inconsolable. We follow the collar around on its journey to different owners (who all meet a gruesome end in one way or another). The final owner, the blind bard Kazir, is the only one not to get corrupted by it, and we conclude the first book with his journey to Underearth to give the collar back to Azhrarn in exchange for Ferazhin, whom he loves without ever having met her. Azhrarn agrees to let Ferazhin go if Kazir can answer a particular question, which he can (not going to get too deep into that, apart from: Azhrarn is rattled, and we’ll revisit it at the end of this volume). Kazir and Ferazhin are happy for a while, but as usual, Azhrarn changes his mind, and by the end of it, Ferazhin is dead (a bit of a nod to Romeo and Juliet in there, but that just as an aside). But lo and behold, Kazir manages to bring her back after a while, and “somewhere perhaps, some dark door slammed like thunder in a city underground.”
Book Two of Night’s Master focuses on Zorayas, who survived the overthrow of her father (a king) as a newborn but suffered severe disfigurement. After the death of the monk who took care of her, she seeks revenge for being raped by a Prince and takes back her father’s kingdom with the help of the Drin. And, as usual, she meets her demise through trickery orchestrated by Azhrarn.
Book Three. Azhrarn’s cruel prank on a young married couple goes wrong, escalates and ultimately leads to humanity teetering on the brink of destruction (the remnants of the husband turn into Hatred and wipe out everything). After seeking intervention from the gods of Upperearth in vain, Azhrarn makes, for once, a sacrifice to preserve humanity’s existence. But does he do so completely selflessly? Could be argued, and I guess Kazir knew, but that’d be too much of a spoiler… Suffice it to say, Earth enters an age of innocence without the presence of hatred and wickedness. Until… 🤣
Volume Two: Death’s Master
Narasen, Queen of Merh, is sexually assaulted by the magician Issak. Feigning cooperation, she manages to kill him. Before he dies, he curses Narasen and Merh, declaring that both will become barren. The curse can only be lifted if Narasen (we have deduced at this point that she is a lesbian because she “doesn’t lie with men”) gives birth to a child, but includes a stipulation that prevents this solution: “Your reluctant womb will never quicken from the seed of living man.” After numerous attempts to conceive, Narasen, driven by her desire to save her land and people, makes a deal with Uhlume to conceive a child from a dead man. In return, Narasen agrees to spend a thousand years in Uhlume’s kingdom. Narasen is poisoned shortly after childbirth.
After Narasen is locked in her tomb with her newborn child Simmu, Uhlume arrives to claim her, leaving the child behind. However, Simmu is rescued by two passing Eshva and lives with them by night. Simmu develops Eshva abilities, like changing gender at will. Eventually, the Eshva grow tired of Simmu and leave him at a temple near Merh, where he grows up among monks and becomes friends and later lovers with a boy called Zhirem.
Simmu and Zhirem eventually become separated and somewhat turn into the tools of Azhrarn (Simmu hates Death because he remembers him coming for his mother) and Uhlume, respectively.
Meanwhile, Uhlume and Narasen don’t get on too well—Narasen sets herself up as Lady Death and constantly struggles for power. To get her off his back, Uhlume grants her permission to spend a day in Merh, where she promptly destroys her city (yeah, after all that trouble…). Upon her return, she gradually takes over the supervision of Innerearth from Uhlume and turns into “Lady Death.”
Azhrarn saves Simmu during Narasen’s attack on Merh. He instructs Simmu to obtain water from the Cistern of Life (a little throwback to volume one). His plan is to kill Uhlume, hence bringing death to an end. The well is guarded by nine virgins called the Golden Daughters—Simmu makes use of his gender-changing abilities and sneaks into each of their chambers as a woman and then takes their virginity as a man. With their virginity taken, the well cracks, and Simmu founds the City of Simmurad (populated by immortal humans) with the golden daughter Kassafeh (too long-winded to get into it all).
Zhirem has embarked on his own adventures and eventually returns to Earth as the magician Zhirek. He agrees to serve Uhlume, who plans to destroy Simmurad, perceiving it as a threat. With the guidance of Azhrarn, who has grown weary of Simmu and Simmurad (you see, Azhrarn is not very consistent and doesn’t abide by rules nor responsibilities like our boy Morpheus 😉), Uhlume lets Zhirek destroy the city by submerging it under water after re-introducing death via creating and killing an insect. Simmu seemingly dies at the hands of Zhirek, who casts him into a well of fire. Zhirek retires into solitude, and Simmu is ultimately saved by Azhrarn, who transforms him into an Eshva and erases all memories of his past.
The story concludes with Narasen effectively ruling Innerearth and giving death, while Uhlume spends most of his time on Earth, finding solace in the presence of Kassafeh.
Volume Three: Delusion’s Master
We’re starting with a tale about Jasrin, the young wife of King Nemdur of Sheve. Because she is jealous of her newborn child, she abandons him in the desert, where he gets killed by dogs. Nemdur banishes Jasrin to a tower, where her sanity gradually deteriorates. She is visited by Chuz, the Prince of Madness (the third Lord of Darkness). Inquiring about her deepest desires, Jasrin expresses her wish for her husband to share her madness. Nemdur awakens with a crazy plan to construct a towering structure that reaches Upperearth (where the gods live). Inspired by the legend of Simmu, he envisions attaining immortality. The Tower of Babyhelu, aptly named “The Gate to the Gods,” grows and grows until it becomes unstable due to its immense weight, causing it to collapse with catastrophic consequences: The fall of the entire kingdom of Sheve.
Azhrarn and a few of his demons are drawn to the commotion, and a conversation between him and Chuz reignites Azhrarn’s disdain for the gods, who had failed to assist him in “Night’s Master”.
Hundreds of years later, we meet 7,000 pilgrims on their journey across the desert to worship the gods at Bhelsheved (Sheve rebuilt). Azhrarn is incensed that his sacrifice to save humanity in “Night’s Master” is credited to the gods. Disguised as a prophet, he reveals that a Lord of Darkness (not the gods) is the true saviour of humanity. For this, he is lashed with a whip and sheds three drops of blood. Azhrarn continues with his quest to destroy Bhelsheved but is unexpectedly diverted by the beauty of a young priestess named Dunizel. Recognising Azhrarn’s true intentions, Dunizel bravely offers to sacrifice herself to appease his wrath. Azhrarn turns into a wolf and bites off her lower arm, but when she encourages him to bite again instead of showing terror, he hesitates. Reminiscing about his own sacrifice to Hatred, he changes his mind, heals her with his own blood, and falls deeply in love with her.
We then learn the story of Dunizel’s mentally disabled mother, who was held captive by the assistant of an astronomer (who was on a field trip to observe a comet passing by). After impregnating the girl, the assistant attempted to abort the child by exposing her to the comet’s energy as it passed. The girl was instead exposed to a rainbow of light captured by the astronomer’s magical engine, regained her sanity and gave birth to Dunizel, who was also affected by the comet’s light. Dunizel’s mother raised her but gradually transformed into a fire elemental and ascended into the sky. The assistant gave Dunizel to a grieving mother from a nearby village, who raised her until she was chosen to join the religious cult (like her mother, she is also part solar being).
We are panning back to the love story of Dunizel and Azhrarn. Dunizel gives birth to a daughter named Soveh, who is initially mistaken for a goddess on Earth and grows at unnatural speed. Through the workings of Chuz though, the truth about the child’s paternity is revealed, and Dunizel dies at the hands of an angry mob (she also comes into contact with one of the drops of blood Azhrarn had formerly shed in the desert). Devastated, Azhrarn takes Soveh, whom he renames Azhriaz, to Underearth. Before he departs, he addresses Chuz and declares their relationship as “un-brothers, un-cousins, and now, un-friends”. He also reveals he will go to war with him and considers it a kindness he has informed him in advance.
The story concludes with Chuz finding Jasrin, who is haunting her tower, and releasing her.
Volume Four: Delirium’s Mistress
So if you waited for this to start with all-out war between Azhrarn and Chuz, you’ll be disappointed. We meet Oloru, a court jester to tyrannical prince Lak Hezoor. Oloru convinces Lak Hezoor to take him on a sightseeing tour of Underearth. It’s not going well—Lak Hezoor is torn apart by Azhrarn’s red hounds. Oloru transforms into a “slender rod of yellow radiation, vaguely purplishly limned” and flies towards the island where young adult Azhriaz has been sleeping since her arrival in Underearth (it’s a been a few years). Oloru, who is actually Chuz in disguise, awakens her, convinces her to escape, and takes her back to Earth. And of course they become lovers.
Kheshmet (King Fate) enters the story, just like that, and in no time, Azhrarn arrives and ends his quarrel with Chuz— also just like that. But to atone, Chuz has to agree to live a mortal lifetime, disfigured, without his powers and truly mad. Azhriaz initially stays with Chuz, but he forgets who she is.
Azhriaz, now without Chuz, despairs. She visits her mother’s grave with Khesmet and decides to embrace her father’s legacy: discrediting the gods. She replaces a king who committed suicide and ascends to the status of a cruel goddess on Earth, conquering much of the world who revels in her cruelty. Her teachings to humanity are that the gods care nothing for them: “Remember, to the gods, you are nothing. To Azhriaz, the Goddess, you are only grains of dust or sand.”
Khesmet arrives to foretell a looming war with sea and sky.
And weirdly, that war starts because a god, whom Azhrarn kissed in “Night’s Master”, awakens and decides that was sacrilege, plus he’s also not pleased with Azhriaz’s activities on Earth. The gods consequently hurl three shards into the sun that transform into three angels—the Malhukim of the gods: Ebriel, Yabael and Melquar. Azhrarn holds the angels at bay while Azhriaz escapes into the ocean aboard a special fish-ship crafted by the Drin, pursued by Ebriel and Yabael. Azhrarn fights Melquar in the air and narrowly avoids incineration. Azhriaz escapes imprisonment in an underwater city when Yabael destroys it with his sword. She receives no assistance from Azhrarn because he lies in a death-like coma in Druhim Vanashta and has been usurped by the demon Hazrond. Eventually, Azhrarn recovers and reclaims his kingdom. Azhriaz is still pursued by Yabael, who conveniently undergoes a transformation and forgets his mission in the process. Then pursued by Ebriel, she travels with Dathanja (Zhirek making a reappearance) and ultimately engages in an eternal battle with the angel. Realising she’ll be otherwise stuck there forever, she convinces Ebriel to stop by revealing her plan to give up her immortality.
Ebriel departs, snd Azhriaz (who is actually called Atmeh at this point, but that’d lead too far) seeks out Kassafeh for a bargain with Uhlume (who is in the process of abdicating to Narasen) to become mortal. She reunites with Chuz, who has paid his penance, and they stay together for a while until Chuz helps her with her final transformation into a mortal woman.
Atmeh/Azhriaz approaches death after 200 years or so, and is visited by Azhrarn, who tells her, “Humanity is my plaything no longer, only a toy for those that are mine under the earth. But you, you are her child. You are hers. You are Dunizel. Not mine. Never mine. Though I made you to be my curse upon the world. Though I made you to be myself. You are Dunizel, that I loved, Dunizel who was the moon and sun together.” Azhrarn expresses his sadness over his inability to cry, and Azhriaz responds: “Each word you have spoken has been a tear.”
Volume Five: Night’s Sorceries
I wasn’t sure if I should even go into this one, because “Delirium’s Mistress” always seemed like the final volume to me to be honest, and it concluded the story for me. “Night’s Sorceries” is a collection of short stories that seem connected to “Delirium’s Mistress” and fill in some gaps (that’s why each of them has an introduction that explains where we are, and when). So I will only go into three of them (there are seven altogether):
“The Prodigal” is essentially about Narasen’s reign as Queen Death.
“Dooniveh, The Moon” is written like a fairy tale about a monk from Nannafir. He travels to the moon on a winged horse, and by the end of his adventures, we witness the wedding of the Moon Queen and the Sun King. And that’s connected how? Well, the winged horse was a gift from Hazrond (who usurped Azhrarn) to Azhriaz.
“The Daughter of the Magician,” recounts the tale of a magician who successfully resurrects the soul of Azhriaz. But the child, named Ezail, ends up being offered as a sacrifice to a monster. And that’s connected how? Well, the monster was created as the counterpart of the winged horse in “Dooniveh, The Moon.” But Ezail regains Azhriaz’ memory and lo and behold, Chuz just happens to appear in the reincarnation of a young boy named Chavir. Together, they decide to take the monster with them and embark on a life together.
The main reason I did include this volume is that it somewhat puts the former four in context. The last sentence of “Night’s Sorceries” is:
“Love is also an immortal.”
Which somewhat suggests that Azhriaz is operating on the same plane as Azhrarn, Uhlume, Chuz and Kheshmet. And we already get hints at that in the other volumes.
In “Delusion’s Master”, Azhrarn says to Dunizel that their child will be his feminine aspect. It’s just ambiguous enough, but we also get this in “Delirium’s Mistress” when Azhrarn wonders about love: “There is no such commodity. There is carnality, our plaything. There is worship, and there is obsession. Death you may perceive walking the world, and Fate, and Delusion, too, in a form that I have kindly granted him. But no man sees love, and no demon sees it.”
So while many of the stories of Tales from the Flat Earth can stand on their own, there is also an overarching theme: Establishing another power that serves to balance out the others: Wickedness, Death, Delusion, and Fate—Azhriaz’ four “sons” (cryptically mentioned in the final chapter of Delirium’s Mistress)...
#the sandman#sandman#tales from the flat earth#tanith lee#neil gaiman#long post#an in-depth look at#Matthew Boroson’s claims#and a full summary of all five volumes of tales from the flat earth#sandman spoilers#tales from the flat earth spoilers
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
fresh meat - the shield (18+)
⛧ pair: the shield (jon moxley/dean ambrose, seth rollins, and roman reigns) x reader [i know he goes by mox now but i’m calling him dean for this one]
⛧ tags: @88changemymind @reigns-prophecy @cyberdejos2 (please let me know anytime if you'd like to be tagged in recent or future works.
⛧ warnings: primal play, kidnapping cre@mp1es, unprotected p in v, @nal (you're welcome), oral (m! and f! receiving), foursome (f/m/m/m), exhibitionism, lots of positions, degrading (my specialty), edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial, tr1ple p3netration [future warnings may be updated in this ff] as always minors should not interact ♡
⛧ sorry I haven't been active - I been busy with college and a recent trip to Germany: I always had a little fantasy of these 3 being dominant in a "certain" kind of way. Also I will go ahead and apologize if this isn't my best work - I've never had any bad writer's block like this and this the first time I've written a foursome so my apologies if it's a bit hard to understand.
⛧ the shield took out lots of the lockerroom; you however were in front of their next target. They surrounded you and were thinking of what to do you as punishment for getting in their way.
⛧ word count: 3.8K
How did you get here? How did you find yourself like this? The Shield were already pissed off about whatever the chairman told them but why you? Why were you surrounded by those three?
You quivered in fear as The Shield stared at you. Ambrose smirking, Rollins checking you up and down, and Reigns looking deep into your eyes.
"What do you think, boys?" Dean asks his fellow brothers. "What should we do with her?"
“I don’t know, Dean.” Roman replied, annoyance in his tone. “I’m getting irritated from her looking at us.”
You shivered from Roman’s words. You never thought you’d see yourself in this position - three hungry wolves lurking around you like they found their next meal. You sweated, praying that they won’t hurt you. But why you out of all people?
.•°☆.⋆。⋆☆•˚。⋆。˚•☆˚。⋆.☆•°.⋆
An hour earlier…
The Shield was pissed at Triple H for screwing them over for a tag team championship rematch. They’ve been begging to get this opportunity since their reunion.
They’ve already put many superstars through the announce tables and anything else they could attack other male superstars with.
You, a female superstar, were minding your business, getting ready to support your best friend, Naomi since she had a match for the women’s championship. While getting ready to meet her, you noticed a good friend of yours, Drew McIntyre, being part of the Shields main targets. Of course you couldn’t stand there and not protect your friend.
You noticed Seth about to make a sneak attack on Drew and you immediately blocked him from landing a hit on Drew. Seth was stunned seeing you try to stop what The Shield was all about - justice. And they sure had a way of making it known. You froze, asking yourself, "What were you thinking? You stopped a member of The Shield?! That's asking for a funeral." But you didn't want to show you were afraid, your face remained as emotionless as you could.
Drew didn’t say anything and left, a little amused from your small act of protecting your friend. In that space was just you and Seth. Seth began to smile and laugh at you, not believing you would stop any member of this faction.
“Sweetheart, there’s absolutely no way you’re trying to stop me. Either you be a good girl and move out of my way or you’re going to regret it.” He threatened, looking at your face. You felt offended from what he called you and didn’t move a muscle. It was stupid to do what you were doing, but your body was telling you to stay still.
When Seth saw you wouldn’t budge, he sighed and chuckled. You don’t know why he was laughing but you wouldn’t dare to ask.
“Welp, I tried to warn you.”
Those were his last words when two figures emerged from the dark - his other brothers, Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns. Your eyes widened as you realize your situation, three on one. You walked back slowly, backing yourself up to a wall. The three now surrounding you - making sure you wouldn’t escape from them.
.•°☆.⋆。⋆☆•˚。⋆。˚•☆˚。⋆.☆•°.⋆
Which leads to now. You felt your stomach drop as Seth approached you slowly, reaching his gloved hand out to your face, lifting your chin up with his finger.
“I’d say we punish her for getting in our way - making our next target get away.” He finally spoke, his other hand reaching to gently cup your face. “What do you think we should do, gentlemen?”
Dean and Roman both look at each other and smirked, both sharing an idea. “I think we should make her regret messing with us.” Dean replied. “We should ruin that pretty little face of hers.” Roman chimed in.
“I agree.” Seth chuckled. “Y’hear that? We’re gonna punish you.”
Your eyes widened. Punish? What did they mean? You lost your train of thought when you were suddenly picked up by Seth, him placing you on his shoulder.
“Put me down!” You yelled, landing punches on Seth.
“Oh you’ll have to try harder than that, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You’re ours now.”
You squirmed trying to become loose from his grip as the three men carried you away, putting their plans on beating up the whole locker room on pause.
.•°☆.⋆。⋆☆•˚。⋆。˚•☆˚。⋆.☆•°.⋆
You were brought to an empty room, only decorated with a couch and a table, Seth finally putting you down from his shoulder.
You quivered as you watched Dean closing the door and locking it, keeping his eyes on you. It was now just the four of you in a room, without anyone interfering with whatever they wanted. You took a step back as they began to approach you. You were scared to your wits - afraid of how they were with anyone who dared cross them, you were shaking as to what they wanted from you.
“Look at her, boys. She’s afraid of us being in front of her. How adorable.” Dean chuckled flattered that you found them intimidating.
“Awww what’s the matter, sweetheart?” Seth asked. “Scared of us? You think we’re gonna hurt you?”
“Cmon, babygirl. Don’t be shy~” Roman chimed, waiting for you to answer.
You gulped, too stunned to speak.
“Y-Yes…” you replied.
You watched the Shield smile, finally getting a reaction out of you. You felt humiliated with your situation. You just wanted them to leave you alone so you could go home.
Dean approached you, completely in front of you and looking into your eyes. You shivered feeling him go to the crook of your neck, getting a smell out of you. You held your breath feeling one of his rough calloused hands touch your waist, making their way slowly up your body. Dean hummed in approval, taking note of how sensitive you were with his gentle touch. You gasped when you felt his lips gently kiss your skin, his hand now intertwined with yours. Dean chuckled to your noises as he kept kissing your neck, obsessed with your scent.
“What….what are you-“
“Shhh. Relax, doll. I’m not going to hurt you.”
He was gentle with his tone - a bit too gentle. It was slightly erotic. With his other hand, he motioned for Roman to also get a smell of you. Roman smirked and made his way behind you - his hands going under your shirt. You shivered from how cold they were. You bit your lip when you felt them go in your bra cupping your breast, giving them a squeeze. You closed your eyes tight feeling Roman gently biting your ear. Seth was amused to you trying your best not to submit to their touches and kisses, he admired seeing how you were pathetically trying to not give a reaction.
“Don’t be scared, sweetheart.” Seth laughed, watching his fellow brothers make a mess of you “You can make noise. Only us will hear you.”
“Aww is someone shy?” Dean cooed “You don’t have to be afraid.”
“Go on, babygirl.” Roman ordered
You accidentally left out a moan as you felt Dean bite harder into your skin - Roman squeezing your breasts a bit harder, playing with your nips. Your free hand went around Dean, pulling him in closer onto you. As much as you were afraid to admit it, you were getting turned on. You felt yourself getting damp to multiple kisses and hot breaths surrounding you.
“Please…I..” You tried to talk, feeling intoxicated from being touched and kissed.
“What is it, babygirl?” Roman asked “You want some more?”
“Don’t be scared, doll. Tell us what you want.” Dean added, his hand slowly going down your crotch. Your breath was shaky as you tried to open your mouth.
“I…oh fuck…I want more.” You replied, feeling a bulge being pressed against your ass. You moaned from Dean’s hot kisses all over your neck, Roman having his hands gripping your sides and continuously rubbing his bulge on your ass, still playfully biting your ear.
“Hmm, good girl” Dean whispered, getting turned on from your submissive voice.
You whined when Dean stopped toying with you, stepping back as Seth was in front of you now.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll be gentle with you.” Seth chuckled, cupping your face as he pressed his lips against yours, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. Your muffled moans and pleas turned on the three hungry men. You felt sandwiched between Seth and Roman, feeling them kiss all over you.
“Yknow…this gear of yours” Roman started, before he lifted your top up “Has always distracted me whenever you walked past us.” Before you could speak, your top was off, being completely naked from top. You shivered from your naked breasts being exposed to the air. You watched as Seth’s eyes grew hungry with lust seeing your hardened nipples as he began to play with one of them, making you whine from his touch.
“I…I don’t understand.” You started, feeling Roman place gentle kisses on the back of your neck. “I thought you three were going to literally hurt me…”
“Hurt you?” Seth was surprised from your statement “Oh no sweetheart we could never. Isn’t that right boys?”
“She’s too pretty for that” Dean smirked, admiring how sensitive you were.
“And these bottoms…” You felt one of Roman’s calloused hands make their way to your waistline, teasing part of your bottoms “They always hugged your curves in all the right places..” You yelped feeling your bottoms quickly come down, revealing your laced underwear. You were now nearly nude in front of the three behemoths, your body shivered from the sudden temperature change.
“Oh? What’s this?” Seth teased, his hand making his way to your clothed cunt, “Lace? Were you expecting this, sweetheart?”
As you opened your mouth, you felt Seth’s hand make small circles on your clit, sending a wave of vibrations down your spine. You were already wet from being kissed and toyed with from Dean and Roman, but feeling Seth play with your clit made you wetter and needy for more.
“You’re so wet, baby…” Seth whispered, his hand going faster on your clit. You whined from his touch, your eyes tightly shut. You felt so small under their touch and dominance.
You were shaking, you've never felt this kind of sensation before and it was driving you wild. Your whimpers felt like music to their ears, enjoying every sound you made whenever they touched you.
What seemed like eternity, Seth finally stopped playing with your cunt, admiring your juices being all over his fingers, Roman backing away from behind you. You were confused as to what they were going to do next.
"I always wondered what do you taste like, sweetheart"
Before you could say anything, you were placed on the couch, your legs spread wide open. You watched The Shield admiring your clothed cunt. You were scared to make a noise as Seth slowly made his way toward you, his hands gently pulling your underwear off.
"Are you scared? Pathetic. You weren't so scared in stopping us earlier. What happened to that brave little soul?" he teased, forcefully spreading your legs wider to a better view of your wet cunt.
You couldn't answer, your breath hitched feeling a warm tongue circling your clit. You couldn't move your legs much as Seth kept them open.
"F-Fuck.." you cried, your eyes shut from the waves of pleasure, you melting in front of the three. You amused them, they've never seen you so submissive like this before.
"What a good little slut..." Seth muttered, his gloved fingers circling your clit as his tongue went in you.
Dean and Roman watched in admiration but a little jealous that they weren't having their way with you just yet.
"Please...I...I want to-"
"You're not going to cum until I tell you too, understood?"
You cried from Seth's orders, feeling your stomach tighten and winding up. You whined when he stopped, unable to cum without their permission.
"I thought of something else."
You were confused by what he meant, until he motioned for Dean, making his way towards you. You were swiftly put on your knees, ass up in front of Seth. You looked up at Dean, his eyes hungry for you.
"You're going to be a good girl and take the both of us. Got it?" Dean asked, his hands removing his belt and black pants. You quickly nodded, not saying a word.
"I'm sorry, are you going to address him correctly?" Seth muttered, delivering a harsh slap on your ass; you yelped from the pain, your mind going white for a second.
"Yes...Yes sir."
Dean smirked and pulled down his boxers, revealing his thick cock. Your eyes widened from how big he was, you were worried as to how you were going to fit him all in your mouth. You lost your train of thought when you felt Seth's fingers playing with your clit, you gasped from how rough he was being.
"Open your mouth, whore"
Dean roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcefully pushing his dick in your mouth, your eyes forming tears as you gagged on his length, his tip touching the back of your throat. Seth, growing impatient, pushed himself into you, your cunt throbbing from being stuffed.
Your moans were muffled as you felt another slap across your ass, Seth thrusting in and out of you. You whimpered feeling Seth's hands roughly grabbing your sides, Dean grabbing a handful of your hair.
"God damn, you're such a slut" Dean groaned, His free hand roughly grabbing your face "You're doing so good."
You whimpered from how you were being manhandled from the two, trying to grasp for air.
"You're taking me so well, sweetheart." Seth praised, delivering another slap on your ass. The two men getting sloppier with each thrust. You felt your stomach tighten, you were getting desperate to cum.
"Look at me." Dean ordered, raising your face up, "You were wanting this for a while weren't you?" You nodded, afraid to disobey him. He smirked, biting his lip. "You're so cute."
Your eyes rolled back as Dean and Seth went harder and faster with their thrusts, you knew they were going to cum soon, your stomach getting tighter and tighter.
"I'm going to cum in your mouth, are you ready?"
You nodded to Dean, gagging from his length.
"Me too, sweetheart" you heard Seth groan, his hands grabbing your ass. "I'll let you cum, okay?"
You whined, finally wanting to be filled with cum. Your stomach beginning to wind up.
"Fuck..." Dean growled, thrusting one last time before filling your mouth with his cum.
You reached your orgasm too, your cries tighten your pussy as Seth thrusted into your cunt, his seed explode deep in you. The three of you rode out an orgasm, your body shaking from the round of sex. Dean pulled his cock out of your mouth, letting you breathe while Seth slowly pulled out of you, your pussy leaking his cum. Dean grabbed your face, leaving hot kisses all over you. "You're a good slut...but you know we aren't done. Roman hasn't had a turn yet with you."
You slowly turned to see an impatient Roman staring at you, smirking as you knew he was going to be aggressive with you. You yelped from Seth smacking your ass one more time before standing up, Dean giving you one more kiss before he also gotten up.
"She's all yours, Roman."
As Dean and Seth stood back, Roman took his time making his way toward you, admiring your flushed face and your submissive position. He gently cupped your face with his hand. He smirked looking into your eyes, listening to your heavy breathing.
You were scared as he remained silent, thinking of what he wanted to do to you. You didn't want to question him since he wasn't that much of a talker. What seemed like forever, he smashed his lips onto yours, catching you off guard from his swift movements. You whined as both of your tongues twirled against each other. His free hand slowly making its way to one of your breast, playing with your nipples. You whined from his touch, rough but gentle. You knew this wasn't what he really wanted.
He finally pulled away, allowing your lungs air. His eyes never leaving yours. He gently stroked your face, still not saying a word. Why wasn't he saying anything? Was he already getting bored? What was he planning?
You looked down and saw a massive bulge in his pants, your eyes widening. "How is he going to fit that in me?" you thought to yourself. He took noticed and chuckled, amused to how shocked you were.
"How cute..." Roman muttered.
You were startled to his tone, finally hearing him speak. He swiftly put you on your back, your cunt being in front of him. You watched as Roman undid his belt and his pants, revealing his huge, veiny cock. "Holy...fuck" your thoughts were full of concern. You felt as if he was going to rip through you.
He positioned himself, not breaking eye contact and keeping your legs open, watching your face expressions carefully. You gasped feeling his tip tease your clit, throbbing for attention. You could feel your face getting warm.
You whined as he roughly pushed himself into you, your walls tightening from how thick he was. He made sure you adjusted to his size before thrusting roughly into you, grunting from how tight you were.
"Fuck, babygirl..." his groans hypnotized you, your eyes never leaving his, your tits bouncing with each thrust. He leaned toward you, pressing his lips against yours again, you wrapped your arms and legs around him. You were surprised he wasn't being as rough as you were thinking. You felt it wasn't really what he really wanted to do with you just yet.
He pulled away from your lips, wanting to look into your eyes again.
You shut your eyes tight from how good you felt, You gasped as Roman grabbed your throat, limiting a bit of air.
"Look at me baby. Look at me while I fuck you."
You opened your eyes again, obeying Roman as he thrusted harder into you, your legs pathetically trying to close themselves. It was too much for you to handle.
"You're so beautiful like this."
His praises were erotic. You couldn't talk much as his grip went a little tighter on your neck. You felt your stomach slowly tighten. You gasped his thrusts went faster into you, you were trying to grab his arm that was around your neck. Roman quickly intertwined his hand with yours, preventing you from releasing his grip.
"I wouldn't do that, babygirl."
You cried feeling your stomach getting tighter, his thrusts getting sloppier.
"Do you want to cum, baby? I'm getting ready to." He growled, holding back from cumming in you too quickly.
"Ye..Ye..Yess" Your words were limited, feeling yourself getting closer to your limit. He smirked and released his grip on your throat, letting you breathe.
"Fuck baby...I'm gonna cum"
You sobbed, cumming all over his cock, one last thrust before he came in you, your eyes rolling back, shaking from your second orgasm. Roman kissing you one more time before pulling out of you, he smiled looking how exhausted you were.
"We're still not done."
You felt your stomach dropped from those words. Not done? What else could they have wanted? You look back and see Dean and Seth coming toward you and Roman, having another idea.
Roman smirked and helped you up, having another thought in his head. Just then, you were picked up for a second, Dean now laying on his back, you on top of him, Roman behind you and Seth in front of you. You knew where this was going. You whined feeling Dean push himself into you without warning, Roman teasing your ass before slowly pushing his tip in. You were about to scream before Seth put his dick in your mouth, muffling your cries. You never felt stuffed like this before. It was a little painful, but you didn't mind. Your shut your eyes tight as the three men began to thrust into you, you feeling so full to a point you've never felt before. The sounds of groans and skin slapping filled the room, it was too erotic for either of you to handle. You never had sex like this before but it didn't bother you.
"How's this, y/n? Us filling you up like this?" Seth laughed as he cupped your face, watching your eyes roll back, his other hand grabbing a lot of your hair roughly.
You could only let out a few muffled whimpers and cries, begging to be fucked rougher.
"This is what happens when you cross us, y'hear?"
You gasped as Dean began playing with your tits, making you overstimulated, sure to cum soon. Roman was now the one delivering harsh slaps on your ass, even harder than what Seth did earlier. Tears formed in your eyes from the overbearing pleasure. It was too much yet it felt too good to stop.
Their thrusts gotten harder and disgustingly faster, your stomach tightening quicker than the last few times. Your breath gotten quicker from each thrust. Seth took notice and grabbed your face forcing you to look at him.
"Fuck...I know you're about to cum but you're not going to yet, slut."
You whined from his demands, trying desperately hard not to disobey him from cumming too quickly. Your body felt like jello, it was unbearable to keep still in the same position due to the amount of pleasure: Seth's tip always touching the back of your throat with each thrust, Dean hitting your sensitive spots, and Roman stuffing your ass with his cock. It was a lot to handle.
You were getting impatient, your whines growing loud from your upcoming orgasm, it was starting to hurt holding it.
"I'm getting close, fuck...I'm about to cum in you, baby." Dean growled, his grip gotten tighter on one of your breasts.
"Same here. You still holding it, hmm?" Seth asked you, your eyes blurred from tears. You quickly nodded, it was really starting to hurt holding your orgasm."
"Shit, I'm about to cum." Roman muttered, his thrusts getting sloppy.
You cried out releasing your orgasm on Dean's cock, Your vision going white. Dean followed behind, filling you up with his cum. Roman forcefully grabbing your sides, his seed burst into your ass, and Seth cumming down your throat. The four of you rode out a rough orgasm. Seth finally pulled out of your mouth, keeping his tight grip on you keeping eye contact. Your breath was scarce, finally having some time to breathe. Both Roman and Dean pulled out of you, still staying in their position, all of you breathing heavily from the round of sex. Your body was shaking, shivering from how rough you were fucked, cum leaking from both of your holes.
Seth chuckled, amused from how completely exhausted you were now, giving you a rough kiss on your lips.
"This was your punishment."
#wwe smut#wwe oneshot#wwe#roman reigns smut#seth rollins smut#jon moxley smut#dean ambrose fanfic#dean ambrose smut#smut#wwe imagine#the shield#the shield wwe#monday night raw#wwe raw#romanreignsimagine#seth rollins#roman reigns#dean ambrose#jon moxley
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
Numbers l Chapter Three
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Disabled OC
Content Warning: Disability, negative self talk, blushing Spencer, talk of bizarre piercing fetish
Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: Brooke is thrust into work and it's not exactly what she expects.
Taglist: @just-call-me-by-yn @esote-rika
A/n: Thank you all for reading so far! Working on this fic has really made me fall in love with writing again 🩷🩷🩷 Also again, credit to @just-call-me-by-yn for always making my banners! I love you!
Story:
Luckily, Hotch had apparently worked closely with Penelope to explain the adaptive tech I use to run a pc efficiently. So now I was helping her rummage through my backpack. I have to admit watching her pull out various tangled plugs was an entertaining sight. At first I wanted to apologize for not having my equipment more organized, but Penelope was so proud of herself every time she untangled a new wire. It was like a game to her.
While that fiasco was going on, out of the corner of my eye I noticed Spencer dragging his finger down each page of the case file then turning each page about every 15 seconds. His eyes tracked each word at lightning speed. Honestly it looked like when a kid pretends to read to get it over with. I know I should probably just leave him be, but my curiosity outweighed manners. My eyebrows furrow in his direction “Are you really reading that fast?”
His head snapped up to look at me “Hm?” He looked confused at first but after a second he let out a small laugh under his breath like he was a little embarrassed and nodded softly “Yeah…”
My mouth opened to ask obvious follow up questions, like most notably, how on earth is that even humanly possible? But I was quickly cut off.
Spencer cleared his throat before continuing “Actually our conscious minds can process 16 bits of information per second, while our unconscious mind can process 11 million. So to answer your question, yes I really can read this fast.”
There goes my stunned face again and I blinked at the guy for a moment. I wasn’t sure if I should be disturbed, or wildly impressed by this guy’s smarts, I was mostly in awe. He was like a human computer. I like computers, so we’ll probably get along.
My face softened and I giggled softly “Cool.”
That same pink tint creeped across Spencer’s cheeks as he smiled, then went back to reading the case file.
Did this guy ever get complimented? This was the second time he blushed in my direction and I wasn’t sure what I was doing to cause it. Honestly it was kind of… cute in a boyish kind of way.
“Ah ha!” Penelope cheered, making me turn around to see her proudly displaying all my equipment set up.
I smiled and guided my wheelchair up to the desk, making sure everything I would need is plugged in. Although there was probably no need to doubt Penelope, her portion of the desk had three separate monitors she had to run, a few plugs were most likely nothing to her.
Penelope hung my backpack on the back of my wheelchair before taking her seat next to me “Should we take this for a spin?” She grinned.
I smiled back, unable to hide my eagerness to get started. Penelope handed me the small mouse that fits in my hand along with the touchpad keyboard and I signed into my system for the first time.
🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷
Snapshots of different message exchanges appear on my screen. It took a little bit of time, but after about an hour, Penelope, Spencer, and I managed to find one common person all the missing women have had contact with. Their username was Hotrod94, if that doesn’t scream man who thinks he’s a gift from God I don’t know what does. The back and forth text exchanges stopped completely within 3 days so the timeline fit. Now us 3 were looking through each conversation for any info we could find that could tell us anything about where these women could be, or who took them.
Each message seemed normal, too normal. It was almost haunting how the person on the other side of the screen could sound so charming. No matter how smart or vigilant these women were, they didn’t have a chance.
“These poor girls had no idea what they were walking into…” Penelope sighed under her breath. I could hear the empathy and hopelessness she was feeling for these women on the screen.
I couldn’t help but feel it myself. It was one thing to talk about it, but looking into the eyes of each woman now, only made the urgency to find them stronger. During training they tell you don’t get emotionally involved, don’t let yourself go there. It will cloud your judgment. Sure, most of that is true, but now that I was here, empathy is what was pushing me.
Spencer stuck his head between us to get a better look at the screens. His eyes squinted like he was trying to focus on something. You didn’t have to look at him hard to see the hamsters running on a wheel in his head. With that brain of his, those hamsters were probably running a marathon at lightning speed. The poor creatures probably don’t know what rest even is.
His face was only a few inches from mine but for some unexplainable reason, he felt closer. It was like my personal bubble doubled in size to fit him inside. My gaze kept flickering in his direction before I realize what I’m doing and my attention goes back to the screen in front of me. That cycle went on about 3 times before Spencer finally spoke.
He used his pen he had been fidgeting with and pointed to one of the sentences sent by the unsub. “He never uses I in a sentence, it’s almost like he's trying to distance himself from each woman.”
Penelope scoffed, “Well if I had a soul and I was manipulating these women anyway, I’d do the same.”
I try not to laugh, but a small snicker slipped through anyways. It was going to be fun sitting next to this sass every day.
I look back at the screen like before, but this time something sticks out. My eyes narrow as I tap a few keys to zoom in on each woman's ear. It can’t be, it’s probably a reach. “Is it just me, or do all these women have double piercings on their ears? That’s probably a coincidence, right?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady. I didn’t want my voice to show I wasn’t confident in my findings.
Spencer looks over at my screen before shaking his head “No… that actually makes sense…” His voice trails off like he was still thinking. Then he stood up straight to continue “Actually that could be huge for the profile. There’s a fetish called Piquerism. Essentially it’s when someone feels aroused by piercing another. Most commonly by stabbing or slashing, but it can occur when the person has a simple ear piercing.”
“Ew.” Penelope shudders.
I was still reeling from the way Spencer spit out that information like it was common knowledge. He almost seemed proud of himself for having that in his back pocket.
He clearly didn’t pick up on the creeped out looks on Penelope and I’s face because he continued like nothing happened “Penelope, can you let the team know?”
She shuddered one more time before nodding.
I was too much in my head to pay attention to her calling the team. This was my new reality. Dealing with potential creeps like this was now my usual. I knew it was going to be hard sitting in front of these screens every day and looking at the horrors that dance across them, but now that I was here, I was afraid nightmares were going to find me in my sleep every night. How did these people do it? Maybe I don’t have the stomach for this.
I glanced over at the numerous toys on Penelope’s side of the desk and the dark cloud that was forming over my head started to break up to let light in. The bright colors drowning out the darkness.
“That was- um… A good catch Beven.” Spencer stuttered quietly enough that the call didn’t pick up his voice.
I look up to see him smiling softly. Even though those words seemed shaky, they gave me a surge of confidence. Hearing I did something good from someone as smart as him made me want to give myself a pat on the back. My lips curl into a smile.
I already considered Penelope a friend, but it seemed like I can add Dr. Spencer Reid to that list. Leading up to today I was so nervous how the team would perceive me, wheelchair and all. I was lucky for most of my life I was surrounded by people who didn’t see me as different. My parents, my family, and my friends never made me feel like I was less than. The professional scene always seemed a little daunting though. I knew what it looked like to any bystander, she can barely lift her arms, how is she supposed to be anything else than the greeter at Walmart? I get it, honestly I would probably say the same thing if I was them. Regardless, I knew I had more in me, and I was grateful everyone here saw what I could do, not what I can’t.
“Bevan, can you come with a list of tattoo parlors that also provide piercings in the general area of the abductions?” Hotch’s voice catches my attention through the call system “We’re gonna split up and find out who frequents the most.”
I quickly nodded, giving a “Yes sir.” Before he assigns Penelope a cross checking assignment.
My fingers tap away, narrowing down a list of parlors that aren’t close to the abduction sights. After a minute, I relay the list to Hotch, followed by him thanking me.
Penelope hangs up before giving me a high 5 “Good work Newbie. Someday you might be as fast as yours truly.” She jokes while resting her chin on her hands.
I snicker and shake my head “I appreciate that, but I watch you type and I don’t think I could ever get there.”
“Hm…” Penelope smirks before turning back to her computer screens “You're smart too, Newbie. I am the best.”
Now Spencer and I laugh.
#criminal minds#spencer reid#fangirl#mgg#mathew gray gubler#spencer#reid#fanfiction#fiction#criminal minds fanfic#fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x disabled oc#spencer reid x oc#dr spencer reid#bau team
34 notes
·
View notes
Note
Molly I have no dentist and I would trust you over a rando one if I did. Is rinsing with peroxide safe for your teeth? I am being told to use it for whitening but some people tell me its damaging.
Let me just put my Dr Molly coat on.
Okay here’s the think about Peroxide.
It’s not the worst thing you could use, it’s also not the best. It also won’t whiten your teeth really if you’re using it as a mouth rinse.
Let’s chat about whitening if that’s what you’re after. Hydrogen peroxide is used for whitening teeth in certain percentages and it works! It removes stains from your teeth brightens and whitens your smile. What it also does is makes your teeth a little bit more “porous” in doing this which can cause sensitivity. Here’s the thing though: whitening isn’t permanent. It’s a process. Great for an event, not forever. You have to keep doing it because foods and drinks have food colouring in them which stain your teeth. Tea coffee red wine and things like turmeric are the major players here. Unless you’re only going to drink water for the rest of your life it won’t be permanent. It also won’t whiten any restorations in your front teeth, crowns bridges or fillings.
I’m fond of a 15% carbamide peroxide mix myself used with vacuum formed medicament trays when I want to whiten. Why do I recommend a special tray? Bleaching is fine for teeth not for gums. We don’t want to bleach our gums.
That being said you don’t have a dentist so you probably won’t get a medicament tray made or maybe you don’t want to commit that much to it. In which case I always recommend opalescence go. Nothing stronger than 10% if it hasn’t been prescribed for you specifically.
Why do I like Carbamide Peroxide? She’s a bit gentler, so you tend to get less sensitivity. Some people have more sensitive teeth because of gum recession, thinner enamel and a million other reasons.
So basically: Whitening is a process. Whitening toothpastes and mouthwashes are… frankly a waste a of time. Toothpaste is a fluoride delivery system and for fresh breath the most important thing is your brushing technique! If you’re looking for a good mouthwash please use a non alcohol containing one! My favourite to recommend is a Colgate one called Neutrafluor.
If you are using peroxide as a mouthwash PLEASE do not use straight hydrogen peroxide unless you’ve spoken to a health professional who has examined you. Use a peroxide containing mouth rinse. You want to be sure of the percentage you’re using! Gums love getting burnt and we want to protect them! They’re the foundations of teeth!
It’s also important to note that whitening products are not recommended for people under the age of sixteen, pregnant or breast feeding women. Let’s be safe please.
Anyway, those are my personal experiences and thoughts. Us dentists are all fickle different creatures and we like what has worked in our clinical experience and this is based on legalities in the country where I practice.
Oh and only floss the teeth you want to keep I guess. ✌🏻
30 notes
·
View notes
Note
Maybe some gabe and emma angst🫣🫣
honestly i don’t even know if they’d have angst tbh😭 they’re so nonchalant and chill with one another. i guess we could continue to build off of the slight angst i wrote the other day about emma feeling out of place around gabe’s friends.
i think in their first year of dating it’s something that takes her awhile to get used to and really integrate herself into the group. like she knows samy & hannah & julianne all love her, but it’s like her own mind telling her she doesn’t kind of thing. like an anxiety thing i guess.
part 2??
au masterlist
the huge women’s soccer game against the university of michigan was this weekend and after hearing about it nonstop from gabe the past week, emma was tagging along with gabe and the guys to go watch samy, a michigan friend the blonde’s also heard a lot about since she started talking to gabe back in september.
she’d never seen the guys so excited for something that wasn’t hockey because the walk to the stadium was rowdy between the seven of them. they were talking over one another, poking each other with the signs they made, and of course, slightly tipsy from the few shots they took before to get themselves hyped up.
emma lingered near the back with gabe who was shouting along with them. she really tried joining in with them, but seven guys against one girl never ended well. even ryan’s girlfriend was in town for the game which told emma how important this was to all of them.
she found it really endearing that they all cared so much about samy like this and emma was pretty excited to meet the infamous girl.
“you doing okay?” gabe wondered for a moment as he unattached himself from what was going on in front of them.
“yeah, i’m good. never seen you guys so excited before,” the blonde giggled.
“yeah, we get pretty hyped for soccer. just wait till you see hughesy play. she’s a beast,” the dark-haired boy gushed.
emma had done a little research last night when she couldn’t sleep. she saw the old news headlines about samy winning back to back to back state titles in high school and winning 2 gold medals back when she played hockey. the youngest hughes was the real deal and it was no wonder that all of her brothers were the same.
everyone scanned their tickets as they entered the stadium and emma tried keeping her grip on gabe’s hand so they didn’t lose one another or she didn’t lose them. ryan and will were in the front leading the way to the stands and julianne was up with them too. emma talked a bit with the girl, but she always got pulled away by one of the guys so their conversations were a bit short lived.
emma quickly learned that there was a set way the boys always sat in the stands together when they went to soccer games. ryan, will, and gabe took the front while drew, vote, aram, and jacob sat behind them. because gabe was in the front, emma got to be too and julianne was beside her.
“i see hughesy,” drew pointed down to the field where samy and her teammates were warming up on the farther end of the field. her matching #6 with will spread across her back and her braided ponytail swayed back and forth as she moved.
emma felt like she was in the presence of some celebrity or something.
“hughesy! hughesy! hughesy!” the guys started chanting all together which grabbed the girl’s attention.
she quickly smiled and hurried her way over to where they were. will was leaning over the railing to say hi. emma smiled at the couple’s affection and then observed the way the others took turns greeting samy.
just the way they interacted and hugged her showed how close they all were. it warmed a part of emma’s heart but the other part didn’t feel as warm for some reason.
was it jealousy that everyone was so close with samy and emma’s never really had a close group of friends before? or was it because her boyfriend was close with a very insanely popular girl?
now, emma never considered herself the jealous type. she hardly ever got jealous, but for some reason there was this tug in her chest and a weird feeling she couldn’t shake.
“oh my god, are you emma?” samy finally turned her attention to the blonde. she flushed.
“yeah, i am..” emma said.
“i’ve heard so much about you!! it’s good to finally meet you,” samy was a hugger by nature as she wrapped gabe’s girlfriend into her arms.
“it’s good to meet you too. i’ve also heard a lot,” emma laughed a little.
“gabe, you picked a real good one. we’ll have to all talk after the game, but i’m so glad you guys are here!” samy said a goodbye before hurrying back down to the field.
the boys and julianne were now talking over one another about the brunette. they started talking soccer logistics which unfortunately, emma didn’t know too much about. there was also talk about thanksgiving break and winter break—and then also something about world juniors?
emma wasn’t really keeping up.
and for most of the time, she didn’t really keep up. the guys were shouting things next to her and behind her the whole game. ryan was the loudest and grumbling whenever the refs made bad calls that sometimes got boston’s student section yelling back at him about cheering for the other team.
all emma could really follow was samy down on the field where the soccer player proved just how good she was by scoring 3 of the 4 goals michigan earned that gave them an easy win.
when the game finished, they all lingered and waited for samy to come back out so they could catch up. emma stuck by gabe’s side who had his arm wrapped around her waist, but he was in deep conversation with drew and aram about world juniors coming up.
that feeling emma had since the beginning of the game only got bigger.
she knew she didn’t know everyone that well yet and that they all spent two good years together in michigan, but she couldn’t help but feel like she was always missing something whenever she was in their world with them. like she was on the outside looking in or something.
will was on samy first when she came out finally. he was hugging her and kissing her and the guys started chirping at him for it.
“yeah, we get it. you’re together,” drew teased which made the others laugh.
will just rolled his eyes while samy seemed un-phased by it. emma wondered how she let the teasing roll off her back so easily because she always got embarrassed when the guys teased her and gabe.
“honestly, i’m so glad we’re adding more girls to this group. julianne and i always feel overpowered,” samy chuckled and glanced at emma.
“hey, we’re not that bad. us being at boston is actually probably the greatest gift you could receive from us because you don’t see us everyday anymore,” drew quickly cut in.
“a true blessing, yes. it’s so nice not getting to see you everyday,” samy teased.
“hey,” will pouted and emma watched how the brunette pinched her boyfriend’s cheek.
she glanced at gabe who was staring at the two with a look that was hard to read. that pinch in her stomach became harder to ignore and maybe emma was a jealous person.
the group talked for a bit longer before samy needed to go. they let will have the last moment with her in private. emma walked with gabe back to the dorms, her mind racing with different thoughts about the look he was giving samy and will and how she’d probably never reach the level they all were with one another.
“dinner later?” gabe hummed, smiling as he glanced at his girlfriend once they were inside.
“yeah, sure. i’m feeling kind of tired though, so i’ll text you,” emma mumbled a half lie because she was pretty tired from the game.
she tried not to read into gabe’s expression when she said that, “okay. well, let me know. i’ll see you later?”
“yeah, see you,” she let him kiss her forehead before emma headed towards the stairs. she lived on the 3rd floor so she never needed to take the elevator whereas gabe was up on the 8th floor with will.
needless to say, emma didn’t text gabe later.
#gabe perreault#emma grace cooper#emma grace x gabe perreault#so high school au#gabe perreault x oc#gabe perreault fic#gabe perreault hockey#gabe perreault fluff#gabe perreault blurb#gabe perreault angst#gabe perreault imagines#gabe perreault imagine#gabe perreault 34#gp34#boston college#bc hockey#bc eagles#boston college hockey#boston college blurb#boston college hockey blurb#boston college hockey imagine#boston college imagine#new york rangers#nyr#ny rangers#ice hockey#nhl#nhl hockey#hockey#nhl blurb
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Flirting. What is it good for?
Yes I had to use Nick Miller. No this is not about New Girl. It’s about Lukola, our own Luke Newton and Nicola Coughlan. This is about flirting and what it is and why it’s important to their story.
We saw a lot of “friendly” and over the top remarks throughout the WT and it made us pause and question the validity of the PR. Was the PR too much? Was it just their chemistry shooting off the charts? Was it unidentifiable flirting? Was it just their beautiful friendship that they don’t have with anyone else? All questions I cannot, will not answer. Because we honestly don’t know and may never know. We can speculate, which if I’m honest…. I’m 100% doing because we all saw something.
youtube
Will she drop the fan? I don’t think so, my opinion.
“Flirting is a fundamental fixture in humans’ sexual repertoire, a time-honored way of signaling interest and attraction, to say nothing of mutual awareness. It is a kind of silent language spoken by men and women around the world” (https://www.psychologytoday.com/intl/basics/flirting?amp).
Sounds like we are all monkeys throwing poop? Bananas? I don’t know and I don’t want to look it up, but it’s essentially a mating ritual. ⬇️ Wildly inappropriate but I had to! 🤭😁😘
“Flirting can be subtle and indirect, so sometimes it’s hard to decipher whether or not someone is expressing interest. Clues to spot flirting are body language, such as smiling, leaning forward, and touching, and verbal cues such as compliments or references to being available. You can also ask yourself if the person’s behavior is consistent over time and whether they act differently with you than they do with others.” (https://www.psychologytoday.com/intl/basics/flirting?amp).
I know we have seen some of this. We also know that Nic and Luke have both stated that actors can be touchy people. So it can be difficult to tell apart, but it’s the level of chemistry that I feel defines this. Do we see the same traits when either person is with others? I tend to think (my opinion) that it’s not the same as when it’s with them.
Another good article:
Essentially this article talk about how chemistry is not an official scientific term, though it’s defined as a romantic and sexual spark.
Helen Fisher, Ph.D who is a senior research fellow at the Kinsey Institute and the author of Anatomy of Love, did a study of 17 subjects. An MRI was given and then studied and every time when the subject looked at a picture of their loved ones (ones they considered to be intensely in love with, there was a reaction. The result was the scan showed areas of the brain associated with reward and motivation that is rich in dopamine was activated.“Dr. Fisher explains, “When people say they have chemistry with someone, they’re being accurate” (Good Housekeeping).
So all I’m saying is, flirting may get you there. You may never realize that you are doing it. But it’s a chemical reaction, whether it’s lust or just primal (Again…. Not with the monkey jokes). Flirting can be proven, watch for the signs.
Read the Good Housekeeping article. It’s really fascinating as chemistry is just the diving board of any relationship.
We saw flirting, I’m going to call it. They didn’t hold back their chemistry, they just knew how to project it. And project it correctly they did.
Xx 🩵
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Flames of Fate
Most of you followed me from my Viktor arcane smut…I have a feeling you won’t be interested in my Enji works so please just pretend you don’t see these ones thank you 😊
Your Fuyumi’s new work best friend you go to her house one night to drink and talk boys that’s when you meet her dad…
Female reader, age gap, daddy kink, size difference, smut with plot, fluff, etc
MDNI
Yeah so for some reason my Enji obsession always gets so bad when I’m ovulating…I had to give in and write Enji again for my own guilty pleasure. Hope you like the fic!
Fuyumi is 25, Enji is 45, you are around the same as as them in this story. (In my head y/n is 23-25 but you can make the reader whatever age you wish)
Song I was thinking of while writing “guys my age” by hey Violet
Fuyumi work’s at a hero day care. It’s nothing too special but it pays really good and it’s secure. Her dad gave her a good recommendation so she knows for sure they’d never dare fire Endeavor’s daughter.
She’s been working there since she was 20. Fuyumi went to college for about a year then dropped out. Enji didn’t mind as long as she was able to find a good job which she did. She hasn’t been able to make friends at day care because most of the women working there are far older and have little to nothing in common other than good cooking skills. That was until you started working there a few months ago.
Fuyumi was so happy to have someone close to her age working there with her! You are a bit shy so it took a few months for you guys to start being close. Finally you both got close enough for her to ask you over for drinks.
Fuyumi wanted to talk boy problems. She didn’t have anyone to vent to about stuff like this. She definitely couldn’t talk to her brothers about this sort of thing. You honestly found it amusing you had always thought Fuyumi was the innocent type you were eager to learn more about her.
Fuyumi had picked you up from your apartment to bring you over to her house.
When she had parked outside a massive house you were confused. You didn’t know she was Endeavors daughter. She doesn’t ever talk about her family aside from her brothers. You had thought she lived alone. You felt a little underdressed now. You were wearing a black fitted long sleeve shirt with a long skirt, still a nice choice but still.
You “Hey um, this is where you live?”
Fuyumi “Yeah! Sorry I forgot to mention. I still live with my brothers and dad! Though my brothers all live in school dorms so mostly just my dad.”
You “No worries. I now feel a bit underdressed for such a nice house haha”
Fuyumi “Don’t worry about it, you always look great y/n! If anything you always make me feel underdressed at work with all your natural beauty. Well here we are! Do you have any drink preferences?”
You “Nothing too strong I can’t handle alcohol that well.”
You both walk into the house. It’s absolutely beautiful and spotless. You wonder if her father hires a cleaner or if Fuyumi does this all herself. She leads you to the living room, it’s almost the size of your apartment. You can imagine she must get lonely being in such a big house all the time with her brothers at school.
Fuyumi comes back with a few bottles of wine and some glasses.
Fuyumi “Stealing some of my dad’s fancy wine tonight. But don’t worry he won’t mind. It’ll be just us for a while dad doesn’t get back till late.”
You smirk while pouring a glass “So…what are these so called boy problems you were so eager to tell me about mm?”
You both spend a few hours chatting about boys. Turns out Fuyumi had been sleeping with two men at the same time. They found out and now she doesn’t know who to choose. She’s considering being polygamous with them. So unexpected but you figure she needs some excitement in her life. After all working at a daycare isn’t really all that exciting even if they do all have quirks.
Endeavor had arrived back home from work earlier than his daughter expected. It’s around 7 she wasn’t expecting him till 10 especially since it’s a Friday. Fuyumi was laughing so loudly talking about the sex she had last night neither one of you heard Endeavor come in. He knew when his daughter was laughing so loudly she had to be drinking again. Enji knew whenever she drank she forgot to eat he wouldn’t let her go to bed on an empty stomach. Trying his best to Ignore the topic she was talking about he walked up to the living room and knocked gently on the already half open sliding door.
Enji teases “Fuyumi are you stealing my wine again?”
Fuyumi “Oh my god dad! I- I thought you’d be home later.”
Enji “Oh, hello, I am Fuyumi’s father. Sorry I didn’t know anyone else was here. I’m Mister Todoroki. Have either of you girls eaten? If not I’ll order something. What do you both want?”
As soon as he walks through the door you lock eyes with him. He’s the largest man you’ve ever seen. He looked so sexy and intimidating at the same time. Then when he opened his mouth, oh my god. You’d never known someone could speak that low. His voice had too big of an effect on you. You had to gently press your legs together hoping no one would notice since the table was in the way. You shouldn’t be thinking this way about your best friend’s father. She’d probably hate you if she found out. It’s even worse that both of you hadn’t broken eye contact since he walked in. You were desperately waiting for Fuyumi to answer. The only thing you wanted to eat right now was her dad.
Fuyumi “No not yet, Chinese takeout is good. Is that okay for you y/n?”
You smile and nod at Enji “Yes thats fine. Thank you sir.” before turning your gaze back to Fuyumi.
You were the first thing Enji noticed when he came in the living room. You were striking. He knew Fuyumi had mentioned making a new friend at work but he never thought she would be this breathtaking. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were smaller than most women. A little smaller than Fuyumi who was also already small. He wanted you to look up at him like that forever. Enji was going to call to get a pickup order but instead heads right out to get it himself. He needs time to wash those thoughts out of his head. It didn’t help the whole time he was gone he thought about how beautiful your hair looked. How cute your flushed face was when you weren’t expecting anyone to come home. He figured he just needed to get fucked. Though it hadn’t been that long since he had a one night stand. Something about you was different, more intriguing. It didn’t help that he knew he probably wouldn’t think anything was more beautiful than you. He shouldn’t be thinking about his daughters only friend like this.
As soon as Enji left the awkward tension left and the two of you got back to chatting as if he was never there.
Fuyumi “I’m sorry i should’ve told you who my dad was! I didn’t think he’d be home at all he usually works really late Fridays. I didn’t want you to just be my friend because of my dad a lot of girls in college used to talk to me only because of him.”
Oh, you hadn’t even realized it was Endeavor for a few minutes the only thing you could think about was how attractive that man was. He looked so different out of his Hero costume.
You “I guess it explains the house haha. It’s alright Fuyumi don’t feel bad for not telling me. I get it, I do. When I was younger both of my parents were drunks. They left me to fend for myself. I had to live out of random guys houses until I had enough money for my own rent. I never told anyone that because I knew they wouldn’t want to be my friend. They’d think I was too troubled. Some people found out in highschool and well let’s just say that’s the reason you’re my only friend right now.”
Fuyumi “I would never judge you for that. I’m glad we both know eachother better now. You could probably already tell but you’re my only friend too. I was so happy when you started working at the daycare!”
Fuyumi “So tell me about your boy life now, I’ve basically told you all of mine. It’s only fair y/n”
You “Well about those “guys” I used to live with in highschool. I guess those were sort of relationships if you want to call it that. I didn’t have any money so they asked me to sleep with them to “make up for it” I didn’t really enjoy it. None of them could make me cum but it was fine at least I had a roof over my head. Thank god for this job now. Pays for a decent apartment.”
Fuyumi had no idea why you lived in such a small apartment with your job. It was the size of her bedroom. Granted her bedroom was bigger than average and due to her dad being Endeavor she gets payed more than everyone else but she doesn’t know that.
Fuyumi “Very glad you have an apartment now. Were there better guys after that?”
You “Well I dated two guys after that who were our age. The first one, horrible in bed, and had such a major cheating problem. Fuck that many girls and you still don’t know how to make one finish? Funny because he was the one that left actually. The second guy was so sweet. I tried to like him I really did. I figured if I was with someone nice then I’d actually be treated well and able to finish for once. No luck there. He was so boring he couldn’t even make me laugh once. I felt bad because I knew he was a good person but after two years I just had to end it. I thought the relationship would get better as it aged but I only grew more tired. Recently I started talking to someone new. We aren’t dating yet. Still the talking stages. He can’t seem to remember a single thing about me though. He even called me the wrong name last night. But I’m bored so I guess I’ll date him. It’s not like there’s any other better men out there right now for me. Maybe he can be useful and go down on me. Speaking of, why are so many men so scared to do that nowadays as if they don’t shove themselves down our mouths not caring if we like it? So annoying!”
Fuyumi smirks “Can’t finish? I can give you some toys later to help with that. Maybe plastic can treat you better than a man.”
You “Fuyumi!”
You both laugh so loud after that. Both of you even more drunk now and unaware that Enji had been back to hear that conversation. He shouldn’t have been listening but he couldn’t help it. You seemed so sweet with the way Fuyumi always talks about you. You’re drop dead gorgeous too he couldn’t believe you’ve had such bad luck with men. Before he waits too long that someone awkwardly sees him he makes his way to the living room. He walks a little heavier so you both can hear him.
Enji “Hi girls. Here’s your food. Don’t drink too much you’ll make yourselfs sick.”
You were so embarrassed hoping he didn’t hear any of the conversation. Fuyumi was too drunk to care she started filling her face with the food immediately.
You “Thank you so much Mister Todoroki sir, you didn’t have to. I really appreciate the food.”
Enji “You’re welcome y/n, I hope you like the food.” He points to Fuyumi “Did she drink too much?”
You chuckle “Yeah i think a little.”
Fuck her laugh is cute
Why is he looking at me like that did I do something?
Enji “I’ll leave both of you be, I’ll be in my office if you need something.”
I hope I didn’t stare too long I don’t want her thinking Fuyumi’s dad is a creep.
A little while after eating it’s midnight now. Fuyumi was supposed to drive you home but she’s passed out on the couch now. You loudly stumble your way all to the front door. You’re going to call a late night cab once you’re outside. Enji hears the noise of your heels walking about. Right before you can open the front door you feel a strong heat radiating behind you and feel a hard push on the door. Oh fuck. Endeavor is standing behind me isn’t he. You look up and see his hand pressed against the door. You turn around to look up at his face. “I was going to call a cab sir-“
Enji “It’s far too late and you’re far too drunk to go home. We have spare rooms. I’ll make you a bed. Don’t try to argue I won’t take no for an answer. I know Fuyumi will be happy to talk more with you in the morning. Now let me show you to your room.”
Was he always this hot when he was stern? All you can do is nod and follow him. Just as you thought the house couldn’t get any bigger the upstairs was even more beautiful. There were so many rooms you wondered what they were all for. He couldn’t stop thinking about what you were telling Fuyumi about men. He should be more nervous to say anything but he feels like he has to.
Enji “I know it’s not my place but I overheard a little. A nice respectable young woman like you should not settle for awful men. You should drop that fool who can’t remember simple things about you. Y/n you can find much better.”
You “oh- I um. Thanks I will.”
You had just met did he really think that highly of you?
Enji “Here’s the bathroom. Please brush your teeth while I bring you something to wear to sleep.”
He would’ve got something of Fuyumi’s for you to wear but he wasn’t sure what clothes she was okay having borrowed. He got one of his sons old sweatshirts and instead.
Enji “Here’s a sweatshirt it should be comfortable enough for tonight.”
Without thinking you start to undress infront of him to put the sweatshirt on. He should really look away but you don’t seem to notice. You’re too drunk to care. He can’t bring himself to look away anyways. Your breasts look so soft. He could fit both of them in one hand. You’re even shorter without your heels on. And the sweatshirt, oh god. The sweatshirt goes down long enough that he can’t see anything more as you undo your skirt from under the sweatshirt.
You looked so small in it. It came above your knees. He wants to see what you look like in one of his shirts next. Maybe next time you sleep over he can lend you one of his.
Enji “I’ll wash your clothes tomorrow morning. I brought some of Fuyumi’s makeup remover too-“
You wine in protest “Ew no! I don’t want you to see me without makeup you already are seeing me drunk!”
Enji “Come on, don’t be bad. It’s not good to sleep in your makeup.”
The way he said that so sternly yet so calm is making you feel more wet than you want to admit. You immediately submit and grab the makeup wipes away from him to wipe off the makeup yourself. As you do you are a bit wobbly standing up, you feel so dizzy. Your reflection in the mirror is fuzzy from a mix of wine, makeup in your eyes, and tiredness.
Enji sits down and pats his lap. “Here let me. You’re too drunk. I’ll help you.”
You sit in his lap. He immediately praises you with a “good girl” thinking nothing of it. His touch was so warm. If only he knew what he was doing to you.
You’re soft, so small in his lap. Much smaller than his ex wife ever was. Fuck the thought of splitting your little cunt open on his cock..no wait why is he still thinking that. He can’t think that. Not about his daughter’s friend. Why did Fuyumi have to make friends with someone so tempting?!
Enji helps take off your makeup as you sit in his lap. The way he wipes it off so soft despite being so strong was surprising. It was nice. Maybe he’s helped Fuyumi with her makeup when she’s been drunk before or maybe..a wife? Fuyumi didn’t mention a mom, does she have a mom? Oh no if you’re feeling this way about your best friend’s dad AND a married man that’s awful.
Enji finishes removing your makeup. Fuck, I really didn’t think someone could be more beautiful without makeup he thinks to himself.
“You’re just as beautiful without makeup. Now, don’t drink as much next time please. It’s bad for your health.”
He gently brushes your messy hair with his fingers after setting the makeup wipes aside. You’re too far gone and sleepy to have any more self control over your words. You drunkly say “Why didn’t Fuyumi ever tell me her dad was so hot?”
Before he can even say anything like he would anyways he’s too stunned to speak, you fall asleep in his chest. He gently lifts you up and lays you down on the spare bed. He places some blankets over you so you won’t fall cold. He stays there for a moment watching you sleep. He questions your words. Could she really find me attractive? An old man like me, I’m a pro hero yes but women only ever want me for my wealth not my looks? Maybe if I touch myself tonight thinking of her I’ll get over it. She’s probably just drunk. Yeah that’s it, she’s just drunk. She won’t even remember it tomorrow. It definitely didn’t mean anything.
When he goes to his room he’s already hard. He touches himself to the thought of you. Little did he know it would only make him want you more.
When you wake up you shower before putting on the sweatshirt again. You go downstairs to see if Fuyumi is awake yet. When you go down stairs you instantly lock eyes with Enji in the kitchen. He’s sitting down drinking coffee. Somehow he seems hotter than last night. His hair is slightly damp from a shower you want to run your fingers through it. You don’t remember anything from last night after he started to take your makeup off.
Enji “Good morning. I heard you showering and made you some coffee. Fuyumi just got in the shower she should be out shortly with some spare clothes. Your clothes are outside hanging to dry.”
You take a sip of the coffee. Your head is aching. “Thank you Mister Todoroki and thank you again for letting me stay the night.”
You expected he would have Fuyumi wash your clothes. You think it’s sweet he took the time to do that. You wonder why she never talks about her dad when he’s such a gentlemen.
Fuyumi lended you some clothes to wear shortly after. You’re a different bra size than her so that was the only thing you couldn’t share of hers. Unfortunately for Enji he would be able to see your hard nipples perfectly in that tight sweater. The second he saw them he nearly choked on his coffee. You were too nervous to look at his face much with worry you’d get too obviously flustered so you didn’t notice much his gazes. Anytime you did notice you just assumed he was observing you and Fuyumi talking like any dad would. Fuyumi on the other hand noticed exactly what her father was choking at. She assumed it was just because he was more old fashioned. After all he did always used to make Rei dress proper when they were still together. She didn’t want to embarrass you by explaining to her dad why you were without a bra especially since you didn’t seem to notice he was looking so she decided to change the subject.
Fuyumi “Um dad. Have you eaten yet? I was going to start breakfest what would you like?”
Enji “You can make whatever you wish. I have some work to do so please put it in the refrigerator. Thank you Fuyumi.”
He quickly gets up and rushes off to his office locking the door behind him. He was suppressing himself from getting hard just long enough until he left the kitchen. Why were you having this effect on him? He’s not a teenager anymore. Once again he touches himself to the thought of you. It would be so fun to fuck you on his office table. Or even have you soaking on his cock while he’s working.
While Enji is away Fuyumi takes this opportunity to give you the sex toys she mentioned last night before making breakfast.
Fuyumi giggles “While dad’s gone come up to my room let me give you some things.”
You “Oh god girl why do you have so many?”
Fuyumi “Some guys I slept with before bought me some but since i already had so many I figured you could use the ones I haven’t opened. Can’t let them go to waste. Here I’ll give you a bag to hide it in so dad doesn’t see. Have you really never used them before?”
You “No but I guess it doesn’t hurt to try. Most guys got insecure anytime I even suggested them.”
You knew exactly what you were going to think about next time you used them. Maybe once you came to Mister Todoroki you’d stop thinking about him so foully and could get under someone else.
While the two of you are eating together Fuyumi says “So what did you think of my dad I know he can be a little intimidating.”
You “Well at first i thought he looked a little scary but I think he’s sweet actually. He helped me take my makeup off last night.”
Fuyumi “Oh good! I was worried you’d get scared and never come over again.”
You “Fuyumi definitely not even if he was awful you’re still my only friend and I’d still find a way to hangout with you.”
A bit later Enji walks up to the both of you. “Whenever you’re ready to go home y/n I can drive you.”
Fuyumi “Dad I-“
Enji teases “Don’t let Fuyumi drive you home when she’s hungover she’d end up driving you to a random house or getting my car crashed.”
Fuyumi “Finee dad. Well are you ready to go home then? I can text you a few dates I was thinking we could hang out next.”
You “Okay yeah, that’s great thanks.”
Enji walks away for a moment bringing back a coat. He gently places it over you. “Alright let’s go y/n. I’ll hold your bag.” It’s one of his coats he definitely did that to see how small you’d be in something of his. It did not disappoint.
You were expecting Fuyumi to come with you even though she wasn’t going to be driving. To your surprise she stayed perfectly still enjoying whatever she was looking at on her phone. She hadn’t thought about going with you not after you told her you thought her dad was sweet. You’re just hoping more alone time with her dad can help you find one ick about him. So you can stop thinking about your best friend’s father like this.
Unfortunately the more time you spend alone with him the more charming he gets. First he asked your music preferences for the ride back. Then when he saw how small your apartment was he told you a job at his agency was always welcome. Not just so he could see you more but also so his daughter’s friend could have a good life. He knows how caring she can be about people close to her for better or for worse. Then when he saw nearly all your light bulbs were either flickering or out in your apartment he changed them all without being asked. The second he left you immediately headed straight for the sex toys. How the hell was just thinking of him getting you off more than being with an actual man. You’re definitely cutting off that new guy you’re talking too, thinking about Fuyumi’s dad having his way with you is much better.
Enji comes back from driving you home.
Fuyumi “Heyy dad y/n called you sweet. Thanks for taking care of her last night. She’s my first friend I’ve had in a while. Most of my friends were usually scared of you. I’m glad she isn’t. She’ll definitely be coming over more.”
Oh she thinks I’m sweet? Could she be thinking about me too? No. No, definitely not. She’s just being a kind young lady.
Enji “All your old friends thought I was scary?”
Fuyumi “I- oh um- sorry! It’s just, you can be intimidating but I’m not saying it’s a bad thing it’s just-“
Enji “It’s alright I’d rather them not think I’m too inviting. I don’t want people all over me like they are with Toshinori. I’m glad you have a good friend now. Although I didn’t realize that job pays most of their employees so poorly her apartment is quite small.”
Fuyumi “Is it? I haven’t been yet but she’s told me about it. My pay is good…wait..that’s not because of you is it?”
Enji “I’m sorry I-“
Fuyumi “it’s fine, thank you dad.”
Fuyumi looks over at the clothing rack “Oh are those her clothes? Are they dry yet? I’ll text her to come get them tomorrow. You could’ve asked me to wash them”
Enji “It’s alright I didn’t mind.”
Mainly because he wanted to use your panties last night. Sucking on them while he got himself off. He could wash away any evidence of his own saliva on them himself. No one would know, no one would get hurt.
Tomorrow you come over to get your clothes. You’re expecting Fuyumi but Enji answers the door.
You “Oh hi Mister Todoroki, where’s Fuyumi?”Enji “She’s out getting groceries for this week she won’t be back for a couple more hours.”
You “Oh alright. I brought Fuyumi her clothes back too.”
She just loved leaving the two of you alone didn’t she. It’s so awkward being alone after you practically came to the thought of him last night. Maybe you should’ve told her you were scared of him. His bright blue eyes nearly blind you everytime you look at them. It doesn’t help that looking at the rest of him also makes you flustered as well too.
Enji “Your clothes are laying on the bed in the spare room upstairs. Fuyumi also left out a few clothes she didn’t want anymore on the bed too. I can discard whatever you don’t want.”
You follow him upstairs to the spare room. He stands behind you giving you space to look over the clothes.
You “Thank you again for washing my clothes Mister Todoroki.”
You bend over on the bed to fold your clothes, your skirt rides up a bit. Your thong is showing. Enji was going to do the right thing and look away until he noticed it was wet. You were soaking wet. You weren’t trying to be but the more he talks, the more you’re around him, the wetter you get.
You were wet. Did he do that? He groans quietly “fuck” oh he didn’t mean to say that out loud
You turn your head around “Sorry?”
Against his better judgment he says “Your skirt is awfully short. Paired with those panties as well? I can see how wet you are that’s awfully naughty. Did you do it on purpose?”
You “No! Sir I’m sorry. I just saw Fuyumi’s text this morning and I didn’t have anything else to wear I need to do laundry. It won’t happen again.”
Is he mad at me? He talks way too sexy for being so mad.
He shouldn’t go further but he does.
Enji “Do you want to feel what it’s like to cum?”
You “Mister Todoroki- What about your wife?”
Enji “Divorced. Yes or no.”
You should be saying no but the only thing that can come out of your mouth is “Yes please.”
He pushes your stomach back down on the bed harshly. Leaving you ass up forcing you to arch your back. “Good girl” he says before he rips your thong off completely. It took such little force for him to break the fabric it makes you weak. He uses the broken fabric to tie your hands behind your back. Who knew Endeavor was so kinky?
Enji “Fuyumi would hate me if she found out can you keep that pretty mouth of yours shut?”
You “Yes sir, I won’t tell. Promise!”
He moans so loud it sends shivers down your spine. Oh? Does sir turn him on?
He pushes your back to the bed harder making you arch. He puts two fingers inside you he knows with how tight you feel on him now you wouldn’t be able to comfortably take his cock but this is enough for him today.
You gasp forgetting how to breathe. You’re drooling onto your clothes. Two of this man’s fingers are thicker and longer than any dick you’ve ever had inside you before.
Enji growls “Fuck so tight for me! Let daddy rub your pretty pussy so you can take it better okay?”
Oh fuck, he likes a lot more than just sir. You whimper at his touch. You can tell he’s doing his best to be gentle. If you could take any more you’d be on your knees begging him not to hold back. You feel closer to cumming from his voice than you ever have from anyone or anything else.
Enji “Pretty girl likes when her pussy gets rubbed? I can tell you just opened up for my fingers so nicely. They’re all the way inside now. I can feel you pulsing all over them baby. Does it feel good, does daddy make your pussy feel good?”
All you can manage to get out in response are nods and soft moans. He suddenly increases the pace he’s rubbing your clit.
Enji “Be a good girl use your words.”
You “Yes, d-daddy it feels so good. I think I’m going to- oh my god.”
Enji “That’s it cum for me sweetheart. Let go for me.”
You’ve never came so hard in your life. He doesn’t stop thrusting his fingers despite your body shaking uncontrollably. Nobody will ever be able to satisfy you after this.
Enji “Say thank you daddy”
You “Oh fuck- thank you daddy!”
Enji “Good girl”
He licks his fingers clean. “tastey”
He grabs your ass spreading you apart before kneeling on the ground below you, eating your pussy out from behind. With his deep groans and thick tongue you’re so overstimulated you feel like you could cum again. He’s eating you out like he’s starved. It only took two minutes of Enji working your folds with his tongue for you to cum all over his face. The moans he lets out while lapping up your juices sound like he’s getting high off your taste. Your only hope is that Fuyumi doesn’t come home and walk in on this.
When he’s finished he grabs a warm towel to clean you up. Then unties your hands. He puts the broken thong in his pocket. What is he going to do with it?
Enji “Next time I want you stretched out on my cock. Would you be alright with that?”
You “Yes, Mister Todoroki I would be more than okay with that.”
He grabs your phone to give you his number. he puts his contact in as the letter E. He places his phone in your hand for you to do the same.
Enji “You can call me Enji outside of the bedroom, text me if you want to feel good again.”
I might make another part but I suck at being consistent so don’t take my word for it.
Notes:
Endeavor is such a guilty pleasure I need to sort the daddy issues out but i don’t want to. I hope you guys enjoyed! Sorry I know I’m not the best at grammar or spelling I hope you still like my works regardless. Comment down below any future endeavor fic ideas you’d like to see from me in the future.
Help?
I’ve resorted back to using apple notes to write all my work ahh. I was using google docs but people I know keep getting their accounts closed for writing fan fiction it was scaring me. Do you guys know any free things I could use to write on for my work? I was thinking about maybe trying word. Not sure if it’s good! I’m really bad with computers which is why I still use my phone haha. It’s so much easier to copy and paste my work than try to figure out how to use files or whatever. I need to start writing on the computer eventually though.
#smut#bmha#endeavor#enji todoroki#fanfic#mha#endeavor x reader#enji todoroki x reader#enji x reader#my hero academia#enji todoroki smut#endeavor smut
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
B!TCH IM A MOTHER
Yah i’m back with another TWD blurb. this has plot at least. sorta. anyways no TW cause i don’t think it’s necessary but if anyone finds something i might need to put a warning for lemme know. this is first person POV tho. it was kinda hard to write in an x reader format.
{•_•}
am i a mother? absolutely i am. have i given birth to any children? well…no.
i’m not even completely sure when it started.
maybe it was at the farm. when i was fussing at daryl about taking care of himself and accepting help.
“dammit daryl when are you going to accept the fact that we care about you?! i get it, okay? seriously i do. better than anyone. it’s hard to accept love when you’ve never felt it before. but i, along with the rest of the group, don’t want you on your own anymore. please, just let us help you.” daryl just stared at me silently for a while, trying desperately to ignore the tears in his eyes. i couldn’t tell if the tears were from my words or because i yelled at him, in front of the entire group no less. but he didn’t take too long to respond. a mumbled “yes, mama,” fell from his lips, before he was walking to his separate camp to bring his belongings inside with the rest of us.
or maybe it was after the fact, when we were on the road after the barn fell.
when we had found a small river and the women were cleaning ourselves and i insisted the men let me fix their hair. glenn laughed with a mumbled, “sorry, mom,” when he splashed me with the water. i gave him a harsh flick on the back of his ear, “don’t do it again, glenn.”
or maybe it was before all of that, when we had first formed our group.
“merle dixon if you scare these children like that again i swear i’ll beat you black and blue!” the redneck knew better than to bother the children, yet he’d snuck up on them today, jumping out from behind a tree and roaring at them. he just chuckled at my comment, as if he couldn’t take me seriously. “what are you, my mother?” but his laughter quickly faded when he saw the look on my face, ducking his head and walking away silently.
anyways, whenever it began, i didn’t really mind it. the word didn’t hold any serious meaning behind it, simply used in a joking manner. until it was serious. until we were in the prison and carl came running into my cell crying every time he had a nightmare, when he would sob so hard he couldn’t breathe and i’d just shush him and hold him, rocking gently side to side. when he started mumbling “goodnight mama” or “love you mama” or “sweet dreams mama” before falling unconscious. when he’d say, “thanks mom,” when i brushed his hair every morning or when i helped him with words he didn’t know while reading or consoled him after an argument with his dad.
when i’d clean daryl’s injuries every time he got hurt on a run. and in the quiet solitude of my cell he’d let a couple silent tears fall from how gently i took care of him. and when i’d kiss his forehead and send him on his way after, he’d wipe his tears and whisper a barely audible, “thanks ma,” on his way out.
and when the people of woodbury joined the prison and carl was given the job of introducing everyone to our group. and not a single soul could remember my name, but they knew that i was mom or mama or whatever mother figure they needed me to be.
and when nights got too quiet and rick couldn’t handle the weight of the world on his shoulders, and i’d walk into his cell and he’d fall to his knees in front of me. he’d press his face into my stomach while he cried, and i’d run my fingers through his hair and whisper soft reassurances. and through his tears he’d cry, “i just can’t do it mama, it’s too much.” and i’d rock him too, and praise him gently, the same soft way i cared for his son.
and when the prison fell and the group met back together at terminus. and i was in a train cart with people i knew and people i didn’t. and when the introductions came to an end and all heads turned to me. and i was quiet for a moment until carl pointed and said “that’s mama. everyone calls her that. don’t ask her name ‘cause she’ll tell you a fake one since um b’cause she doesn’t know you.” and those that did know me nodded in agreement.
and maybe i did care, maybe the weight of the word pressed heavy on my chest because i knew i couldn’t have children of my own. but i had plenty of people to care for anyways. i had my own family. and i was a mama. whether they were mine or not.
#twd#the walking dead#daryl dixon#daryl dixon twd#carl grimes#carl grimes twd#rick grimes#rick grimes twd#merle dixon#glenn rhee#merle dixon twd
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
My mom has NPD, and I have NPD.
When my mom was a kid her mother was incredibly distant and didn’t want her to get attached to her.
Why?
Because she had breast cancer, any day she could be gone and she never got close to my mom as a result.
She insisted my mom always had to look perfect, never allowed to leave without makeup, she never comforted my mom when she was sick/very hurt, and you wanna know something? None of this was told to me by my mom. This is all coming from things my dad has told me.
When my mom brings up stories of her mother she’s always smiling and reminiscing about the women who raised her. She laughs about times she was hurt and her mom brushes it off because it’s just how it was. It made her tough and she loved her mom so much.
Her mom passed when she was 21. And after that she had a rather complicated life with relationships.
I don’t believe anything my dad told me about my grandma I never met. He never met her. And frankly, I don’t think he has the best intentions when he tells me those things.
Often when people talk about being raised by narcissists, they always talk about their trauma with abusive parents. But often it’s unlikely that the parents are even narcissist to begin with. They just use it as a label for bad people.
My mom’s not perfect, growing up she ignored me a lot because she’s just following with her mom would do. She just focused on herself. And it did hurt because I wanted my mom to love me as much as I loved her. Growing up now, I think my mom just doesn’t know how to take care of kids. Her household wasn’t perfect either growing up. It was very messy. Over time as I grew older It’s like she finally learned to let me in. As though before she was afraid that I would get too attached and then she wouldn’t be here anymore.
I love my Mom so much, she has problems managing her anger, but she always lets go. She apologizes without words. She buys me my favorite snacks or gets me trinkets I love. And for the first time in years, she started saying “I love you” back when I would say it.
Stuff like that is just hard for her because it’s not something she grew up with. My mom is the way she is because of how her parents raised her. she was distant when I was young because that’s what was normal. But now that I’m an adult, my mom hugs me, she checks on me to make sure I’m okay, she wants me to be comfortable in my skin, she makes it clear that she just wants me to be happy.
I’m just so tired of people using NPD as a scapegoat to call people terrible. Because my mom has made mistakes, but those mistakes don’t make her a bad person.
There’s a reason I chose my mom over my dad, and that’s because my mom loves me, would choose my happiness in a heartbeat.
My dad made it clear who he cares about more, but he still acts like my mom is the problem. She’s not manipulating me, she just knows how I am and that I can’t handle being alone. My mom knew for a long time that I probably wouldn’t be able to be independent, and that I’d need to be with her for most of my life. And she didn’t care. She’s made her life the way it is to care for me.
My dad just wants me to be a copy of my sister, and gets frustrated when I’m not.
My mom isn’t some monster manipulating me into being helpless dad.
I have chronic fatigue and pain that makes it so I can’t function well without help. Mom is taking care of me because she wants what’s best for me.
Stop saying she’s “broken.”
Because if her NPD makes her “broken,” then so am I.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go give my mom a hug.
#💕𝓢𝓬𝓪𝓻𝔂 𝓢𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓼💕#actually npd#npd traits#npd#npd safe#actually narcissistic#cluster b#raised by narcissists#narcissistic mother#i love my mom#npd thoughts#npd vent#cluster b safe#long post
19 notes
·
View notes