#but the website I read it on had like all the grooming things I should be doing

[all-the-things-2020]

Joel’s Pony Party

Summary: You are planning a birthday party for your six year old niece. Turns out the guy who runs the pony party place offers you more than just a pony ride.

Rating: R (some sexual content toward the end); 18+ only, please!

Word Count: 6200+

Notes: I saw a horse trailer one day with a sign reading “Joel’s Pony Party” and my mind went on from there. This is an AU where there is no outbreak and Sarah and Ellie are the same age.

Maybe this was a huge mistake, you think as you steer your car down the increasingly potholed road. Obviously, a place with horses would be outside of town, but this didn’t look like the most savory area. Still, the pictures on the website had made it look nice, so you owed it to Ashley to check it out.

It had made so much sense at the time to volunteer to plan your niece’s sixth birthday party. Your sister was still knee deep in diapers with her youngest, Ashley’s little brother Jacob. Your brother-in-law was a sweetheart but useless at this sort of thing. His idea of entertaining was buying a 24 pack of beer instead of a 6 pack and buying the name brand chips for the queso dip. No, Ashley deserved a special birthday and you were going to give it to her.

You checked the directions you’d printed out from the internet. You should be close. The road curved slightly and you saw the neatly painted sign. “Joel’s Pony Party — Birthdays and Special Occasions.” The property looked much nicer than some of the places you’d driven past. The fencing was new and the driveway was freshly graded. So far, so good.

You drove through the gate and marveled at the paddock full of ponies and a couple of horses. Some of them lifted their heads from the grass to watch you drive past. They all looked healthy and well groomed. One of the bigger ponies, a flashy black and white pinto, tossed its head and galloped along the fence line, racing your car. 

You parked in the graveled lot clearly marked “Guest Parking” and turned off the engine. A teenaged girl with an abundance of curly hair waved at you from the door of a tidy red barn. “Dad will be with you in a minute,” she called out. “You can pet the ponies if you want.”

The little pinto was trying to reach over the fence to you, so you obliged, scratching its nose and forehead. The pony smelled wonderful, like fresh hay and sunshine and that undeniable smell of horse that brought back your childhood. Trips to the pony ride at the park had been the highlight of your existence when you were five years old.

”She doesn’t have anything for you, Oreo.” The voice was slow and easy, not too deep. “Sorry, he’s a beggar. I’m Joel Miller.” The man held out his hand and you shook it. His grip was firm but gentle and his hand engulfed yours. You tried not to stare as you took in his broad shoulders and the neatly trimmed scruff on his face. A delightful combination of cowboy and businessman. 

You introduced yourself. “I have to admit, I was a little concerned after driving past some of those places down the road, but you have a beautiful property.”

Joel nodded his head. “Thank you, ma’am. Sarah and I try to keep it up to snuff.” He tilted his head toward the girl. “If she ever outgrows her horse phase, I’m in deep trouble. Can’t keep this place goin’ without her.” He looked wistful for a moment, then snapped back to business mode. “So, you’re lookin’ for a place for your niece’s birthday. Let me give you a tour.”

He led you through the barn, which was cleaner than some houses you’d been to, and showed you the party area, a covered patio with brightly painted wooden picnic tables. Beyond it was a miniature race track. “The pony path,” Joel said. “Rather than one of those mechanical hot walker contraptions, we put the kids on a pony in there and let them walk around. Me or Sarah will stand in the middle and keep the ponies moving if they get too lazy, but otherwise the kids get to be in charge.” He chuckled. “Well, as in charge as anyone can be with a pony. Got some characters.”

Joel gestured toward a large shade tree. “Here’s where we hang the piñata.” Then toward a long table under a colorful awning. “And that’s where you can put the gifts and the cake. Keeps them out of the way of the kids.” He shuffled his boots in the dust. “We have two packages: Pony Princess and Cowpoke Experience. Most boys go for cowpoke but girls are pretty evenly split. Or we can do a hybrid if you’ve got boys and girls coming.”

He pulled a brochure out of his back pocket and spread it out on one of the picnic tables. As he leaned over, his shirt strained at his shoulders and it was all you could do to keep your focus on the brochure. And his thick finger as he pointed out the options.

”Pony Princess comes with a unicorn and the piñata is a dragon. We also have a trunk of dress up clothes. Fairy wings and princess dresses and magic wands, stuff like that. The birthday girl gets to wear a crown, ‘cause she’s the princess.”

”Cowpoke Experience comes with roping lessons and the piñata is a cowboy boot. No guns, but we have cowboy hats and bandanas and leather vests for dress up. And the birthday kid wears the sheriff’s badge.”

You glanced at the prices at the bottom of the pages and nodded. Yes, this would do. And even if it was a bit more than you’d planned, you’d gladly pay it to spend more time with Joel. 

“Definitely Pony Princess for Ashley,” you said. “She’s in her Disney Princess stage right now and all her friends are into fairies and magic and everything.”

”All right, let’s get the calendar and see if we can get this scheduled for you. Sarah!”

Sarah popped out of nowhere. “Yeah, Dad?”

”Run and get the booking calendar, would you? Need to set up a party for this nice lady’s niece.”

”She seems like a good kid,” you said, desperate to make small talk so you wouldn’t gawk at the man in front of you.

”She is,” he said with a smile. “A lot like her mama was.”

”Her mother …” you didn’t know how to ask without seeming nosey.

”Passed on when Sarah was little,” Joel said softly. “It’s been  just the two of us. Well, and my brother, when he’s around. And now the horses.” He sighed. “I used to be a contractor but I messed up my back pretty good and my cousin Louis was moving to Alabama so he offered me the place. Already had a good business doing pony rides, and it was Sarah’s idea to start doing birthday parties and events. She’s gonna be a party planner or something like that when she grows up. Organized and on top of everything.” He shook his head, a soft smile on his lips. He was clearly very proud of his daughter.

Sarah dashed up with a battered leather planner in her hands. As she laid it down on the table, she pulled a pencil out of her pocket. “See,” Joel said. “Always prepared.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “It’s just common sense, Dad.” She flipped the pages to the current date. “Hope we can fit you in close to your niece’s actual birthday.”

You perused the calendar. There were two sets of handwriting, one neat and precise but masculine, the other just as neat but more exuberant. You spotted the Saturday before Ashley’s birthday. “How about this day? I see you have something at 9:00 am but maybe we can do the afternoon?”

”Perfect,” said Joel. “How’s 2 o’clock? Gives us time to clean up after the morning event and then you don’t have to provide lunch, just cake and ice cream.” He smiled and you smiled back. Cake and ice cream were included in the price of the package, but lunches and snacks were not. You’d save a bit that way.

”Sounds like a deal,” you said. “Do we need to sign a contract or anything?”

”Give me a day or two to write it up and you can come back to sign it, if that’s not too much trouble?” He fixed his chocolate brown eyes on you and for a moment you couldn’t even breath, let alone form a coherent thought.

”Um, yeah, that’d be great,” you managed to say after an awkward moment. “You can call me when it’s ready and I’ll come out as soon as I can.” You scribbled your cell phone number on the margin of the planner, along with your name.

”Much obliged,” Joel said. “Pony Princess party, 2 o’clock on Saturday the 15th.”

”And when you come back to sign the paperwork, you can meet all the ponies,” Sarah said. “You can pick out which one your niece gets to ride.” She glanced slyly at Joel. “Maybe Dad can take you out on one of the horses, if you have the right shoes.” She looked down at your tennis shoes and shook her head. Like Joel, she had on well worn cowboy boots, the working kind, not the fashionable kind.

”I might have some boots that would work,” you said. “But I haven’t been on a horse in years. Maybe we’d better leave that to the kids.”

Joel looked you up and down, which made your face heat up. “You’d look good on a horse,” he said. “I think maybe Guapo?”

Sarah nodded firmly. “Oh, yeah, Guapo would be perfect for you. He’s a real softie, good with beginners but not one of those dead to the world type they give you at rental stables.” 

“We’ll see,” you said. “I’d — I’d better be going. I have some errands to run before I head home and I’m sure you’re both busy. I’ll see you in a few days.”

”I’ll call you when I have the contract ready,” Joel said, nodding his head. If he’d been wearing a hat, he would have tipped it. “Nice to meet you.”

As you walked back toward your car, you heard Sarah giggling and Joel shushing her sternly. The kid was a pretty good wingwoman. You wondered how much a pair of real riding boots cost.

***************************************************************************

Joel called you two days later and you arranged to come by that Thursday to sign the contract and finalize the details. You rarely took time off work, so no one batted an eye when you put in for a half day of personal necessity because of an appointment. You left work and stopped off at home to change into jeans and a pair of low heeled boots. You finished off the outfit with a t-shirt that you’d gotten compliments on before. 

As you turned into the drive at Joel’s place, you saw that the way was blocked by a large blue pickup. Joel was in the bed, tossing flakes of hay over the fence into the pasture. 

“I’ll be done in a few minutes, then I’ll get outta your way,” he called out. He was wearing a dirty grey t-shirt with a couple of holes in it and his jeans were covered with dust, but he looked amazing. You didn’t mind waiting with a view like that.

”No worries,” you called back. “Do you need any help?”

”Ah, no darlin’, I’ve got this. Been bucking hay for quite a few years now.” He paused and wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his arm. “Louis’ dad, my uncle, used to have a full on cattle ranch when we were kids. Spent summers out there helping with the horses until I was thirteen.”

You got out of your car and leaned against the fender. “Must have been a dream come true for a Texas kid.”  

Joel shrugged. “It was just work. Tommy always conveniently disappeared when it was time to muck out stalls, but I covered for him.” He returned to his task, easily breaking a bale of hay into flakes and tossing them expertly over the fence, each one landing a few feet from the previous one. The horses and ponies each claimed a flake of their own, except for a few squabbles involving the tiniest pony, a chestnut with a broad white blaze on its face.

”Stop it, you little shit,” Joel yelled, shaking his head. “That li’l Sebastian is the worst. He’s actually a miniature horse, not a pony, so he can’t be ridden and he knows it. Spoiled rotten. But he’s gentle with the little kids and the ones who can’t ride or are too afraid. Gets petted and fed carrots and never does a lick of work.”

Sebastian lifted his nose and pranced toward a tall white horse. He snorted and swished his tail and the big horse reluctantly yielded its hay to the little guy. “See?” Joel said. “Guapo, just step on him.” 

The white horse sighed deeply and shook his head. Joel tossed a flake in his direction and it landed neatly in front of him. Then Joel hopped down from the truck bed. “I’ll get this ol’ beast out of the way and you can drive up to the parking area. I’ve just got to run up to the house for the paperwork, wash my hands, and I’ll be right back.”

You tried not to notice his backside as he stepped into the cab of the truck, but it was right there in front of you. He filled out a pair of jeans nicely.

You parked in the visitor lot, while Joel parked his truck off to the side. “Go on through the barn and sit at one of the tables,” he called out. “I’ll be there in a minute.” He walked quickly toward the neatly painted white ranch style house that stood behind the pasture, his gait a bit stiff. He’d mentioned hurting his back at work before starting the party business. It looked like it still bothered him. 

You sat at one of the picnic tables. It was pleasant under the patio roof, which blocked the sun but allowed a nice breeze. Whoever had designed this place knew what he was doing.

Joel hurried back with a sheaf of papers in his hand. His hands were clean but the rest of him was still dusty. There were bits of hay stuck to his shirt and in his hair. “Okay,” he said, settling down next to you. “Let’s go over the details and then get this contract signed.” 

It was hard to concentrate on the paperwork with him sitting beside you. He smelled like hay and sweat and horses and something else, maybe aftershave or deodorant that had a hint of something woodsy. Whatever it was, the entire cocktail of scents was enticing.

”So, the standard party comes with a sheet cake from Kroger and vanilla ice cream. The cake will say Happy Birthday and your niece’s name. You get to pick what color icing for the words and the border. And we put a plastic unicorn on top that she gets to keep.”

”Um, purple, she’s into purple right now.”

Joel nodded and wrote “purple” into a blank on the sheet in front of him. His handwriting was neat and precise.

”Okay, and the piñata will be a dragon, unless you want something else. No extra charge, all the piñatas are the same price.”

”Dragon is fine,” you said, distracted by a piece of hay that was lodged in the curls just above his temple. You fought the urge to reach out and remove it.

”You okay?” Joel asked. 

“Um, yeah, you just … you have some hay …” You gestured toward his head and he brushed his hand through his hair.

”Occupational hazard,” he said with a gentle laugh. “Did I get it?”

”Not quite. Do you mind …?”

He leaned toward you and you plucked the hay stem from his hair, which was silky soft. You wanted to run your fingers through it so badly, but you contented yourself with removing the hay. “There, now you look presentable,” you said.

”Thanks,” he said softly. There was a pause, charged with something that certainly wasn’t business related. He cleared his throat. “Okay, so we have games.”

You half listened as Joel went over the games and activities that would be provided. You just nodded and agreed to all the standard choices. Ashley would just be thrilled to be around ponies and dress up with her friends. And if you weren’t talking, that meant you got to listen to Joel’s voice even more.

You reached the end of the paperwork and Joel handed you the pen to sign the contract. It was still warm from his hand and you shook just a little as you wrote your signature on the dotted line.

”All done,” Joel said. His eyes swept up and down your body. “So, you ready for that ride?”

Your tongue wouldn’t move. Had he really just suggested …? 

“I mean, you wore jeans and boots, so I figured you were planning to take me up on Sarah’s offer.”

”Oh, yeah,” you said, shaking your head as the blood rushed to your face. “Sorry, I was just … yeah, a horseback ride would be wonderful.”

Joel swept the paperwork up. “Back in two jiffs,” he said. “I’ll just put this in the office and then we’ll get the horses ready.”

He ducked into a small room in the barn, then handed you a lead rope. You followed him to the pasture, where the horses were still nibbling at their hay. Joel opened the gate and walked inside, catching first the white horse, Guapo, and then a big strong looking bay horse. He took the lead rope from you and clipped it onto Guapo’s halter.

”He’s a sweetheart,” he said. “Just walk and he’ll go with you. Take him into the breezeway in the barn.”  

You were nervous. You’d never handled a horse before, but Guapo was just as gentle as Joel promised. He walked alongside you, his head bobbing with the rhythm of his hooves, which clip-clopped against the hard packed dirt and the concrete of the barn floor.

Joel soon followed with the bay horse. You watched as he tied both horses to rings set in the wall and gave them a quick brushing. Then he brought out the saddles, which he handled as if they weighed nothing. It was fascinating to watch him tack up the horses, moving gently but quickly as he got them ready for the ride. Soon they were both saddled and bridled and you started to feel nervous again.

Joel showed you how to lead Guapo by the cheek piece of his bridle. “Just walk him over to the mounting block,” he said. “He knows the drill.”

Sure enough, the white horse stood next to the set of wooden steps so that they were perfectly aligned with his saddle. Joel smiled at you as he took the reins just under Guapo’s chin. “You okay to get on by yourself?”

”I think so,” you said. “It’s been years since I rode a horse.”

”Just remember, left foot in the stirrup, then hop up and swing the right leg over.” You felt incredibly exposed as you fumbled your way into the saddle. If you hadn’t felt Joel’s eyes on you the whole time, it would have been easier.

Once you were in the saddle, Joel led Guapo forward a few steps and then took your ankle in his hand. “Slip your foot out,” he said quietly. “I need to adjust the stirrups.” He pushed your leg forward so that your foot was on Guapo’s shoulder, then tugged at the leather straps. When he was done, he grabbed your foot and put it back into the stirrup. His hands were big and strong. He nodded and then went around the other side to adjust the right stirrup. Being man-handled, even so gently, was making you very aware of your body. You shifted in the saddle, glad your jeans were thick enough to hide the dampness that was spreading through your panties.

Once Joel was satisfied that your stirrups were good, he fetched the bay horse from the barn and swung into the saddle with a grunt that made your insides clench. “I’m supposed to use the mounting block,” he said, “‘cause of my back, but just don’t tell Sarah, okay?”

You nodded. “Okay, remember, hold the reins in your left hand, just above the saddle horn. Keep your fist up, like you're gonna do a thumbs up. Steer him like using a joystick on one of those old Atari games. Move your hand to the right to go right, left to go left, back toward your belly to stop or slow down. And sit back in the saddle when you ask him to stop. All right, let’s go.”

He tapped his heels against the bay horse’s sides and they walked off. Guapo followed behind after you gave him a gentle tap. It was a different world from up on a horse’s back. You could feel Guapo’s muscles moving beneath the saddle, hear his breathing and snorts as the other horse kicked up dust in his face, and the creaking of the saddle leather. 

“Wow, this is so cool,” you said. 

“This is nothing,” Joel said over his shoulder. “This is just a pony ride. You get good enough, there’s a place down by the river where the sand is level and smooth and you can gallop. Talk about a real cowgirl experience. Ah, shit, that didn’t sound right, I’m sorry.”

You laughed. “I know what you meant. And either way, it sounds amazing.” You felt the blood rush to your face again as the words popped out of your mouth. You hadn’t meant to flirt so hard. This was technically still a business transaction, after all.

Joel laughed heartily. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?” His eyes skimmed over your body once again. “You look good on a horse. Not everyone does.”

”Thanks,” you said. “So do you.”

The trail widened out and Joel pulled his horse back so that you were riding side by side. “You know, Sarah would kill me if I didn’t take the opportunity to ask you out. After the party, of course.”

”Of course,” you said. “And she’d probably kill me if I didn’t say yes. I mean, how often does someone literally bring you a white horse?”

”Gray,” Joel said. “Guapo’s not white, he’s gray.” He shook his head. “Shit, sorry, I’m used to teaching the kids about how white horses are really rare and most of the ones you see that look white are really grays … and I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

”Yeah, but it’s adorable,” you said. “Makes me feel a little less awkward myself.”

You rode in silence for a moment. “Can I ask you something?”

”Sure,” Joel said.

”Why’s he named Guapo? I mean he’s not ugly or anything but he’s certainly not Trigger or the Black Stallion, is he?”

Joel smiled. “Louis went to the horse auction to get some ponies. Saw this fellow in the pen and he looked like hell. Skinny, had a skin rash, just messed up. Knew he’d end up with the kill buyers, so he bought him. Everyone teased him about buying an ugly horse, but his assistant, Reynaldo, stood up for him. He said ‘Don’t let them laugh at you, you’re muy guapo, my friend.’ And it turns out, after they got him cleaned up and fed and everything, they checked his lip tattoo and he’s a Thoroughbred. Ran thirty races in his career and won three. Even was in a stakes over at Sam Houston when he was three. Finished up the track, but at least he had a shot at glory.”

”Wow, you were a racehorse?” You leaned forward to pat Guapo’s neck. He flicked an ear back at you. “He’s so gentle.”

”Smart horses, Thoroughbreds,” Joel said. “King here, he’s half quarter horse, half Andalusian. Talk about smart.” He patted the bay horse on the neck. “But he needs an experienced rider. Guapo knows how to take care of a beginner. King would just take advantage of them.”

You chatted back and forth as the horses walked down the trail. Joel was relaxed, sitting his horse easily, his eyes crinkled against the sun. You could have looked at him all day. And the way his hips moved with the rhythm of King’s stride … 

Eventually, Joel glanced at his watch. “Better head back,” he said with a sigh. “Sarah will be getting home from school any minute and if she has to do more than her fair share of the barn chores I’ll get an earful.” 

He turned King around and headed back up the trail. Guapo followed suit and before you knew it, both horses were trotting, eager to get home. Joel hardly moved in his saddle, but you were jolting all over the place.

”Ouch! How do you stay sitting down when they do this?”

Joel laughed mischievously. “Well, it helps that King’s got that smooth Quarter Horse jog,” he said. “Guapo was taught two speeds: walk and run. Off track Thoroughbreds have a real rough trot. Probably should have warned you.” He reined King back to a walk and Guapo dropped back into a less bone-jolting gait as well. 

“Thought I was going to fall off for a second there,” you said. 

“You were bouncing around quite a bit,” Joel admitted, although from the look on his face, he hadn’t minded watching you jiggle. 

“You did that on purpose,” you realized. 

“Had to give you the full cowgirl experience,” he said with a wink. You had reached the narrow beginning of the trail again, and he pulled King in front of Guapo, so you only had a view of his back, but you were certain he was smirking. You didn’t mind too much, though; the view was worth any amount of teasing you had to endure. Joel Miller had a mighty fine seat.

***************************************************

Sarah was leaning smugly against the side of the barn when you rode up. “Trying to stick me with all the chores while you’re off having fun, huh, Dad?”

”If I recall, it was your idea I take her out for a ride,” he said, swinging easily off King’s back. Sarah took the reins and led the bay toward the barn. Joel came and stood next to Guapo’s shoulder. 

”You need any help getting down?”

”I think I can manage,” you said. You weren’t as graceful as he was, though, and stumbled a bit as your left foot caught in the stirrup on the way down. Joel’s hands were there to steady you.

”Kick both feet clear before you get off next time, then you won’t have that problem,” he said gently. “But otherwise, I’d give it a seven.” His hands were warm against your arms.

”Ah, geez, Mr. M, there’s kids here.”

Joel rolled his eyes. “Ellie, what the hell are you doing here?”

You both turned to see another girl leaning against the barn. She was around Sarah’s age, her brown hair pulled back in an untidy pony tail and a defiant smirk on her face.

”Sarah invited me,” she said. “Said you were making chili for dinner and you know they don’t feed me at that place.”

”That is one hundred percent grade A bullshit,” Joel said. “I know for a fact that Mrs. Morales is a great cook. She brings stuff to the PTA meetings all the time and we all fight over it.”

Ellie shrugged. “Exactly. All us kids have to fight over it, too. At least around here there’s only two other people I have to compete with.” Her eyes narrowed at you. “Maybe three, huh?”

”She’s not staying for dinner,” Joel said. “Unless you want to …?”

”Thank you, but I should probably get going. I left work early today and there’s some stuff I need to take care of before I go in tomorrow.” If it had just been him and Sarah, you would have said yes in a heartbeat. 

Sarah came back out of the barn and took Guapo’s reins. “Way to just stand there, Ellie,” she said. “You could have helped.”

”I thought I was a guest,” Ellie whined, as she followed Sarah and Guapo into the barn.

”It’s still polite to offer help,” Sarah said.

”Sorry, I wasn’t raised in a barn like some people,” Ellie replied.

Joel shook his head. “Those two. Ellie’s in foster care. Nice family but poor kid’s been bounced around so much she keeps a wall up. She likes Sarah, though. And she’d never admit it, but she loves the ponies. Caught her braiding flowers into Sebastian’s mane one day.”

He walked you back to your car. “So, I guess I’ll see you on the day of the party.” He shuffled his boots in the gravel. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” you replied. “Um, thanks again for the ride. I had a lot of fun. Although my backside might have another opinion by the time I get home.” You rubbed at the seat of your jeans.

”You and your backside are welcome any time,” he said. “And I meant it about that date after the party. We’ll go somewhere nice, I promise. You won’t have to wear jeans.”

”Anywhere is fine if it’s with you,” you said without thinking. “I mean … I’m not fussy. I don’t expect a first date to be …”

Joel ducked his head and smiled. “I hear ya,” he said. “I just want it to be special because I think you’re pretty special. I mean, doing all this for your niece … you’re a good aunt.”

”Just kiss her already,” Ellie yelled from the barn. “There’s barn chores to do, Mr. M!”

Joel shook his head. “I swear, if that kid hadn’t already had such a rough life …” He leaned forward and kissed you on the cheek. “That’s an IOU for a real kiss. Once you’re no longer a customer.”

”I expect full payment on that,” you said. “I’ll see you at the party.”

You got into your car and pulled out. Joel stood watching you drive away and you got butterflies in your stomach. Maybe this whole party thing was turning out to be more of a present for yourself than for Ashley.

*************************************************************

The morning of the party was pure chaos. Ashley couldn’t decide which princess dress to wear, the baby was fussy, your brother-in-law had a cold and was sneezing his head off, and your sister was about ready to break down in tears.

”I’ve got this,” you said as soon as you arrived at their house. “Ashley, why don’t you wear the purple dress? It’ll match your cake. And you can wear your jeans underneath so it’ll be more comfortable riding the ponies.” You took Jacob and started to bounce him up and down. “Sis, go get yourself ready.” You turned to your brother-in-law. “And you, go take a dose of DayQuil and then sit down and rest.”

Eventually, everyone was in the minivan and ready to go. You volunteered to drive, since you knew the way. Your sister sat in the passenger seat beside you.

”Thank you again for planning all this,” she said. “I know it was a lot of work, but Ashley is so excited to ride the ponies.”

”Well, it wasn’t all that hard,” you admitted. “Joel’s got a really nice set up and he took care of all the details. All I have to do is show up and pay the bill.”

”You like him, don’t you? I can tell by the way your face lights up when you talk about him. And you’ve been talking about him an awful lot for someone you’re doing business with.” She winked.

”I do like him,” you said. “We’re going to go out soon. After the party is over, when I’m not a client anymore.”

”Good for you. You deserve it.”

You were the first car to arrive, which made you sigh with relief. Sarah waved at you from the barn. “Welcome! Is this the birthday girl?”

”It is,” you said, leading Ashley over while your sister and brother-in-law got Jacob out of his car seat. “Ashley, this is Sarah. Her daddy owns this place.”

”Lady Sarah Miller at your service, Your Majesty,” Sarah said with a curtsy. “You’re the princess today, so let’s get your crown!” 

She led you through the barn and both you and Ashley gasped when you saw the party area. There were pink and purple streamers and balloons hanging from the roof and every table had a runner of white butcher paper and several small buckets of crayons. A big gold painted armchair sat at the end of the table closest to the gift table. It was draped with purple cloth and a glittery plastic crown sat on a purple cushion.

”This is your throne,” Sarah said. “Because it’s your special day and you’re the princess, you get to sit in the best seat in the house.” She helped Ashley put on the crown and secure it to her hair with bobby pins. 

“And now, before your guests arrive, let’s meet your unicorn!”

Joel appeared, leading a white pony with a golden horn attached to its forehead. Its mane had been dyed all the colors of the rainbow. “This is Alabaster,” he said gently, crouching down to Ashley’s level. “She’s a very special unicorn and she only comes to visit the farm on days when there’s a princess here. So we’re lucky you came.”

Ashley fell in love with Alabaster and immediately started petting her. Sarah showed her how to offer carrots on a flat palm so that Alabaster couldn’t accidentally nip her. “Unicorns love carrots,” Sarah said. “They’re like candy to them, so sometimes they get a little bit greedy, just like we do. So we have to be careful they don’t hurt us with their magical teeth.”

You turned to Joel. “This is beautiful,” you said. “She’s going to remember this day for the rest of her life. Thank you.”

”Just doin’ my job,” Joel said. “Although we did throw in a few extra touches special for Ashley. And there’s one more surprise just for you.” He gestured for you to follow him. Around the side of the barn stood Guapo, his mane braided with flowers and a silvery unicorn horn parting his forelock. “Sarah and Ellie thought you might enjoy a unicorn of your own. Ellie did the mane, believe it or not.”

“Oh, Joel, he’s … he’s beautiful.” You stroked Guapo’s face. The gelding looked a bit embarrassed to be all gussied up, but he leaned into your hand. “But you know a real unicorn can only be tamed by a maiden fair. And it’s been a long time since I was a maiden, if you know what I mean.”

Joel grinned. “Well, Guapo’s a special kind of unicorn. He doesn’t care about all that. He just looks for a woman who’s pure of heart, the kind of woman who would go to great lengths to give her niece a special birthday.”  He laid his hand on Guapo’s face, his fingers just brushing against yours. “And as his human sponsor, I for one have no use for fair maidens.” His voice lowered. “I like my ladies a bit more experienced.”

”Oh, I know how to ride,” you said. “Guapo can tell you that.”

“Well, there’s a difference between what Guapo and I expect on a ride,” he said. “But we can talk about that later. Right now, we’ve got a pony party to put on!”

********************************************************************

”Damn, girl, you weren’t kidding when you said you knew how to ride,” Joel said, his hands digging into your hips. You were straddling him, his cock buried deep within you, chasing your second orgasm of the night. 

“Helps if you have a good mount,” you said. “One who’s well trained, knows what he’s doing, and listens to your cues.” You worked your hips against him, inching ever closer to a climax.

Joel bucked under you. “Helps the mount if the rider is good,” he panted. “Gotta work as a team.”

You’d had dinner at a local Italian restaurant and then had gone back to his place. Sarah was spending the night with a friend, so you had the whole house to yourselves. 

Your body stiffened as you tipped over the edge, and Joel soon followed you, giving one final thrust as he spent himself inside you. “Hot damn,” he said, as you slid off of him, careful not to disturb the condom. “I don’t normally do this on a first date, you know.”

You flopped down beside him. “Neither do I,” you said. “But with Sarah out of the house it was too good an opportunity to pass up, don’t you think?”

He disposed of the condom and brought a washcloth from the bathroom. After you had cleaned yourselves up, he gently held your chin. “I like you,” he said seriously. “Sarah likes you. The horses like you. I think … maybe we can make this work.”

”So do I,” you said. “I want to try, as least.”

”Guapo’s a good judge of character,” he said.

”Unicorns usually are.”

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #horses #ponies #unicorns #the last of us AU

[toaster-trash]

idk about you but I love getting my opinions on one of the titans of English literature from a barely post-pubescent 20-something child on tumblr, a website famous for having users with great reading comprehension, critical thinking and no impulse whatsoever to fall into purity culture nonsense at the drop of a hat. I also love the English courts of law, and anti-sodomy laws, and I immediately and uncritically trust them when they accuse a gay man of being a pedophile. There is nothing wrong, childish or immature about this and I don't need to grow up

PURITY CULTURE??? PURITY CULTURE?????? Oh my bad folks I didn’t realise grooming 16 year old boys as a 30-something year old man was just rebelling against purity culture. And for your information, I’ve done plenty of research into anti-sodomy laws at the time of Wilde’s trials, and I’ve also read multiple sources of shorthand translations of the proceedings of the trials themselves, and anyone with two brain cells could tell that the way Wilde spoke wasn’t the way an innocent man would speak, and the evidence compiled against him was overwhelming, regardless of any bias the court may have had. True, the bias in question is fair to bring up and discuss, but it doesn’t negate his extremely likely guilt. It’s extremely unlikely that the man was innocent, from the evidence itself to Wilde’s tone during his “defence”.

Some sources:

The Trial of Oscar Wilde: From the Shorthand Reports (1906)

“In 1895, the playwright and wit Oscar Wilde (1854-1900) was prosecuted for 'acts of gross indecency' with other men. Parts of his trial were covered in newspapers of the day, but because of British censorship laws, this fuller account was not published in English until 1906.”

–The British Library official website (bl.uk)

famous-trials.com, compiled by Professor Douglas O’Linder from UMKC School of Law, mostly aligning with the shorthand translations of the testimonies from the prior source referenced yet with a few details not included in the 1906 publication to my knowledge.

https://www.famous-trials.com/wilde/327-home

Of course, everything has drawbacks, everything has a grain of salt, not everything is fullproof, there’s room for argument everywhere and of course the two sources I linked there aren’t fully enough for a big picture, and context of the time, surrounding impact, further accounts etc should all be looked into — however, in weighing up the evidence and legitimacy of sources and conflating information on all sides, personally I’m ridiculously extremely confident that Wilde was guilty, and I think the fact that this isn’t really widespread historical information is ridiculous.

You’re right, you shouldn’t take things you see on Tumblr as full proof undisputed fact. You’re right, Tumblr is a hellhole a lot of the time for misinformation and bad literary comprehension and analysis. But that doesn’t mean anything you see anywhere is objectively wrong, and you should do a small molecule of proper research and critical thinking from seeing those posts before spouting bullshit.

And for your information, I’m both queer and Irish myself and shockingly the fact that one of the major idealised queer figures for my country is a rich 19th-century-Narcissus pedophile creep, and nobody says jack shit about it, makes me pretty fucking pissed! Surprisingly!

“Purity culture” catch yourself on lad what in the fresh fuck are you on about. I’m in the age range for the wee boys Wilde fucked, surprisingly if I heard one of my friends was meeting with and having sex with some rich fuck old enough to be their da I’d be pretty fucking concerned I’d be calling cps bro 💀🙏

#oscar wilde #asks #gothic lit #classic literature #gothic literature #classic lit #the picture of dorian gray #dorian gray

[jujumin-translates]

Event | Bridegroom Battle Royale AGAIN | Chapter 4

The groom training continues up until the day of the event.

Banri: Hm? What’s up, Azami?

Azami: Shift and Haruto-san are going to be participating in the “Bridegroom Battle Royale” too.

Tsumugi: Eh, really? What a coincidence.

Director: Those two are used to the GOD-za levels of fan service, so they’re both probably really good at winning over the hearts of women…

Director: Sounds like we’re going to have some good competition for the “Bridegroom Battle Royale”.

Sakuya: That’s true. They could even possibly win the whole thing…

Masumi: I don’t care if they’re GOD-za or not. I’m not going to lose.

Azami: I don’t wanna lose to Shift, so we gotta train even harder.

Misumi: Well then, which training should we do next~?

Banri: Like Sakyo-san said, they could be entirely different challenges from last time, so might as well do whatever we can think of.

Tsumugi: That would make sense. Other challenges that might come up, something like…

Director: (They’re all so positive about the groom training, and motivated enough too. Everyone, do your best!)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Director: The play is getting better and better, so I guess let’s call it here for rehearsals today.

Director: Good work today!

Sakuya: Thank you so much!

Masumi: Good work to you too.

Misumi: Everyone, listen~! I borrowed some shoujo manga from Muku!

Sakuya: Eh, really!?

Misumi: Yeah! Muku picked out ones that might be good reference for the “Bridegroom Battle Royale”~. Let’s all read it!

Tsumugi: Thank you, it sounds like it’ll be a good learning experience.

Azami: Looks like you’ve got a whole lot.

Banri: Well then, how about we read each one by passing it on to the next person when we finish reading.

Masumi: Sure.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Omi: …Then we’ll add the seasonings and mix them in.

Tsumugi: These seasonings here, and…

Sakuya: So there’s a trick to mixing them in, huh.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Director: (Sakuya-kun and Tsumugi-san are practicing their cooking today. I don’t want to disturb them, so I’ll just stay over here.)

Misumi: Ah, Sakuya and the other guys are cooking~.

Director: Yeah, they wanted Omi-kun to teach them. By the way, all of you guys cleaned up and sorted out the stuff for recycling, right?

Misumi: Yup~!

Director: On their day off, we had Tsuzuru-kun bring his little brothers over to be taken care of, so everyone is working really hard for the “Bridegroom Battle Royale”.

Misumi: We’ve been doing a lot of things because it’s super fun to train together!

Director: We’re getting through the play for the opening ceremony and it’s going really well too.

Masumi: Director, there you are.

Director: What’s up, Masumi-kun?

Masumi: I want to practice cooking too… So I want you to teach me how to make curry.

Director: Of course, I will! Let’s get to it right away!

Masumi: I’m glad… Thanks.

Director: And since you’re here, would you like to join too, Misumi-kun?

Misumi: Nope, I’ve already decided on what I’m going to make, so it’s all good!

Director: Really?

Director: (I wonder what Misumi-kun is going to make?)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Azami: So then, Sakuya-san’s suggestion for today was doing laundry training, huh.

Banri: We do laundry on a regular basis, so It’ll be all good.

Masumi: Probably.

Sakuya: Actually, that’s why I specifically looked up something like “husband doing laundry”. Apparently, a lot of husbands think all you need to do is throw the stuff in the washing machine, hang it out to dry, and take it in, or something like that…

Sakuya: I found it on a forum with a lot of different opinions from wives.

Tsumugi: I didn’t know there were websites like that.

Sakuya: Apparently, there are…

Misumi: Hmmm…

Masumi: Uhm…

Tsumugi: But it seems like the right thing to do when someone asks you to do their laundry would be to put it in the washer, hang it out to dry, and bring it in to fold it, right?

Azami: It’d probably be helpful to read some of those opinions.

Banri: Well the, let’s get go through ‘em.

Misumi: Yeah! At this rate, we’ll get through our training in no time!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Misumi: Triangle, triangle~. Where are you, pretty triangles~?

Sakuya: La, La, Laa♪

Misumi: It’s Sakuya! Watcha doing~?

Sakuya: Ah, Misumi-san!

Sakuya: I’m practicing my singing for the “Bridegroom Battle Royale”.

Misumi: I see! Hey, hey, can I join you?

Sakuya: Of course! Let’s work hard together so we can win that vacuum for the Manager!

Misumi: Yeah!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Director: Everyone looks really nice in their tuxedos!

Banri: Thanks.

Azami: I know I’ve worn one before, but I still ain’t used to it…

Misumi: It looks like you can rent wedding dresses too~. Don’t you wanna change into one, Director-san?

Director: Eh!? Well, I’m not participating in anything, so there’s no reason for me to change.

Director: (I know I’ve worn wedding dresses before, but I’m worried the more I keep wearing them, the longer it’ll take me to get married…)

Masumi: I’m sure you’d look absolutely beautiful in it, but your wedding dress needs to be saved for a future date.

Sakuya: Anyway, I haven’t seen Haruto and the others here yet.

Tsumugi: Maybe they won’t be here for the opening ceremony.

Staff: The opening ceremony will begin shortly, so everyone please be seated.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Staff: This will now be followed by the “Bridegroom Battle Royale”, which everyone was invited to enter in advance.

Staff: Everyone, please make your way inside.

Azami: It’s go time.

Banri: Aight, let’s go.

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

#a3! #a3! translation #〚 event #sakuya sakuma #misumi ikaruga #masumi usui #tsumugi tsukioka #banri settsu #azami izumida #// so incredibly normal abt this event :)))

[mandajiu]

Taking a little break from our usual imaginary coupledom to bring you some information about the book Dilraba was reading the other day. I hope it is being read with an eye for researching Sword Rose, which has themes on human trafficking and exploitation of women and children.

Content Warning: References to rape/Intimate Assault/power and not a whole lot on racism which is just par for the course for wyt neo-liberal feminist discourse and why I'm not choosing to read the whole book.

The book in a nut-shell: Kate Manne, author of Down Girl, writes whilst pregnant with her first child. Upon discovering her expected child is of a female-assigned gender at birth, she is relieved. As the mother of both a son and daughter I had some feelings about the reasons why, but everyone is entitled to their own feelings about these things. I think raising sons and daughters is slightly different, but more the same than we ever allow it to be. They both need to be raised understanding consent and bodily autonomy and one should not be treated like more the enemy for their gender assignation, which is why I am not a huge fan of wyt neo-liberal feminists like this, but there are definitely some solid and universal themes in the book. I personally think they apply to any child, but I acknowledge one is more vulnerable to sexual assault than another and usually by someone close. Be vigilant. The most common offenders are family, family friends or someone you know. Understand grooming behavior. This is very important in parenting these days. As a certified parent coach, I have read a great deal about this. Consent Parenting is a great resource and there is another one I cannot think of started by a Black social worker with birds and bees in the title? It's a great website. I will find it.

Although it is very much a book from an American perspective on a global challenge, I would say the stuff on healthcare and reproductive rights would be completely anathema to Chinese context. Until relatively recently, Chinese media was quite open to LGBTQI+ community, but there has been a definite turn. In terms of C-Ent world, the state is essentially mandating masculinity and I believe this goes hand in hand with assigning roles to females that are quite counter to the original communist spirit of equality let's just say. I think that distribution of labor and many of the cases referenced, such as the Harvey Weinstein case, date rape without consent of an sleeping, intoxicated girl are universal.

Kate Manne ends the book with a statement that is essentially a summary of the themes; in the penultimate paragraph (my book doesn't have pages so I need to update this) she writes: "And I want my daughter to know that her own entitlements in these respects are crucially connected with some of her most important moral obligations: the obligation all of us share, regardless of our gender, to make this world one in which structural injustices are actively being rectified. Together, we must fight for a world in which girls and women are valued, cared for, and believed, within our social, legal, and medical institutions. Together, we must fight for a world in which the bodies of girls and women are not routinely controlled, sexualized, harassed, assaulted, and injured—or even destroyed altogether. Together, we must fight for a world in which every girl or woman is safe and free to be her own person, rather than consigned to be predominantly a human giver of the sex, care, and love to which privileged boys and men are tacitly deemed entitled." (the last part of the book Entitled: How Male Privilege Hurts Women).

Honestly, it's not radical enough for me, but this is just a taster and if you liked the book feel free to share why I should give it more than a quick skim.

How I would love to see an open discussion or reference to themes like misogyny, patriarchy, and intersectional privilege in a C-Drama with my favorite. It absolutely could have been explored in previous Chinese dramas but I am new to mainland dramas and also tend towards romantic/fantastical themes unless there is an actor I particularly like or storyline that looks intriguing (The Knockout and Re-Set for example). A girl can dream, right?

#Dilraba #Dilireba #迪丽热巴 #BookList

[bigger-rat]

(Pls don’t put this in the f.hr tags cause I don’t want to bring up bad memories for ppl) but I remember when things were imploding and that one group (you know the one) literally scrambling for things to make the game problematic to cover up the fact that they were just angry that the author wouldn’t cater to them and agree with their bullshit shipping discourse (they’re all self proclaimed ‘antis’ whatever that means and the author didn’t understand what that was and when the author didn’t blindly agree with it and take a position in the bullshit shipping discourse they all turned on them, they might try to cover and say that they don’t like the game or creator anymore for a different reason that doesn’t sound as stupid but THATs literally the base of why the fandom implosion happened. Because of bullshit shipping discourse agshjd)

BUT anyway the funniest thing they tried to claim was that sidestep, the 30 year old MC, was grooming Herald… a 25 year old man going on 26. Do you remember that?? Am I going crazy?? They definitely tried to claim that aghdjd god I’m dying laughing right now while remembering this. They were so desperate

I won’t lie I am forever bitter at them because they sent the author tons of death threats and hate mail & then acted like the author had some sort of responsibility towards them (the entitlement from them was and still is crazyyy) when the author was also sick w covid and had job and financial insecurity due to covid complications and *god forbid* didn’t want to and probably couldn’t physically handle their fandom wank, and then they acted like the author was the Literal Devil for taking care of themselves

Everything honestly has a silver lining though because the writing quality has just absolutely skyrocketed since the authors time on tumblr, and I feel like without that much needed break that the author took due to all the stress that book 2 wouldn’t have been nearly as good as it is now. The author also appears to be thriving now, which is awesome. Sometimes we need a painful journey to have a happy ending :D

(Sorry to vomit in your inbox like this lmfao)

No lol you're right and you should say it.

What they did to Malin was VILE. They were nothing but kind to the community, they appreciated every piece of fanart people made, were active in the community, they let us play bits of book 2 long before it was out. And these rabid fans literally bullied them out of the fandom.

The author shouldn't have so publicly do things for a specific few friends IMO, not because it's inherently bad but because everyone is insane on this website and that was a ticking time bomb.

And then, god forbid, someone came up with a compelling but problematic sidestep/herald ship (COUGH smute COUGH), and the author liked it, and how DARE they like a problematic relationship in a story about a LITERAL FUCKING VILLAIN. The pearl-clutching is unimaginable.

I don't remember people saying that Herald is being groomed lol but I do remember people going off on power dynamics and how it's an abusive relationship and like. Yes, the romantic relationship in the game where you invade people's minds and also constantly beat your friends/lovers into a bloody pulp are.. a little problematic! Grow the fuck up and go watch steven universe or something.

Imagine reading a book about a literal SUPER VILLAIN and being shocked that they're a bad person who has toxic relationships. Just fucking imagine that. The book in which you routinely kidnap people's bodies without their consent and invade their minds? Problematic?? Wooow.

I'm sad that Malin got chased out of the community but I hope they can sleep better now that they, a 40-50 year old person with a job and a life, don't have to navigate the kindergarten drama of some terminally online zoomers and their shitty shipping fantasies.

[calvin-af-crone]

I'm not the other anon, but you do realize that these fact checking websites are also paid very well by the very people trying to push their agendas... right? You couldn't have possibly gone through all those years of life taking every single thing the government tells you at face value, right? If so, I am sorry for you. You should look up the hashtag "vaccineinjured" and also take a look at the doctors who chose to leave their careers instead of lying to patients. He made the right choice.

Golly, you sure sound like the same person. You're just as patronizing. I can't argue w/ you so I'm just gonna tell you what happened to my late husband's daughter, her husband, & her husband's father. All of them were Fox "News" viewers, convinced the pandemic was a hoax OR a Chinese plot & the vaccines were gonna implant GPS devices more accurate than the ones they all carry in their phones OR getting vaxxed would slowly kill them. They refused to wear masks & went about their lives as usual. Until the father—who is our age—got Covid, ended up in the hospital & nearly died.

No problem. They amended their delusions to allow for Covid being real & started wearing masks. But, the vaccine was still a evil plot. The father partially recovered & believing he was now immune went on w/ his life as usual.

Then the husband went to a wedding where he was the only one wearing a mask. The Bride had been vaccinated but the Groom had not. It was a super-spreader event & half the guests got Covid. The Bride survived. The Groom died along w/ a quarter of the other guests who got infected at his wedding.

Their direct experience caused them to shift away from their beliefs & they were discussing maybe getting vaxxed after all when the father caught Covid AGAIN & ended up back in the hospital. His second bout was far worse than the first. Before they intubated him, he gasped out a last message to his family on Facebook—

"Get vaxxed." Then, they all got vaxxed.

The vaccines never promised to keep you from getting sick from a rapidly mutating virus. But, the Moderna vaccine has been 93% effective in preventing hospitalization & DEATH. Ya'know, it's one thing for me to chose not get an annual flu shot because I personally had bad reactions. If I get an ordinary flu, I will survive.

But risking death or long-term disability over the notion there has been a massive conspiracy among competing science research labs in countries around the world to create a vaccine that does more harm than good is absurd. None of this occurred because of some monolithic "government". Thousands of individuals acted in good faith to save people from suffering death. And you don't trust them to want to save themselves & their families!

My husband & I—because of our age & infirmities—were among the first people in the US to get vaccinated. My husband did his research & decided Moderna was the best bet. That was what our county health dept offered & we got our first dose in January 2021. At the time, we felt a bit brave & willing to be guinea pigs for the sake of our children & grandchildren. We read the CDC Guidelines & accordingly wore masks & avoided crowds.

EXCEPT, after being triple-vaxxed, I flew across the country & returned home after passing thru 4 airports TWICE. I slept fitfully in a Dallas airport overnight wearing only a cloth mask AND DIDN'T CATCH COVID!

EXCEPT, the first month my husband was in a nursing home because he was dying, the facility had an outbreak of Covid & he tested positive. He got over it in a few days w/ symptoms no worse than a sinus infection. He recovered & joked about being invincible. But he went in w/ COPD & Congestive Heart Failure & those conditions are what finally killed him 6 weeks later.

You won't convince me the Moderna vaccine doesn't work & I've probably wasted my time trying to convince you to reconsider your position. Ah well...

THIS IS THE END OF THAT TOPIC.

[genderconfusedasheck]

just thinking about things.

get sexually assaulted by my female cousin. i wrote about it in a diary i was gifted. instead of going "huh. why is this younger elementary school child talking about their older cousin touching them. maybe we can talk to both of them and figure out what happened" instead i was placed on punishment, i was demonized, and my mother made it a point for me to start looking towards god more.

they ended up being very shocked when the sexually assaulted child that did not receive any form of therapy or comfort or even as much as an explanation why it was bad began exhibiting that behavior to other children in the neighborhood. it only happened twice. one was initiated by another girl and i wrote about it in my diary. my parents read it and i got in trouble. i was no longer allowed to hang out with her, and she moved away suddenly and never came back. the other, i happened to stumble across and got pulled into. the girl who roped me in decided to use this as leverage to hang out with her. when i didn't want to play, she would go "you should or else ill tell your mom what youve been doing" and one day i said i had enough. i was tired of being afraid. i hid under my blankets as she constantly rang my doorbell, until my parents opened the door and she told them how i was touching her. i was beat and then had to apologize.

all of this happened from ages 7-12

middle school rolls around and i join this website called ponysquare. get groomed online. i had never had a relationship with a man. i thought i was doing something good. i thought it was cool that i was 14 and 'dating' a 20 year old. when my parents found the chatlogs and what i had been googling, who got in trouble again?

16 year old me grows up a little bit, still doesnt know what grooming is, but has found out theyre ace! i tell my parents and they went from "you should not know about sex!! that is disgusting!! you wont be doing it with a girl!! you are to go to church" to ".....are you sure. that sounds made up. maybe you havent found someone yet"

and now im a 24 year old, thinking their love to women is one of perversion rather than romanticism and wondering why they at times dont feel like they should be 24

[fromthefishbowl]

To be fair about your Nicky post, relative to standards for grooming and education in the Islamic Caliphates were much much higher than what we now call Italy. Like sorry, but your boi though I love him was uneducated (not necessarily unintelligent) and dirty (baths? regularly? it's less likely than you think). I'm not saying this because I think people should hate on Nicky, but if you can't acknowledge the flaws of a character you can't appreciate them deeply

Yeah... absolutely not.

In this fandom there seems to be a huge lack of reading comprehension skills and an even worse understanding of history, especially when it regards Nicky’s. You’d think that all of this is only a Google search away, but apparently even that is asking too much.

I’m going to put this in the fandom tag solely for educational purposes, so I’m going to try to include as much information as possible, even if I doubt that the people who like this idea of Nicky being a feral, unwashed, illiterate mess will be able to remember anything of what is going to follow.

Dirty:

Genoa was one of the main producers of soap in Europe, during the Middle Ages.

And, for fuck’s sake, people weren’t dirty! They washed themselves, they washed their clothes!

If they didn’t have the strength to go to the well every night and heat up enough water for a bath, they would put some clean water in a basin and wash themselves with a cloth. People would wash their faces and hands before eating each meal. If they had guests, the first thing they would do was offer them a warm bath.

The idea that people in the Middle Ages didn’t wash ever comes from later on, in the Renaissance and was then consolidated in that wonderful period of time that came before the French Revolution, with Hollywood that later on fucked it up for all of us that like historically accurate stories.

UNEDUCATED:

Nicky was canonically a priest. Even if the Middle Ages saw a horrible decay of education level after the heights reached during the Roman Empire, priests were still in charge of keeping people somewhat educated, to the point that small schools were founded right beside the churches, so that priests could easily go from one place to the other.

Men who wanted to go into priesthood would go through classes of Latin, Math, reading and writing, and basic knowledge of Christian writers and sacred texts, as otherwise they would’ve been completely useless and would’ve been nothing but a burden for the others.

Although the classes weren’t particularly advanced, they were still structured in a way that allowed the boys who had begun studying at seven/eight to become priests to, once they turned eighteen and finished their education, choose other careers.

In 825, two whole centuries before Nicky’s birth, King Lothair built a system of schools throughout the entire peninsula, schools that would teach today’s STEMs as well as liberal arts.

If this wasn’t enough, there is a huge possibility that Nicky came from a rich family, as it was custom to send the second born son (and all the ones that came after him) into priesthood so that they wouldn’t be threats to the life and interests of the firstborn. Rich families raised said second born sons to be perfect priests, academics who could excel both within the church and in the family affairs in case the firstborn died.

Nicky most definitely knew how to read, write, do sums, would be able to speak at least three languages (Genoese, Latin, and Greek, with the latter two learned solely because he was a priest), and had a wide knowledge of the Bible and other texts in the latter two languages. Considering that he probably lived in a monastery too, his knowledge extended to agriculture too, as monasteries were self-sufficient.

The fact that you had absolutely no idea of any of this makes Middle Ages Nicky far more educated than you, and the fact that then you tried to school me on it without knowing what the hell you were talking about makes it even worse.

Stop trying to learn history through Tik Toks and this hellhole of a platform: the internet can offer you a thousand more legitimate websites that won’t make you look like an idiot.

#fishie answers #anon #the old guard #tog discourse #nicky di genova

[butterflyinthewell]

An observation.

I see a pattern from people who aren’t quite antis saying something along the lines of:

They’re upset at adults showing up in fandoms aimed at kids (ie My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic) and posting adult content (whether it’s problematic relationships or p0rn), and I think that can be a valid argument if the place they’re posting has absolutely no way to filter the adult content from kid safe stuff.

I know that was a problem in the 90s and early 2000s when all a website owner could do was require a rating on any works you sent in, or creating pages for adult stuff and pages for minors, and maybe pages run by minors had a rule of “nothing that rates over PG-13 / teen”. I can’t say how it worked on mailing lists or a BBS because I didn’t get online till my teens in the mid-90s.

But I remember when yaoi / slash content had to be hidden, usually where you had to read a message and click on the right spot in the message, and I remember that some anime had “lemon” used to warn for adult content.

That said, I would agree that it’s upsetting to see unfiltered adult content mixed into (or even overtaking) content meant for kids so much that kids can’t safely go there anymore without seeing it.

So a lot of the arguments boil down to “tag your content properly with proper ratings and warnings and don’t post it in places meant for kids” which is perfectly valid and reasonable to me. I wouldn’t post Power Rangers smut on an official Power Rangers site, I’d go to AO3 for that.

The problem is antis are taking those arguments and claiming it was their argument all along, and they’re acting like everywhere they go is supposed to be safe and sanitary for kids and “omg the pedos are invading everything and trying to groom us”. They scream that all content they hate should cease to exist as they barge into sites made to host filterable adult content and they won’t lift a finger to filter it, or they go to sites for adults only and cry that they saw something naughty.

Furthermore, antis claim adults have no self control if they see something sexually taboo in fiction, yet antis are the ones who conduct themselves like they’re the reason weird warnings like “do not use while bathing or sleeping” exist on handheld blow dryers.

I feel like it’s a very insidious form of gaslighting they’re trying to sneak into the argument, and it’s hard to separate them from the people who saw stuff they weren’t ready for at a young age and legit want to protect kids from the same thing without forcing censorship.

#fandom discourse #shipping discourse #fandom antis #censorship #proshippers #antianti #Tay don’t look

[ethrenisnotthehero]

@hogwartsmystory is a predator (final)

If you haven’t read the other parts of this callout, I encourage you to start here. As in both previous posts, the normal tags are not included in order to allow this to reach as many people as possible. Potential triggers are listed below, and the main content is hidden to keep sensitive individuals from being unintentionally exposed.

TW: Pedophilia, Abuse, Gaslighting, Sexual Assault, Self Harm, Suicide, NSFW Topics, Faked Illness, Faked Mental Illness, Faked Death, Victim Blaming

Originally, I intended to craft this final part to you, the reader, as an emotional appeal. To be wholly honest, there’s only so much evidence that can be utilized without either forcing Jill to relive unnecessary trauma or exposing deeply intimate or personal parts of her life. Until now, everything I’ve told you and everything I’ve shown you is what was enough to convince me when Jill first reached out to me. If you, the reader, don’t believe the factual information that’s been presented so far, then I don’t think that you will. If you, the reader, believe Jill and her story, then no further evidence is going to magically make her story more true.

However, I don’t have to. Instead, I can let the friends-- the family--that Ren created on his website speak for themselves, and show you with their own testimony just the kind of person he was. Jill wasn’t the only person that Ren hurt. Jill wasn’t even the only person Ren preyed on as a sexual predator. Many people on staff, and many people outside of it, knew Ren and grew to have what they thought was a close relationship with him. People regarded him as someone to look up to, to find comfort in, to aspire after, to lean on; people thought of him as a friend and a hero in his community.

On April 12, 2021, at 9:57 AM Greenwhich Mean Time, the current administrators of Advanced Scribes issued a statement addressing Ren’s actions and his faked death. An additional announcement was made the following day. While the announcements themselves and the replies (including moderator statements) are publicly available, I have saved a print-to-PDF versions on Google for you to browse at your leisure. 

I intentionally waited until the initial panic and outrage died out a little to let the most important statements come to light. Included in the PDF are sentiments that I personally thought were the most important sentiments; edits have been made and pages have been deleted, so you can see the current state of the conversations by visiting them directly. You can find the first discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42100#p1454263 and the second discussion at https://advanced-scribes.com/viewtopic.php?f=13&t=42107#p1454361.

Before you continue reading, please look over the statements and replies. The words of former staff former friends say more than I can ever hope to about Ren and the kind of reality that he stood for. Additionally, Jill herself has added to the conversation (username Rakuen), so you can read a bit from her perspective by looking into these announcements. After you’ve taken a look, continue below and I will sum up my final thoughts on this predator and his legacy.

Advanced Scribes • Our Statement (PDF)

Advanced Scribes • Change (PDF)

The Act of Grooming, Part 3: Entrapment

One of the reasons that predators get away with their crimes for so long is because they trap their victims. When they gain access to and successfully lure in their prey, they then engage in entrapment behavior to separate victims from other people and build reliance. The reason why kids are so prone to predation is because of how vulnerable they are. Young people just want to belong. They just want to have community, security, and affection. When they can’t get those things in their lives, they seek it out and take it where they can get it even when the situation is obviously bad. Kids can’t be held accountable for being smart because they’re kids. Jill was vulnerable. She wanted belonging and support. She fell into Ren’s lures, and he trapped her. He used his affection as a tool to solicit sexual favors and pictures from her, but never shared his face with her. She was always chasing his love, and all the while he was simultaneously preying on other individuals in the community. For God’s sake, this man had a selfie thread where underage girls would send pictures of themselves publicly on the site for him to look at, and he even intentionally disabled the website’s COPPA features.

Before Jill, there was Buttercup. Buttercup was also an admin, and she was also 13 when she met Ren. While Ren was a minor during he and Buttercup’s relationship, his behavior with her was just as predatory and Buttercup attempted to warn Jill via PM before she ended her relationship with him.

The picture he sent Buttercup wasn’t even him.

The entire time that Ren was convincing Jill that Buttercup was evil, and jealous, and a spiteful, hateful person, he was manipulating her the same way he was manipulating Jill. Ren is a predator who knows what he’s doing; he always has. He draws in his victims and makes everyone hate them so that he’s the only person they have. He makes them so desperate for his approval that they let him screw them over time and time again, and for what? Just to see his face. Think about what you read. He didn’t just do this to Jill and Buttercup. He did this to every person he cheated with or got close enough to get a grip on. Even if he didn’t sexually exploit someone, he emotionally did. An entire community of people suffered through this over and over and over again. Read the statements again. If you only read the live version, read the PDF. 

I also want you to bear in mind that everyone on staff was equally a victim as they were an enabler. It doesn’t erase their responsibility, but their roles in this story or more nuanced than “moderator bad, burn the witch!” Some of Ren’s supporters were as young or younger than Jill when they met him. The two people most notorious for standing at his side right now were both “rewarded” with a relationship with him in the fallout of his faked death.  

At some point, this man looked at his behavior and not only decided that he didn’t need to take responsibility, but that his victims daring to try and claim some kind of ownership over their own story was a personal affront to him. 

Ren is a monster of his own creation. He chose to be that monster again, and again, and again.

What makes his enablers equally to blame is when they became adults and made a conscious choice to ignore what was happening, which brings us to the next topic.

Finally... How Old Was Jill?

Despite everything I’ve said and shared so far, I still get this question in my inbox.

How old was Jill? Did she lie about her age? Is she free of guilt because she was a kid? Did he know how old she was? Was she legal in her country?

I gave you all everything I had. There were some things I just couldn’t confirm because there was no proof either way. However, all of that changed when the announcements were released. I now know exactly how old Jill was when they began dating, exactly how old she was when people knew about their relationship, and even that Ren was public with all of this information. I also know that staff knew everything, and chose to do nothing.

As you can see in the screenshots above of Buttercup’s message, it was sent on Jun 17, 2015. At that time, Jill was 14 years old. By Buttercup’s estimation, they had been dating for around a few months, which is how I was able to discern the previous exact age of 14 years old at the time they began dating.

However, Ren himself refutes that fact in a Valentine’s post for Jill. As pointed out in the “Our Statement” thread, the post that user amnesia. references includes very sexual and disgustingly graphic descriptions of Ren’s activity with her. It also says this:

As per the timestamp of this particular post (as seen below), Jill was 16 at the time. Ren, a man claiming to be twenty-five years old at the time, was proud to admit that he had been with Jill since she was 13.

You can view the full PDF of this post to see what else he said here, but please be warned that his descriptions are NSFW and absolutely disgusting. 

Warm Fuzzies Post (PDF)

No adult should talk about a kid like that. In the statements, several staff members admit that they knew that the two were dating when she was 16, and that it grossed them out. But none of them did anything. To amnesia.’s credit, they claim they tried to pursue legal action but found no viable routes. 

From the discussions and statements, we can discern five things:

1. Jill was 13 when she started dating Ren. 2. She did not lie about her age. 3. Ren did not lie about her age. 4. Ren knew how old she was. 5. Staff knew how old she was.

Jill’s feelings and her opinions on staff and their behavior are separate from my own. She does not share my beliefs here, and I need to make it very clear that what I’m saying next is entirely my own opinion.

To everyone who was staff at that time: shame on you. It’s one thing to be a victim yourself and to not understand how or when to stand up for what’s right, especially when you’re young; it’s another to become an adult and to have let something like this permeate your legacy and your community for all this time. From what I understand, none of you are completely innocent in this. Ren wasn’t secret, he was loud and proud and he didn’t give a shit what anyone thought. Everyone who was an adult then and is an adult now shares some responsibility for that. Those of you who mean your apologies, thank you, but those of you who are using this event as a stepping stone to make that website into your own personal playground know who you are. Stop. There’s an entire generation of kids between AS and CS who have lost years of their childhoods to this shit and the only right thing at this point would be to turn the site over to the police so that Ren can answer for his crimes the right way.

To everyone else: protect the people around you. People like Ren don’t think about how other people think or feel. They don’t care who gets hurt or who they trample under their feet. Look around at your community, and ask yourself if those who interact with you know that you are safe. Inevitably, someone is going to get hurt. Are you the kind of person that they can come to when it happens, or are you the kind of person who will turn your head away? 

Be the person that everyone knows they can come to, because, eventually, someone’s going to need you.

#ethren is not the hero #ethren whitecross #ethren #chicken smoothie #chickensmoothie #harry potter #hphm #hphl #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts legacy #aaron #aaron strider #strider #advanced scribes #advanced-scribes #skyren #captured hearts #aven #lucian

[delicioussshame]

Posting next part of sugar AU before going to bed; we’ll see if I still hate it tomorrow.

Luo Binghe had always hoped for this, had always known he’d have it some day, but all his waiting couldn’t prepare him for how happy having Shen-laoshi makes him.

It does make his mornings even harder. He had grown to resent Shen-laoshi’s tendency to rise late, but now that waking him up with wandering hands or a ravenous mouth could be on the table, it’s even worse. Luo Binghe would love to start his day with the taste of Shen Yuan lingering in his mouth and his moans fresh in his mind. Sadly, Shen Yuan doesn’t quite approve. The one time Luo Binghe tried, Shen Yuan had barely managed to keep his eyes open for a few seconds before falling back to sleep. Really, how had he managed to go to work like this?

By suffering from chronic lack of sleep. The lifestyle definitely hadn’t suited him. His current situation is just so much better in every way. Luo Binghe will certainly relish watching students return to class, knowing his laoshi won’t be accompanying them.

Not for now, at least. He’s not quite sure what Shen Yuan is planning for his own future. He doesn’t think his teacher has accepted him fully yet. Shen-laoshi is probably still thinking things through, considering whether to look for another job or returning to school.

Since Luo Binghe himself now has Shen Yuan in his house, in his bed and away from the high school he refuses to call his, he finds himself willing to be patient on this particular aspect. He will, instead, focus his campaign on another, probably more delicate, front. “The literature division is holding its executive retreat in two weeks. I’m expected to show up for a formal dinner.”

Shen Yuan lifts his eyes from the book he’s reading and winces. “I’m sorry Binghe has to deal with this.”

Shen-laoshi, thank you for the hook. “It would be much easier if Shen-laoshi were to accompany me.”

“No it wouldn’t. The pain of trying to explain away my presence would far outweigh its benefits.”

“What is there to explain? Executives are allowed to bring their significant other. So would I.”

Shen Yuan returns to his book. “Very funny.”

There is nothing funny with his request? “How is it funny?”

“Like Binghe could introduce me as his significant other.”

“Why not?”

Shen Yuan puts the book down on the table and gives him an incredulous look. “Do you want to tear your reputation to shreds? I don’t have anything against you being attracted to men, but I’m not the majority. It will hurt your business, and by extension, your employees’ livelihood. Not to mention any chance of me working in education ever again. It’s unfair, I know, but Binghe cannot make his preference public.”

Luo Binghe blinks, confused. “I don’t care about any of this? My first priority will always be Laoshi. Why would I care about how he affects the conglomerate? As long as it still generates enough money to support Shen-laoshi as he should be supported, which it will, even a huge hit would still leave me with more money than anyone would ever need, I don’t care what happens to it.”

“Binghe, you’d be the front page of every magazine, every website, every news show. Your life would be exposed to the public, every single moment scrutinised and published for all to see. So would mine, and that’s if someone doesn’t get into their head that I must have abused you when you were a minor, in which case I could be jailed. It’s not a question of caring. You cannot do this.”

“Shen-laoshi would never have taken advantage of me! He couldn’t even tell I had a crush on him!” No one would ever believe something this ridiculous!

“That doesn’t matter. Binghe, I gave you a lot of attention. You remained after class so many times I cannot remember all of them. Everyone knew you were my favorite student. Look at it from the outside. How could you explain you, stunningly handsome and just as rich, choosing me, a no-name teacher with neither of those qualities, beside the fact that I groomed you? At best, I’ll be labelled a pervert and a degenerate. You can’t tell anyone you don’t trust. You’d be ruining your life.”

Luo Binghe had always known that their marriage might not ever be recognised. He had been fine with going abroad to get married, and had already set up a few shell corporations to finance legal challenges to the current definition of marriage, but he knew the chances of those challenges succeeding were slim.

In the end, it didn’t really matter. The commitment did. He had lawyers ready to set up the legal situation as close to marriage as it could be as soon as Shen Yuan agreed to it.

He’d never considered he would have to keep their relationship private, especially not forever. He has nothing to be ashamed of. If anything, he wants to brag! Who wouldn’t be jealous of him?

But if it’s going to make his laoshi’s life this much harder, to the point that prison was a possibility…

The prospect is too terrifying to contemplate. “We can move.”

“I’m sorry?”

That’s a good idea! “If we live elsewhere, somewhere where it’s not an issue, it wouldn’t matter as much!” And it’s not like another country would care that Shen-Yuan used to be his teacher! How would they know?

“And you would manage your inherited, incredibly complex conglomerate from there? Your board is going to love this.”

“And I should care because?”

“This is ridiculous. Binghe needs to think those things through instead of living in a fantasy where everything works out perfectly! He needs to think about his position before he jeopardises it! And he needs to think about his legacy before throwing everything away for a man! Don’t you want children?”

“If Laoshi wants some, we can adopt or arrange for a surrogate. It’s not an issue.” He bets Shen-laoshi’s children would be adorable. Luo Binghe would never leave them alone.

“Your fellow socialites would never accept it!”

This is really quite a pointless fight. “Again, I could not care less. I’ve never wanted their approval, and I don’t need it. The only approval I’ve ever wanted is yours. You must have felt something similar, since you gave this world up to work the job you wanted.”

“It’s not the same thing! I didn’t, nor would I ever have, your status! I wasn’t even my parents’ heir! I have three other siblings! They didn’t need me around. Your corporation has no one but you to rely on.”

“It’s just a corporation. If it bothers you so much, I could easily sell all my shares, step down from my post and live off the wealth for the rest of our life.” It would have the advantage of leaving him with nothing but time to take care of his laoshi.

It would also feel like failure. He worked so hard to make himself into the kind of man his laoshi could be proud of, the result of his constant efforts. Giving it all up would leave a bad taste in his mouth.

He would still do it in a heartbeat if his laoshi requested it of him.

“That’s not what I…” Shen Yuan rises from the couch, walking around the room hurriedly. “I think I’ll never understand why you do what you do. Surely I’m not worth it. My family certainly wouldn’t think so.”

He wouldn’t say it, because he knows it wouldn’t go down well, but one of the reasons Luo Binghe had looked forward to going public had been to rub in said family’s face their abandoned son’s success.

Now, he just wants to do it more. “For myself, I’ll never understand why Shen-laoshi cannot see his own worth when it’s so evident to me.”

Shen Yuan stops, a barely visible embarrassed flush on his face that instantly distracts Luo Binghe from this unpleasant conversation. “Binghe can’t say things like that just to change the subject.”

He snorts. “I wasn’t. It’s just true. Maybe if I keep telling Shen-laoshi what a wonderful person he is, he will start believing it.”

He sees Shen Yuan shutting up as he grows more embarrassed.

Luo Binghe goes to pull him into his arms. “I just want Shen-laoshi to be happy. If he wants to remain private, that’s what we’ll do. Just give me some time to figure it out.” It’s not what he wanted, but it can’t all be what he wants all the time, can it? If anything, it might be a good sign. Shen Yuan barely implied the situation was his fault, and didn’t offer to leave to take care of it.

Shen-laoshi appears to melt into his embrace, hiding his face into his neck.

Luo Binghe still hasn’t developed a resistance to Shen-laoshi showing him any form of vulnerability or affection, not that he thinks he ever will. He discards the conversation for now in favor of returning said affection in the way he’s still getting used to.

#The Scum Villain Self Serving System #Scum Villain #BingQiu #That AU where LBH and SY fail to negociate their sugar relationship

[lasting-inkpressions]

Burning Up [1/4]

Summary: When she applied to be the secretary for managing partner Rosé McCorkell, Denali hadn't expected to end up working for the biggest pain in her ass, nor did she expect anything beyond a professional relationship.

Word Count: 4,365

Note: Originally titled "Work Wives".

Prefer reading it on AO3?

Denali stood in front of the familiar panelled wooden door, a brown leather folio clutched to her chest and a fresh cup of coffee in her right hand. She was dressed in a cream sleeveless blouse and a black pencil skirt finished off with nude heels. She stared hard at the frosted glass with a name embossed in gold lettering across it.

Rosé McCorkell, one of the three managing partners in S. Child, a top law firm in New York City. She was also a major pain in Denali’s ass for all of the six months that she had been here as her secretary.

Steeling herself for her usual morning meeting with her, Denali took a deep breath, knocked on the door and waited. Seconds later, she heard the usual clicking of stiletto heels on hardwood floor before the door opened to reveal the woman that was her boss.

As much as she was a pain in the ass, Rosé McCorkell was undoubtedly a stunning woman. Standing tall in her black heels, she wore her auburn hair in perfect curls, dressed in a form fitting navy power suit with the blouse unbuttoned just low enough that Denali could see the deep curve of her cleavage. Catching herself before she stared for too long, she snapped her gaze back up to Rosé’s face and plastered on a smile, hoping that the other woman hadn’t noticed her staring.

“Good morning, Miss McCorkell, I’m here to go over your schedule for the day.”

Rosé stared back at Denali for a moment, causing the younger woman to squirm a little under her gaze, before deep red lips stretched into her trademark smirk.

The same smirk that drove Denali absolutely crazy for reasons she didn’t want to think too deeply into.

“Of course you are, come in.”

———

7 months ago.

Denali sat outside the interview room, waiting for her turn to go in. She was surrounded by other young candidates, each of them looking well groomed, neat and manicured. Most of them were in blazers, suits, the whole shebang and here Denali was dressed in a simple white blouse and black dress pants, her blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail with black pumps on her feet.

She hadn’t really thought too much about it when she had come across the ad and applied for the position. She just needed a job after graduating from college, but now she wasn’t too sure on whether she had made a mistake applying to be the secretary of a managing partner at S. Child. Denali had thought it would be an easy job. After all, a secretary just needed to be organised and have a good head on their shoulders, right? She hadn’t thought it would be a challenge, but looking around her now, with so many tense faces and how the place screamed money, she felt like she was out of her depth.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to duck out…

“Miss Denali Foxx.”

Denali cursed under her breath for not noticing that the previous interviewee had already left the room. She stood and walked to the door, feeling the eyes of the other candidates eyeing her outfit in disdain. Bracing herself, she knocked on the door and waited for a second before entering, coming face to face with three women seated behind a lacquered wooden conference table. Denali took note of each one as she sat in the lone chair before them.

From the website she had briefly scrolled through, she could recognise the three managing partners - Jan Sport was on the left, followed by Lagoona Bloo in the middle and Rosé McCorkell, the managing partner that she was applying to be the secretary of, on the right. From what she had gathered, all three of them were charismatic, intelligent and ruthless in their own rights when in the courtroom.

Lagoona opened a manila folder, cleared her throat and smiled warmly at the blonde in front of her. “Good afternoon Miss Foxx, thank you for taking the time to come down for this interview.” Denali smiled back at her, feeling a little more at ease at how friendly Lagoona seemed.

“Good afternoon, and thank you for having me.”

Lagoona nodded and introduced the three of them, then began the interview by asking her questions, with Jan interjecting a few herself. Denali had managed to answer most of them confidently, only ever stumbling once. All the while Rosé, the one who would decide whether she would be hired or not, had remained silent, simply choosing to flip through the thin file that held Denali’s details, barely even sparing her a glance.

After about ten minutes of back and forth, Lagoona asked her final question, then turned to look at Rosé.

“I think that’s about it from us. Do you have any questions for her, Rosé?”

Denali gulped, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her as the other woman finally looked up at her, folding her hands and resting her chin on them. After a few excruciating seconds, Rosé leaned back in her seat, eyes still trained on the blonde woman before finally speaking.

“Yes, why should I hire you out of everyone out there? From what I’ve read in your file, you seem to be the most inexperienced out of all the candidates. Were you hoping to somehow find a sugar daddy here? I mean you clearly have the looks for it.”

There was pin drop silence at her question. Lagoona had her face buried in her hands and Jan was struggling between wanting to laugh and wanting to strangle Rosé. Denali however sat stone still as Rosé stared down at her, her expression bored as she waited for the blonde to reply.

Denali’s mind was blank for a second before rage filled her veins.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.

Resisting the urge to slap the woman in front of her, Denali reigned it in and instead plastered on the sweetest smile she could muster.

“Well as inexperienced as I am, I can guarantee that if you hire me, you wouldn’t be hiring a cookie cutter suck up that wouldn’t be able to look past designer labels or waste their time trying to be someone they’re not. I can also guarantee that you wouldn’t be hiring a pushover who would go crying to their mother when the job gets tough, and knows that their worth is much more than just a few flimsy pieces of paper that won’t tell you the things that really matter.”

Denali stood, smoothing the wrinkles in her skirt before looking Rosé in the eye.

“And the statement about me wanting a sugar daddy? I’d rather a sugar mommy than a sugar daddy, though from what I see, there aren’t any worth my time here anyways.”

Figuring that the interview was a lost cause, Denali nodded her thanks to a stunned Lagoona and laughing Jan, completely ignoring Rosé, and turned on her heel to leave when she was stopped by two words.

“You’re hired.”

———

Present day.

Grinding her teeth as she glared at the desk in front of her, Denali had to tell herself to calm down as the source of her irritation smirked in her direction. If there was one thing that Denali could not stand, it was Rosé’s way of constantly pushing her buttons. Oh, there was no denying that the woman was good at her job, but the way she seemed to ooze confidence and acted as if she owned the damn place? God, that just made Denali’s blood boil.

“Is something the matter, Nali?”

Denali clenched her fist at the sound of Rosé's nick name for her. It was as if the older woman knew that it riled her up whenever she called her that. Looking up at Rosé, Denali bit back an insult and instead forced herself to smile at her. “No, Miss McCorkell, nothing’s the matter at all. Everything is perfectly fine.”

Staring down at the defiant younger woman for a moment from across her desk, Rosé winked at her. “If you say so, baby.”

Denali gripped the pen in her hand tightly. She breathed through her nose, mentally counting down the seconds till their meeting was over and done with as she wrote down every point that Rosé had said. Quickly going over her notes one last time, she looked back up at Rosé. “Is there anything else, Miss McCorkell?”

“Rosé.”

Denali blinked.

“What?”

“My name. I’ve told you to call me that from the beginning.” Denali rolled her eyes internally as she shuffled the loose sheets of paper into a neater pile. “And as I’ve said before, I’m much more comfortable calling you Miss McCorkell.” She heard Rosé’s low chuckle and the sound of fabric shifting. Denali looked up and immediately dropped her pen.

Rosé was suddenly much closer to her than before, leaning against the solid oak desk between them, an almost predatory look in her eye as she watched the younger girl seated in front of her.

“I wonder why.”

———

“So have you and Miss McCorkell fucked yet?”

Denali glared at Kandy as she walked back to her desk. She threw her pen at the girl and missed as it clattered to the floor, leaving the other girl cackling. “No bitch, and that’s never going to happen. What the fuck even makes you think that?” Kandy sat on the edge of Denali’s desk, a shit eating grin on her face. “Besides the fact that every time you leave her office, your face is always so flustered-“

“Because she always pisses me off-“

“-it’s also the way she stares at your ass, like she can’t wait to get her hands on it.” Denali rolled her eyes and retrieved her pen from the floor. “No, she doesn’t. I’ve never seen her look at my ass before.” And Denali was pretty sure that she would have noticed that, seeing as she’d been Rosé’s secretary for a while now. Plopping herself in her office chair, she opened her folio and started to go through her notes, pulling out a stack of colourful post-it’s from her drawer to help with her organisation. Not to be ignored, Kandy carried on as if the other girl wasn’t trying to ignore her.

“Girl, you don’t exactly have eyes on the back of your head, do you? Trust me, she wants to tap that.”

Denali resisted the urge to strangle the Latina sitting on her desk. Sure, there was always some tension in the room when they were together, but that was more from the fact that Rosé loved riling her up. It had been that way since day one, and sometimes Denali questioned her decision to have accepted the job offer, but the money and benefits were too good to pass up for a fresh grad. She shook her head as she replied dismissively.

“Even if she does, I’m not interested.”

Kandy looked at her in disbelief, one brow cocked. “Are you sure? She’s got a great pair of tits.” Well, she couldn’t argue with that. Denali had noticed Rosé’s ample breasts seeing as the managing partner loved to wear outfits that featured them in a daring, yet tasteful, fashion. If she had met Rosé in a bar, she would definitely have approached her.

Of course, she wasn’t going to tell Kandy that.

“Look, no matter how great her tits are, it’ll never make up for the mouth that she has on her.”

Kandy tutted, picking at her nails. “I’m pretty sure her mouth would be preoccupied when the two of you-“

“KANDY!”

“I’m just saying.”

Denali sighed, rubbing her forehead. God, this conversation was giving her a headache and digging at thoughts she had been trying to avoid herself.

“Listen Kandy, if there is one thing that I would never ever do, it is to sleep with my boss-“

“Denali-“

“I don’t care if she’s staring at my ass, I don’t care what she thinks of it-“

“Girl-“

“Me fucking Rosé McCorkell is never going to happen.”

“Well, as enlightening as this conversation is, it might be a little inappropriate to discuss my preferences in the office, don’t you think?”

She froze at the familiar voice behind her as Kandy quietly excused herself.

Shit.

“Cat got your tongue, Miss Foxx?”

Fucking shit.

Denali slowly stood and turned to look at her boss, who had an amused expression on her face and a file in hand.

“I believe that you left this document behind in my office.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Denali moved to retrieve the file from Rosé, trying her best to regain her composure.

“Right, yes- Let me photocopy this for you right away, Miss McCorkell.”

Rosé smirked and leaned in, her lips almost brushing against Denali’s ear.

“Strictly off the record, I do think you have a very nice ass.”

Face flushing a bright red and rendered speechless for a moment as Rosé pulled away, Denali stammered out an excuse before speeding off to the copy room, leaving behind a chuckling Rosé in her wake.

———

Denali was waiting alone for the lift at the end of the day, tapping her foot on the floor as she watched the numbers on the screen climb higher and higher.

It had been a long day, and she was still trying to recover from the embarrassing situation that had happened in the morning. She had spent the whole day actively avoiding her boss, something that wasn’t too difficult to do since she had a long list of tasks from her. Every time she had to drop something off at the older woman’s office, she made it a point to do so when she knew she was out for a meeting or when she was engaged in a call so that Rosé wouldn’t be able to say a word to her.

If she had the opportunity, Denali knew that the managing partner would say something to further humiliate or incite her.

Also, the statement that Rosé had made about her ass was still fresh and in the forefront of her mind, and something Denali had completely not expected. She knew that the two of them butted heads all the time, and that Rosé loved to challenge her secretary and pass along little comments and nicknames just to get a rise out of her. She had suspected that was the main reason that Rosé had hired her, because she was someone who fought back, but that comment about her ass? That had blindsided her.

She didn’t want to admit it, but everything Rosé did and said had an effect on her, and had been for some time now, but that was something that was entirely inappropriate.

Denali shifted her weight, watching the numbers get closer to the floor she was on when she heard the faint clicking of stilettos behind her and shut her eyes, praying to whoever was listening that the person approaching wasn’t who she thought it was, or that the elevator would arrive just before she did. Thankfully, the latter happened as the lift doors opened and Denali quickly stepped into the empty cab, immediately pressing the close button while pointedly making sure not to look up. She let out the breath that she had been unknowingly holding in as the doors slid closed, but her relief was short lived when the doors slid opened again, revealing the very same woman that she had been hoping not to see.

Fuck.

Nodding in greeting, she stepped to the side to give Rosé space, and also to put as much space as possible between the two of them. Rosé nodded back, and stood next to Denali, facing the doors as they closed and the lift slowly descended.

“So where has my little secretary been hiding the whole day?”

Denali’s hand twitched at her side. “I’ve been at my desk the entire day, Miss McCorkell, completing the tasks that you assigned me to do.”

“Is that so? So the little mouse that was scurrying in and out of my office wasn’t you?”

Swallowing a retort, Denali replied with as steady a voice as she could. “I don’t know what you mean, Miss McCorkell.”

Rosé turned her head, an eyebrow raised as she looked down at the squirming girl. Before she could say anything, the lift dinged and a group of people entered, forcing the two of them to take a step back. Denali breathed through her nose, then noticed how close Rosé was to her now in the confined space, so close she could smell the expensive Chanel No. 5 perfume that she loved to wear. Her heart was racing, and she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe it was the fact that Rosé was now standing close to her, or the fact that her words were replaying over and over in her mind.

Denali stilled when she felt a finger touching the back of hand. She looked down to see a perfectly manicured finger lazily tracing her knuckles before looking up at the owner of the hand, and felt all the air in her lungs escape.

Rosé was staring down at her, eyes a molten hazel and lips curved into that same infuriating smirk that drove Denali insane. She felt the other woman’s fingers slowly slip to the palm of her hand, the light touch causing heat to pool in Denali’s middle and her breath to shorten, and all the while Rosé never took her eyes off her. The younger girl swallowed and bit her lip, noting how the older woman’s heated gaze fell to her throat and then her lips, her palm tingling as Rosé continued to trace patterns on the sensitive skin of her palm.

Seconds later, their little bubble was broken when the lift dinged and people started to shuffle out. Rosé withdrew her hand, and made to leave too, but not before whispering in Denali’s ear.

“Never say never.”

Winking at the frozen girl, Rosé exited the lift, her hips swaying with each step as she left the building.

Denali was fucked.

———

The dynamics of their relationship had changed since that day. Rosé didn’t try as hard as before to get a rise out of Denali anymore. Before it seemed like she was aiming to piss her secretary off, but now it was the opposite. It was as if she was repeatedly trying to fluster her, dropping little teasing comments, purposely brushing their fingers together when passing Denali things, constantly staring intently at her with a knowing smirk on her face. It was slowly driving Denali insane.

She could handle it when Rosé was trying to piss her off, but this? This was completely different and she didn’t know how to handle this kind of attention from her. Denali always found herself blushing to her roots and stammering in response to these new interactions, which seemed to further amuse and encourage the redhead. With each interaction, Denali also found herself questioning everything.

Why was Rosé acting the way that she did?

Was she bored and simply wanted to find something to entertain her?

Was she just toying around with Denali and her emotions?

Sighing as she filled the cup of tea for Rosé’s potential new client, she shook the thoughts out of her head and walked back to the meeting room where he was waiting. Pasting on a polite smile, she pushed the glass door open and set the cup of tea on the table before a greasy looking man that looked as if he was in his late forties.

“Here’s your tea, Mister Tate.” The man smiled back at Denali, taking the cup of tea and sipping from it, all the while giving Denali a once over, much to her discomfort. Putting the cup down, he made a face. “Oh dear, there’s no sugar in this at all, is there?”

Denali blinked. He hadn’t mentioned any sugar earlier, and she had assumed that he wouldn’t need any. “My apologies, Mister Tate, let me get a fresh cup for you.” Reaching over to take back the cup, she was stopped when he grabbed onto her wrist, a sly smile on his face. “There’s no need to bother, it’s fine. After all, I have a sweet, pretty girl like you to entertain me while we wait for Miss McCorkell to arrive.”

Not another one of these men again. Forcing herself not to drop her smile, Denali replied in a tight voice. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr Tate.” She tried to politely tug her hand back to disengage his grip on her wrist, but before she knew it, he was on his feet, an arm slung over her shoulders.

“Mister Tate? No need for formalities, just call me Jim. After all, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around more often now.” Her stomach rolled at the pointed look he had in his eye, the widening smile on his face making him look even greasier. She knew his type and the implications behind his words, and had to force herself to hold in her disgust. As much as she wanted to knee him in the balls, she couldn’t do that here in the office, especially since he was a potential client of Rosé’s.

Swallowing the bile that was rising in her throat, Denali struggled to maintain being civil as she attempted to step out of his grip.

“Mister Tate, if you would kindly please let go of me, I-”

“Come now, Miss Foxx was it? Where’s your sense of hospitality? You forgot the sugar for my tea, but you look like you’ll make up for it-“

“What is going on here?”

The blonde felt a sheer sense of relief flood her when she saw the managing partner standing in the doorway of the meeting room, though the furious look in her eye was something unexpected.

Denali had never seen her this angry before.

The man however seemed completely oblivious to the rising anger of the other woman, and instead smiled at her. “Miss McCorkell! I was just getting acquainted with your lovely secretary here.”

Rosé glared at the man. “Mister Tate, I believe that my secretary doesn’t like your arm around her, and unless you’d like to lose that arm, I suggest that you take it off her.” Looking surprised, the man listened and took his arm off Denali, and she moved away, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire. Her eyes darted between the two as he stammered. “Miss McCorkell, we’re all adults here. I’m just having a bit of fun. Isn’t that why you keep her around? She sure is a stunner-”

Big mistake.

Rosé took a threatening step towards him, fists clenched and eyes glinting with unbridled rage at what he was implying.

“Get out.”

He gaped. “I- I beg your pardon?”

Rosé sneered, looking down at the now pale and shaking man.

“You heard me, you daft man, get out! I don’t need scum like you in my office, and I certainly don’t need your money. Now get out before I call security!”

Gaping like a fish out of water and scrambling to leave, the greasy man grabbed his bag and hurriedly left the office without looking back as Rosé kept her eyes pinned on his retreating back before turning back to face to her secretary. Denali gulped, and instinctively made to apologise, but was stopped when the older woman moved towards her and gently took her by the shoulders, examining her. “Denali, are you alright?” She asked, sliding her hands down and stopping to hold her wrists, rubbing soothing circles into her skin.

Denali hadn’t noticed, but she was shaking, and Rosé’s motions were slowly calming her down. Taking a shaky breath, Denali smiled weakly at her. “I’m fine, Miss McCorkell. Thank you for stepping in when you did.”

Rosé nodded. “Of course, how could I not? But are you sure you’re alright? Do you want to take the rest of the afternoon off?” Denali laughed drily, waving off the offer. “It’s alright, I’m fine now. It’s nothing that I’m not used to.” Rosé’s thumbs stopped moving and she frowned at Denali.

“What do you mean?” Denali blinked. Maybe she shouldn’t have said that.

“I mean I’ve had my fair share of creeps before-“ She explained with a fake laugh, trying to lighten the mood when she saw Rosé’s face darkening.

That wasn’t good.

“You mean here? In my office?”

“Well, er-“ Rosé stepped closer into Denali’s space, raising a hand to cup her face as she stared into the younger’s eyes, voice low as she demanded. “The truth please.” Denali swallowed, feeling the slightly murderous intent that the other woman was exuding, which contradicted the gentle hold that she had on Denali. Hesitantly, Denali nodded.

“..yes.”

Rosé clenched her jaw, taking a second to process what Denali had confirmed, before stepping back and letting go of her secretary. Denali could see that her hands were clenched into fists that Rosé quickly stuffed into the pockets of her suit when she noticed Denali looking at them, as if wanting to hide how she was trying to not lose her temper.

“I want their names.”

Denali frowned, confused. “Wha- Why?”

“So I can tear up their contracts. Anyone who touches you is not worth my time.” Denali’s eyes widened. This sounded like a rash decision, and she didn’t want to cost Rosé or the company money. Breaking contracts meant loss of income, which wasn’t worth it. Not when it was just a simple matter of harassment that she should be able to handle herself. “But Miss McCorkell, it’s not worth it, I can-“

Rosé shot Denali a sharp look at that, cutting her off. “No buts. I want their names on my desk by the end of the day.” Denali swallowed and nodded stiffly as Rosé held her gaze, eyes hardened before softening as she sighed. The managing partner turned to leave, but stopped at the doorway to give her one last meaningful look.

“Denali, don’t ever think that you’re not worth it.”

And she left, leaving behind a wide eyed and blushing Denali staring after her.

———

I have been hung up on the idea of writing a fic with a flirty boss Rosé and feisty secretary Denali. The sexual tension just writes itself.

I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. (:

xoxo Vera

#rosenali #rosénali #rosnali #rpdr fic #burning up fic #work wives verse #inkpression writes

[tenaciouspeacesandwich]

PSA: Online Safety

Ok so normally I don’t post personal stuff on here, but I saw something today that made me remember this and I knew I had to post it somewhere. 

When I was 14, I was really into digital art and online forums where people could post and discuss their paintings/drawings. As someone w/adhd and social anxiety, the internet was somewhere I felt I could be myself and be in control of my social interactions. It wasn’t as intimidating as making friends or talking to people in real life, and I built genuine social skills on there. However, I wasn’t aware of how dangerous these digital communities could be.

I had (still do) a really great relationship with my parents growing up, and they made sure to have the discussion with me about stranger danger and how you should never give away personal info online, all the classics. I never really hid anything I did on the computer from them, and they trusted me completely. They monitored our internet that was considered acceptable by most parenting standards (i.e. server blockers for adult content, etc.). But none of that mattered when I met someone on a discussion board who convinced me to meet up with them irl.

Obviously, looking back on it now years later, it was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done. Even at the time, I remember being a little scared when this person asked me to meet them at a public park. They were one of my online ‘art buddies’, ppl who critiqued and gave advice for your submissions, and we’d ‘known’ each other for a while. They complimented my sketches, gave me great tips on how to draw better, and I was really inspired by all the works they posted. Then the conversations meandered naturally from our posts to our lives, casual talk like how we hated homework but liked our teachers, our siblings were annoying, etc. 

WARNING: DESCRIPTION OF GROOMING AHEAD

Then, one day they messaged me complementing my self-portrait that I had posted. It was by no means realism, more of a cartoon version of myself, but their flattering words were enough to make my introverted,14-year-old self swoon. I was so shy in school, no one even knew i was there half the time, let alone told me i was beautiful. It made me feel special, valued, less alone. Looking back now, I see it for what it was. But at the time, those words only made me trust this person more. So when they mentioned that they lived in my city and asked if I wanted to meet up at a public park, it wasn’t a huge red flag to me. It was a public place, right? It’s not like they were asking for my social or my address or anything. And they wouldn’t be picking me up in their car, the park was close enough to my school that I could bike the 4 miles there myself. We were just gonna hang out at the picnic tables for a couple of hours, no big deal. 

Even though I’d seen this park before, I’d never actually been to it. My parents never took us there, and I always just assumed it was because there were other, closer parks to our house that were just as nice. It didn’t seem sketchy to me as I rode up closer, other than the fact that some of the playground equipment was rusty and the swing set had overgrown weeds on it. 

I remember this day so clearly even though it’s been 10 years now: I was pedaling up this mini-hill that went thru a neighborhood, and the park was at the bottom of the hill on the other side. I remember stopping at the top of the hill to catch my breath for a second on the sidewalk, and I looked down at the park. From where I was standing, I could see the picnic tables and the parking lot. My friend had been messaging me on my phone, and had been updating me ever since I left school on my bike. They said they were already there and had been waiting for me for the past 10 minutes, and that when I arrived I’d be able to find them really easily because they had a red convertible in the parking lot, and they had managed to get us a table that we didn’t have to share. I texted them when I left, asking if there were a lot of people at the park that day. Their reply was really distinct, because instead of ‘yeah, kinda’ or ‘not really’, they texted back; ‘Super crowded, some kind of birthday party at the gazebo- All kinds of moms lol’ . Reading that gave me assurance that I didn’t know I needed, and that’s why I remember the dread and fear I felt when I looked down at the park.

 There was no one there.

No party, no kids, nothing- the gazebo was empty, the playground deserted, everything was just quiet. 

Except for this one man sitting at a picnic table, who had to be at least my father’s age. There was a gray sedan parked in the lot (i’m assuming his, but I don’t know), and the man was looking down at his phone as he sat at the table.

I texted my ‘friend’ again, still hidden by the garage wall of someone’s house where my bike was parked at the top of the hill. My ‘friend’ was supposed to be a guy my age who was wearing a pink floyd t shirt and black jeans. I asked him, ‘is there food at the party?’

I got an instant reply; ‘Yeah, a grillout- smells amazing but i don’t think they’ll let us have anything lol’. 

I turned around and got on my bike, looking over my shoulder every 5 minutes, terrified that this guy might have seen and followed me. Thankfully, there was never anyone behind me, and I didn’t stop until I got home. I went to my room and deleted my entire account from that website, blocking my ‘friend’ first and deleting all of our conversation history in a panic before making sure every trace of me was gone forever. I sat there in my room for a while just staring at the wall. 

I don’t know for sure if the man that I saw had anything to do with the person I was messaging- I don’t know him or why he was at the park. All of these things are connections I drew from what I knew via the website and our conversation, and what I could see with my own eyes. But more powerful than any of that was the immense, strong gut feeling I had wash over me when I was about to meet that person. Something just felt very, very wrong. I was still happy and excited to meet them, but that happiness was soured by that innate reaction of dread and foreboding that just screamed at me to go away. 

I never told my parents about this, and still haven’t to this day. I know they would blame themselves for me being lured by this person (if that was in fact what happened), and that is the last thing I want- they did everything right.

That’s my entire point in posting this: my parents did everything by the book, took the experts advice, had an open and trusting relationship with me, and monitored our internet access. But I still made this happen, I still got my way, and I’m convinced that it’s by sheer luck that I’m still here today. I got up the courage to ask them one day, about 3 years after all this, when we were driving by that park why they never took us there as kids. My parents told me that park was notorious for drug use and crime, and that there were no working security cameras anywhere nearby. 

There have been so many people in my situation who unfortunately never came home. Please please please be careful who you talk to on the internet, and be even more careful about the excuses you tell yourself to justify why it’s ok for you to be communicating with strangers. I convinced myself that this was just a fun meet up with a friend, that it was safe because it was on a public property, and that it was ok for me to go by myself. I will remember this experience for the rest of my life. 

#public safety #online safety #grooming #child exploitation #luring #online predators #be safe #safety #parenting #online smarts

[ao3-sucks]

An Archive of Someone’s Own: my experiences being groomed in fandom circles on AO3

TW: Childhood sexual abuse, grooming, mentions of incest and rape.

I used to be a big writer of fanfiction. It was the logical choice for me. I loved to write and create bold and immersive worlds, and I craved an audience who would enjoy my work as much as I did. Since my writing wasn’t actually good, I needed a community of other amateurs who wouldn’t mind that, and by tweaking my characters and settings into ones from canonical media, I got the audience I so craved.

I started writing fanfiction online when I was 14, posting initially on FanFiction.net and then moving to AO3 a few months later. As I got back into writing original fiction towards the end of high school, I lost interest in this community, and it’s been a long time since I posted anything much on AO3.

I’ve always struggled with the fact I display a lot of symptoms of CSA, and for the longest time, I couldn’t figure out why. Throughout my teen years, I refused to get changed or bathe when anyone was even vaguely nearby, constantly paranoid about being spied on; I developed a severe touch phobia, and would have frequent panic attacks from something as small as brushing arms with a passerby; I resolutely identified as asexual and refused to get into anything resembling a relationship with others because the very concept disgusted and repulsed me.

Weird, considering I had grown up pretty normal and all of these symptoms had started around my early teens. It was only when I told my friends about my friendship with a 30 year old I had met online that the pieces started falling into place for me.

Child grooming is usually discussed in the context of one adult going out of their way to befriend a child with the goal of lowering their resistance to sexual abuse, through normalisation and friendliness. I’d like to talk about how that worked on the fanfiction website AO3. Since it’s an open website and most communication takes place between anonymous users or accounts in the comments section of a work, there is very little delineation between spaces for adults to discuss whatever dark topics they like and spaces for kids to do the same.

This frequently leads to pretty inappropriate conversations between people of widely varying ages and life experiences, which is how I ended up talking sex as a fourteen year old with people ranging from a couple of years older than me, who were generally okay, to more than twice my age. The 30 year old in question listed on her profile how many pedophilic ships she loved, and she knew my age but pushed me to keep discussing sexual topics with her. Sounds like a red flag, yeah? Well. I was 14, and very stupid.

This 30 year old woman, who I will call Aku (because it’s similar to her screen name and because it’s funny to name her after the bad guy from Samurai Jack) would start conversations with me whenever I posted anything to AO3 and would refuse to take no for an answer when I tried to back out of conversations with her, and since these conversations were public and occurring within comments, I didn’t want to be rude to her since this was taking place on content I was trying to promote.

I told her my age multiple times and she would either pretend she forgot from last time (saying her memory is super bad) or continue as though it was just trivia about me and not a sign she shouldn’t have been pushing me. My primary objection to what she would say to me (since most of it was just her being annoying) was her insistence on sexualising everything I wrote, and her determination to push me into writing pornographic content, which I eventually gave in to.

Yes, she was a terrible person. She emailed me using her personal email address, so I know her full name and place of residence, because she’s an idiot. These emails also contain sexually explicit materials. Nothing much ever happened between us except for these very creepy interactions and the fact we remained online friends for a few years. But here’s the thing: she wasn’t the only person pushing me into creating sexual content. Lots of people would comment on my writing demanding that I show explicit sexual content when I really didn’t want to.

After a while it felt like I couldn’t write a longer, romantic fanfiction without including explicit sexual content. Like my work wasn’t valid without it. Other, more popular writers were usually sexual in their content, and I wanted to be like them and bring in the views, right? So, when I look at my back catalog of works, I can see how my content moved from completely non-sexual to featuring sexual content over time, and the views usually came with. In this way, I was in an environment that was encouraging me on many levels to sexualise my own work, which impacted the way I thought about my creative process.

Here’s another example I remember. When I was a young sprout, I remember reading down someone’s list of fanfiction recommendations and seeing a work called Hug Therapy, which I promptly read. While the work is marked as explicit and containing the Loki/Thor pairing, the use of relationship and rating tags on AO3 is so poorly regulated that it didn’t really mean anything to me to see either of those. People tag hardcore material as non-explicit and tag friendships as relationships, because there’s no motivation to tag properly. Plus, someone I followed here on Tumblr had recommended it to me.

Now, you wouldn’t know from the listing, but while this piece starts out as comedy, it turns out in the end to include rape, incest, and BDSM in very explicit terms. The fact it was tagged as being explicit didn’t slow me down, because the liberal use of these tags could mean that an explicit tag was just there because sexual content was implied or mentioned, which I thought would be the case based on the rest of the listing. Out of curiosity, I recently tried to report this work to the moderators for containing no warnings about incest or rape, and I got this in response:

“Selecting “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings” satisfies a creator’s obligation under the warnings policy. Users who wish to avoid specific elements entirely should not access fanworks marked with “Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings”. Our Terms of Service note: “You understand that using the Archive may expose you to material that is offensive, triggering, erroneous, sexually explicit, indecent, blasphemous, objectionable, grammatically incorrect, or badly spelled. ….. This decision is in accordance with our policy of maximum inclusiveness; we have therefore closed this case and will not be investigating further.”

Which, yeah, I guess. The frustration comes from how ‘Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings’ is an extremely commonly used tag, and most things that it’s used on are totally harmless.

This fanfiction, which I was recommended by a friend, is hugely popular, in the top 60 most read fanfictions in the entire fandom. You wanna hear the kicker? The author, Astolat, is one of the founders of AO3. They’re not just some random author who isn’t following the rules. They’re a creator of the whole website, and they made the rules. This is pretty telling about how seriously the website actually takes protecting their users.

My final example I want to give is one of fetish content. People in fetish communities generally (not always) say that fetishes are probably something one should work up to after the onset of sexual activity, especially potentially harmful stuff like BDSM. In the circles I was running in, if you weren’t sporting a fetish or two (no matter your age) you were a boring bitch.

Maybe this isn’t true of everywhere in the fanfiction community, but I used to feel that bizarre pressure until I got out. Bear in mind that my main time in this community was from ages 14 to 17. I never made my age a secret, either. I told people outright I was that age, I was in high school, I was playing hockey and studying The Great Gatsby when I wasn’t online.

Since I was in the Avengers fandom and I liked Loki and the Asgardians, I was frequently exposed to incestuous content between Loki and Thor, and a lot of it came out of nowhere or was poorly tagged. This was considered the norm, and while I at first felt completely horrified and repulsed, within a year or two I no longer gave a shit. It’s only in the last few years as I’ve begun to unpack everything that I’ve started to get that strong revulsion reaction to incestuous content.

In the circles I was in, it was relentlessly normal. Normal to the point that people who disliked it were usually shouted down. Even to this day, debate rages on in fandom spaces about whether or not content like this normalises this kind of abuse. In my own personal experience, which I don’t usually like to talk about, it absolutely does.

In real life, this normalisation started to have serious consequences for my mental health and interpersonal relationships. In fanfiction, any occasion when you are alone with someone could become sexual, any familial relationship is possibly sexual, and it doesn’t matter if you like it or not. I became incredibly anxious around male family members for fear of being sexually assaulted, and my OCD, which I had been developing since I was a child, turned from thoughts of physical violence to thoughts of graphically sexually assaulted by anyone and everyone around me.

My fear of being touched got to the point where I would have panic attacks if anyone came anywhere close to touching me. I quit sports, fucked up my romantic relationships, and didn’t hug anyone, not even members of my family, for years. All the while, I had bought my first laptop and was consuming more fanfiction than ever before. I struggled with my sexuality growing up, as I am bisexual, and while fanfiction provided LGBT content to help me, the content was frequently so disturbing that I viewed any expression of sexuality as something evil and predatory.

The community on AO3, whether you like it or not, is often sexual, and provides no barriers between the casual user looking for content and extremely intense fetish material. It’s sometimes called the Pornhub of fanfiction, but considering the wide range of people who use it, it’s more like if you opened Youtube and saw niche hardcore fetish videos just on the front page, recommended and trending.

Sure, you have to click a little button to confirm you’re 18 before you can actually read a story, but the tags and descriptions of readily available works can be extremely explicit. Fanfiction also brings you into close contact with fellow readers and the author, and encourages you to become a content creator, which in some ways makes it more dangerous.

I was affected much more strongly by what I saw than most people would be, because I was already treading shaky ground. But I’m also not the only person out there who has been hurt in this way. Most of my friends who grew up in fandom can report the impact that fanfiction culture had on them. One of my friends from high school knew a panoply of porn terms at age 14 or so due to reading fanfiction, and another of my other friends at high school almost exclusively read rape porn because it was her favourite. I didn’t have friends who watched porn; I had friends who read fanfiction. These are just as troubling to me as any other accounts of young people consuming visual porn from a very early age.

It’s frequently cited that fanfiction gives minority groups the opportunity for creative outlet. It was a great place for me to cut my teeth as a content creator, and a source of acceptance and kindness when times were tough. Fanfiction communities have historically been the domain of women and minorities, and create a space for these people to tell their own stories.

It’s largely because of this that fanfiction communities fear censorship and strict moderation, as they have been attacked in the past on homophobic or misogynistic grounds, resulting in mass deletions of works or the shutdown of websites. But there must be some middle ground between total censorship and the kind of free rein that puts vulnerable people in danger, and I strongly encourage the board of AO3 to seek this middle ground out.

But it’s the community itself that needs to shape up; AO3 is, after all, a community-led website built by fans for fans, so the fact that this website has such issues is a reflection of the issues that run deeply within the people who created it. Aku didn’t talk to me with the intention of doing me harm, or so I believe at this time, and she didn’t pursue me as a lone wolf or in isolation.

She was simply a particularly brazen member of a community that was used to having inappropriate conversations with young people and sexualising everything they did. Even people my own age were jokingly pushing me into discussing and consuming extremely sexual content. It was just normal. That’s what I want to say here. Inside the world of fandom on AO3, the grooming of children with sexual content is normal. And that’s scary.

- Mod Daft

#mod daft post #ao3 discourse #fandom wank #fanfiction discourse #fanfiction wank #csa// #rape// #grooming// #incest//

[buck-nialled]

All of these pregnancy imagines really make me want one with a birth. Can you do one where the reader goes into labor and niall panics and they get to the hospital. He's freaking out about here pain and not being able to do anything and then in the end the happy moment seeing their child for the first time. I hope this isn't to specific.

NOTE: sorry i switched on my “hella activist” mode last night but thank you for your overwhelming patience anon and to everybody in need of a dad!niall imagine, here it is!

Code Word - N. Horan Imagine

“We should have a code word.” Niall deduces one night, with his arms wound around your middle and slowly rubbing the slight protrusion of your five-month-pregnant belly through your—his—soft, cotton shirt. While maternity clothes were a relaxing option to wear, nothing could compare to the comfort one of Niall’s shirts brought you. You sunk further into the couch’s back cushion and turned your head to study his profile. Niall already had the ‘dad’ look perfect, even before the big news was confirmed to both of you. His bearded chin and chest always appeared properly groomed, even on the days where he did nothing to them. His polo shirts and golf shorts told you exactly how he spent his Sunday mornings and took his burger at every barbeque he hosted. And if that was not enough evidence for how eager he was for his little girl to enter the world, the expansive list of pastel pink items in your amazon cart was definite proof.

“A code word?” You repeated. Niall hummed and continued the soothing motions against your stomach, not taking his eyes away from the television screen. “For what?” This was when his crystal blue eyes flicked away from the show you two had become most recently invested in and focused their attention on your confused features.

“For the lil’ one. When…ya know…” Niall’s tone made the answer seem obvious, but the awkward presentation and gesticulations of his free hand told you enough. He did not know how to say it, and you feared his struggle would worsen if you let him continue.

“Yeah, I know.” You bring your hand up to connect with his spastic one, still, mid-air, while he grins at the action, grateful.

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“What about red?” Niall suggests, eyeing your figure from across the small kitchen table. Two months had passed since Niall brought up the brilliant idea of having a codeword for when your baby came. But choosing one that fit was easier said than done, both of you concluded.

“Niall, we’re looking for a codeword. Not a safe word.” You remarked, a bit more bite to your tone than pre-pregnant Y/N would have justified. But, at this moment in time, you were not bothering to bottle the hormones flying inside of you like hornets in a shrinking nest.

“Right,” he mutters. “Why don’t we just use her name?”

“Great idea,” the bitter chuckle stings Niall’s insides more than they should have. He knows you do not mean any of the harsh words you were directed at him so suddenly, but it was hard to remind himself of it from time to time. “If only we could decide on one of those, too!” You exclaim, falling back against the chair and crossing your arms. Tilting your head back, you suck in a deep breath and try to control the oncoming migraine tapping at your temples.

“Maybe we should leave the name thing for later.” This statement from Niall concludes the conversation.

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Eight months in, and it became clear that the stress from an impending newborn was all too heavy on your and Niall’s shoulders. Both of you could only remain serious for so long, which could have been a factor in your tense conversations. Another reason would be that neither of you had left the house much for things other than work or grocery runs. Especially you, who felt like you had not seen the light of day for years. Niall would leave for the studio to record for three hours maximum a day, before coming back home to attend to his new top priority: you.

When the two of your first heard the news, a small disappointment settled over you at the fact that you would need to stay sober the following nine months from alcohol, caffeine, and anything high in sugars. It surprised you when Niall opted to join the boycott against drinks, especially alcohol. Niall spoke drunken slurs like his second language, so it took multiple times of asking him if he was sure he wanted to give what he described as “sweet nectar” for almost a year.

This took much correcting on Niall’s part. Anytime he was invited to the pub with his friends, he kindly declined and predicted he would not be able to control himself. Tonight, though, you and Niall decided to make your own drinking game. To liven up the activity of scouring through baby name websites, the two of you ordered from your local Thai restaurant and made up your own drinking game to complement the night’s festivities.

“Anytime we find a name we hate,” you explain, lifting the bottle of orange juice and nodding to another you set in front of Niall, “we take a sip. Then, by the end of the night, we’ll have a good spectrum of what names we like.”

“Good idea, petal.” He smiles proudly in your direction, before furrowing his brows at the vibrantly colored drink. “But why orange juice?”

“It was the closest we had to screwdrivers.” You shrug with a giggle.

And the game ensued, both of you taking turns reading down the list of baby names on various websites from Niall’s computer and sipping sparingly at the bottled juice. There were a few names the two of you reacted differently towards. Niall would not his head in approval at how nice Brooklyn sounded, while you nearly choked on your juice beside him. Before you could argue your disposal towards the name Vivian, Niall was shushing you and emphasizing how much he did not want his daughter named that with a large gulp of juice.

Two and a half hours later, empty take-out containers and hollow orange juice bottles sat on the coffee table in front of the couch, along with a list of names you and Niall were agreeable with. You were splayed back against his chest, body fitting cozily between his thighs.

“That was really good orange juice,” you murmur amidst the comfortable silence. At this point in your nine-month-long journey, Niall learned not to question what your baby brain thought necessary to say aloud. Rather, he hums in agreement and sets a soft kiss against the crown of your head.

“It was.” He approves, leaning forward to rest his chin atop your head. “We should by just oranges next time and try making some. My mum has this recipe for some I’ve been wanting to try out.” You let out an enthusiastic hum and close your eyes, fully relaxing against your husband’s torso.

“Clementines are better.” You counter. It was silent for a moment until the noise of Niall shifting from underneath you enter your ears. His eyes land on yours with a triumphant grin when you tilt your head back against him.

“What?” You demand, unable to hide your smile by the sight of his contagious one. ‘

“Clementine…s’ a pretty good codeword. Don’t you think?” When the energy of Niall’s mental lightbulb is transferred to yours, the grin on your face stretches to match his.

“Clementine…I love it.” Impending tears blur your vision before you could even realize the hormones invading your system yet again. Niall pulls you back into his chest immediately, rocking your body back and forth as he laughs boisterously in celebration.

“It’s happening, baby. We’re going to have a lil’ clementine!”

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“Niall, baby, it’s happening.” Your shattered breaths made it difficult for the announcement to leave your mouth as more than a whisper. “Niall!” Your voice croaks as the wet feeling in between your legs intensifies, and you are hitting the man beside you only seconds later in a desperate cry for help. He groans and stirs before his silhouette is rising beside yours on the bed.

“What is it, petal?” He inquires, knuckling at his eyes through a deep yawn. Not only seconds later were they as swollen as your nine-month stomach when you cried out hysterically.

“Clementine! Clementine!” Your husband was up in an instant, shuffling the opposite side of the bed where you lay in a panic.

“Shit!” He hisses. “Alright, come on let’s get you to the car.” His outstretched hand felt like putty in your painful grip as he led you to the car which held the baby bag and changes of clothes for the two of you when the fateful day had arrived. Niall was grateful for the extra shirts he thought to pack and hastily snatched one from the back seat, tossing it over his frame and scurrying into the driver’s side. He continued enduring your teeth-grinding squeezes through the fifteen-minute car ride, wanting nothing but to smother your whimpers and pleas to drive faster with one of his famous hugs or back massages.

Walking you out of the car and into the hospital proved to be even more of a difficult task. The pain lighting flames in your insides and the prominent ache in your feet left you stubborn to move from your spot in the car seat. Niall caved into your arguments of not moving and sped into the hospital, almost ramming his middle into the receptionist’s desk from his run.

“Hi, um—I need help. M-my wife, she’s in the car and c-can’t move. She’s…she just…” Niall was trying to find the right words. Damn, if only the bewildered woman at the desk knew his mind as well as you did. “I can’t…c-clementine.” Niall sputtered out desperately. The woman raises her hands and stands herself up from her chair.

“Sir calm down. You said your wife needs medical attention?”

“Yes.” Niall breathes out, bloodshot eyes desperate and pleading.

“I am going to call the doctors on staff right away. Would you give me the patient's name and a description of the vehicle?” After following all instructions, the nurse recommends Niall too wait outside with her until the doctors to show up. The entire time, Niall waits by her side and kisses her clammy hands, mumbling small words of encouragement to you. A gurney and group of doctors are at your side moments later and situating you atop it. Niall chases you down the hallway, never taking his eyes of your bloated stomach bouncing up and down through breaths.

Everything calmed down for the most part when the midwife taking care of you introduced herself.

“So, is it a boy or a girl?” She questions you and Niall.

“Girl.” The two of you harmonize.

“Awe, and what’s the cutie’s name?” She coos, adjusting some of the machinery surrounding you. The way you and Niall’s panicked expressions turned to each other was instantaneous. Both of you sat there in the room, picturing the yellow, legal pad scrawled with names for your daughter never decided on.

“We never chose,” Niall whispers, wide-eyed. The doctor catches his comment, though.

“Oh, that’s alright. You still have plenty of time to discuss and choose. Most parents don’t know until they see their child.” She points. “I am going to gather a few more things…did you want that yoga ball still?” The hospital gown you were now donning was clenched in your fist and you whimpered, now being reminded of the insufferable pain your clementine was causing. You managed a weak nod and turned to peek at Niall, who was lost in thought.

“Okay, what names do you remember writing down?” You ask upon the sound of the door clicking shut.

“Uh…” he scratches the back of his head, “let’s see, there was Cynthia, Naomi, Harper—”

“Harper! Yes, I liked that one a lot.” The name was always taunting the back of Niall’s mind, in every daydream of his where the two of you would be gazing down at the small girl, cradling her in his arms and welcoming her to the world with tearful eyes.

“Okay, so it’s decided. Harper Jamie Horan.” The name rolled off of his tongue, and for some reason, you nodded your head to confirm your future daughter’s name. But the longer you waited, and the more contractions which rolled through your body like steep hills, it was not sitting well in your mind. Both of you decided earlier on that the middle name should take after Niall’s simply due to the fact that you adored it so much. If you were having a boy, the alternative would have been James.

Maybe it was the middle name idea or that Harper just did not have the right ring to it. There was not too much time for you to relax and ponder over what exactly you just agreed to, because you were too focused on getting the small child out of you first.

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“Alright, Y/N. It’s time.” The doctor instructs. “Start pushing for me.” Not too long after obeying her words, your blood-curdling screams were reverberating against the walls. That epidural you had been given only half an hour prior was surely defective, you thought as you gave another hard push. The doctor gasps.

“I see it! I see the head! Keep going, Y/N!” She encourages with a few beckoning nods. A sob racks through your chest as you keep your tight grip on Niall’s hand. By this point, his fingers were numb, but he was not about to disrupt this moment of distress to complain about a mild concern.

“Y/N, you’re losing strength. Take a deep breath for me, just a few more pushes I promise.” The midwife advises, staring at the small fetus’s head beneath your gown. You follow her guidance, chest heaving up and down before a groan rattled your frame as you pushed once more.

“I-I can’t push anymore.” You refuse, shaking your head. The sight of tears streaming down your face was not a pretty one to Niall.

“Yes, you can, honey. You know you can. I believe in you okay. You can do this.” You whimper and gaze down at your lap, sniffling back the tsunami of tears pooling behind your eyes. Niall’s fingers were beneath your chin in an instant, lifting your face to meet his hopeful eyes. “Y/N Horan, you are the strongest woman I know. And you’re going to push for me and Clementine, okay?” Niall asks. The nickname he still finds himself using pulls at the seams in your heart as no other thing could. You shake your head furiously in a nod, before turning your head back to the nurse.

“Ready, Y/N?” Niall’s lips connect to your pulsing temple. “Push!”

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The smell of sweat and disinfectant intoxicate your nose. A heart-wrenching cry of something shrill enters your ears and you find yourself laying back against the hospital bed, panting and sticky from sweat and your congested nose.

“Mrs. Horan, I’d like you to meet your new daughter.” Your mouth drops at the sight of a bundled cotton blanket approaching you. Only a small thumb could be seen poking out of it until one of the nurses crouched down to hand her to you. Her eyes were drooped shut as nonsensical whines left her mouth, and all you could manage was a small coo.

“Hi…I’m your mommy.” You giggle through snuffles of your nose. The tears you thought had left built back up all too soon. “Ni, look at her.” You whisper, but he was all too entranced by the sight of his daughter before you had even spoken. He wonders what color lie behind her pale, pink eyelids, and what the first word would be out of her small, crying mouth.

“Nice to meet ya, little one.” Niall’s large hand approached her smaller one and the feeling his calloused thumb bumping against her smooth skin has her small fingers wrapping around it and quieting her cries. “You look just as gorgeous as your mother.”

“So what’s her name?” One of the nurses inquired. You opened your mouth and stared craters into Niall’s profile. The feeling was all too familiar to him this far in with you that it was instinct to face your wondering gaze.

“I actually had a different idea.” You mumble, before leaning closer to whisper the name into his ear. After you do, a grin like no other stretches across his face. His heart was wrapped in accomplishment, proudness, and overall love for the two females seated beside him. It was astounding how one of them was changing her name for him only years ago, and now they are naming one of their own together. But you’d be damned if it was not worth it. After all, Harper Clementine Horan was a pretty sweet name.

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