#i worked with adults with disabilities for years n like

[chryblossomjjk]

…

[sillypilled-friendcel]

"what do you know about drinking" "what do you know about smoking" "what do you know about weed" "what do you know about drugs" you do not know me or my life!!!!!!

[notjustjavierpena]

Swelter

Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This happened because the SAG Awards made me horny. I have no other explanation for my behavior, no other defence. Maybe that I was listening to ur dad by VIAL. Obviously also a huge thanks to @strang3lov3 for being the cutest love bug I know, and for putting up with my brainstorming sessions.

Summary: You have a crush on Sarah’s father. It is summer, it is hot, and you just want a cold drink.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, best friend’s dad, significant age gap (reader is 19-22, Joel is in his mid-40s), SEXUAL TENSION, bee stings, groping, voyeur to some degree, f masturbation, dirty talk, an endless amount of pet names, sexy play with a soda can, praise kink, car sex, daddy kink, fingering, unprotected piv sex, joel’s cock is huge in this, creampie, premature ejaculation, pussy eating, come eating, squirting

Word count: 6.8k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54233479

Swelter

A warm Texas breeze blows through the open window of Sarah’s childhood room, making the see-through pink curtains move elegantly from side to side. It hits your back right underneath your halter neck as you lay on Sarah’s bed, caressing your bare skin and making you think of him. You wonder if his hands would have the same effect on you because you find yourself shivering but not from feeling cold. He is somewhere here, and his daughter doesn’t even know that her best friend obsesses about that fact.

Sarah hasn’t changed her room since she was a teenager. She told you this the first time she brought you here, which is almost a year ago today. You were here last summer too, thrilled to be invited to spend a few weeks of your summer with a friend from college and you and her have been inseparable ever since, even if you are so different from each other.

You have your face in a woman’s magazine, propped up on your elbows so you can suck on a popsicle stick whilst turning the pages. There’s a page with the recipe for ‘The Best Fudgy Chocolate Cake Ever!’ next to a page on how to lose weight, and it makes you snort.

“What?” Sarah turns on her chair, pausing the video on her computer.

“What kinda woman are you? You can choose one, but only one. Don’t get greedy now!” You make a scratchy voice but then pop your ice pop in your mouth to hold up the magazine for her to see.

“Seriously? We can’t win,” she groans dramatically, “Chocolate cake always. I just want to be happy, and that looks like a serotonin boost.”

Suddenly, the door opens without any warning. It’s him. Mr. Miller. You quickly remove the popsicle from your mouth, not about to show him how your lips are stretched around the sugary snack. The open door causes a draft to blow the smell of his cologne your way, and it is intoxicating beyond your imagination because you relish in it in secret.

“Dad,” Sarah says with exasperation, “I thought being an adult earned you the privilege of more privacy.”

“It’s gettin’ colder outside now,” he states and ignores her comment, hand resting on the doorknob, “The Adlers need Mercy to be walked, and the pavement’s coolin’ down.”

“I walked him when I was fourteen,” she furrows her brow and you suppress a snicker, “I’m twenty.”

“Just ‘cause you’re grown, don’t mean you can’t do right by ‘em,” he states matter-of-factly.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you say from your spot on the bed as Sarah fumes quietly, absentmindedly reaching to pull the short skirt of your dress down. He can probably see the start of your ass from how it has been riding up as you lay down on the sheets.

“Hiya darlin’,” he replies and you swear you can hear a restrained sound in his voice. He turns to Sarah again, “Get your butt off that chair.”

“Fine,” she follows through on her orders but still wants to argue, probably embarrassed at being ordered around by her father in front of her friend. She gestures to you, “And what about my guest?”

“She’s grown too, which means she can probably entertain herself the half hour you’ll be gone,” he dares wink at you, and blood courses through your veins.

“I’ll just get that assignment done while you’re out,” you reassure and try not to seem like your core is shaking.

“See?” Joel looks triumphant.

“You’d make a hell of a lawyer,” she deadpans at her father and walks past him.

When he closes the door and leaves you alone in the bedroom, you can feel your popsicle having melted, its syrupy water running down your fingers. You switch hands and suck the sticky fingers into your mouth. The action makes Mr. Miller’s image flash in your mind and you press your thighs together before getting up and finding your laptop.

You find that it’s near impossible to concentrate on proofreading your assignment in the tiny bedroom after just five minutes of being alone. It’s not that you can’t concentrate in the Summer heat but no matter what you do, your mind keeps circling back to Joel’s voice as he called you darling. It heats you more than the sun ever could, and with every tap on your keyboard, your mouth gets more and more dry.

Eventually, you push yourself to stand from your seat at the desk and make a decision to go fetch something to drink, and it is definitely not with the intention of accidentally bumping into Sarah’s father. Not even when you do not find Joel in the kitchen and decide to bypass it altogether to continue into the garage in hopes of being successful in your search for a drink (obviously).

This infatuation started last year. It took you about ten seconds - from walking into the kitchen and shaking Joel’s hand - to realize that Sarah was cursed with having him as a father. Firstly, he was outrageously handsome; always wearing washed-out t-shirts that clung to his shoulders, always smiling with teeth, sporting salt-and-pepper curls, and sometimes even shocking you by entering the kitchen with working gloves on. However, when he opened his mouth and spoke, a southern drawl dripped from his lips and made your whole body tense up. He was charming, respectful, and laughed at the right moments. Most importantly, he laughed at every damn attempt that you made at being funny, and while it was probably an attempt to be nice and make you feel at home, it spurred you on terribly to win him over at every opportunity.

Despite all that, those opportunities weren’t many. He was also cool enough to know that his daughter didn’t want him hanging around all the time, and so he spent many days either in the garden to mow the lawn in competition with the rest of the fathers down the street, in the garage to fix up some old truck, or with his brother, Tommy, and Tommy’s wife who always had some DIY-project going on.

Thus, the summer became one of tanning sessions in the garden, movies in Sarah’s room, stolen glances at Joel Miller whenever he came inside to quench his thirst after hard labor, and secret longing whenever he had kept away for too long.

One particular day last year, Sarah had failed to mention that her father would be home most of the last days you were in their house, and because he was always out, you were getting more and more comfortable with walking around in your towels post-showers or leaving the door unlocked when changing.

The particular event had happened in the morning when the house had been silent except for the kitchen where Sarah was preparing breakfast, using a large box of pancake mix and the whole fruit section of the local grocery store for topping. You had just showered, standing with your head in your suitcase to search for the last few pieces of clothing you had that were clean when there was a rap on the door and a pull of the handle not even a second later.

“Sarah, I need—“

You whipped around at the sound of a new voice entering the room. Your heart nearly burst out of your chest, feeling as though it was fighting its way out between your ribs as embarrassment began to flood your system. Even so, you stood too frozen to reach for something to cover yourself up.

Joel was in the doorway and dead silent, looking as if struck by lightning. Like earlier today, his hand had been resting on the doorknob and in the painfully short moment that the both of you were processing the situation, you saw that his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles.

And then it happened, the thing that had soaked you in forbidden desire and delicious excitement; his gaze had flickered down your body and taken you in for the briefest of seconds. His gaze had traveled from the hard peaks of your nipples to the shape of your hips and the softness of your young cunt.

“Fuck,” you heard him utter as he remembered himself and his self-awareness made you finally grab the top you were going to be wearing that day to cover up your quivering body. He slammed the door shut and spoke through it, ��Christ, ’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Mr. Miller,” you promised but he was already gone. You immediately locked the door afterward to come so hard with two fingers on your clit that you had to hold onto the chair by the desk.

God, you want him to look at you like that again, want to tell him it is all for him. Now, as wrong as you know it is, you find yourself searching for an excuse to get him to ogle you and the chances are higher if he actually spends time with you.

“Hi, Mr. Miller,” you announce yourself as you enter the garage through the door in the kitchen. Joel has his head inside the hood of his truck, leaning over to inspect something that you wouldn’t understand anything about anyway. He grips the front side of the engine room to push himself to stand, closes the top of the hood of his truck, and turns around to face you.

“Hey kiddo,” he returns with a smile, “How many times do I gotta say to ya that it’s just Joel?”

“Alright, Mr. Miller,” you tease, “—I mean, Just Joel.”

You hear him laugh softly but you don’t dare look at him, afraid that you’ll spontaneously combust. He goes to the utility sink to wash his hands, saying nothing more and making you feel insane for coming apart in the silence.

“I’m just getting something to drink,” you explain when it becomes too much, “Sarah’s room is boiling hot.”

“That’s fine, take what you’d like,” he replies, and there’s a kind teasing in his voice. “But don’t touch the orange sodas. Those are mine.”

The concrete floor of the garage is cold on your bare feet as you pad across the floor where an old bottom-freezer refrigerator stands in the corner, humming in the otherwise quiet room. It has seen better days, and it seems like Sarah has tried to cheer up its weathered appearance by covering it in stickers and ugly magnets.

“Now I have to get one of those,” you giggle and pull the door open, scanning the contents and noticing that the sodas are on the bottom shelf. You hesitate for just a second, and then you choose to bend over instead of crouching down. Behind you, Joel Miller is completely silent.

In the beginning, it hadn’t been your intention to let the crush fester in your brain and turn it into something more but last week, during dinner out on the terrace, you had accidentally sat down on a bee and gotten stung on the back of your thigh. The cry you had let out had nearly made Joel tip over the table to get to you, his chair falling backward as he got up from his seat.

“Fuck! Ow ow ow!” You cried and hobbled around on the grass. The pain was unbearable but the shock only seemed to make it worse.

“Sarah, please get some ice and some antihistamines. There should be a bottle on my nightstand,” Joel ordered quickly and she rushed inside. He walked toward you, grabbing at your shoulders to ground you but his touch only heightened all other sensations. He dug his thumbs into you and your head swam, “Sweetheart, ‘tis just a bee, shh, calm down. I need to remove the stinger. Lemme see ya.”

“It really fucking hurts, Mr. Miller,” you said with a whine as he guided you to one of the loungers that Sarah and you had dragged out from the shed earlier that week.

“I know,” he finally let go of you so you could think just a bit more clearly, “Lemme take a look. Lie down on your front.”

You followed orders with the realization of how much you trusted his judgment, that he would treat you right, moving carefully because the flex of your thigh muscle was making the pain worse. The wooden lounger burned slightly against the front of your thighs, and you pressed your cheek into its slats while screwing your eyes shut.

The wood creaked behind you as he knelt on it with one knee and suddenly, his broad hand was perched on the top of your thigh in an attempt to keep your skin taut. You sucked in a breath but he only mistook it for more pain.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. I can see it,” his breath was slightly quicker but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, “He really got ya right on your inner thigh. Hold on.”

Your eyes shot open when his thumb ran towards the innermost part of the back of your thigh, a sort of panicked arousal spiking from your chest and thighs. He paused for a second then murmured something, a swear word that you tried to take as frustration. There was a beat but then he cleared his throat, “Can you bend your leg a little? I wanna make sure that I get it on the first try.”

“How?” You asked stupidly. The image of how he would be looming over your backside made your heartbeat go down between your legs, “My dress’ll ride up.”

“Just bend the knee a little, pull it towards your chest,” he explained and cleared his throat once more, “On my life, I won’t look.”

So you did as he told you, and sure enough, your dress betrayed you by crawling slowly up to sit around your hip instead of the middle part of your thigh. You looked back at him when he started picking at the stinger with his nails, and you hoped that he would not notice your gawking at his concentrated expression.

A flash of the day he had barged in on you naked flashed in your mind because his eyes were so focused on not staring at you that you nearly whimpered when you saw his eyes flicker to the spot of dampness between your legs for no more than a second.

You had worn white cotton panties that day so they would not be seen through your dress. They were straining against your pussy in this position and all he had to do was reach out, and he’d find your clit poking against the fabric from how excited you were feeling.

He had had the perfect outline of your cunt, and it’s the same now as you bend over to get to the very bottom of the fridge, reaching for a cold drink that just happens to be his favorite. You know that he can see everything, and the worst is that you know he already has. Twice. The mere thought is so dirty that your heart starts pounding in your chest and sends heat through your already hot body, so you hurry to stretch to your full height again.

With a cocky grin that is mostly put on to hide your anxious excitement about what you have just done, you turn to face Joel and walk to stand in front of him and his car. His cologne fills your nostrils again, and the scent seems once again to have a direct line to your cunt because you have never felt more empty. In front of you, Joel’s jaw is clenched but other than that, he seems a lot more calm and composed than you.

That is until you jump onto the hood of the car and scoot back, letting your bare feet dangle out over the edge. You crack open the soda in your hand and take a sip that is a little longer than intended. The satisfying burn of the fizz grounds you in the warm climate, but it is even more heavenly as you tuck the skirt of your dress between your thighs so you can place the cold can there.

Joel shakes his head with a sigh but you know he is playing a game as much as you because he cannot help but crack a smile back at you, “You’re trouble, I knew it the second Sarah brought ya into my house.”

“Oh, whatever will I do?” You ask dramatically and lean back against the windshield.

“Go morally bankrupt?” He raises a brow. If only he knew what is going through your mind. You catch him looking at you in the fashion that you have craved when you sigh deeply and cause your chest to push out.

“Only that?” You take another sip and some of the contents spill down your chin in a thick, sticky trail due to the angle you’re sitting in. You reach up to wipe it away with your index finger and then dare to suck your finger clean with the intention of mimicking the way that you had licked it clean earlier when it had been coated in melted popsicle.

“Give it here,” he says. You lock eyes with him. However, your eyes widen slightly when he nods at the can and takes it from between your thighs. There’s electricity shooting through your nerves the second his fingers touch the fabric of your dress but they intensify to a dizzying degree when he takes a sip of the soda too.

Like a reflex, the sight of him drinking from the can that’s been nestled between your thighs makes your legs fall out to the sides. You’re worse than an obedient dog in your horniness, reacting the same way to the way he moves as it would to the sound of a bell ringing.

Your dress rides up slowly along your thighs, revealing your sweaty skin that feels sticky by now and Joel clears his throat after briefly looking down. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, and when you realize the effect it has on the poor man, you grab the hem and pull upwards, “It’s so hot outside today. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to the heat here in Texas.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says and his face has got a pinker tint, pulse visible on the side of his neck. With his free hand, he grabs one of your knees and starts nudging your legs together again. He yanks your skirt down, “I know I’m always teasin’ ya but you can’t be doing this.”

“Jesus Christ, Joel,” you say with exasperation and move your legs out again, “It’s just very hot… and it’s not like you haven’t had a peek.”

“Hey now,” he leans forward to place the can of soda on the roof of the truck, “That ain’t a fair accusation.”

“I’m not accusing you of anything,” you reply, chewing on your bottom lip, “But you’re not denying it.”

“Don’t tryna make me look like the pervert here,” he scolds, taking a step towards you and causing your stomach to do somersaults, “I noticed the way you went real quiet when my hands were on you.”

“What do you mean?” You furrow your brows in confusion, “Your hands were never on m–”

“Did that bee sting really hurt that much?” He clarifies. Oh, you think whilst he smirks with triumph. Something has switched in the air surrounding you, the atmosphere has become more daring, “Yeah, I saw her; your pussy wet f’me.”

It’s true. If you think about it too much, you can still feel your heartbeat in the places where he touched you, and the pulse is rapid and overwhelming. You can’t imagine what it'll be like if he touches you underneath your dress, even if it’s simply on the outside of your panties. The thought has your underwear starting to dampen, the fabric starting to stick to you, and make you painfully aware of the wetness between your legs.

“Did ya touch yourself after?” His eyes have darkened slightly. His pupils are dilating with desire for your answer, and you nod hesitantly, overwhelmed by the need to tell him everything.

“During my shower that you told me to take,” you confess and hear him make a sound low in his throat at the mental image, “I couldn’t stop myself— I wanted you so badly. The thought of you inside me...”

This is a crossroad, you realize, you’ve said your deepest secret of depravity. On one hand, you can bolt out the door or you can make a move to show him what you really came down here for. The latter is risky but Joel is so goddamn decent that you know that if he doesn’t want this - which you doubt is the case at this point - he’ll gently reject you and never mention it again if it means that his daughter will continue having a best friend.

However, as your mind races with scenarios of what could or could not happen in this moment, Joel pulls you back into reality as his hand, cold from gripping the can, rests on your knee again but this time, it doesn’t try to make you decent like before. Instead, it slides up under your skirt in such a slow motion that you find yourself holding your breath.

“Is this what’ll quiet down that mind of yours?” He asks in a low voice, eyes flickering from your face to down between your legs and back again, “If I take a peek more to get it outta our system?”

“What are you doing?” You ask as if you do not know. It’s your turn to be scandalized by bluntness, and you find yourself gripping his arm but not hard enough to signal that you do not want him to continue. You hope that he realizes that this is not you rejecting his advances.

“I ain’t doing nothin’ that you haven’t already silently begged me to do. Perhaps sometimes - and God help me, I will probably regret it - you just needa follow your instincts when a pretty girl like you has been sendin’ me heart eyes all week,” he almost sounds annoyed with you, and to stop yourself from being scolded, your hand loosens its grip on him until you remove it altogether. He smiles, “Good girl.”

“You shouldn’t—“ you feel a rush of blood to your head, adrenaline kicking in as your thoughts circle around the repercussions that this can bring. In all honesty, you had only walked in here to have Joel’s eyes on you but now, you are getting more than you bargained for and it is making you so turned on that your mind is clear and foggy at the same time. Boldly, you sit up on the car’s hood so you can reach for the buckle of Joel’s belt, “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

“You’re damn right we shouldn’t be doin’ this,” he agrees immediately but doesn’t stop. His warm and rough palms skim further up your thighs until they settle by your hips, his thumbs teasing the elastic band of your panties. He starts to drag them down, the fabric nearly snapping in two when you barely register that you have to lift your ass to help him.

His fingers unintentionally caress your calves as he slides the underwear down to eventually pull them off your ankles and feet. The sensation makes your body wake up even more, a gush of wetness smearing your inner thighs and you know that you have to pull your dress up soon if you don’t want it stained.

In front of you, Joel reads your mind. He shoves the hem of your dress up as far as he can without a word with desperation in his trembling hands, and you move to let him bunch it up around your waist so he has a full view of what waits - and for long has waited - for him.

When your cunt is revealed to him, he groans like he is in pain at the sight of the slick shining on your soft youthful skin. You can see how hard he is in his jeans, cock straining against the zipper at the front of them.

He looks like he wants to touch but hesitates. The first sign of his inner conflict. You remember that he did say just a peek as if there’s an unspoken agreement that he is not to cross the line of touching what he shouldn’t want to have. It would definitely be a nuclear decision if he chooses to do it anyway. It makes you want it even more, and another gush spills from your glistening slit when you clench from excitement.

Joel swears under his breath, something that sounds like fuck it and it sets it in stone; he is going to ruin you for eternity right here on his car. He steps closer until your spread knees bump into his sides, and without saying anything you move to yank his jeans and briefs down, settling them around his hips with a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his fully hard cock. He is huge. So huge that your mouth starts salivating like you’ve already been fucked stupid and your walls try to clamp down on nothing. It’ll hurt. You want it to if it means that you won’t doubt if it ever happened tomorrow.

“Tell me you want this too,” he seeks your reassurance.

“So fucking badly, Mr. Miller— Joel,” you say without any hint of second-guessing in your voice. You scoot further forward on the car and lean back so he has better access, trying your best to be elegant in your messy state, “Please, want you in me.”

“Jeez, honey,” his breath shakes, “Already so eager. I haven’t even felt if she’s ready f’me.”

With one hand gripping your left thigh, he uses two fingers on his right hand to slide through your wet folds and you don’t think you have ever been this turned on for anyone; when he flips his palm upwards and shoves two fingers inside of you, you feel more arousal drip from your cunt and pool in his hand. The longing you have felt since you saw him for the first time finds somewhere to empty all its desire and desperation into, and you whine like you’re in a state of agony.

“Shhh…” he soothes and curls his digits inside of you until you think you might start crying, squelching cunt trying to pull him further into you as he fingers you lazily. Your gaze drops to how his cock twitches whilst standing in the air, “You’re grippin’ me so good, doll, can’t wait to fuck this pussy. Don’t cry like that. Be patient.”

“Please, I’m so—“ your palms are flat on the hood of the car, your mouth hangs open in ecstasy and you stare down at where his ring- and middle finger disappears repeatedly into you, “It’s yours, please.”

“I know it’s mine, don’t gotta say it, I know,” he coos at each of your whimpers, gets you worked up until you are just on the brink of coming, and then he moves quickly. He pulls his fingers out of you, smears his cock with what you’ve soaked his whole palm with, and leans over your gasping frame to nudge at your quivering hole.

When he finally enters you, the both of you gasp in unison. He struggles with it for a moment, rubbing the skin just below your belly button to make you relax because he is so much bigger than you had first anticipated, and such a tight fit that you think he might split you in two.

“Goddamn, you are tight,” he says through gritted teeth, “Feels fuckin’ amazin’.”

“Ah,” you feel like letting yourself turn into a drooling mess already, pulsating around him from the way your body struggles to take him, “Joel, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can, honey,” he encourages, showing no signs of pulling out of you to free you from the burn of his girth. He growls low in his throat as you struggle with it, and you know it’s because your walls are clenching around him as you involuntarily move, “Stay still, let her get used to it.”

“It hurts,” you whine, sliding slightly on the metal underneath your ass. He presses his hips forward even further and causes you to whimper but in doing so, he holds you firmly in place by using his strong frame.

“I know but ya just gotta relax,” he goes on. He places one hand flat on the hood of the car and then places the other right on your hip, thumb going inwards to find your clit. It pulses under his finger, trying to find out whether to find the pain delicious or not.

When his thumb starts going in circles on you, your thigh muscles start to twitch and flex from burning desire instead of uncomfortable pain. He presses down a little to stroke your sensitive nub with even more determination and smiles at his success when a moan slips from your mouth, “That’s it, honey. Just enjoy this until you’re creamin’ on me, and then I can fuck her real good.”

Your walls start to flutter a few seconds after the first new round of pleasurable sounds leave you, and the more his finger moves on you, the easier it gets to take him because the pain turns into nothing more than a dull ache in the background of ecstasy. He has you breathing faster and faster, and in return, he starts moving his thumb up and down to make his touches more direct.

God, your clit is hardening underneath his torment. He stares at what he is doing, an occasional grunt leaving him from how you involuntarily squeeze his length, and you know that he can sense it, suddenly smirking to himself as you near your climax. He admires the sight of you, eyes glued to the way the hood of your clit has drawn back, “Babydoll, look at that. Such a pretty pussy, clit peekin’ out and all. Does she wanna come on my cock?”

“Please, yes, oh please,” you nod repeatedly, mouth hanging open in an o-shape and breaths coming out in small puffs. Your climax is within reach, and Joel looks concentrated as he more than willingly hands it over to you whilst buried deep inside of you. The concentration on his face is probably from keeping himself from spilling inside of you too soon, but God, he looks gorgeous as he determinedly strokes your cunt.

“Yes, yes, yesyesyes— oh God, I’m… fuck, I’m coming!” You shake with pleasure as he causes your pussy to spasm, your hands barely able to find out what to do and making you grab at both the metal underneath you with one hand and his wrist with the other. Your eyes are squeezed shut but you do not doubt that he is staring at you in awe as you come so hard that reality fades.

“Good girl,” he rasps, voice unsteady and hand hitting the hood of the car as the feeling becomes overwhelming, “Oh sweetheart, you’re choking my dick so g—“

He swears quietly and then loudly, and suddenly, his cool demeanor crumbles because he is spilling his load inside of you with a pathetic and strained grunt. His hips stutter slightly and warmth spreads slowly inside of you, mixing with your own arousal.

You look down to where the two of you are connected, feeling fucked out despite not even having had the chance to feel him move inside of you. His come has started to spill from you already, dripping obscenely from your cunt.

“Fuck,” you hear Joel say above you. He slips out of you and leaves you gaping and mewling for a second, starting to take a step back. You catch him with your legs before he is too far away, and he reluctantly steps close to you again. He looks embarrassed but gives you a smile to hide it, “Felt too good, honey. This pussy’s makin’ me all sweet on you.”

“I’m that irresistible?” You grin in your post-orgasmic haze, not really giving a crap about the lack of a proper fuck from how much dopamine is coursing through your veins.

Joel takes hold of your thighs as they are wrapped around your body and lifts them off of himself, “You’re makin’ an old bastard like me weak in the knees, so maybe. Hah! Comin’ too soon like a goddamn teenager.”

“I liked it,” you admit without hesitation, still basking in the sweet afterglow, “Made me feel sexy and powerful.”

He scoffs but can’t fight the smile on his face, “Now now, don’t get cocky on me. Crawl back a little, spread ya legs f’me.”

You giggle and do as you are told, presenting yourself to him on the hood of his car. You plant your bare feet on the metal, lay back against the windshield, and smile.

“Now look at that,” he tuts as he admires his work; white ropes of come dripping down from your slit and onto the surface beneath you. He lays both hands flat on the car and leans forward, and before you know it, his mouth is covering your whole cunt and he eats from you like he’s paid to do it.

“Jesus,” you groan, throwing your head back and grabbing onto the roof of the car with one hand whilst the other finds Joel’s hair. You tug and he moans against you, sending vibrations through your whole lower body and beginning the first stirrings of another high. You don’t think that you can take it, squirming just like you had done moments earlier.

Joel makes a sound of disapproval. He scoops his arms under your thighs until he can lay his hands on top of them, holding you tightly against his mouth and causing you to cry towards the ceiling when he makes your second orgasm approach so quickly that nothing in your brain makes sense except what he is doing between your legs.

The hand on the roof of his car goes to his head too. You slide your fingers on both hands through his hair until they lay at the back of his neck, and then you yank once more at the curls there. His tongue works at your clit, swiping back and forth over it until you think that you might see God.

However, it doesn’t stay there. Instead, it is replaced by his nose so that he can eat his own spill straight from you by dipping his tongue hungrily inside of you.

“Joel— holy fuck, you’re incredible,” you close your eyes to concentrate on your pleasure. Who knew that the man could fuck with his tongue? He is warm and wet inside of you, slurping pornographically until you are clean of any remains of his come.

You are just about to finish a second time when he halts whatever he is doing. He pulls back only a few inches so you can still feel his uneven breaths against your cunt.

“No! Please,” your eyes fly open, you cry desperately, and throw your head forward dramatically. You want to thrash but he still has your legs locked in his arms, so you decide to pull out the big guns and hope for the best, “Please, Daddy! Pleasepleaseplea—“

“What the fuck did you just say t’me?” He looks up at you but you are too busy screwing your eyes shut in agony whilst whining for more. He growls and releases one of your legs, “I was already gonna make you a happy young lady but now, I’m gonna make you come so hard your little brain goes dumb. See how it feels. Impatient girl.”

His hand goes between your legs. He turns his palm upwards and then shoves two thick fingers inside of your pussy like earlier, curling them slightly and then pumping them so quickly that blood starts speeding through your system a second after and your heart rate goes so fast that you know that you are just about to come.

“Joel, oh my— fuck!” You whimper.

“Wrong word,” he replies.

You correct yourself immediately because there’s no way he is stopping again to chastise you once more, “Daddy, oh I— mhmm, I’m gonna come for you. Don’t stop, please, please Daddy, pleasepleaseplea—!”

He responds just how you had liked: He closes his mouth around your swollen clit and sucks hard, finally severing all connection to your brain and you come so hard that you actually squeal. Joel groans against you, feeling you squeeze the digits he has buried deep inside you. He draws back his fingers, pressing upwards the whole way.

Clear liquid squirts from you the second he pulls them out. The gushes that follow are so intense that the leg he isn’t holding anymore shakes so violently that the metal rattles under you, the car staining with your come. He repeats the move again and again, over and over, and watches the steady trickle down the hood and onto the concrete floor that turns a dark gray.

Euphoria courses through your being as you come in a way that you have never felt before. Your limbs tingle as warmth spreads out from beneath your belly button, your cunt pulses with eager pleasure, and you sob through the waves that crash over you without giving you time to recover from the last. The whole room feels brighter and its colors more vibrant.

“Shh, baby, let it happen, feels so good, don’t it? That’s it,” Joel coos at you the whole way through, guides you through it when you barely know how to use your words. He has straightened to his full height again but you don’t know when, and he has slowed his fingers down to tease out a few aftershocks. You whimper feebly at each one, and when Joel seems satisfied with what he has drawn out of you, he covers your whole mound with his palm to soothe the feeling of overstimulation that settles.

“Soundproof,” he mutters, once again reading your mind when you come to your senses again and start thinking about your noise levels with furrowed brows and eyes flitting from him to the garage door. Your heartbeat has started to slow again, and the relief of knowing no one has been able to hear you makes you slump against the windshield and breathe deeply.

The remnants of your orgasm have made you smile, your body slipping into a deep state of satisfaction when the anxieties have been dispelled. Joel moves his hand up your lower body until it settles between your breasts, still covered by your dress. He caresses your heaving chest, looking at you boyishly for the first time, “You good? Didn’t cause any brain damage, did I?”

“You think this truck has ever seen action like that before?” You joke breathlessly.

“Probably ain’t the first time I disappointed a gorgeous lady in its presence,” he says with an apologetic smile, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Disappointed? You’re insane,” you stretch your arms above your head to get some of the last bits of euphoria out of your body, trying to ignore the way he has just called you a gorgeous lady. He probably means nothing by it. As your stretch peaks, you moan gently, “I came two times. Hard. I’m not complaining.”

“Just saying that I woulda liked to do it… properly, I guess,” he talks as he stuffs himself back into his underwear and pants, most likely trying to feel the least uncomfortable about mentioning his overexcitement. Automatically, he steps back when you jump off the car to adjust your dress.

“This doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you try to act casual as you say it but there’s no way you are accepting the best sex of your life to be a thing you will never have again, reducing it to a movie merely playing behind your eyelids as a cruel reminder of what is unattainable.

“And when would we have time for that?” He asks, zipping up his jeans. He wipes his hands on them, “We can’t, honey.”

“We just did,” you mumble, picking up your underwear from the floor. You turn the panties in your hands, just about to bend down to put them on before deciding against it. Boldly, you stand in front of him and stuff your sticky underwear into his front pocket; closest to his crotch. There are extra pairs in your bag in Sarah’s room. He can have these.

He looks down briefly and then finds your eyes. His jaw clenches as he weighs his words, “When?”

“Aren’t you driving me to the airport on Sunday?” You smile and kiss his cheek, and then you leave him, your soda in hand and a mess on the floor.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[drvirgus]

hi; can i request a haerin one shot where you and the members of newjeans are task to babysit (like in the return of the superman where artists would appear to spend some time with the kids) and one of the kids have hearing disabilities and y/n can sign language and communicate with the kid through sign language and all of the members are impressed but haerin just fall in love with you more as she see you communicate with the kid to the point the kid were attach to you🥹 just hearin be like “thats my girl” - sorry if its too long hehe

I‘m so sorry that it took so long🥲 my laptop is broken but I wrote this fast chapter at work 🤔 hopefully you like it 🤞🏼

The Babysitters

Idol! Haerin X Idol! Reader

wc: 2k

a/n: the colored sentences are in sign language

————————————————————————————

With a sigh, I sat in the car, Haerin's hand in mine as I simply looked out the window. Danielle was the first to start laughing when she heard my sigh. "Oh, come on. I really don't understand how you can't like kids," Danielle said as she turned her head towards me. My attention now on Danielle, I replied somewhat annoyed, "Kids are just like drunken adults. Always have to watch out for them."

I immediately felt the pressure of my girlfriend's hand. Her head lifted from my shoulder to look at me better. "I always have to watch out for you when you're drunk," she said, which made Hanni and Minji laugh. I blush a little as I simply put my index finger to my lips and said, "Shh," making Haerin roll her eyes with a smile.

"Besides, we have a baby," I said, which made Hanni laugh again and nudge Hyein. Hyein snorted and I said, "Watching out for Hanni is already a hassle." Hanni looked at me with an open mouth, and Hyein immediately laughed and nudged her.

"It'll only take a day, Unnie," Minji said, looking up from her phone.

I just nodded, not wanting to discuss the topic further. I had complained enough already. Apparently, the others were quite satisfied with the show we would be shooting today.

"Can't we go back to the dogs? They're cuter," I said, which made Haerin nod. Her fingers played with mine, her head still on my shoulder. I smiled as I gave the younger one a gentle kiss on the head.

The rest of the car ride wasn't anything special. Hyein and Hanni watched some Instagram Reels together on Hyein's phone, Minji seemed to be texting someone, while Danielle simply looked out the window. Haerin and I were in our own little bubble, just playfully intertwining our fingers.

The car stopped, and our manager promptly opened the door for us. My hand immediately left Haerin's as I allowed myself to be pulled out of the car, of course, by Danielle.

Together, we entered the building, all eyes on the man in front of us who would explain everything to us. Naturally, he also told us the names of the children and that there was an age group from 2-year-olds to 5-year-olds. I nodded in understanding. Now, apparently, we were allowed to mentally prepare ourselves in the adjacent room while they prepared the set.

"Aw. No babies?" Danielle asked as she pouted and sat down on one of the chairs. Minji chuckled, her hands on her hips. "Babies would have been preferable to me too," the black-haired girl said. My eyes also immediately fell on Haerin, who stood in the completely different corner of the room, her eyes already fixed on me, which made me smile.

"And you? What would you prefer?" I asked, which made Haerin hum a little. She raised her head thoughtfully.

"I don't mind any," she replied after a short pause, which made me nod my head with a smile.

Immediately, Hanni and Hyein also voiced their preferences. The door opened, and we were now allowed to enter the room where the children sat, played, and laughed. Danielle squealed with delight, which amused me and made me shake my head in amusement.

All the children's eyes turned to us, and almost immediately, a boy approached Danielle and dragged her to the play blocks without even asking. I watched the younger one go and smiled a little. Danielle looked really happy. Besides, she was perfect for this job. She was always cheerful, unlike me. I was more... mostly always in a bad mood?

Minji clapped her hands, immediately grabbing the attention of some children. Minji smiled kindly. "Who wants to arm wrestle with Unnie?" she asked cheerfully, and almost immediately, several children jumped up from their chairs, raising their hands and shouting their names loudly.

I hated how loud kids could get, but... they were having fun, so that was okay. At least no one was crying. Hyein and Haerin also mingled and now interacted with the children, but I still just stood there, observing the whole situation.

Suddenly, I heard loud crying right next to me, and my eyes widened in shock as I looked at the young girl, her mouth wide open as she held her fists to her eyes and cried.

With my mouth hanging open, I looked at the crying child and slowly crouched down. A nervous smile on my lips, I asked, "What's wrong?" which seemed to only make the child cry more. Blinking rather surprised, unsure of what exactly I should do, I said, "Uh, everything will be okay. There's nothing dangerous here," trying to comfort the little one.

The girl pointed her finger at me and said, "This Unnie is angry," suddenly, and my eyebrows raised.

I heard Hyein laugh a bit, but she quickly was nudged by Minji warningly. I swallowed. "N-No, I'm not angry," I said, which apparently didn't help. Sighing, I took my hands and pulled my cheeks apart to make a funny face. "I'm just playful," I added with a feigned high-pitched voice. The girl seemed to calm down slowly, although she still had a bit of a hiccup from crying. Her eyes looked at me somewhat more curiously and then she started to laugh.

This is why I hate kids...

I smiled politely. "Do you want to... play with me?" I asked, visibly awkward, but the younger one didn't seem to notice. Her hand grabbed mine, and I really had to fight against myself not to pull my hand away, as she led me to one of the tables. A smile on her face as she placed me next to Hanni and sat herself next to a boy.

Apparently, this was the drawing table.

"These will be good pictures," Hanni said quietly, giggling. She meant the funny face I had just made. I immediately nudged her with my knee so she wouldn't bring it up again. Hanni just chuckled softly as she continued coloring her mandala.

My eyes looked at Minji, who seemed to be playing a monster, Haerin participating as a princess in the roleplay, protected by the children, and Hyein seemed to be reading to one of the children.

Then my eyes fell on a little girl who was reading a book all alone. My eyes narrowed immediately. "Is Unnie angry again?" the girl asked me, on the verge of tears. Panic widened my eyes, and I shook my head and hands frantically. "No, no," I said immediately, which seemed to calm the little one down. I breathed out in relief.

"How old do you think I am?" Hanni asked, smiling, pointing to herself. The boy looked at the girl next to him and then to Hanni. "100?," he asked, and Hanni leaned forward almost immediately, shocked. I chuckled softly, but I tried to suppress it desperately.

My eyes kept drifting back to the little girl who was reading all alone. "Hey," I said, "Hello? Little one?" I asked a bit louder, since she probably couldn't hear me over all the children's noise. The boy in front of Hanni looked at me. "It's no use. She can't hear anything," the boy said casually, but then he proudly lifted up his drawing and grinned at Hanni.

I nodded in understanding, forcing myself not to furrow my brow so the girl wouldn't cry anymore. I leaned closer to Hanni. "I'm going to go over to that girl there," I said, and Hanni immediately nodded her head. I focused my eyes on the little girl as I sat down on the floor in front of her.

Apparently, she hadn't noticed my presence yet, which made me chuckle a bit. So, I tapped on the book on her lap, right in her line of sight. Her brown shining eyes looked at me, her lips slightly parted. With her little finger, she pointed to her ear and then made an X sign.

I simply smiled. Luckily, I knew sign language because my mother had always been hard of hearing and it only got worse with age. "Is the book good?" I asked in sign language, and the girl's eyes widened even more. Her tense face immediately relaxed, and I heard her let out a sigh.

"Yes," she replied with a nod of her head. I smiled gently. "What is it about?" I asked as my eyes briefly glanced at the book and then back to the girl. I could tell that the set's camera was now focusing more on me thanks to the sign language which was surprising for some people. But the rest of the kids didn't seem to care much.

Haerin also looked at me, a broad grin on her lips, prompting Minji to nudge her. Haerin quickly corrected her expression. "It's about a princess who has to kiss a frog. He then becomes a prince," the girl said, which made me nod in understanding.

I chuckled slightly. "Do you want to play something with me? Or should I leave you alone so you can continue reading your book?" I asked patiently. Like Haerin, the little girl lifted her head and seemed to be thinking. I could feel my body relaxing as I waited for the younger one to respond.

"I want to play something," she said with a smile, and I stood up right away. With a smile on my face, I held out my hand to the little one, and she immediately took it. "What do you want to play?" I asked, tilting my head to the side. Once again, the younger one pondered.

"Catching ball. Daddy... never plays with me," the girl said, and I nodded in understanding. I could feel Haerin staring at me the whole time. Our eyes briefly met, and a smile spread across my face. Haerin looked rather proud. I quickly looked away when I noticed my cheeks slowly turning red.

So, I grabbed the ball and looked at the little girl. Slowly, I threw the ball, and she caught it. I clapped my hands in joy, even though she couldn't hear it, she could see it. She jumped up and down excitedly. Now, she was the one throwing the ball to me, and I caught it. Just like before, she clapped her hands, which made my grin even wider. I laughed, and this time, it was definitely genuine.

————————————————————————————

"Okay... it was sweeter than expected," I said as I made myself comfortable in the car, a gentle smile on my face. The door was now closed, and with a jolt, I felt Haerin's lips on mine. My eyes widened, but of course, I kissed my girlfriend back. Her hand on my face, pulling me closer to her.

"Hey. Not in the car," Minji said, and reluctantly, Haerin pulled away from me. She sighed and sat back down normally. I raised my eyebrows, as this behavior was unlike my girlfriend. She was usually more reserved and slower.

Danielle laughed, while Hyein looked amusedly at Minji. "Oh, come on. Let them be. Haerin did really well during the shoot," Hyein said, laughing. "Yeah, when Unnie started with sign language, Haerin almost started drooling," Hanni joked, and immediately, my head turned to Haerin.

"Was that why?" I asked softly, her fingers pressing against mine again. But Haerin just shook her head. "It wasn't about the sign language... it was... just sweet to see you with the child," Haerin answered softly. "Especially since you were smiling, even though you hate kids," Haerin added, her cheeks visibly flushed.

I smiled amusedly as I intertwined our fingers. Immediately, the younger one looked at me. My lips touched hers briefly, of course, otherwise Minji would complain again. "Home, okay?" I asked softly, and Haerin blushed even more. A small smile appeared on her lips, and she squeezed my hand. "Home," she confirmed.

"That's gross. Hyein, don't look," Hanni said, but she was still taking pictures with her phone. Until Hyein eventually photobombed her photos.

[sinofwriting]

listen, please - Daniel Ricciardo

Words: 316 Summary: Daniel and his girlfriend break the news of their relationship and cause quite a splash with their age difference. (Social Media AU + Blurb) (Olivia Rodrigo as faceclaim and uses her music for reader’s)

Masterlist | Support Me! | listen, please verse

yourusername

liked by dan_nigro, etnews, landonorris, and 548,752 others tagged: danielricciardo yourusername: I learned from my mistakes and finally listened to them. And thank god they were right about you.

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danielricciardo: forever happy they were ⤷ yourusername: ♥️ user01: excuse me??? user02: Uh what? user03: I’m sorry, Daniel??? What are you doing here??? user04: When did this happen? user05: honey, no. he’s in his 30s user06: well, already counting the days for this ending user07: this is going to last all of a month user08: yourusername please, no. Taylor went through this already. Learn from her mistakes!!! user09: Am I the only one picking up on the lyrics from Vampire? We stan using our own lyrics to announce a relationship user10: can’t wait for Dear John yourusername’s version. Gonna be a bop. ⤷ user05: I will sob if she covers that or would’ve could’ve should’ve when this ends. ⤷ user11: will simply die user12: i’m an f1 girlie, but no. This ain’t it. Mick Schumacher is right there, yourusername. Or even Oscar. ⤷ user13: Lando is right there and you went for the nepo baby and a guy who already has a girlfriend ⤷ user12: he was an example! And nearly all the drivers are nepo babies in some way. ⤷ user03: so true user14: how are you going to be such a big swiftie, know the woman yourself and still date a man older than you and believe it’s going to work out?

danielricciardo

liked by maxverstappen1, f1_wags, redbullracing, and 149,875 others tagged: yourusername danielricciardo: Over a year with this one and many more to come, Sweets

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yourusername: so many more to come ⤷ danielricciardo: 😉 maxverstappen1: never seen you happier ⤷ danielricciardo: love ya maxie! user01: first daniel isn’t racing and now he’s taken??? 2023 is the worst user02: daniel, she’s practically a child. What are you doing? user03: weirdo user04: she’s barely 20, what are you doing??? ⤷ user06: yourusername is 22. She’s not barely 20 ⤷ user04: yeah and she turned 22 like barely a month ago user05: Daniel, not like this. I beg user07: well him and pierre have something in common 😆 user08: she’s a baby!!! Get away from her!!! user09: disgusting. Absolutely disgusting user10: you guys are acting like she’s not an adult??? She’s literally in her twenties. ⤷ user04: and he’s in thirties. It’s fucking weird. user11: jail, sir. You go to jail now.

f1_wags

liked by user01, user02, user03, and 2,451 others tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo f1_wags: New WAG Alert! Daniel Ricciardo just announced his relationship with Y/N, a three time grammy winner and musician.

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yourusername

liked by dr3wines, zedd, charlesleclerc, and 462,345 others tagged: danielricciardo, dr3wines yourusername: Congrats on the new wine, Danny! Little sad that it will no longer be for just us and our baths together, but happy to see it be shared.

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danielricciardo: thank ya, sweets. danielricciardo: girl in the second picture is absolutely gorgeous danielricciardo: bath tonight? I’ve still got a few bottles ⤷ yourusername: I’ll always want a bath with you user01: why is his face on my feed user02: throwing up at their comments user03: well, this made me feel incredibly single charlesleclerc: another great wine. Thank you for convincing him to let me try it before the launch! ⤷ yourusername: of course!

user04: leave him!!!! He’s using you for free promo of his wine!!! user05: taylor must be pissed!

taylorswift

liked by yelyahwilliams, taylorlautner, yourusername and 2,873,421 others tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo taylorswift: Was a pleasant surprise to see these two when I stepped off stage tonight. Lovely to see you guys and will see you again for dinner next week!

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yourusername: not a single better performer. Watching is you magic every single time. And dinner will be fun! danielricciardo: amazing show! user01: taylor??? user02: i’m sorry what user03: my 2023 bingo card is in shambles user04: living rn. all of you fuckers were saying that taylor was disappointed and now look. She knew before we did user05: some many clowns staying silent in these comments user06: i was at this show!!! Wyd mean that yourusername was there?

daniel3.jpg

liked by landonorris, f1_wags, sourandguts, and 187,392 others tagged: yourusername daniel3.jpg: my two favorite subjects: you and us

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landonorris: do you two do anything but take baths for date night? ⤷ daniel3.jpg: we do. Just like our baths y’know user01: um, i’m sorry. But that last photo user02: lando is so real. This is the second bath photo we’ve gotten ⤷ user03: i don’t want that water bill user04: gross user05: how do you feel comfortable posting this with how young she is? ⤷ user01: you’re acting like she’s a kid. She’s in her twenties. Fuck off user06: am i supposed to just act like i don’t know now that daniel likes car sex??? ⤷ user03: i’m doing my best to not think about it user07: daniel, thank you for feeding us.

—

Daniel could feel his grin grow, eyes softening, and his shoulders loosening all at the sound of her name. It takes him a moment to register the question, but when he does his grin grows more.

“I wasn’t really expecting it, you know? But she’s just great, I mean absolutely fantastic.” “And the age difference isn’t an issue?” The reporter presses, though more gently than expected. He scoffs, shaking his head. “No, not all. We want the same things in life and we both have very similar timelines for when we want them. We talked about all of that before we even went on a date and us wanting the same things, just helped finally take the next step.”

“And has the backlash affected you two at all?” “No.” Daniel smiles at the confused look the reporter gives him, letting out a chuckle. “We knew it was going to cause a splash. We’ve never ignored the age difference between us. It’s there and ignoring it wouldn’t do anything.” He pauses, “I understand why people are so concerned, there is a history of large age gaps not being great. But there’s also a history of them working out great, I’ve got plenty of examples in my personal life. Besides, it's not really the age difference that matters, it’s where you're at in life and what you want to come next. We just happen to be in the same place and want the same things to come next.”

The reporter is looking at him stunned before they finally manage to find their voice. “Thank you, Daniel.” “Of course, cheers mate.” He winks, before throwing up a hand to wave at the camera before he jogs off, already knowing that he’ll have a text or two from her calling him a sap over his lovesick grin. And he’d hate to not see them as soon as they came in.

[your-absent-father]

Children in writing: my personal pet peeves

Okay, some might know that I work as an elementary school aid, done it on and off since I was 19, so I have the credits lol. Last december I even got my trade school papers for it. I preface this this way bwcause I have worked with shitton of kids, and will in a future. My background also means that I am very quick to notice when people don't interact with kids that much.

Even the savant syndrome kid is still a kid

One thing that annoys the hell out of me is when the 8 year old smart kid character acts like a 32 year old with all the emotional cababilities it entails. Yes, some kids have an higher intelligence, emotional or otherwise, but in the core of them, they are a kid. They get temper tantrums, they are in awe of new discoveries, they love to play in their own way.

For example, the class I'm in now, we have a kid I will call James. James is raised by his grandparents and it shows in everything he does. He is an old soul, always getting striaght As and almost helping the adults in conflicts. James also giggles as I race with him during recess, he sulks like a kid after not getting what he wanted and laughs really hard at fart jokes. He is 8 even if he has an emotional intelligence of an older kid.

Children are sponges, in bad and good

Speaking of James, he is a great example of children being sponges. This 8 year old, he uses terms like "gosh darn it" or "welp, it is what it is", terms I could see his farmer grandpa using. When he is stressed, he poses like a 73 year old looking at a broken tracktor. You can see his grandpa in him clearly.

I want to say it because a lot of people only write like "I am bad because my dad was bad" characters, even though it isn't that simple moat of the time, and children being sponges could be used in so many different ways, and not just bad.

Kids knowing big words doesn't always mean they are smart

This adds into the "kids are sponges" segment. Lot of kids, especially now, pick up different words, some very difficult, but they themselves don't know what they mean. Just today I had to explain what a dictator meant to a kid talking about North Korea. (That is an other thing too I like to add: kids try to explain with their own understandkng of the world what things they don't understand are)

Children's are adults in progress

Thus is a thing that peeves me the most of all, because a lot of people think children are thing entire different entity than adults. I like to explain it in videogame logic, like as a kid you are doing the first levels and progressing trough. You still the same character at the core of it, you just leveled up and got new tricks up your sleeve. Children are humans, they aren't that difficult to comprehend.

kids with disabilities have presonalities

Omg I am such a passionate person towards this, especially because I am specialized in special ed. It annoys me in no end when a special ed kid's presonality is "ehh they are disabled?". Every single special ed kid I have been with have different personalities and likes and dislikes, if they can't show it to you themselves. I don't think I have met two disabled kids (nor adults) with same personalities, even if they have exact same disability.

In the class I am in now, James's best friend is this kid named Jackie. I don't know Jackie's diagnosis but she can't walk straight, and uses multiple walking aids when her legs hurt too bad. She can't talk very well, struggling with her speak. Still, those things weren't the first thing I'd use to describe her. I'd describe her as a dramaqueen, always ready to complain about something, i'd describe her as a sporty, always running after her friends, even if she is much slower than others. I'd describe her as kindhearted, and clingy as she is always ready for a hug. Her disability is n intergal part of her but not everything.

I could complain about this all day. I have worked with kids and adults with disabilities and they have all been do different from each other (like able bodied people). Maybe another post lol.

Okay rant over.

Tldr: Chldren are humans too. Lol

[chrisevansonly]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤 | 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

✯social media au/fic

✯carlos sainz x lawyer!female reader

✯being a lawyer for scuderia ferrari is fun, hiding another big secret from the team is not

✯this was another request i got that i loved! being a law girly myself i knew i wanted to get this request out because WE LOVE WOMEN IN LAW & we love some Carlos🤭

yninstagram

liked by scuderiaferrari, wagsoff1, carlossainz55 and 765,000 others

a whole lotta red for another day at the track, let’s see if I can keep our boys out of trouble this weekend🏎️

tagged scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc and carlossainz55

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username LADY IN RED IS BACK!!!!

username out favourite team lawyer 🫶🏻

scuderiaferrari welcome back y/n!!♥️

>yninstagram happy to be back, best place in the world!!

username hehehehe i see that pic of carlos y/n

charles_leclerc can swear i’ll be on my best behaviour 😁

>landonorris sure mate

>yninstagram what lando said

>charles_leclerc YOU HAVE NO FAITH IN ME

username charles is fighting for his life😭

carlossainz55 happy you’re back again♥️

liked by yninstagram

carlossainz55 added to their instagram story

*comments disabled*

-

Your eyes watched Carlos move throughout your office in Ferrari’s hospitality motorhome, checking out the little trinkets you kept on your cabinet, the photos; his favourite being the one of you two in Monza last year. Working as a lawyer for scuderia ferrari had been a dream come true, the feelings you’d harboured for the spanish driver only a bonus to the euphoric feeling you had walking onto the track for race weekends.

“what are you looking for exactly?”

Carlos hummed

“Nothing, just wanted to look around…see you”

“You’re getting brave coming to see me at work, last night wasn’t enough?”

He turned to face you, a smirk on his face

“nunca es suficiente para mí” (nothing is ever enough for me)

-

carlossainz55

liked by charles_leclerc, vogueitalia, yninstagram and 1M others

the team takes maranello 🫡

tagged charles_leclerc and yninstagram

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username Y/N LOOKING FINE AS USUAL

username heheh carlos wanted to slip that photo inside…

username carlos + y/n & then third wheel charles

liked by charles_leclerc

charles_leclerc dream team ❤️

>yninstagram per sempre 🫶🏻

carlossainz55 ❤️

liked by yninstagram

username 😏😏

-

A warm breeze filtered in through the hotel room you shared with Carlos, he didn’t give you an option not to be together as you visited Maranello with him and Charles for some contract negotiations. Truth be told spending this much time with each other had been such a dream for you, although you still kept things on the low, you knew you loved him so much, and hopefully he loved you too.

“What are you thinking about…?”

You shrugged looking at Carlos as he rested beside you

“Nothing nothing just enjoying tonight”

“dime por favor cariño” (tell me please baby)

Sighing you leaned up onto your elbow so you could see him better, his attention solely on you as he brushed a strand of hair back

“I was thinking-um thinking about how I love you..”

Carlos was silent, your heartbeat picking up as you worried maybe you should have kept it to yourself

“Say it again please”

“te quiero carlos” (i love you)

A smile erupted on his face as his arms pulled you into him, his lips finding yours to press a firm kiss to your lips

“te quiero mucho” (i love you so much)

-

yninstagram

liked by carlossainz55, wagsoff1, lilyhme, charles_leclerc and 1M others

tired of hiding my favourite view & person♥️

tagged carlossainz55

see 99,000 comments

username MY FAVOURITES YES

username IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS!!!

username isn’t this a conflict of interest…?

>scuderiaferrari we don’t think so, y/n has continued to work hard and keep her personal and professional life separate😊

>yninstagram im adult enough to know if it becomes an issue to find a solution :)

username YES FERRARI AND Y/N SETTING THE RECORD STRAIGHT

charles_leclerc took long enough 🙃

>yninstagram so i’ll pretend like you didn’t break our cover multiple times?

>charles_leclerc yep😁

carlossainz55 te quiero mucho♥️

carlossainz55 added to their story

a/n: okay do we like this format? i thought it was cute but also i don’t know, im my own worst critic😭

[maximumkillshot]

Home

Warnings: There are a lot with this one and it hits close to home. Mentions of S/A. The R word is used, sobbing, anxiety and mental episode. mentions of self harm, mentions victim blaming and slut shaming. MDNI. There is fluff spattered around.

Pairing: BangChanxReader

Characters: Bang Chan, Reader, mention of the person who S/A, people Slut Shaming and Victim Blaming. 

A/N:  Okay so this one is heavy. The things you are about to read have happened to me. I had a mental episode a while back. I wrote most of this during said episode. This is what I think Chan would do for his S/O if they went through and go through what I did. This blog has always been a safe space. I use my fictions to entertain as well as a platform to have safe conversations. If you need me as always I will hang around after drop.

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ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

“YN?” Your husband called out to you. You couldn't hear him from the pressure of today. It created a seething pool of frustration and anger as you kneeled at the foot of the bed, wanting to pray, but now that you think about it the pain of being on the floor was a sweet torture in and of itself. 

Usually, anger like this wouldn't be a problem for you. You would go down to the basement and punch granite with your poorly taped hands, yes you were only a kid then, not knowing how else to get the anger out only stopping when you'd hear a crunch. Yes, that was the start of negative coping mechanisms, and yes you are trying to either bury that anger or let it consume you fast before Chris gets home. He's dealt with enough, we don't need to add on to it.  

Now you're no longer a child… as a matter of fact, you are now an adult, an adult with a hairpin trigger vaguely yet expertly disguised as comedic sarcasm. Depression that you don't remember not having… maybe when you were 8? You weren't sure. Not to mention a cast made of a myriad of physical and mental health issues…. Disabilities… and the cast of characters just keep growing! You have the medicine and the “coping techniques”, they called it, for success! Even those fail. 

Trying to talk it out just made you more angry, the injustice looking more and more ludicrous by the second. Okay, let's try breathing. Yeah no. That didn't work either, it just gave your brain more oxygen, so your brain went from quantum computer speed to Sonic the fucking Hedgehog. Oh… ok oh oh! Let's try soundboarding. You know, talk to people, not yourself. That ended in yet another game of useless catch phrases like “calm down” and “you shouldn't be thinking of that.” 

TELL ME SOMETHING I DON'T FUCKING KNOW THANK YOU! Oh, and I almost forgot the “Your method of thought isn't changing because you don't want to change '' DO YOU THINK I AM POKED ALL DAY AND SAY TO MYSELF…

‘OH I WANT TO FEEL MORE LIKE SHIT… I KNOW LET ME RUN MY FACE INTO A BRICK WALL OF ANXIETY REPEATEDLY UNTIL I CAN'T CONTROL MYSELF ANYMORE.’

You reverted to hurting the people around you due to your anger and frustration, plus you darkened the mood, you've always been a multitasker. My friends were right. I'm depressing, I was only kept around because of my ex. That was before they kicked me out… because they didn't want to believe he assaulted me. You go back to that night often… 

“I didn’t want to do that, I felt icky” You told him after he came back from cleaning himself up in the bathroom, while you were left to clean the traces of himself from your own mouth. No aftercare, no thought about you. The ghost of a boy who used you, who was an on and off friend of almost 10 years…

“I know.” he answered with no emotion.

“Then… why?” You asked, your head cocked to the side.

“Because I really wanted it.” He puts his hand on your shoulder, “But I’m sorry you feel that way. Shit now I feel bad.”

Then it switched to those friends, on another night… “ I just don’t buy it. That DID NOT HAPPEN, I know him better than you.”

“I mean you did it anyway so you must’ve wanted it.”

You tried to explain that you were assaulted, it’s called coercive consent and it’s the most common form of assault. You were raped. You didn’t want to do it and he knew that but you wanted to make him happy. You tried to explain, to educate. They weren’t having it.This conversation at times whirls in your head. Making you itch to pull a trigger, do something to make the torture stop.

“You always overreact and you’re so annoying why don’t you just go the fuck away!”

“You’re so depressing just fucking go away! We only tolerated you because you are his girlfriend, just go the fuck away!” The intent in her voice. The reality. You trusted her most out of the entire group. She helped you emotionally… Now shaming you, blaming you.

Her boyfriend rendered you speachless when you called it what it was, it was rape via coercive consent:

“Oh I get the kind of person you are, you’re the type of person who gets felt up in the middle of the night by their significant other because they’re trying to get laid and you call it rape.”

You know the right method to take now, right… Yeah you do.

Isolate… process… torture yourself…cry… alone. Contain the monster, so it doesn't hurt anyone else… You're just a monster parading as a human. Don't forget it. This happens when you forget Y/N… stop being reckless. Always so fucking reckless… 

You started clenching your hands one over the other, wanting to rake the top of your hands until they bled, trying to ground yourself. Until subconsciously, you did. You rocked as you did it, trying to soothe yourself.

Sometimes you swear people don't see you drowning right in front of their fucking eyes. You know how to swim, you know how to get out, to scream, punch, fight. You want to swim, you really do. But you can only do so much in a rip current. The lifeguard sees you. But instead of helping they yell “PADDLE! JUST PADDLE YOU'LL BE FINE!” It's a different level of patronization. It just makes you want to let the tides swallow you. Because why fight when the waters are so warm?

“Y/N?!” Chris yelled as he saw your bag tossed haphazardly on the couch, never where you put it. He stopped and listened carefully. He thought back to the last text you sent him. “Shit hit the fan at work …I don't want to feel right now. I'll see you at home.” 

That middle sentence made his heart stop. He knows you… something was up. He tried texting you back, sending words of encouragement, calling, and leaving cute messages when you didn't pick up, and nothing was heard from you. As soon as he could get away from schedules he did. When he looked at the clock you had sent that message three hours beforehand, he never raced home faster. 

He knows what your mind does to you. He sees the battles every day. When he’d compliment you and you would look down, not shy, but contradictory. When he’d pick you up you would freeze and he’d remind you that you aren’t too heavy, that he loves you in every single way that you think is impossible to love you. He’d always encourage you to wear what you want, do what you want. He would caress every single curve, never being able to keep his hands off of you. Whispering into your ear in public as he tilts your head up gently after asking for permission. He’d kiss you so delicately in front of a sea of people. On the red carpet, on stage, it didn’t matter. You were and are his person, and he loved showing you off. He couldn’t win the war in your mind for you, but he damn sure would fight those battles with you.

He would fight away those negative thoughts, he’d wrap his arms around you and sing to you to will those images, the anxiety and fear away. Until those thoughts were rendered useless. He’d wrestle with them for control, as soon as he won your mind back he gave it to you. He reminded you that you are here with him for a reason. He adores you, and nothing would change that. 

It was something he promised you when he saw you breakdown while doing your medicines. You told him that you were ashamed of it all. All the illnesses, that you weren’t perfect and that you’d understand if he didn’t want you. He looked at you and helped with your medicines, learned about each of them, and their dosages. He was so gentle, smiling at you, wiping your tears. He looked at all the medicines and said, anything that keeps you alive is nothing to be ashamed of. You aren’t something to be ashamed of. He knows that sometimes you can’t hear him until he’s right in your ear. Now looked like that case.

You couldn't hear him calling out to you, your mind too loud, too vicious, bloodthirsty. When pain and self-deprecation are your main moods, all others seem like an abnormal concept. Something that is stolen, was it even real in the first place? You know one thing that was real… Chris. You hated being this… the medications, the constant fires in your mind, the barrage of hate aimed at yourself, of unbridled strength turned inward to rip yourself apart for no reason other than things piling up. He didn't deserve that. He deserves peace, the best… just like what he demands of himself, perfection. 

You got through the gauntlet at your job. People undermining your authority, people on a power trip of their own. Sending others to try to intimidate, embarrass you into submission… as if you weren't a bloodthirsty wolf that could snap any second, biting their heads clean off. “An Alpha through and through,” that's what Chris would say, “Even Alphas have to bite their tongue, Love.” 

That made you cry more because at this point you don't even know if your tongue is still existent, or if you swallowed the damn thing after you bit it off. Or worse… you still have it… but you lost your voice. You know that can't be it, we're too fucking stubborn for that.

But the hits didn't stop coming, traffic happened, then going to the doctor who said that the physical therapy you needed would eat into your personal time, your time to write, to cook for Channie and the boys, to spend time with Channie and the boys.. then you forgot the doctors note so you had to walk back in for it. Then you had to go home while you tried to talk about everything… and well now here we are. 

Even now you try to problem solve, try to nitpick at yourself, the person he loves so much. You collapsed more on the floor of your shared bedroom, cross-legged thinking of the ocean, the violent, dangerous, tumultuous ocean… something simultaneously so beautiful and scary. You want to say you are like an ocean, but you don't see beauty in yourself, only a beast. That's all we'll ever be.

Chris freezes in the hallway hearing a sob break loose from you. He hadn't heard a sob like that before, it chilled his core. How does he approach this? He sees the doctor's note thrown next to your purse… He was happy you were approved for physical therapy, you really were in a lot of pain daily from the muscle and tendon weakness, but he looked at the times…

He looked to the hallway, “Oh…Baby Girl.” He had one piece of the puzzle. He knew you loved to cook for him and the boys but this schedule meant you couldn't do that for the foreseeable future. You enjoyed seeing the boys eating, and staying fueled, knowing without that they'd opt for less healthy options. Then he saw the paper right under it. A typed log… a leger of interactions throughout your day… “No…” 

Right there, in black and white, was what you went through today, everything down to the sarcastic smirk your coworker had as you were barraged with pressure to break the rules… and you didn't break. He never would've expected you to. You are the strongest person he knows. Even under these conditions, Chris himself would break. In front of fifty plus people being berated, pushed to do something you knew you couldn’t do. 

Right at the end of it was a line, written in plain ink by hand. “Vacation not given as described by supervisor. No week off.” With tear stains smudging the ink. 

Chris started walking down the hall to the shared bedroom. As he walked closer he heard you mumbling as you sobbed. Things like “stop crying” and “it's nothing.” But one made him freeze right before he opened the door, “Chris is going to worry. You already take too much from him, get it together so he won't worry. It’ll hurt him. Stop hurting the people you love. You’re a monster.”

That made his eyes sting, you were worried about him above all else. He slowly opened the door and you couldn't find it in you to look up. You knew who it was. The aura you know and love, like salve on the holes you ripped into yourself. The small steps were only weighed down by his sneakers as he slowly spoke. 

“Hey…Baby Girl?” The tone was even more soothing. We don't deserve that. “Can you look at me please?” You just shook your head. Too embarrassed at the shambling mess you are. The real you that you hide. 

Before you knew it you saw two big hands undoing the laces on his sneakers, shortly after he toed them off. Slowly he sat in front of you groaning “Oooooookay criss-cross applesauce it is…” making you smirk as you wiped your nose with the inside of the collar of your shirt. Finally, as he settled he said “aaaaaughh” with a big puff of air… 

You just tucked your head into your chest as you hid as much as you could. He waited for a few minutes, until he said, “We can address what happened in a few minutes. But you need to know. You don't take from me.” 

Your tears kept falling as you listened, his tone calming the raging currents in your mind.

He looked at the engagement and wedding band on your left hand. He watched the tears fall, he saw the holes in you. He wanted to lunge at you, take that emotional knife away from you, smother you in affection. Hold you, his heart burned for it. Needle and thread ready to patch you up. To heal you.

 He spoke softly, “You are my everything, Y/N. You aren't a burden, a disappointment, you aren't a chore, the only thing you took from me was my heart, but you had that before I even heard your voice. The second I saw you… I gave it to you. I don't want it back either.” 

You hiccuped breaths as you listened. He scooted a little closer and he put his hands out, palm up into your vision… asking for your hands. That was when you realized you were scratching at them again. 

You unfurled them from one another, hissing where one nail was slightly deeper, the tiny droplet of blood following soon after.

He looked at your hands, humming in the back of his throat, “One second.” He didn’t want to show it, but he was worried. You feel so much and he just wants to be there to hold you, to love you. 

Then popped up and left. He came back with a first aid kit, “Oooooookay heeaarr we goar again... criss-cross.” That made you giggle the tiniest bit. Chris always loved to hear your laugh. Your laugh is infectious and it always never fails to brighten his day. He knew he was making progress.

You couldn't see it but Chris was smirking at your tiny cute form. And hearing that little giggle made him want to channel Changbin and squeal at the cuteness overload. 

“Okay my Koala Bear… hands.” When you both had started dating, he noticed you always hung on to him. You explained that he was warm and you were always frozen, especially in the colder months. You asked if it was okay for you to hold on to him like that. Internally he was trying his best not to giggle like a school boy at the prospect of you holding on to him like this naturally. He looked at you and said, “It’s no problem, you just remind me of a Koala Bear, so cute and tiny. Can I call you that? My Koala Bear?” And you nodded blushing. Since then, you’ve been his Koala Bear. 

You presented your hands to him wincing at the stretch of the new scratches and he said “So tiny… so cute. Okay tiny sting” he cleaned the bigger scratch and put a bandage on it, and checked the rest. Once he deemed it all good to have your hands back. He kissed them then returned them to your lap. “Thank you for letting me clean them.” 

You nodded and hummed. The voices slowed down. They always slowed down around him. He always was your safe place. Like home base in a baseball game. If you made it there, you’re safe. You’re home. That thought made you sad, surprisingly. How are you safe with only one person? You should have security in yourself not in someone else. Your brain was waiting to start assaulting you again. 

“Is it loud in there?” Chris asked. You've told him about all of this before, this is the first time he's seen it this bad though. The voices, memories attack you. You explained to him that sometimes your brain will do this, you try to hold it back but sometimes it just can’t be helped.

“Mhmm”

“People don't help… right?”

“mhmm”

“Can you tell me what's going on in there?”

You told him. Some.. not all. You also told him about that pesky intrusive thought about your ex and your friends. 

His body went rigid as he said, “No… they're the ones that are wrong, not you. Your ex…” He wanted to choose his words carefully. He knew that you blame yourself at times. The memory of you explaining why you were hesitant to go further when you were dating. He assured you there was no pressure. That he loved you for you, the rage boiled in him and it still does because you were never at fault for this. Especially when you trusted that asshole enough to experiment with him. He was going to be your first for everything but after what he did. The trust was gone, rightfully so.

Chris continued, “He took advantage of you, and coerced you into consent, that is not love. That is not okay? That is sexual assault. The way that your friends acted was disgusting, the way he acted was sub-human… You are not depressing, you are one of the most beautiful, talented, funny, caring, loving people I have…” his voice gave out and he cleared his throat, “You are one of the most amazing people I've ever met in my life. I love you so much and I know you feel like you're a burden on me but being with you has been the most amazing thing I've ever experienced.”

He tilted your head up and you let him, he had tears in his eyes as he said, “You have never been nor will you ever be a monster.” Your tears picked up as you looked into his eyes. You could tell, Chris doesn’t lie. He’ll tell you the truth. His tears started falling as you leaned forward, reaching for him, needing contact. When you saw him you needed his warmth, you need him to heal you. You were losing hope, faith, everything as you watched the holes in you. Seeing him holding the needle and thread. By holding you, being with you, just being himself, it heals you. You whimpered, “Need you…” As your tears switched from self-hate to desperation… you needed him and he could tell. 

He untangled his legs and scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he rocked you petting your hair back, “You are my inspiration, my eternal love, you are the best part of my past, my present, and my future. You are the future mother to my children, the woman I'm going to grow old with, my forever and always. You are my Y/N, and I am never going to let you forget who you are and why I love you, okay?” He started crying, shielding you in his chest, protecting you. Stitching you together as you heard his heartbeat. You cried on him, relieved that you were with him.

You pulled back from him nodding. He tried to kiss your lips but you said “I'm all snotty” and he giggled. Leave it to you to be worried about snotty kisses. You looked so adorable, cheeks and nose red, nose running, tears stopping, the twinkle coming back into your eyes as he looked at you. 

“Are you denying me my snotty kisses?” He giggled as he said “Okay fine. There's no snot on your forehead” he pecked your forehead, “none on your cheeks”, and laid another peck, this pattern continued for any expanse of skin he could get his lips on as you giggled at him and his barrage of affection. When he stopped he wiped your nose with his sleeve and he kissed you gently on the lips. He savored moments like this, being able to heal you, to pick you up. He looked into your eyes as he said, “now I am thinking I’ll draw up a bath for us and I’ll give you a nice massage. After that we order take away, from your favorite place, then we watch something, Hm?” He looked at you for an answer as he kept wiping tears.

You nodded and gently, he placed you back where you were and went to get the bath ready. You'll always have hard days, but those days turn into amazing nights with Chris. Your home.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

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[physalian]

Content Warnings for Original Books

Can we please encourage content warnings for smut and other triggering topics in published literature? This needs to be a thing. Everyone bashes fanfiction for being fanfiction, but I’ve never seen a fanfic where the smut or trigger warnings weren’t tagged to high heaven somewhere in the description or in the opening author’s note.

AO3, compared to FFN, even has a specific “mature” rating just for sex—”E”—that FFN didn’t have. FFN had nervous authors throwing objectively mild content into the “M” rating (e.g. "rated M to be safe"), which meant that if you wanted to read a story that was a little bit violent, you had to turn off your filters as a kid and sift through all the smut just to find that one smut-less, but violent, fic.

When I was a kid in my early FFN days, I was probably exposed to way more stuff I shouldn’t have been reading because I had to disable the mature filter, just so I could read so-called “graphic violence” from pearl-clutching authors. I’d be looking for that one action-adventure fic that happens to have a little murder in it, and sift through fifty pure-smut summaries that ranged from vanilla to straight BDSM—of which had a high chance of being incredibly unhealthy, but you wouldn’t know that at 10, 11, 12 years old.

Fanfic authors, especially when the fanfic platform gives them the freedom to tag, are very clear to let you know just what you’re getting into.

—

I doubt I need to explain what a content warning is on Tumblr, but I will anyway. A content or trigger warning is a heads up at the beginning of a work of media that there are some elements not meant for younger audiences, or for sensitive audiences, or for people who have experienced situations depicted in traumatic ways, or for people who just don’t want to consume media with such content.

In film, this is obvious. If it’s rated R, you generally know what to expect. Generally. Because an R rated film could be R because of anything from profanity to graphic sex/assault and torture scenes. The MPAA rating system is garbage and ‘harsh language’ is not nearly on the same tier as sex in terms of what we should expose our children to.

Before streaming like Amazon as a platform to get around cable censorship rules, you had premium networks like HBO for all your adult content, and then some shows greenlit on smaller networks like AMC—never on ABC, CBS, TNT, etc. HBO wasn’t only for adult stuff, I used to watch Crashbox all the time.

That was the place you went for media that circumvented foul language, violence, and nudity rules in America. It kind of came with its own built-in content warning by virtue of being on those networks, and even then they still give warnings for shows on HBO, Showtime, Starz, etc.

At the start of every episode, you either get a full screen from Starz with the little icons for profanity, nudity, violence, etc, or it would be up at the top around the episode's title. You'd know exactly what you were getting into.

—

In a fanfiction, because I’ve never seen one in an original book, much less for generic vanilla sex scenes, this is what we’re all familiar with:

A/N: Trigger warning! This story contains mentions of rape/non-con. Turn back now, don’t like don’t read.

They also tend to appear at the top of the chapter that contains said scene to double down on the warning, or will, upon completion, include which chapter or chapter section to skip in the work’s summary or opening author’s note. In the old FFN days, there might even be a 4th wall break mid-chapter. Though the terminology we use over the years shifts, we still manage to get the point across.

Like, if I turn off all the filters on AO3 trying to browse for tags and underloved characters that may be lumped in with stuff I’d rather not read, I’ll see tags like “DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,” which was not a thing in FFN days, even if FFN had allowed things like tags.

While it’s easier to tell in movies due to that shitty-but-functional rating system, that’s not really the case with fiction books. With books, I know the genre, and I know the intended audience age group. If I pick up a book in the children’s sci-fi section, I know it’s going to be something about robots or space or the future and our characters are going to be about twelve years old.

If I pick up a YA thriller, I know I’m going to have a cast of sixteen-to-twenty-somethings and there’s going to be some violence, very vanilla cussing or the author’s own slang, and probably some murder.

Adult or new adult romance—Sex. At least one scene guaranteed.

The problem is that unlike films and TV shows, we don’t get a breakdown for books on what to expect and the nature of those scenes. There’s no little ‘R’ sticker on the back cover and there’s certainly no little insert between chapters to let you know what’s coming next. There's no "trailer" I can read to get a sense of your tone.

So if I’m in the mood for a new adult supernatural romance novel and I have to sit through a vanilla sex scene, that’s fine, that’s what I’m reading it for. But if Mr. Badboy is incredibly aggressive and dominating and being an asshole with very dubious consent, that’s different (although, objectively determining what is and isn't 'dubious' is mighty difficult).

Should I still expect that I take my fluffy or angsty romance with a fat grain of salt just in case?

What happens if it’s not a romance novel, but I get a surprise rape scene as my character’s Tragic Backstory? What if it’s an adventure novel? Spy thriller? High fantasy or historical fiction or murder mystery? If there’s no indication in the genre, summary, or by the style of the cover that I’ll have to read about two characters getting it on?

Some people don’t want to read your characters in all the nitty gritty details. They really like everything else about your book, they just don’t want to read a sex scene, and they really don’t want to be super invested, hundreds of pages and even years of series dedication in, and be massively turned off by smut.

It doesn't need to be this big to-do or hyperdetailed like fanfic. In my upcoming book, I had beta readers with personal and moral objections to some of my themes. From then on, I made sure to ask up front so I didn't trigger my betas.

ENNS is about vampires. I haven't settled on what my content warning page might look like or how exactly I want to phrase it, but it might read something like this:

Dear readers, this is a content warning for graphic violence and adult themes. This book contains mentions of assault, self-harm, and suicide. Please be warned that these themes are present and prevalent in this story and readers should take the utmost care for yourselves when approaching this book. Thank you.

Something like this, just a quick, lighthearted heads up for your novel would suffice:

Dear readers, this book ain’t for kiddies! Be prepared for some adult themes and suggestive romance between characters.

I'm definitely not in the camp of pearl-clutching suburban conservatives, but if I'm browsing for a new novel for my tweenage bookworm and I opened up a book with an intriguing summary, and saw that warning? I'd be much happier with the author for their consideration, instead of buying it blind for my kid. You have no idea why someone wouldn't want to read a sex scene. They might be prude, or they might be a survivor just trying to enjoy a new book.

Because romance and sex is taken for granted, most people are at least going to be open to the possibility of sex, but not everyone will be expecting it or wanting it or think it warranted. It’s not spoilery, it’s not revealing some surprise plot twist, it’s a kind and considerate gesture for those members of your audience who just don’t like sex scenes. And heck, maybe they don't want to read it right now, but they'll remember you and pick your book back up later because you tried.

—

TL;DR: I don’t mind smut. When done well.

There’s a reason romance such a compelling story and why it dominates fanfiction and original works leagues ahead of all other plotlines.

But it still needs a content warning, even if you think it’s obvious, or spoilery, or patronizing. Because if I’m not in the mood for it, it just drags and I want to put the book down instead of reading all your hard work to completion.

[heavyhitterheaux]

Hear My Heart

AN: everyone deserves to be loved no matter what

Synopsis: You've had a disability since you were eight years old and never knew if true love would ever exist for you until you met someone named Jack

Pairing: Jack Harlow x Hearing Impaired!Reader

Requested by: my ✨️ anon 💖

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You were startled by your manager Denise tapping you on your shoulder as you were trying to make sure everything was ready for the night for whoever the guest performer was. You didn't bother to look at the flier or any of the advertisements, but everyone seemed to be excited. Scrolling through your phone an hour ago, you saw that the performer would be Jack Harlow and he would have a mini residency for the next three weeks in Miami.

You were excited and didn’t stop talking your ear off to your best friend McKenzie ever since you found out.

Of course she looked at you dumbfounded but remembered that you had been living under a rock for the past two months. 

As you looked up, Denise's mouth was moving, but when you didn't respond, she immediately rolled her eyes and that's when you turned your hearing aids back up to hear her.

"Pumpkin! You have got to stop turning down your hearing aids!" She exclaimed while throwing her hands up in the air. 

This wasn’t the first time and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. 

"It was getting too loud." You said while shrugging as you looked around at multiple people who were also setting up for the night.

"You do realize you work in a nightclub, correct? There's bound to be some type of noise. And what if there is an emergency when you do that?!"

Denise was your Godmother and your mother's best friend and the two of you were inseparable just how they were when they were younger. Your parents were hesitant about you leaving home in Georgia and living on your own in a completely different state and environment and only allowed you to go if you lived near your Godparents and worked at their nightclub.

The parents were not taking no for an answer

You knew to be careful, you felt like your hearing was fading by the day and soon you wouldn't be able to hear at all.

Doesn't really work out well for people who dream of being a performer.

So this is the closest that you would get to making that a reality.

You were a local favorite who would perform covers as well as original songs every Friday. Everyone knew you and loved your voice and it took your mind off of the reality of what was to come. It had been awhile since you did it, but was thinking of getting back into it soon.

Besides, you didn’t know how much longer that you would be able to hear. 

But day in and day out, you would stress your Godmother out to no end and she never let you forget it. 

"I'll keep them turned on for the rest of the night to make you happy." You answered while being sarcastic.

"Y/N, I'm serious. If something happens to you, your parents will kill me."

"I'm 23 years old and I am tired of being treated like this little fragile thing! I'm an adult and I have a disability that I have had to adapt to and be okay with since I was eight years old but I'm NOT helpless!" You said placing the last box on the table and making your way out of the room with Denise calling after you.

"Pumpkin! Baby girl! I didn't mean to upset you… I just…"

You quickly made your way to the bathroom and dabbed at the corners of your eyes to catch the tears in order for you not to mess up your makeup.

This was the argument that would happen between your parents and now your Godmother at least once a month. You understood why they were so protective over you, but you almost felt as if they were suffocating you. 

You thought the move to Miami would be refreshing, but you were quickly growing tired of it and was deciding if you were going to pack up in the middle of the night and disappear. 

All four of them would have the FBI looking for you within an hour.

Your Godfather David was a bit more lenient and understanding when it came to you and that had been the case ever since you were little.

When you came up with an idea of wanting to try something new, he always had to talk them into letting you do it.

You just sighed while fixing your dress and looking at your phone.

It was now getting close to 10 pm and people would be arriving soon since Jack was due to perform around 11. 

The only highlight about your night was that you got to see Jack Harlow and then you would be able to go home and stuff your face with pizza rolls.

Until then, you would just hang out at the bar with your best friend McKenzie who you had convinced to make the move with you.

The two of you had known each other since you were six years old when you shared your 64 pack of Crayola crayons with her and wouldn’t let anyone else touch them.

Inseparable ever since.

She helped you through your diagnosis when the two of you were only eight even if she couldn’t quite understand what was happening and never left your side.

You made your way over to the bar to see her already starting to mix drinks for eager customers. After she had finished serving them, she turned to you.

“What’ll it be, bestie?”

“Anything to take the edge off of wanting to jump off the nearest cliff.”

“Pumpkin, come on. It can’t be that bad.”

“But it is Kenzie! They never allow me to do anything and I’m just so tired of it.”

“I get it, but they want to protect you.”

“I can be protected without being smothered and I can literally feel her eyes in the back of my head right now.”

Sure enough when Mckenzie looked up she saw Denise looking at you with concern in her eyes.

“They love you and only want the best for you just like I do. I mean I did move to Miami for you.”

“You moved to Miami to be close to the beach and find you a girlfriend so please stop lying and telling me that you did this for me because I will turn down my hearing aids and it’ll be like you’re talking to a wall.”

“PUMPKIN! DO NOT START!”

“Too late.”

Mckenzie just rolled her eyes before setting an amaretto sour in front of you which you slowly started to sip on.

“Appreciate you.”

“Bitch, where the fuck is my tip?”

“Up my ass, now give me another one.”

All McKenzie did was raise her eyebrows at you.

“PLEASE.”

“Thought so.”

Just then it was announced that Jack would be coming to the stage and you decided to turn up your hearing aids a little bit higher and McKenzie noticed. 

“Oh, so you can turn them on for Jack, but not your best friend?”

“You started to annoy me so I turned them down. Jack doesn’t annoy me.”

“I’m going to kick your ass once we leave here.”

It was the middle of Jack’s performance when McKenzie had nudged you and you turned to look over at her.

“Hmm?”

“He’s staring at you.”

“Who?!”

“Jack is.”

“No he isn’t…. Wait…. Is he really? Is there something on my face? Did one of my lashes fall off? Is there something in my teeth?”

“No, you look gorgeous as always. I just feel like he’s been looking an awful lot in your direction during his set, truth be told since he hit the stage.”

“McKenzie, did you smoke without me today? Because it’s giving delusional.”

“No, because I didn’t buy anymore since we smoked it all last night and it’s true!”

“Hmm.”

“But you’re off limits anyway.”

“Says who?!”

“Says me. No one is going to get to you without those two approving anyway and he’s doing a residency here?”

“Kenzie, I’m a grown ass woman who is able to make decisions for herself.”

“I completely agree so this leads into my next question, how much do you want to bet that by the end of the night he’ll ask you for your number?”

“Kenzieeeee!”

“What?! Come on 50 dollars! You can bet me 50 dollars!”

Jack’s set had been over for about fifteen minutes when you suddenly felt someone sit down next to you at the bar. You didn’t pay it any mind until McKenzie looked up from wiping down the bar and her eyes went wide. 

You looked at her dumbfounded until you heard his voice and immediately stopped your movements.

“What are you drinking, pretty girl? Mind if I buy you another one?” You turned to see that Jack was in fact talking to you and you felt your heart speed up at a ridiculous rate.

“Um, amaretto sour.” 

He simply handed McKenzie his card while not breaking eye contact with you.

“So does the pretty girl have a pretty name to go along with it?” Jack curiously asked you and you were doing everything in your power in order not to look crazy in front of him. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack at this very moment.

“Y/N. But my friends call me Pumpkin.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N, I’m Jack.”

“Nice to meet you too.”

“Couldn’t help but to notice you over here during my set and I wanted to get to know you better if you’d let me. Since only your friends call you pumpkin, I want to be able to call you that too and maybe more.”

McKenzie was watching this entire exchange unfold and she was hoping that you would say yes while trying to also not mess up anyone’s drink order.

Your last relationship didn’t end well and you had just about turned into a hermit ever since which bothered her to no end. As much as she wanted for you to get back out there, you refused. 

“I’d like that.”

The two of you exchanged numbers with Jack promising to text you before the night was over.

You turned back to McKenzie and she eagerly smiled at you and slid your drink towards you. 

“You owe me 50 dollars.”

You and Jack had been getting to know each other just about every day he didn’t have a show and it was a breath of fresh air spending time with him. It was almost as if the two of you didn’t just meet, but had known each other for years. 

The two of you were now at your favorite hole in the wall taco place and you put your curly hair up into a ponytail so that nothing would get into your food.

This was the first time that you thought Jack had noticed your hearing aids and you could tell he was looking over at you with curiosity as you took a nacho into your mouth.

“So, are you going to ask me?”

“Ask you what?” Jack responded while stealing one of your nachos.

You simply pointed to your hearing aids and Jack simply shrugged.

“You’ve been staring at me since I put my hair up. Aren’t you curious? It seems like everyone is when they see me with them.”

“I'm staring at you because I think you're pretty and why does it matter? I figured you would tell me when you were ready to and besides I saw that you had them when we met. Still didn’t stop me from wanting to talk to you and it doesn’t now.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

“I’m very observant. Especially when it comes to things that I like.”

“Oh, and I’m guessing you like me?” You asked while fluttering your eyelashes and Jack couldn’t help but to do anything but laugh.

“This is our fourth date, isn’t it? That should tell you something.”

“It is. And good because I like you too.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before you continued to talk.

“I started losing my hearing when I was eight. Different doctors, different specialists, no one could do anything about it. And they told me it would get to a point where I wouldn’t be able to hear at all anymore. Kind of sucks for a girl who wanted to be an entertainer, but my parents set me up with learning sign language then because eventually I’ll have to use it. I do that as a side hustle, signing for people at different events around Miami.”

“Thank you for telling me that, I know that it has to be difficult at times.”

“It is, but I have an advantage that not a lot of other people have. When I’m tired of listening to the outside world, I simply turn them off.” 

“If we ever get into a disagreement, I take it that would be your go to strategy?”

“No, I think you’re too cute for me to stay mad at. My parents on the other hand are a different story.” 

—

“So, your new girlfriend is deaf?” Urban asked while looking over at his best friend.

“No, she can hear but she told me it almost sounds like background noise so she can't distinguish who's talking, but she wears hearing aids to help. But doctors have told her that eventually it will get to the point where she won’t be able to hear anymore. And she’s not my girlfriend, not yet anyway.”

“I definitely noticed that first night how you kept staring at her. And the two of you have gone on like six dates, what’s the hold up? Does she know sign language?”

“Just want to take my time and get to know her and she does.”

“Hmm, I wonder if she can teach me how to cuss people out.”

“URB!”

“What?! What I say?”

“You wonder if who can teach you how to do what?” Neelam asked while coming into the room and looking at the two of them. 

“Jack’s new girlfriend is deaf and knows sign language. While partially deaf I should say. You know short girl with the curly hair who he has now been spending more time with than me.”

“Damn, Urb just throw the whole damn tree at this point with all the shade.” Jack said while laughing.

“Urban, you are already a menace, she doesn’t need to teach you anything. And don’t you think Jack gets tired of looking at your ass all the time?”

“WHY NOT?! AND NO I’M NOT! AND NO HE DOESN’T!” Urban exclaimed and Jack stifled a laugh. 

“Knowing her she would probably do it too. She already turns down her hearing aids if her parents start to get on her nerves, godparents included.” Jack added while shaking his head.

“So, when am I properly going to meet her? Her godparents own the club, right?”

“They do and you can meet her tonight. She’s just about always there.”

“Her friend she’s always with is cute too.”

“And her friend is also a lesbian so keep it moving.”

“Oh, I respect it. Does she have any more friends?”

“I’ll ask.”

Jack sent you a quick text to let you know that Urban wanted to meet you. He figured that he would start with him first before introducing you to the rest of PG.

Curly Haired White Boy- Y/N, my best friend wants to meet you tonight

You- if it’s Urban tell him my requirements are for him to bring a blunt to share

Curly Haired White Boy- Why am I not surprised? Lmaooo

You- I mean that’s the only proper way to meet someone right?

Curly Haired White Boy- Since when?!?

You- idk since forever?

Curly Haired White Boy- I’ll be sure to tell him. He’s excited to meet you. Also wanted to know if you had any other friends besides McKenzie?

You- I have associates. Closest one is Camille, however she has baby mama drama. The other is Alexis. She sells drugs.

Curly Haired White Boy- Wait, what!?

You- She was with this girl, they got married, had a kid with a sperm donor that she carried, now going through a divorce when she realized she wanted her wife’s boss who is a guy. Oh and he’s the actual baby daddy because she cheated. Sperm donor my ass.  I would never subject your best friend to that dumpster fire on wheels. Oh and Alexis is a pharmacy tech. She sells drugs the legal way. He might like her. I’ll put in a word for him. 

Curly Haired White Boy- Oh, um okay then

You- Can’t wait to see you tonight, I’ll be sure to wear your favorite color

Curly Haired White Boy- Can’t wait to see you

You got to the club a little later than the time you told Jack that you would be here, but when you were finally in his line of sight, he made his way over to you with who you assumed was Urban in tow.

And as promised, you were wearing one of your newest dresses that happened to be a deep purple along with a simple pair of black heels. 

“Hey babe. You look gorgeous.” Jack greeted you as he leaned down to kiss you and you quickly hugged him.

“Hey, thank you, sorry I’m late, misplaced one of my hearing aids and it had actually fallen in the trash can in the bathroom and took me about 45 minutes to find so yeah but I’m here and oh you must be the infamous Urban that I hear so much about?”

“Wait, how did you lose them?” Jack asked while looking at you and you just shrugged.

“I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached. Kenzie yells at me all the time about it.”

“The one and only. He’s only told you good things, right?”

“Define good things.” You said as you raised your eyebrows before laughing.

“HEY! I did only tell you good things!” 

“He did, Urban, you have nothing to worry about. But for now, I actually have to work as much as I don’t want to so head on over to V.I.P. and I’ll come find you later.”

“Okay, don’t work too hard.” Jack said as he leaned down to kiss you once more.

“I promise, I won’t. Besides, if they start to get on my nerves, I’ll just stay in V.I.P. with you the rest of the night.”

“BABE!”

“What?! They better be happy I don’t turn off my hearing aids.”

“You have got to stop doing that.”

—

You and Jack had now been together for one year and counting and you honestly could not have been happier.

Your parents as well as your godparents absolutely adored him and he was honestly the first boyfriend of yours that they actually liked. Which was surprising. 

And his parents adored you right along with his younger brother Clay.

The long distance did get you sad sometimes, but it would instantly go out of the window when Jack would surprise you when he had small breaks in between appearances. He always told you that you were more than welcome to come with him any time you wanted and that you didn’t have to pay for anything. 

This time, the two of you were laying in Jack’s king sized bed in his house that he just purchased in Louisville. You were convinced that the bed was going to swallow you whole or that you were going to get lost in it because it was so big.

No one told your boyfriend to be 6’3, but here we are.

“Baby girl?” Jack said as he leaned down to kiss your nose.

“Hmm?” You muttered while your eyes were still closed, but held onto Jack tighter. Your flight had gotten in extremely early in the morning and all you wanted to do was sleep. You had been on overdrive the last few days being at the club and also being an ASL interpreter for small events around Miami. 

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” You said while opening your eyes and looking at him.

“I want you to teach me sign language.”

“Really?” You asked excitedly while getting the biggest smile on your face.

"Well, yeah. I want to always be able to tell you I love you even if it isn't with my voice. I don’t want a day to go by that I’m not able to tell you how much you mean to me."

Your eyes immediately watered and you couldn’t do anything but eagerly nod your head yes.

“Of course I will and I love you too.”

“I just thought about how neither of us know how long you’ll still have your hearing and I want to be prepared.”’

“Thank you for thinking of me.” You quietly said as Jack had wiped away your tears.

“Always, a day never passes when I don’t.”

“I’ll go easy on you to start and then we’ll get into the more complicated things. We’ll start with the alphabet first.”

“Oh, and I should warn you, Urb wants you to teach him cuss words.”

“Shit, say less. But, why am I not surprised?” You said while laughing.

“Can you imagine? Me and Urb going back and forth and only you would know what we were saying?”

“That is about to be hilarious and I cannot wait. How much longer do we have until we go see my parents?”

“Yeah, the parents that love you more than their own biological child.”

“Stop being dramatic. I mean your mom did say she wishes she had a daughter and was very excited that I was dating her big headed son.”

“She did NOT say that last part!” Jack looked at you dumbfounded, but all you could do was laugh. 

“How much you wanna bet!?” 

“Anyway we have about three hours.”

“Oh, I have to start getting ready.”

“Babe? You need three hours to get ready?” Jack asked while pinching your cheek and you immediately swatted his hand away.

“Unless you want us to be late, I suggest that you unhand me.”

“Why do I have to unhand you when we could just save water?”

“Jackman, no funny business.”

“I don’t know what you mean, my love. What is this funny business that you speak of?”

“Knowing you we won’t meet them in three hours, but in six.” You responded while rolling your eyes. 

“And? I don’t see the problem. Just let me put the tip in.”

“Bye, Jackman.” You said while turning away from him and then standing up from the bed.

“So? Is that a yes?”

“It’s ‘a you better come on before I change my mind’.”

“Shit, don’t have to tell me twice. Start the shower and do NOT have it so hot it’s like we’re at the gates of hell like you did last time.”

“Jackman, I will make you shower by yourself if you don’t shut up and stop complaining.”

“Babe, come onnnnn. You were lowkey trying to burn me.”

“I was NOT!” 

“I beg to differ.”

Both of you were now sitting at the dinner table in Jack’s parents house along with Clay and you were excited because Maggie had told you that she bought a new red wine that she thought that you would like.

Brian just finished asking you how you liked Jack’s new house and you said that it needed a few splashes of color and that you would add your touch to it while Jack was rolling his eyes and  you noticed Maggie eyeing you as you started to take a sip of your wine.

“Ma, why do you keep staring at Y/N like that?” Jack asked before laughing.

“Because there’s something different about her.”

“Different how? I changed my hair since the last time you saw me.” You asked as you continued to sip on your wine.

You would definitely be taking the bottle home and would thank Maggie for getting it for you.

“I noticed that when we talked on facetime the other day, not your hair. You’re pregnant.”

“WHAT?!” Jack exclaimed and you immediately got a confused look on your face while Clay simply looked between the two of you.

“No, I’m not.” You said unsure of yourself as you stopped drinking your wine and set the glass back down but not before pouring the rest into Clay’s glass since you were now nervous. 

“Are you sure? The glow is definitely there that people talk about and I can see it. I also had a dream about fish last night. I don’t want to scare you, just a thought.”

That was when you tried to remember when your last period was and you were coming up short. You didn’t even want to look over at Jack at the moment. 

“Sooo, yeah I’ll be back.” Jack said getting up from the table and grabbing his keys while you just sat there staring off into space.

“If you are, I’m glad it’s you that he got pregnant and not his ex-girlfriend because she was a piece of work.” Maggie tried to whisper to you, but of course Brian and Clay heard her.

“MAGGIE!” Brian exclaimed while looking at her but he just shrugged while Clay was laughing. 

“What? I’m telling the truth!”

Curly Haired White Boy- Babe, I’m going to get a pregnancy test for you, I’ll be back

You- Um yeah good idea

Curly Haired White Boy- Don’t be scared baby girl, you have me and I’m not going anywhere

You- Love you big head

Curly Haired White Boy- Love you more

When Jack came back in fifteen minutes, you immediately ran to the bathroom to take the test while Jack was pacing outside the door.

“You’re going to put a hole in the floor if you don’t stop.” Clay said while not even looking at his older brother.

“Can you blame me?!”

“Yes, I can blame you. You were the one who knocked her up.”

“Cut the shit, Clay!”

“I was just saying!”

You had been in there for at least twenty minutes and as soon as Jack was about to knock on the door and see if you were okay, you opened it.

“Baby? What did it say?”

“Looks like we’re about to be somebody’s parents.”

It had been about two months since you found out you were pregnant and you really weren’t showing yet. At first you were excited, a little scared, but excited nonetheless and now reality was setting in. 

Jack had asked you to move in with him and you quickly agreed and of course McKenzie moved to Kentucky right along with you.

Since apparently now her and Urban were a thing.

After she swore off men for the rest of her life, here she was. 

She was convinced that wherever you went, she had to go too.

And you were not going to put up a fight about it either. It helped having her close to you and served as having a little piece of home. 

You made sure to tell your parents as well as godparents what was happening when you had touched down in Kentucky when all of your things were fully moved into the house so they didn’t have anything to say about it or put up a fight.

What were they going to do? Come and get you to bring you back?

They just thought you were visiting Jack more often, but what you were really doing was moving in. 

As of right now, the two of you were in London and Jack had just gotten finished one of his performances and you were in the bathroom doing your nightly routine in order to get ready for bed while Jack was in the bedroom pacing back and forth and debating whether he was going to ask you or not.

Ask you to marry him that is.

He had mentioned to Urban about three months ago about wanting to ask you and he told him to go for it knowing that you weren’t going to say no.

Now every time Urban saw you, he would look at your ring finger, notice it was bare, and then look at Jack and roll his eyes because he was taking so long.

The door was slightly ajar and he could see you so he figured he might as well get it over with before he talked himself out of it.

For the fourth time in the past week. 

“Baby, I wanted to ask you something, but I just want you to listen for a minute. You came into my life when I least expected it and now that you’re in it I can’t see myself without you. When I first saw you, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you and I’ve been obsessed ever since. From the way you laugh, our shared love for pizza, the way you care about others, while also taking time to care for yourself and loving me through everything that has happened in the past year. I know that no matter what happens, you’ll always be by my side and that is all I could ever ask for. I just want to make this official and don’t want to wait any longer. So, Y/N Y/M/N, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

At this exact moment, Jack was down on one knee and you fully opened the door, saw the ring and immediately slammed the door while trying not to have a panic attack.

You figured this was a good time to turn your hearing aids back up.

“Baby!” Jack said while coming over to the door and trying to open it and failing. 

“I… JACKMAN! Are you serious?!”

“Did you not have your hearing aids turned on!? YES I’M SERIOUS!”

“No! I took them out to clean them and I just put them back in!” You exclaimed a little upset because you had missed everything that he said. 

“So, you didn’t hear ANY of that?!”

“No! But, you’re really serious?!”

“Yes, I’m serious! Baby, open the door!”

You did as you were told and opened it to see Jack staring down at you.

“No bullshit?” You asked as you could feel your eyes welling up with tears. 

“No bullshit, I want to be able to call you my wife for real.”

“Like seriously?”

“Yes, baby girl. I’m serious for the third time and have been thinking about asking you for a while.”

“So you really love me?” You asked and Jack looked at you in disbelief. 

“Y/N, I just asked you to marry me, did I not?”

“Oh, well I guess that’s true.”

“Baby, are you going to give me an answer? Low key panicking over here.”

“Well duh!”

“Duh what?!?”

“THAT I’LL MARRY YOU BIG HEAD!”

“Usually people say yes, not duh!” Jack exclaimed while you were still trying to make sense of everything. 

“Well I’m not people! I’m Y/N!”

“What am I going to do with you?” Jack jokingly asked as he slipped the ring on your finger and all you could do was smile and admire it.

“Nothing, now because your ass is stuck with me!”

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Jack answered as he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips.

“You just don’t know how much I love you. I never thought in a million years that this would be a reality for me.”

“And you just don’t know how much I love you too. I’m happy that you let your guard down with me and let me love you the way that you deserve.”

You finished putting your hair up and laid down next to Jack while you moved over to lay on his chest and he quickly embraced you.

“Your heartbeat calms me and I love laying on you and listening to it when my mind is running 1000 miles per hour.” You said and Jack leaned down to look at you.

“What are you thinking?”

“What if she’s deaf?” You quietly asked.

“So, what if she is? That isn’t going to make her any less perfect. She’ll be perfect because we made her.”

“I would never forgive myself for it. I want her to be able to experience all of the things that I couldn’t do.”

“Whatever happens, she is going to live a full life and we’re going to make sure of it. You need to stop blaming yourself.”

“Easier said than done. I never saw myself becoming a parent so this has unlocked new fears for me.” You quietly confessed. Your biggest fear was passing on your disability to your offspring so you had it made up in your mind ever since you were fourteen that unless you found the person that you wanted to spend your life with, you weren’t about to have any kids. 

Well, then Jack came into the picture. 

“Of course we’re going to have them because she’s literally ours. That goes through every parent’s mind. But remember we’re a team and we’re doing this together.”

“I know. You’re right.” You were so excited when you saw the positive pregnancy test and now all of the fears that had been in the back of your mind are making themselves known. 

“Still won’t make me love her or you any less so you can get that out of your mind right now because I know that’s what you’re thinking.” Jack said as he tilted your chin to make you look up at him. 

“I can’t help it. I just…”

“I love you for making my life complete and now we're about to add our little girl to that." 

“And no matter what happens, she’ll be perfect because like you said, she’s ours.”

It was around 3 in the morning when Jack woke you up by placing several kisses on your cheeks because you had to catch a flight to Sweden for the next show, you lazily got out of the comfortable bed and started to get ready. 

“Come on, mamas. You can sleep on the plane.”

“Only if I get cuddles from you, otherwise, I’m not moving.”

“Babe, you know you can have all the cuddles you want and you know that you never have to ask.”

“Is this how it feels being with a morning person because this is downright ghetto. It is literally three in the morning.”

“Congratulations, you learned how to tell time.”

“I will kick your ass, Harlow. Watch it.”

“Hmm, you sure about that?”

“Better, yet, I’ll tell Maggie.”

Jack immediately stopped his movements to look over at you and all you did was smirk.

“That’s what I thought.”

As you were getting settled on the plane, Urban did a double take as he looked down at your finger.

“FUCKING FINALLY!”

“Urb, shut uppppp. It’s too early!” You exclaimed while burying your face deeper into Jack’s hoodie that you were wearing.

“So, he did it last night?!”

“Did what?” You asked, looking at him confused. 

Urban gestured to your ring finger and all you did was smile and Jack came and sat next to you.

“I did it and she heard absolutely none of the speech I prepared beforehand because she took out her hearing aids and failed to tell me.”

“Damn.” Urban said as he grabbed your hand to look at your ring.

“At least your man has good taste. Or was it me?”

“Sorry about that. And Urb did you help him pick it out?”

“Urb helping was him asking Kenzie and then reporting back to me and she was sworn to secrecy.”

“I still get my credit though. I did help.”

“And then she proceeded to slam the door in my face because I startled her and I was on one knee with the ring when she fully opened the bathroom door.”

Urban busted out laughing while shaking his head.

“You scared me. Completely caught me off guard.”

“Then proceeded to ask me if I was serious and if I loved her multiple times even though I most definitely had just asked her to marry me.”

“I had to be sure! This is a big decision.”

“I told you she wasn’t going to say no.”

“But it took her almost fifteen minutes it seems like to give me an answer.”

“I wasn’t that long!”

“Speak for yourself! Had me up there sweating and panicking!”

“I’ll make it up to you later once I get some sleep.”

Once all of you had landed and gotten to the hotel, all you did was take a shower and hopped in the bed to get ready to go back to sleep and was whining that Jack had a few interviews and wouldn’t be able to lay down with you and that was when your notification for instagram went off.

1 New Message from BadGalRiRi

Hey, Y/N, I see that you’re a well known ASL interpreter around Miami and I would love to work alongside you for when I do the super bowl in February. You let me know and I can send over the setlist so we can get started.

You let out the most ear piercing scream known to man startling Jack and him looking over at you confused.

“Uh, baby? You okay over there?”

“NO! YES! NO! I DON’T KNOW!”

“I have no idea what that means so start explaining.”

All you did was shove your phone towards Jack so he could read the message and his eyes went wide.

“Not my baby being asked to perform at the super bowl with Rihanna. You better say yes.”

“I.. I don’t even know what to say.”

“YES OBVIOUSLY!”

“ I AM JACKMAN! I MEANT IN GENERAL!”

“I’m so so proud of you.” Jack said as he leaned over to kiss your temple. 

“Oh….”

“Oh what?”

“I have to pick out my outfit and I’m about to be VERY pregnant come February.”

After you had responded to Rihanna, someone on her team had gotten in contact with you and sent over the setlist. It helped that you had about a month and a half to prepare and that you were a big fan and familiar with her music. 

Every single time you practiced, Jack was just sitting there watching you in awe and the one time that you caught him, you couldn’t help but to get a startled look on your face.

“Yes, Jackman? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“So, I need a reason to be able to look at my girl now?”

“No.”

“I’m looking at you because I love you and admire you.”

“Cut it out before I start to cry. These hormones are no joke, sir.”

“I’m just being honest.”

“I know you are and I love you for that.”

“When are you actually going to run through the entire performance with her and everyone else?”

“A few days before the show. It helps that I already know all of her songs and that I know them well.”

“And I’m still struggling to learn the alphabet.”

“It takes time and it doesn’t come overnight, babe. You’ll get there.”

“Wait, babe, teach me how to sign bring that pussy over here.”

“JACKMAN THOMAS!”

“What?! I thought I’d ask since you’re teaching Urban cuss words!” 

“Remind me why I said yes to marrying you again?”

“Don’t start!”

“You started it, I’m just the one finishing it!” 

You let out a sigh of relief as Rihanna’s halftime performance had just ended and you couldn’t wait to take the heels that you were wearing off. You were only six months, but you felt as if you were about to pop any day now.

Jack had helped you down off of the platform that you were standing on and immediately hugged you and kissed the top of your head.

“You did amazing, baby. Very proud of you.”

“Thank you boo. I’m just glad it’s over so I can take these shoes off. And I’m proud of you too and your commercial. Even though Urban was a little traitor at the end.”

“HEY! I HEARD THAT!”

“Did I lie?!”

“PUMPKIN, COME ON. ELTON JOHN THOUGH?! DO YOU BLAME ME?”

“No, you right though. I would have probably done the same thing.” You said as all of you walked back to the skybox that you had been sitting in before to enjoy the rest of the game.

“Babe?” You said as you grabbed his hand and he quickly looked down at you.

“What’s going on mamas?”

“You have about 7 minutes until your fiance turns into a different person because she’s hungry.”

“I offered to share my buffalo wings with you earlier, but you just wanted to sit in the corner and be cute and say no.”

“I didn’t want sauce on my dress!”

“I had the old bay ones you like too! They didn’t have sauce.”

“Urban, come get your best friend.”

“I’d rather not.”

“Both of you irk me to no end.”

For the next few weeks after the super bowl, of course they talked about Rihanna, but they were mentioning you every time you turned around.

You had lost count over how many times you were being tagged on instagram in posts highlighting little clips of your performances.

It was funny because a lot of your family had sent calls and text messages congratulating you on being pregnant and getting to sign at the super bowl since they didn’t know anything beforehand and you wanted to keep it as a surprise. 

The latest headline had you smiling to no end and Jack was looking at you wondering what was going on.

Jack Harlow’s pregnant fiance Y/N Y/L/N makes her own mark at the Super Bowl being a sign language interpreter for Rihanna

“I know you aren’t looking at one of my dick pics since I haven’t sent you one in awhile so what’s got you smiling like that?”

“You are such a dumbass, you know that?” You said and you immediately rolled your eyes.

“But the difference is that I’m your dumbass.”

“Well… that’s true.”

You simply handed him your phone so that he could take a look at it and smiled at you when he finished reading it.

“But, are you going to teach me how to sign bring that pussy over here? That is the real question.”

“Jackman…..”

“YOU NEVER GAVE ME AN ANSWER!”

“Because you don’t need one!”

“I beg to differ. I’ll go on youtube.”

“Seriously?!” You exclaimed while looking over at him. 

“Well my soon to be wife isn’t helping me!”

“I need to call Maggie and Brian and tell them to come and get their son because I am 100% done with you.”

“She probably doesn’t want me either.”

“Sucks to be you then, huh?”

“BABYYYYY!! Pleaseeee!”

“On one condition.”

“Yes?”

“If you ever and I mean EVER sign this shit out in public I will KILL YOU.”

“Fine right after I kill that pussy.”

All you did was sigh and shake your head.

“Lord, help me.”

The rest of your pregnancy went as smoothly as possible and after being in labor for a total of sixteen hours and wanting to kill Jack, she was finally here. 

All ten fingers, all then toes.

Skylar Eloise Harlow

And just as the two of you predicted, she was perfect.

Both of you had curly hair and so did she, but Jack was convinced that she got her hair from him while you were convinced that she got it from you. 

Of course in the back of your mind, you were still concerned about her hearing and the doctor had told you that she would be able to do the test when she was about a month old.

But you knew in the end that either way it went, you were happy because you would get to raise this little girl to be a badass just like her mother in every sense and to not let anyone tell her that she wasn’t able to do something. 

“Can you believe we made her?” Jack quietly asked you as he was holding her.

“No, definitely not. Feels weird not being pregnant anymore.”

“Well we can change that in about six weeks.”

“You sir, are not touching me again until she is at least fifteen.”

“FIFTEEN?! Yeah, okay. Let’s see how long THAT lasts.”

“Never been in so much pain in my damn life. Felt like I was being ripped apart. It was worth it though, so I would do it again.”

“See?”

“You sir, get no say because you didn’t have to push her out.”

“I think I should get like a 10% say in this because my hand is bruised from you holding it so tight.”

“Be happy it wasn’t your dick.”

“Actually I would be happy if it was.”

“Bye, Jackman.”

“What? What I say?”

“You know what you said.”

You had gotten quiet for a few minutes and Jack looked up at you concerned.

“Baby girl?”

“I’m okay, I’m just happy. Really happy.” 

Jack simply got up and placed Skylar in your arms before sitting back down next to you.

"Babe, I've been practicing."

"Practicing what?" You asked him suddenly confused.

Just then Jack signed "I love you" to you and your eyes immediately watered.

"I love you too."

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

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@jackmansbabymama

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@miniaturehideoutmentality

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@jackslover12

@skyesthebomb

@jackharlows-world

@louisianalady

@fdl305

@automaticpeachsong

@harlowcomehome

@gassyandsassy1

@babygirlwilly

@amethyst09

@harrycanyonmoonn

@toocriticalharlow

@tattered-tales

@sisiking99

@dessxoxsworld

@gillybear17

@jacksdaycare

@iheartharlow

@disaster-rose

@babyvinnie

@evansxchalamet

@chtkmyharlow​

@itsyagirljaz

@neon-lights-and-glitter

@awhore4moree

[emberfrostlovesloki]

Aaron Fanfiction Analysis [an essay]

Photo credits: Left (Google) Center (@themoontaxi) Right (@citronplume)

A/N: I don’t know how many of you followed my page to read some academic work, but here we are, and I’d love it if you stick around to give this a read if you are so inclined. I recently read Rome’s @criminalskies story about a BAU reader who is feeling dysphoric due to being on their period during a long case. Aaron provides them comfort, and they come out to him. The link to that story can be found here (link). While I was reading it, I was so enamored that I started taking notes. If I like something, I take notes. After finishing it, I simply had to think about the literary devices being used, and this essay was born. I asked Rome if they were okay with this, and they agreed (thank you!). Then I finished the essay, and I asked if I could share it here too. Again, Rome agreed. Obviously, after Roland Barthes and The Death of the Author and all that. We understand that reading is subjective. This is just my little take on their story. Everyone reads and understands things differently. I thought I’d just share my thoughts with you. If nothing else, please check out Rome’s page and this story. They are a joy to know and be friends with. I'm currently working on an Emily fic and and an Aaron fic, so those will be out soon too. I hope you all have a lovely end of your weekend, and I’ll see you soon  - Levi. 

You can read the essay below the cut

Word Count: 3.1K 

Content Warnings: Dysphoria and body image issues

List with all stories

P.S. I did the ungodly thing, and I printed this fanfiction on paper for the sake of annotations and in-text citations. 

Fanfiction is a Gift 

When someone who is not very familiar with the concept of fanfiction hears the term fanfiction brought up in conversation,  there is a knee-jerk reaction to assume that this type of writing is not very good writing and that those writing it are teenagers. Both of those things may be true of some fanfiction writers. However, to address the quality of writing, if something is being written, no matter what skill level it is at, that is practice. Practice makes us better writers of all of us. So there will be no complaint about quality from me on that count. But there are other types of fanfiction writers as well. There are adults who consume content and adore it so much that they want to add their voice to the narrative. They bring themselves open and willingly to the space. They share their stories with others to read and enjoy. Often, these writers are more inclusive than the content of the original material. After all, books, T.V. shows, movies, and all other entertainment media are made by the studios for one purpose -- money. The top executives of networks and streaming services are happy to discontinue a beloved show if it is not making a profit. Now some shows are disappearing entirely for tax write-off purposes. The mainstream shows that stay ongoing for years must appeal to the everyman. This often means inclusivity is not a top goal of the creators. This leaves many marginalized groups out. These often include LGBTQIA+, minorities, those who are disabled, and those with non-thin body types. It might come as a surprise to David Saslav or Sam Levinson, but not everybody looks like the characters on their platforms and shows. There has been a push for media to be more inclusive, and we see this in shows like Good Omens, Our Flag Means Death, and What We Do In The Shadows, but the number of these shows pales in comparison to the mainstream media. Serial shows like Criminal Minds is one of those shows. The F.B.I. drama hosts a cast that is not very diverse, and topics of sexuality, racism, police brutality, and other pressing issues are addressed only briefly during the show’s sixteen-season run. This is where fanfiction writers bridge the gap. Writers allow themselves and others to be included in that world, with those characters. This writing is cathartic to many. It is healing what the mainstream refused to address. This is why fanfiction is a gift. To highlight how strong some fanfiction writers are, and the power they have over language, a literary analysis will be done on a recent story published on Tumblr. The author, Rome, was completing a request for a story involving the BAU team leader, Aaron Hotchner, and a non-binary member of the team who is feeling dysphoric during their period. Rome responded to that request with a masterpiece. The untitled story uses diction and tone to demonstrate how the reader feels embarrassed and frustrated by the situation they are placed in, pacing and juxtaposition are employed to highlight how time in the show and on a personal level seem to warp and change given the circumstances, lastly, characterization is used for the reader and Aaron to display how their dynamic changes by the end of the story. 

The story starts in medias res, with the team attempting to solve a slew of murders in Louisiana. The team is stumped and tired. An argument breaks out between the reader and Dr. Reid. Here a variety of loaded words are brought up, including, “irritable,” “overdrive,” “annoyingly,” “hope,” and “exhausted” (Rome, 1). The use of these emotions sets the tone early on for the piece. This is not a fun or happy situation. The argument that takes place in the precinct highlights this, as the reader says, “‘Reid. Correct me based off something you read in the textbook I wrote one more goddamn time and I will see how far that giant brain of yours really is from your skull.’” (Rome, 2). The violent nature of the statement and the use of an expletive evince the tension in the room. Derek Morgan’s attempt to comfort adds no help, as he calls the reader “Mama” twice (Rome, 2). Morgan’s use of gendered terms only makes the reader more angry as they identify as non-binary but has not told the team yet. It is only Aaron who helps them calm down and moves them out of the room. The tone shifts from one of anger from the reader to concern from Aaron. As it turns out, not only is the reader exhausted, but has also started their period; thus the excess of emotions. Embarrassed, they move to the restroom and begin sobbing in pain from the cramps and identity crisis. Aaron moves into the space and immediately he becomes concerned as he hears his, seasoned, agent crying out in pain. He enters the bathroom stall and attempts to understand what’s happened. As he asks questions, the reader notes that his tone is “delicate” and “so laced with concern” (Rome, 7). Aaron embraces the reader to offer physical comfort in a situation that is clearly distressing to both of them. After a few moments, Aaron notices that the reader is holding the crumpled plastic of a pad. The realization hits him and “the penny finally drops, and he can understand why you were so volatile earlier” (Rome, 8). He still does not understand why the reader is so upset but true to his character on the show, he does not try and guess at an answer. He is compassionate at this moment. There is another tonal shift from care and concern to humor as the story lightens its tone. 

The reader has asked Aaron to go back to the hotel, and he readily agrees. The reader asks Aaron, who is driving,  to stop at a convenience store to get some needed supplies for their menstruation. They arrive at a store and the reader attempts to go in themself, but Aaron has none of it. He is told what the reader needs and moves into the store himself. While Aaron is very good at meeting the needs of the team, when he is faced with the choice of period products, he is suddenly at a loss. His experiences with his ex-wife does not help him much, and seeing him flustered like this brings a lightness to the story. As he faces down the tampons, he speaks aloud, “‘Light, ultra light, regular, overnight, sport, active, everyday, heavy, ultra max… shit’” (Rome, 12). Without wanting to disturb the reader, he gets one of every kind along with some comfort snacks. When the manly cashier makes a comment about women and “‘shark week’” Aaron responds, “Funny, sharks rather like eating invertebrates,” as he walks out the door (Rome, 14). There is one last major shift from humor to an understanding of passion and joy. The start of this shift is when, at the hotel, Aaron attempts a joke, saying, “‘I feel like it might be a human rights violation to deny a menstruating woman her sleep’” (Rome, 16). The use of gendered language, especially from Aaron, makes the reader uncomfortable in their body again. Aaron notices the shift and checks in to see if the reader is okay. He ends up joining them in their room. After the reader is changed, he perceptively states, “‘I can tell one moment you’re completely fine and the next it’s like you’re forty feet from your own body” (Rome, 19). By saying this, the reader reveals how they have been feeling over the past few months. That they feel their body and gender are not aligned. They note that they had hesitated to say anything for fear of being viewed differently and making work for Aaron. Aaron could care less. He is overjoyed that the reader is revealing their true self to him. Aaron states, “I am so, so happy, that I’m someone you’re comfortable to talk about this with’” (Rome, 21). The conversation continues for a while longer and there is an understanding between Aaron and the reader and real delight from Aaron in being pulled into the loop. The story finishes with a moment of intimacy and self-reflection from Aaron as he holds the reader tight to his body. 

Criminal Minds normally follows a villain, or Unknown Subject [heretofore unsub] of the week. This provides a steady narrative arc for each of the episodes: a case is announced, the team debriefs, arrives at the location of the crimes, the team creates a profile, the team investigates, another murder or crime happens, the profile changes, the climax, and then the resolution, and closing monolog, as the team returns home on the jet. This structure is endemic in most police procedural shows and it provides a consistency to the narrative. Rome’s use of pacing is more dynamic and more personal. There is clearly a timeline for the team. They need to solve these cases as quickly as possible so less people die. There is an urgency in that. It pushes the team to the height of their emotions. This is mentioned early in the story as the case “stretched on for five days” with no leads (Rome, 1). In fact, time is often mentioned either in minutes or hours. As the fight breaks out between the reader and Derek the time is “1:15 in the morning.” This is one possible justification for the reader's outburst, but not the real one. Pace is brought up again as Aaron tries to understand what has happened. The reader realizes that their period coming has made them more emotional and they attempt to soothe Aaron. They realize, “[they’ve] gone from screaming to crying to comforting him in all under four minutes” (Rome, 3). The juxtaposition of emotions in such a short time frame has the audience focus on time. On the awkward encounter that has just happened. Pacing is also used to demonstrate Aaron’s care and devotion (even if he isn’t willing to admit to it) to the reader. As he kneels in a puddle on the bathroom floor, holding the reader, we are told, “He’s desperate to know what’s happened with you, but he will kneel here until his knees lock if it means you’ll tell him when you’re comfortable’” (Rome, 8). Aaron is such a stoic character and to see him acting so tenderly, going as far as getting his expensive suit dirty, and his willingness to be in pain shows the audience how much he cares about the reader. The fact that he is willing to be in pain, while the reader is in agony demonstrates his commitment to them. Aaron is one of the oldest members of the team, thus, his kneeling on, cold, hard, tile is not great for his joints. The lowered body position does end up affecting him when he does get up, we are told he  “[lets] out a tiny groan as he stands up” (Rome, 9). The fact that they are both in pain ties the two together in an unspoken way. Aaron both in voice and action going forward, reassures the reader that he is thinking of them. Trying to get them to the hotel and comfort as quickly as possible. He makes statements like, “I won’t be a moment” to let the reader know he is cognizant of time and their discomfort. He drives efficiently, walks with determination, and does his best to be quick at finding the right tampon for the reader. The pacing takes a final turn as they enter the hotel. The times of events have slowly been shortening. These time frames move from days at the beginning of the narrative, to the possibility of hours on bent knees at the middle, and close with small moments. The reader tells Aaron, “Just one second,” as they prepare to change (Rome, 19). When the reader's real identity is revealed to Aaron, in an instant, moves, “[a] large pair of hands flys across the space between you on the bed” (Rome, 20). At the end, in their moment of intimacy, Aaron reflects on his admiration, and love, as the reader takes “short breaths” on his upper arm (Rome,  22). The juxtaposition of these time frames and pacing paired with the emotions of anger, then humor, and finally love leaves the audience feeling comfort and peace with Aaron. 

The main crux of this story is the fact that the reader is feeling heightened dysphoria due to their period and hiding this fact about them from the team and more importantly, from Aaron. Thus the characterization of both the reader and Aaron changes and develops a good deal over the twenty-two pages of text. The reader starts out unsure of why they are so angry. Why has this case been so trying on them that night? The reader is at this point unaware of the unwanted, excruciating bleeding that will start soon. The reader is observed with “eyes welling up seemingly out of nowhere as you note that you are definitely not okay, You just don’t know why” (Rome, 3). Once they are aware of their period coming, the reader is not comforted by the fact. The bodily bloodshed only emphasizes that they do not belong in the body they inhabit. The reader notes, 

The anticipation, your monthly [a] reminder of who you are forced to be, looming right in front of you. When you can feel your grasp on emotions slip just a little bit and those little voices in your head gain a little too much power. The thoughts of how your body doesn’t look anything close to who you feel you are. Rome 5

These painful external reminds pushes the reader to do things they don’t enjoy. To try and conform to some gender norm that does not align with them. The reader has gone as far as wearing makeup to appear more feminine, but all that accomplished was to make them feel like they were “playing a part… wearing a mask,” and “keeping up a facade with the team” (Rome 6). This discomfort continues but is slightly alleviated when Aaron comes to understand that they are on their period, and he reacts with care and compassion instead of a reprimand. At the hotel, the reader is upset again by Aaron's unintentional gendered words. In the bathroom of their hotel room. The shape and feel of their body bothers them, as they look in the mirror and think, “how miserable the stranger in the mirror looks” (Rome, 17). Not even putting on more comfortable clothes is helping, as their thighs appear more womanly in the stretchy fabric. It is not until the revelation is made that the reader’s gender identity lies between the male-female binary, that they fully relax. When they notice the “genuine joy radiating from Aaron,” they know they can fully be themself around him (Rome, 18). And still, the pain persists, but in Aaron’s gentle embrace, they can finally rest. Aaron goes through a similar character transformation. Even at the beginning of the story, it is never stated that he is mad at the reader. He is just very concerned. He is as baffled as the reader as to why they are acting as they are. His thoughts mimic the readers as he thinks, “You're clearly very volatile and on edge. He just can’t figure out why?” (Rome, 3). The parallel in emotions is a foreshadowing of the feelings that Aaron will have at the end of the text. The sound of the reader crying intensifies those latent emotions. As Aaron holds the reader close to him for the first time that night, he thinks that “he couldn’t care less about the surroundings, his hand finding the back of your head to hold you close to his aching heart” (Rome, 4). He continues to be concerned and his emotions are pulled, as he only wants to bring the reader some relief. He is eager to help monetarily by buying an array of period products and painkillers. This is a help, but Aaron wants to physically comfort his agent. His distress over the reader even finds voice in anger, as he insults a burly man unwilling to interact with his partner during her time of the month. At the hotel, there is more comfort for the reader, but he can still see pain in them. This pain is less associated with their period. When he asks for clarity for his own sake, he grows nervous: “He silently prays you aren’t about to begin an interrogation” (Rome, 18).

When all is finally made known, he is ecstatic. As the reader states that they fear their new identity might be a burden to him and the team, he is quick to say, “I want to make you feel as comfortable as I am able to accommodate” (Rome, 18). And in the end, Aaron is able to provide that physical comfort again as he acts as a living heating pad. He envelopes the reader in his body, his warmth. And as he begins to drift off to sleep, he questions his emotions once more, asking the rhetorical question, “Right?” as he sleeps (Rome, 22). Aaron’s character arc is centered around his care of the reader and his feelings for them. There is no dramatic “I love you” but the outpouring of small gestures and care given by Aaron to the reader clearly displays his love of them in all their complexity. 

There are so many other literary devices that are used here such as simile, personification, descriptive language, and imagery. However, the elements examined here felt the most weighty. Held the attention longer. When reading and rereading this work, many times I thought, “God, I wish I was the reader!” And here is the great delight in fanfiction -- you are the reader! Inclusive fanfiction belongs to everyone who wants to be involved. Not all fanfiction attempts this. Not all fanfiction is a reader insert or “x reader” as it is often seen on Tumblr, but to live in a time where such care is given to those often standing on the outside is amazing. It is kindness and care just like Aaron comforting and accepting the reader is kindness and care. I do not mean to say that all media, be it books, movies, or TV shows is not inclusive. Some of it is, and I’m glad for that, but much of the time diversity is added as a bonus, so the creators can pat themselves on the back and say, “We’ve got that group covered at least.” I will continue to give praise to those who give so much of themselves for everyone else. Fanfiction really is a beautiful thing.

[notjustjavierpena]

The Making of Ellie - Part I: Baby-Making

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down. 

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them. 

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets. 

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness. 

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello. 

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too. 

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.” 

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.  

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles. 

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could. 

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips. 

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask. 

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable. 

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter. 

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.” 

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in. 

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.” 

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text. 

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now. 

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues. 

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims. 

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.” 

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal. 

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you. 

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right. 

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right. 

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life. 

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.” 

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved. 

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed. 

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before. 

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become. 

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more. 

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again. 

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.” 

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly. 

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you. 

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy. 

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place. 

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat. 

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come. 

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body. 

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.” 

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil. 

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you. 

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees. 

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms. 

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his. 

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry. 

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back. 

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out. 

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs. 

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.” 

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step. 

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again. 

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it. 

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

.

.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

[horror-beeings-artandwriting]

May I put in a request for Headcannons of your oc's with characters you ship them with?

Of course!!

Prompt: my ocs x canon!

Charcters/ships: Rose Tea x Dark Choco, Fig Brie x Cappuccino, mulberry thorn x pitaya dragon, black iris x elder faerie, and crème caramel x second watcher!

Ship names: blood rose, Courtdate, dragons princess, inky silver, never hunt alone. TW: mentions of fantasy racism, and disability due to accident, mention of arranged marriage(between adults)

A/N this’ll be a long one folks so buckle up!!

Bloodrose: Dark Choco and Rose Tea have been aware of one another since they were children. their parents had a very good relationship. Their parents wanted to try and have them marry one anther once they grew up (only if both of them wanted to of course) but they never got that chance. Rose became the duchess of the kingdom of Tribia. While choco abandoned the cacao kingdom. They met again while he was trying with other members of the cookies of darkness to break into a museum which he thought had something they needed. Rose who was in the exhibit at the time, not knowing who they were or what they wanted kindly informed them, that everything there was in fact a replica. Rose obviously didn't recognize choco, due to the last time she saw him being about 25 years ago and when he was still the young prince, but choco recognized her instantly. due to funnily enough, the way she smelled. That sounds creepy but rose due to the type of cookie she is, smells very strongly of roses, similar to how while lily smells strongly of lilies. Choco remembered a few things about her, mainly her odd mannerisms around other cookies. Choco introduced himself under a false name. Later on, Choco applied to be one of the guards for her. not only to get more information from her, but to see if she would recognize him again. My au focuses on their relationship a bit so that's where I will leave it for bloodrose. :)

Courtdate: Fig Brie cookie and Cappuccino cookie met while he was in law school they started dating during college, then later on got married. They have been married for over 8 years now. Fig works as a court reporter while cappuccino works as a prosecutor. Fig brie cookie isn't actually a cookie, she's a cake, (Similar to Schwarzwalder) she just looks more cookie like, cappuccino is aware of this and doesn't really care. Cappuccino is more introverted while Brie is more extroverted, Very black cat meets golden retriever! Cappuccino is really overprotective over brie due to Fantasy racism. (cakes aren't treated well in canon and that doesn't change in this au) they are an already established relationship in my au :) and play a small role :3

dragons princess: Mulberry and Pitaya get a wonderful start to their relationship, IE Pitaya starts beefing with one of her guards and like any normal princess, knocks them out. They get better I swear!! Pitaya wakes up to mulberry putting ice on their cheek, pitaya is into strong women...so safe to say they start smitten, due to and I quote "She isn't afraid of me, and has a great punch!" Mulberry apologizes for punching them asking them if they are alright, and making them something to eat. as they get to know each other better due to pitaya insisting on helping her out of the dragons valley, they find out she's supposed to get married to someone she hasn't even met before. Pitaya. Doesn't like this. So later that day, pitaya wakes her up, and explains in their extremely subtle way that they are in fact a dragon and they can fake a kidnapping, to get her out of this marriage. Mulberry originally thinks they are kidding, until they show her their wings and tail. Mulberry agrees to this plan, and they pull it off! In the au takes place after this event, so mulberry and pitaya are "Dragon married" idk how to put it, mates? eh, and she resides in the dragons valley. :)

inky silver: morticia and gomez core <3 we love old people in love, and thats what they are! Elder faerie and Black Iris have been married for a couple hundred years at this point, and Iris still looks like she's in her 30s. Due to being vampire <3 they're just very loving towards one another and take on a parental role to while lily when she first comes to the fairy kingdom! Black iris is more reserved, staying behind the curtin, helping him make choices. when they were younger, Iris had just been turned and got chased into beast yeast...she was scared and couldn't go out in the sun anymore. so when Elder Faerie took her in she was grateful. She never hid the fact she was quote "A blood sucking beast" Faerie didn't care though. He uses his wings to cover iris during the day or, has stuff held at night so she can join! Again minor- major role here, since the fairy kingdom wont show up for a while in my au!

never hunt alone: This is the ship between Creme Caramel and Second watcher. Creme was born and raised in the cacao kingdom, her sister is actually caramel arrow cookie. She grew up along side both her sister and the second watcher. Creme caramel was trained to be one of the more ruthless warriors, not to stay in the cacao kingdom but to clean up loose ends after the war. While second watcher became a watcher! After a particularity bad mission Cacao told Creme she could not continue hunting, at for a while and when she got back, she couldn't go alone. Creme, now has to walk with a cane, but her faithful comrade Watcher doesn't let her feel useless, Their relationship similar to Rose tea and Choco builds throughout the AU!

Hope you enjoy, sorry for the wall of text!

[thestarspangledcaptain]

Who/What I Will Write For!

Warning: Mini Essay Ahead

Please Note: If you are requesting, I would prefer if you gave me the desired pronouns for the reader/character!

What I Can / Would Be Comfortable Writing & Or What Topics I Will Cover:

AUs

Expansion of plot lines

Writing for established couples

Reader inserts

Y/N

OC

Any type of romance trope

Platonic relationships

Sibling relationships

Parent relationships (including certain characters as your parent)

Magical beings

Powers

One shots and multi part imagines

LGBTQIA + characters and readers

LGBTQIA + romance

Plot line changes, time changes

Non canonical couples

Canonical couples

Non canon friendships and canon friendships

Small age gaps (when writing for older characters I will made ages fitting with the character) ex: Tony stark. WARNING: If the age gap makes the characters have a legal adult and minor relationship (w the exception of a senior and junior in high school type of thing)

Certain characters (non lgbtq) in lgbtq relationships. For example Natasha Romanoff is a lesbian relationship.

Writings inspired by a song. (I have written work planned out already)

Any shapes and sizes

Angst

Fluff

More steamy scenes (prob up to third base

More serious topics I will cover:

Mental Illness (Anxiety, Depression, Bipolar, Schizophrenia)

Disabilities (From physical to internal)

Health Issues

Eating Disorders

Self harm

Suicidal thoughts / attempts

Dysmorphia and insecurities

Abusive relationships

Bullying

Surgeries

Fainting

Vomiting (due to ED or illness)

Death

(Car)Accidents

Hospitalization

Sexual assault and rape SURVIVORS and sometimes I may write about a character’s recovery and process of coping with something that traumatic

Therapy

Homophobia

Complicated relationships

Adoption

I will NOT Write anything (no hate to those who enjoy reading some of these things, I just personally would not enjoy writing it or be fully comfortable writing it):

Yandere

Furry related things

Omegaverse

I will absolutely NOT change the sexuality of a character if it is specifically stated (ex. Phastos from Eternals, Blaine Anderson, Kurt Hummel, Sebastian Smythe, Santana Lopez, America Chavez)

I will NOT write an age gap more than an absolute max of ten years

I will NOT romanticize things in the serious topics I will write for section. They are serious topics and things such as eating disorders are serious, they should not be romanticized. I write things with heavier topics to help people.

Absolutely NO rape scenes

Inappropriate relationships (college student and professor is an absolute no)

smut

I likely won’t redeem people if they’ve done something incredibly evil

Ok here we go! I apologize for the lack of alphabetical order

Avengers/Marvel:

I will for almost any character (mainly excluding some villains)

Any Peter Parker (just request which one you prefer)

X men

Disney:

The princes

Princesses

Big hero six (I will write for hiro exclusively platonically)

Glee:

From Og Cast up to season 4, including Sebastian smythe and warblers

No Sylvester, or schue romance

Harry Potter:

Golden trio

Weasleys

Draco

Cedric

Cho

Luna

Krum

Fleur

Oliver

Seamus

Neville

Young Marauders

Top Gun (+ TG Maverick):

Maverick

Iceman

Goose

Charlotte “Charlie” Blackwood

Rooster

Hangman (I adore Jake seresin)

Bob

Phoenix

Coyote

Payback

Fanboy

Non Romantic character relationships I will write for in the Top Gun world:

Cyclone

Maverick

Penny

Admiral Cain

Admiral Warlock

Descendants:

Mal

Evie

Carlos

Jay

Doug

Ben

Jane

Lonnie

Audrey

Uma

Harry

Gil

Percy Jackson TO:

Percy

Annabeth

Grover

Luke

Clarisse

Nico

Tyson

Characters of the following actors (so if the listed actor portrayed a character I will write):

Grant Gustin

Chris Evans

Chris Pratt

Chris Hemsworth

Darren Criss

Dove Cameron

Scarlett Johansson

Emma Wattson

Jennifer Lawrence

Emma Stone

Margot Robbie

Glenn Powell

Sydney Sweeney

Andrew Garfield

I will update this list as I get reminded of more people. :) Have a great day, you are loved

[lordelmelloi2]

I feel like if I had just gotten over myself in the first place and started selfshipping openly with Waver I would've maybe been a happier person but without the takeoff of the mastersona community here I wouldn't have had the confidence or like... playing field? to do it in. Idk. It's kind of funny how like. Denying myself that connection like that. Really did impact my life in an insane way. When I look at my old posts from this blog's beginning and from shitpostsaber it doesn't even feel like the same person anymore. Or like. I can't... remember the depth of suffering and aimlessness I was experiencing back then. I had dropped out of college and was struggling with depression and ptsd and chronic illness so bad that I couldn't get myself out of bed most days, and I had no skills or talents I could make a decent living off of. And I was broke. And living with a parent who denied I was mentally ill in the first place, and HIS solution to my disability was to LITERALLY put me back into the cage that caused the brunt of it. He said, and I quote, "Sometimes it only feels like you progress when your back is up against the wall."

And I fucking hate that he was right. The last time I showed any prerogative towards my self survival and progress as a human being was when I had come to ask to live with him in highschool, back when I lived with my mother, and it was like -- something about seeing her flub the act of parenting or caring or being a real person so hard enraged me to the point of taking care of both me and my sibling and then eventually myself. It made me start looking for options to survive and carve a path out for myself. And then he essentially exiled me here, to live with her again, and when I called him and asked for help, he said that; and said Money is Freedom. it was fucking heights of covid lockdown then of course so that wasn't going to happen for another year. But the year after that everything changed rapidly. One by one I started being an adult who put his life together and was able to get his shit together tangibly enough that I could (...most of the time) afford an apartment, a car, utilities, a phone, etc... this was not the kind of person that the person running shitpostsaber could've imagined.

And I don't know what Salter thought either. Salter wasn't capable of thinking about these things. Maybe Salter thought an eternity of self harm based ironic humor was the answer. You can live by being funny, and likable, and hurting yourself for jokes while the secret only being visible to you; the spectacle of online media performance. It's why I'll always have a sort of visceral hatred for the vtuber phenomenon, for the act of separating your Self for performance, for an online audience of in particular People Into Anime And Manga And Games. And Otaku Shit. Right before I ended the blog I was working on putting together a model w/FaceRig for streaming. I'm glad I didn't finish, like many of my projects I had started.

I had to continually deny my self's existence and to overlay it with that presumed Artificiality in order to justify my existence. Because reality isn't desirable, isn't marketable, isn't cute or attractive. My sona now is fat like I am. Has roots coming in. I draw the nose a little crooked in some images, I draw the fat under his chin. I draw thick scratchy eyebrows, fat thighs and belly. He's me now. He is finally me. That representation of me, for all fantasy's worth, is still me. SPSB couldn't comprehend removing that lense of Anime Girl Funny Relatability. Or maybe couldn't imagine claiming this all as their own. Whatever the case may be, I'm freer now. I'm less possessed by trying to be something I'm not -- because I am what I am, and because I acknowledge how I've grown and what principles I operate on. I just am who I am. And all of that that exists with me is me. All the dissociative stuff, all the fatigue, all the frustration, all the issues, the spontaneity, everything. It belongs to me now. Not to the lense.

[bermuda-muda]

「aa, im sleepy」💤💭

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「bermuda / vern － 24 － he/him － bi, poly, taken － infp／melancholic-sanguine／chaotic good／2w1」

art/vtubing twt / personal twt / streaming

fulltime artist, hobbyist vtuber. i draw mostly sick boys when im not making art for merch or commissions. i work for the art company yorunomachi design!! i make merch for vtubers, mostly!!

i really really like kaneki ken!! hes been my special interest for 10 years! hes very very important to me!!! i may spampost, forgive me!

shut-in/hikikomori since 2016, trying to recover!!

disabled! autistic, schizophrenic, ptsd, adhd recovering!! im happy! i also struggle with memory loss. im bad with wording and may talk/type peculiarly! if you need me to reword, pls lmk :)

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my interests:

manga: tokyo ghoul, fool night, houseki no kuni, shuzo oshimi, goblin slayer, to your eternity

games: nier, rune factory, elona, project zomboid, fear and hunger

music: utsup, kikuo, isekaijoucho, mili, nashimoto ui, grim salvo, korn, istasha the scrub, yunosuke, jpop idols

characters: kaneki ken (kuro is my fave version!) 9s, adult brother nier, goblin slayer, kamiya toushiro, cahara, isekaijoucho, flandre scarlet, komeji koishi, akita neru

watch: the boys, the oa, kung fu panda, invincible, gakkou gurashi, vinny vinesauce, jerma985, shark3ozero,

other interests: drawing, photography, anime figures, bjd, streaming, writing, birds, weird things, animecore, otakucore, singing badly, studying jp, psychological horror, media/character analysis (im stupid though), denpa

possible CWs for my art: s/h, suicidal imagery, general horror, maybe body horror, surrealist,

please take care n have a nice day!