#I see it a lot with child abuse too

[shaftking]

Pretty much what I’m getting at. It’s like those social experiments where the guy hitting or yelling at the the girl is immediately met with derision and people attempting to break it up and subdue the guy, but often the reverse is met with ‘I wonder what he did to piss her off.’

Women get a lot of leeway for shit behavior, be it socially, legally, whatever. That’s one reason why I think it’s important to point out this behavior specifically from people who claim to be women’s rights activists. And why it’s doubly difficult to take them seriously while they’re pulling up stats on men’s disproportionate violence while they use common sentiments that women cannot be aggressors to act in a way that is antagonistic purely to get a reaction.

Super weird (read: telling) how radfems constantly talk about how aggressive they think men are but also are constantly trying to push men’s buttons in order to make them react. It’s almost like they are acting specifically in a way to confirm their bias about men being prone to violence and anger by intentionally provoking those normal human emotions to an extreme. Almost as if going out of your way to treat people like shit makes those people upset. They are literally using basic crybully techniques (read: methods of emotional abuse) to make people lash out and then frame themselves as the victim and the other person as evil when it happens.

[bonefall]

ougghhh everyone’s talking so fondly about lionpaw and his new friendships made by the ripwater event but all i can think about is his mention of ashfur’s comment. and how lion probably thinks it’s just a little joke but ash might actually mean it :(

There's this little pearl of a theme hidden in the Ripwater Episode, if you look carefully; abuse acts on people in insidious but subtle ways.

It's Mistystar who's defensive of asking for help or admitting a problem, thinking of what she did to Leopardstar and also repeating cultural sentiment that once victimized her herself.

It's Squirrelflight shouting at her daughter for acting like she used to, because she's spent some years being yelled at in a similar way

It's Hollypaw who isn't allowed to enjoy her achievement of saving Otterpaw's life or lean into how much she has in common with Lakepaw, because she's ashamed of how she did something "wrong" by snooping

And lastly, it's Lionpaw, who's starting to believe the vicious comments that Ashfur says about him. I referenced Willowpelt partially for the sweet little irony of him teaching her recipe to her unknown grandson, Ripplepaw, but ALSO because Ashfur is starting to isolate him.

Willowpelt is the Head of Hunting, currently, a position that Lionblaze is going to succeed her in. I don't think Ashfur is playing 4D chess quite yet, but there's a couple of little motivations knocking around in Ashfur's heart for why he's nasty whenever Lionpaw interacts with her;

Ashfur hates Willowpelt, because of the events from Ferncloud's Parting. He isn't aggressive to her directly, but he does spread rumors and slander whenever possible, happy to remind others of her exile.

Lionpaw getting close to Willowpelt will annoy him. Ashfur both hates and resents his apprentice, but also feels POSSESSIVE of him. He feels like Willowpelt will "steal" what's his.

A simple but hard truth; Ashfur wants Lionpaw to hurt. Maybe Ashfur sees it in his head like "telling the hard truth" or "toughening his apprentice up," but when he makes those malicious little comments, makes him recoil with hurt, it feels righteous.

Maybe in the next draft, it should actually be Ashfur, not Blackclaw, who comes to growl at Lionpaw for bonding with Lakepaw over the spears. Maybe have Willowpelt come in to show them how to properly use one and that's actually what set Ash off. Like he just used xenophobia because it was convenient in that moment.

[pergaminaa]

Manon would have doubts about being a good mother to her little witchling. It’s a feeling that never goes away and she terrified of acting like her grandmother because it’s literally the only thing she knows.

She’s aware that what her grandmother did was no way to be around a child. This, and the fact that Manon is a good person with a lot of repressed love, was why she is nothing like her grandmother. But she doesn’t see it that way. She is haunted by her past and her own nightmarish childhood. She hangs on every mistake, wonders if she could have said something better— wonders if her witchling is better off being around Dorian more than her (because she believes that she will do some irrecoverable damage to her, and the thought literally keeps her up at night)

Dorian is there to always assure her that she’s nothing like her grandmother. He hates that after so long without her, she still has her clutches around Manon, ensuring that her voice is the only thing leading Manon.

He knows that she isn’t like her at all. And he will never tire of reminding her of it every single day.

This has become easier with their witchling getting older. Now, he can easily just point at the toddler, who would be in various positions on their bed at night ‘because I get bad dreams in my bed and only get good dreams in your bed’ as she would argue.

He notices how the witchling is casual about it. She comes into their room, climbs up their bed, plops down next to her mom while holding on to something so that she doesn’t get carried to her room (toddler logic). To Dorian, this display alone is enough.

He tells Manon that if she was anything like she thinks she is, their witchling wouldn’t be feeling this safe around her. She is always around her mother, following her around and preferring to stay with her as opposed to playing with the other children. If their witchling is feeling unsafe, she wouldn’t be doing any of that.

“Look at her,” He points at the sleeping child in their bed once again. Her head is resting on Manon’s stomach, while she almost hogged her mother all to herself.

“You’re doing great with her, witchling,” He winks. Adding a little playfulness while being serious.

The Blackbeak Matron killed her own daughter and almost killed her granddaughter. Manon is nothing like her, and he will never tire of reminding her of that.

Because even the formidable Queen of the Witches needs a gentle reminder from time to time.

[shiningneedlecastle]

So like. Maybe it's an ironic joking thing, but sometimes the tags on your posts/reblogs make me feel concerned, so like. Are you doing ok? Do you wanna talk about it?

yeah it's not really ironic joking, not gonna lie i'm doing quite badly irl what with how badly the american education system is structured (especially medical education and how particularly hellish it can get). i don't wanna burden you with the sheer weight of all this horrible shit and i don't spend much time on here anymore. but thank you for the offer though, sincerely

[thesummerstorms]

Sally Jackson vs Bruce Wayne.

Not Batman. Bruce Wayne.

[glittertimes]

I think I finally understand what’s at the root of all my weird little problems and why I have such a hard time connecting with my body.

I do so much work to read and be smart as a defensive mechanism because I’m a really kind caring person and that makes me a little naive and I look a lot younger than I am so I feel like people think I’m easy to manipulate.

But then there’s a part of me that feels like it’s not safe to be smart, and that sounds so weird and counterintuitive but I realized it’s because I’m terrified of being seen.

Like if I’m smart I’m going to have to act on it and challenge people and that’ll bring attention on me that I don’t want to deal with so I’ll continue to be the kind naive nice girl even if people are mistreating me because it’s not safe to be seen it’s not safe to be smart.

Like my body will not use basic protection methods like setting boundaries, saying no or standing up for myself because that requires me to get over that fear of being seen. Like my body fears being seen more than it fears being mistreated and that’s kind of terrifying.

[soubiapologist]

ok so i've speculated on what kind of home environment[s] mimuro and mei might have before but like the kind of home environment that produces people who just like lie like that. well. smiles.

[celestial-sapphicss]

it's good that i already don't like jim as a guardian so i am not affected by wheather jim being homophobic in the previews is accurate or out of context, i do worry for little li ming though 😭

"but vi he's tryin-" no i have ZERO empathy and understanding for any bad guardian/parent. i don't care if you have trauma, i don't care if you're poor, i don't care about how difficult your like is, i don't care how much you love the kid but struggle to show it.

if you have to take care of a kid, you do so with love and affection and care regardless or your circumstances, which jim is not the best at, which automatically makes me dislike him as a character, no greys, only black & white.

yes you make mistakes as a parent, but you can always make it up to them, and it costs literally nothing to be kind. stop projecting your problems on your children

[giantkillerjack]

pssst.... there are a lot of queer christians! their experiences and faith are valid. it sucks you weren't able to jive with the church, but don't act like its impossible because of your sexuality when many other lgbt folx have managed just fine

My friend, you do you, but being a faggot dyke tranny helped keep me out of an abusive organization, and for me and all of my formerly religious friends, that is that.

[snekdood]

ig my problem with the whole bullying thing is that so many of the leftists who do it self identify as communists of some type or really emphasizes community.... but clearly doesn't care about actually cultivating an environment where everyone in the community feels safe and welcome..........

[knaveofmogadore]

I GOT BANNED FROM REDDIT LMAO

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Despite Danny's best efforts, no matter how much time past, Amity Park refused to see Phantom as a hero.

Sure, there were pockets of support, particularly among teens, but most of the town blames Phantom for the property damage, saying if he didn't fight the ghosts then it wouldn't be so bad, to that time he got mind controlled by Freakshow and "attacked" the mayor. It wears him down. It wears Tucker and Sam down. Jazz can only try to support them all.

Then one day, a member of the Justice League visits. Someone minor, and kinda a jerk... maybe a Wonder Twin? Zan? Whatever. They don't investigate; they don't look deeper. They listen to the town folks and declare the ghost hunters, Red Huntress and the Fentons, to be the official heroes of the town.

Worse? Danny Phantom is officially considered a villain to the Justice League. Tuck hacks into the Watchtower and confirms that they have a file (a heavily inaccurate file) about how to defeat Phantom.

Danny doesn't think he can do this anymore.

A few weeks later, a young villain escapes into Amity and demands (begs) that Danny help them escape from the hero after them. No idea who, I can't find a lot of info on teen villains in DC, so let's fudge some ages and make it Kyd Wyckyd from the Teen Titans cartoon. Danny agrees, because to hell with the Justice Losers, and they defeat the hero, becoming friends in the process. Kyd confesses that they became a villain after being ostracized bc of how they look, and they've been trying to avoid villain organizations because HIVE was abusive, but it's really hard to be a villain alone bc of all the heroes.

Sam gets an idea. Tucker agrees with the idea. Jazz is just happy they'll end up making friends.

The next day, the Teen Villain Alliance is formed, ready to assist with any teenage illegal shenanigans their allies might get into.

Some notes:

It's created to be a healthier option for teen "villains" to connect with others and support each other.

It's more important that this is for Teens rather than Villains. They're tired of adult villains taking advantage of them. The TVA would rather ally with a teen vigilante than with an adult villain.

Again, no idea who the teen villains are, but Klarion is definitely here. He leaves the Light for the chaos of the TVA. Maybe Ember is there too?

Timeline wise, this is around when Tim is still Robin, but Damien has arrived at Wayne Manor.

This is because, when it comes time to try to infiltrate the TVA, they'll have a convenient child-assassin who has none of the monitors of a teen hero that Phantom immediately picks up on.

Damien, who at this point has been abandoned by his mother, dismissed and scolded by his father, and has had no success at carving his own place in the family, jumps at the chance. He is then surrounded by peers who don't insult him or try to change his behavior (too much; jazz is trying to help him find healthier methods of expressing himself). He... might not want to continue being a spy.

Danny, Sam, Tuck, and Jazz are the founding members.

Danny reinvents himself as the High Prince of the Infinite, Prince Phantom Dark. He got kingship from fighting Pariah Dark, but since he's still alive, he's only a prince. He steals the last name Dark as an intimidation tatic against those in the know; only Danny would have the balls to claim family with Pariah.

Sam works as a powerless villain, but she might no be powerless? Either way, Danny gives her a bunch of repurposed Fenton tech, and she buys the rest with her parents credit card. She does NOT care if that's traced back to the Mansons. She would choose something goth, maybe something spider related or even bat?

I love Pharaoh Tucker, so I think he should get magic powers? Since pharaohs of old were considered the balance between the real and the divine. He's still a tech guy, now he's a tech and magic guy.

Jazz isn't really a villain, more of a team mom who's planning on using everyone's psyche's as her thesis paper. You know what, that's her callsign, she's Psyche. Sometimes she flirts with Nightwing.

[listen-to-the-inner-walrus]

@teapunks did your mum ever threaten to put mustard on your fingernails to stop you biting them? because by my count 6 different adults directly threatened me with that or mentioned it in a "in my day, they would do this so youre lucky i havent done that to you".

the direct threats came from my dad, my paternal nan and my maternal great aunt while the guilt-trip-that-always-felt-like-a-threat-to-me came from my paternal aunt, the other classes' year 4 teacher and an english teacher who wasnt even my english teacher, for anyone curious.

you could reblog for a bigger sample size or not who do i look like the freakin queen of england

[luveline]

(𝐢𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞) 𝐡𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧

Steve hears you wrong, thinks he’s your boyfriend, and begins to act accordingly. You try your best to go along with it until you can’t anymore. 3k, fem. requested here ♡ 

cw shy(ish)!reader, misunderstandings, steve being a huge sweetheart, fluff, hurt/comfort, bonus fluff scene 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The arcade is loud and brisk this evening, doors thrown open to allow for the constant ebb and flow of younglings, the machine music turned up to account for so many voices. You’re lost in a sea of rainbow flashing lights and the ticklish smell of sugar. Without Steve’s hand behind your shoulder, you’re pretty sure you would’ve gotten lost and trampled half an hour ago. 

A candy necklace pinwheels past your heads like a torpedo, forcing you closer together, your shoulders tight with a flinch. 

“We can leave,” Steve says immediately. He’s weirdly thoughtful. Before he asked you out you had no idea he thought so much about other people, but he’s always thinking about other people. You could argue he thinks a little too much, like you. 

“I wanna see Max.” 

“She has to be here somewhere.” 

That theory proves less and less likely. Steve’s hand falls away from you, tugging through his hair in a marker of stress as you circle the Palace Arcade for the tenth time. “Maybe she quit?” you suggest. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinch together as he gives the arcade another sweep. Max’s rough patch freaked him out, as it freaked you out, because ‘rough patch’ is a kind way to describe it. She could’ve got a whole lot worse; she was suffering, capital S. It’s nice to see her returning to society, but not if she isn’t actually settling in. That’s the whole reason you’re here. 

Steve frowns at you worriedly. 

“Who died?” asks a new voice.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. “Max!” Steve cheers. 

“That’s me,” Max says, looking at you both sceptically. Her ginger hair is pulled into two tight braids either side of her face, her cheeks flushed red. Mascara paints her usually pale lashes a darker brown, and a rosy tinted chapstick shines on her lips. 

“Hey, the uniform looks good on you,” he says affectionately. “You look like a valued member of society.”

“A society in need of better labour laws. I’m pretty sure this is child abuse.” She rolls her eyes. 

“Is it awful?” you ask. 

“It’s fine. Better when your stupid friends aren’t here making themselves sick on candy like they’re nine years old,” she says pointedly to Steve. “Are you going to throw up too? You look–” she grimaces in place of insult. 

“Who’s throwing up?” you ask. 

“Dustin. He’s outside.” 

Steve sighs and gives your shoulder a kind squeeze. “I’ll be right back,” he says, squaring his expression. “Goddamn kids.” 

He sounds like an old man, you think to yourself with a small smile. Disgruntled, he still goes to make sure everyone’s alright. He’s nice, even when that nice is begrudging and tiresome and plain gross sometimes. 

“Why are you smiling at him like that?” Max asks.

You school your impression. “Like what?” 

“Like you like him.” 

You shake your head. “Tell me about work, Max. What’s it like here? Are they giving you your breaks?” 

She drags you over to the counter to sit in the seat waiting behind. She glares at any kid who approaches, but besides that she seems in good spirits. The job isn’t hard, it’s just a job. She’d much rather be at home reading, but wouldn’t everyone? “And I get this sweet uniform,” she says, pointing at the embroidered icon on her shirt pocket. “What’s with you and Steve?” 

“Nothing,” you say, though it’s something. You’re mortified to have been caught having feelings. 

“Looks like something. Are you dating?” 

“I mean, this is a date,” you say, almost whispering as heat floods your face. “But we’re not together.” 

“He was touching you a lot.” 

“Max, he’s really nice. He’s a really nice guy,” you say gently, “and we’re not together, but if he does ask me out eventually, maybe I’ll say yes.” You realise what you’re saying and attempt to backtrack —you do like Steve, but Max doesn’t need to know that. “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend,” you say strangely. 

“Ew,” Max says with a laugh. 

“Not ew,” you correct. You hadn’t meant it in a bad way, it’s— 

“Not ew,” Steve says from behind you, his arm a heavy weight across your shoulder. 

You look wide-eyed up at his face, surprised by his huge beaming smile, an intense loveliness about him as he gives you a half hug. 

“What’s ew about that?” he asks you softly. 

Oh, boy, you think. 

As it turns out, being Steve’s girlfriend is kind of nice, but you aren’t ready.

From that afternoon at the Palace Arcade onward, he treats you like you’re made of gold. And it’s great, he’s so kind, he brings you flowers and takes you out for breakfast, where he pays the tab without any flourishes and talks to you as casually as always. You almost hope he hasn’t got it wrong at all, and that his soft tone a few days ago had been down to a brief overwhelming fondness. You’d get that. You have your moments with him, you’re falling for him, and it’s only a matter of time before you’re desperately in love, you’re sure, but then the waitress asks if you need anything else and he says, “Just a water for my girl,” and you realise you’re not getting off easy. 

Dating is sort of like being good friends; you’d planned to spend the day together anyways. You enjoy his company. It’s clear he’s eager, optioning off the day’s agenda as you return to the car, the bottom of your face hidden in your bouquet. 

“We could go to the movies,” he says, opening the passenger door, his smile seemingly permanent as you climb inside. “No science fiction, I promise.” 

“I kind of like sci-fi.” Petals press fragrant to your top lip.

“Well, we don’t have to go to the Hawk. We could go into the city. I bet they’re playing any movie you wanna see.” He checks that your leg is properly inside the car before he closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side and practically throwing himself inside. He’s giggling like a kid. “Shit, I’ll see anything you want to.” 

“Steve.” 

“Or we can go do nothing? Until dinner.” 

“Steve,” you say again, thinking you’ll tell him. Nothing good ever comes from dishonesty. 

“What?” he asks. 

His eyes are so brown. Billions of people with brown eyes and you swear you’ve never seen anything like it before, their centres like hot honey, the sweetheart shape to them when he smiles 

You sigh. His smile is contagious, even while your stomach hurts. “Nothing. Let’s go see a movie.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“What?” 

“What do you mean, what? You sounded weird.” 

“I sounded weird?” 

“No!” He winces. “I mean, yeah, you sounded weird for you, like you… I don’t know. Sorry.” 

You feel bad, then. His apology is earnest, his hand resting open on the console for you to take if you could manage the flustering heat of it. 

“I wanna go to the movies,” you say, ‘cos you really do. 

“Alright, good. It’s just, I think my last relationship, I– I didn’t pay enough attention, and I want to do that better this time around. So yeah. Sorry.” 

Oh, Steve, you think. How are you supposed to tell him now? You’re gonna have to pretend to be ready for a relationship with him until you really are, it seems. He doesn’t deserve to have his heart played with twice. 

“Don’t be sorry,” you say gently. “Let’s go watch a movie, okay? I want to go, with you, we’ll watch a shitty daytime flick and then get dinner after. It’ll be fun.” 

You aren’t lying to him about what you want. It’s clear to everybody, Steve and his friends and especially you, that you like him, that you want to be around him and make him laugh. Maybe being his girlfriend won’t even be that different to being his something. 

After all, what’s romantic about seeing a movie? 

“You good?” he asks, half an hour later, your agony prolonged. 

You’re at the back of the movies where the seats have the most leg room, more popcorn and candy than you could ever eat at your feet and a litre cup stuffed into the armrest between you. Steve is tucking his shirt back into his jeans, his head parting the light of the projector and leaving a silhouette in the previews. 

“Steve,” you advise, gesturing for him to lean down out of the way. 

He leans down, further and further, face to face with you with his hands on his hips. A flirtatious teasing makes its way onto his lips. “What?” he asks, amused. 

“You were in the way of the light.” 

“That what it was?”

“Seriously!” you whisper-shout, laughing despite yourself. 

“You’re so cute,” he whispers back. “Want to take your jacket off?” 

Your lips part at his good suggestion. You hold your arm out and start to peel from your jacket, but he takes your sleeve and helps you out of it before folding it and sitting in the seat next to you, your jacket on his thigh. “How’s that, babe?” he asks. 

“It’s good.” 

“Okay, perfect.” He beams at you. He’s always smiling when he’s with you, like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. Like he loves you. “Tell me if you need something, yeah? I know you’re kinda shy.” 

He settles back in his seat with your jacket still in his lap and no indication that he might want to move it. Your knees touch as he relaxes, your knuckles as he puts his arm on the rest between you, a picture of contentedness as the movie begins and the opening credits play. “That’s us,” he says without looking at you. 

Two people walk down the street holding hands as the title of the movie blazes in yellow font with thick red outlines. A Day In Paradise! 

You bite down on a slither of the inside of your lip until it stings. You try to fight it off but the longer you sit there, the more your eyes burn, thinking about Steve and what he deserves and how unfortunate this whole thing is, and yeah, you’re overwhelmed, too. You aren’t ready for so much sweetness all at once. You don’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve this. 

You force the tears away. The movie goes on and on, the lights low, the chatter of moviegoers and the occasional popcorn crush not nearly loud enough to cover the sound of Steve’s breathing. 

He pushes his hair out of his face. Somebody on screen makes a joke, his hand brushes against yours, and then takes it gently as he laughs. 

You pull your hand away and tip your head down, a frantic tear flicking from your lashes. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You try to answer. You whimper instead, a terrible, sorry sound stuck to your throat —you can’t hold it in anymore. It’s too much. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumble tearily, looking up, a tear rolling fast down the bump of your cheek. 

Steve sits still in moderate horror. “Why are you crying?” he whispers.

The thing about Steve that people tend to forget is that, while he takes care of people the best that he can, he’s really young. He doesn’t always know what to do. He stares at you now like you’re a foreign object, hand tucked back into his abdomen. 

A tear drips onto your lip. It tastes salty. “Sorry,” you say. 

“Why?” he asks, dumbfounded.

“I really like you, Steve.” 

He stares at you. “…But?”

“But I–” His frown hurts your heart. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this, I never– never had someone like me like this, I don’t know why I’m crying.” You say that last part to yourself rather than him, scrubbing your cheeks with your hands roughly before hiding your face completely. “It’s not you.” 

“I thought…” And of course he did. 

“I know,” you say. “I’m sorry, Steve. I thought it wouldn’t matter but everything’s going so fast.” 

He touches your arm gently. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought you wanted this. You– you said I was your boyfriend, to Max? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you,” you insist, meeting his eyes. 

“Can I wipe your tears away? They’re everywhere,” he says. You struggle to read his expression, but there’s no resentment or anger there for you. He looks quite serious. 

“Yeah.” 

Steve bends in his seat to wipe your tears off of your face gently. They really are everywhere, on your cheeks, your top lip, your chin, even down the arc of your neck. “I don’t understand,” he says, going back to your cheek for a missed streak, “but you don’t have to be upset. Please. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do, I promise.” 

“Steve, when I was talking to Max, I said,” —you wince— “that it’s not like you’re my boyfriend. She was asking me about you, and I got all panicky because I like you, but I’m too weird about this stuff, I’m panicking now–”

“Don’t.” His hand lingers on your face, before a sorry flash of dejection passes over him, and he drops your face altogether. 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen. Please believe me.” 

“Of course I believe you.” He grimaces at you, and the heartbreak turns to something more manageable, like he’s brushing himself off. “I’m sorry. For getting the wrong idea.” 

“I like you,” you whisper. Your voice is nearly lost to the rustle of popcorn and drinks. 

“I like you too!” he says loudly. 

A few seats down, somebody turns, an angry whirl of hair and clicky nails. “Can you guys shut up?” 

You and Steve leave your mountain of snacks behind to stand in the theatre hallway, where the winter air is cool on your flushed skin, and the silence is stifling. You lean against a wood feature wall and try to calm down, because he’s the one who should be upset (or maybe he’s not that fussed about you). He stands a half foot away with his arms crossed, looking down at his shoes, though occasionally he glances at you for a split-second and looks away again. 

“You okay?” he asks tightly. 

“I’m sorry.”

He pokes his cheek with his tongue. “So you don’t want to be together?” 

You don’t know. He deserves the truth, even if you barely understand it yourself, and it stings to say. “I do, I like you, but I… I want to take things slowly.” 

He stands there without talking for a while. When he does talk again, he’s laughing, that achy awful sadness he’d worn a far off memory. “You’re this upset because you want us to take things slow?” 

“I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” 

“You haven’t,” he promises. “That would never hurt my feelings. I knew when I heard it that it was too good to be true.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I guess I gotta earn the title like everybody else does. Is that… cool?” 

You nod vehemently. 

Steve blows a relieved breath of air up his face, his hair ruffling off of his forehead. “I thought I was gonna lose you completely,” he says, smiling. “This is fine. I can work with slow. Slow’s my middle name.”

—♡—

The sun is a blistering heat today. “Can’t believe it’s only spring,” you murmur, eyes covered by the back of your arm. 

A weight sits down on the blanket beside you, the sound of dry grass crushed underfoot. He brings the fresh scent of lemon slices with him, the zest sticking to his hands.

“I think I might melt.” 

“I’d never let that happen,” Steve says, laying down beside you. 

“You can be my parasol.” 

“Your what?” 

“It’s a sun umbrella.” 

“Like this?” he asks, gently laying himself across your front, his face on the slip of your stomach that’s bare, his arms sneaking behind your thighs to hug them as you bring them up. 

You reach down to stroke his hair, taking your fingers through the silky lengths of it, fingernails scratching ever so slightly at his scalp. “Thanks,” you say.

He kisses your naked leg. “You’re welcome, honey.” 

If he’d done that at the beginning of your relationship, you’d have frozen up; not because he would’ve done it differently, not because he wasn't always your handsome sweetheart, but because being comfortable with someone this intimately takes time, and that’s okay. 

“Your face is digging into my hip,” you murmur. 

He shifts back, his ear above your belly button. “Is that better?” 

“That’s perfect.” 

“Are you falling asleep?” he asks softly. 

“No… I’m thinking.” 

“Nothing good ever comes of that.” 

“I have something I want to talk to you about.”

“I love talking to you,” he says. He sounds as though he might fall asleep himself, his tongue heavy in his mouth. 

You stroke his hair away from his face by touch alone. Long, warm minutes pass without conversation. You aren’t scared to tell him how you’re feeling. He’s proved to you over time that he’s someone you’ll always be able to trust, and that whatever you have to say will hold weight. 

“It’s a question.” 

He turns in your hold to face you. You raise your arm, greeted by the image of him sun-kissed and lazing, laid out across you without a care in the world. 

“Don’t tell me then,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Jesus, you’re terrifying.” 

“Would you wanna be my boyfriend?”

He narrows his eyes at you. A myriad of emotions pass between you both, until he’s smiling, and you know he’s sitting up for a kiss seconds before he actually does. He presses his lips to yours carefully. “Baby,” he says as he pulls away, voice as mild as his soft kiss, “I think we’ve passed that point.” 

“I realised I’d never asked you, is all.” 

His hair falls down into his eyes. You tuck it behind his ear. It’s pretty clear now you’re together, even after such a bumpy start. 

“Can I get it in writing this time?” he asks, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours, your eyes fluttering closed in tandem. 

“Give you anything you want if you kiss me,” you murmur. 

His laugh fans over your lips. He cups your cheek, your heart a hummingbird drilling at your ribs as Steve moves in to kiss you properly. Your lips part under the pressure, your head tilting a touch to one side to accommodate him as he searches down for you, melty hot pleasure and nerves that never seem to fade arising as his thumb moves up your cheek, a semi-circle of touch. It promises undulating care whenever you want it. 

You tip your head aside to catch your breath.

“Better late than never,” you joke. 

Steve talks into the soft skin beside your mouth. “You weren’t late, babe. I was early, and I didn’t mind waiting.” 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank u for reading!! pretty please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed cos it means so much to me and inspires me to write even more!!! but either way i hope u enjoyed❤️❤️❤️

[sunderwight]

A fun prospect for Superhero-themed SV AU's that I don't often see is genre dissonance. Like, Luo Binghe as this edgy 90's style antihero who just straight up kills his enemies and sleeps around and is driven by selfish motives (revenge, ambition, etc) rather than altruistic morality, vs Shen Qingqiu as this kid-friendly supervillain who is "evil" mostly in terms of aesthetics and his ability to make inconvenient problems that are reasonably safe for child heroes to solve. Something like Punisher vs Team Rocket in terms of vibes.

Maybe the reason they meet is because some big publishing house akin to Marvel or DC just bought up the rights to whole bunch of older, discontinued comics titles, and decided to do a Justice League/Avengers style mash-up with a bunch of nostalgia properties and their most recognizable heroes and villains. Which means lots of crossovers condensing several titles into a handful of series.

Luo Binghe's origin always features him as a teenager, so he reboots as the youngest Avenger-equivalent team member in the new continuity. Even in this reboot, however, the writers still mostly go the gritty and dark route with his plots and stick to the same key developments -- his abandonment as an infant, his adoptive mother's tragic death, his tough life on the streets, abusive mentors and backstabbing "allies", and so on.

But Luo Binghe's life suddenly starts experiencing periods of dramatic change in his life when he's brought in for appearances in the lighter, friendlier world of the Junior Heroes continuity. After all, he's a natural choice for tying the two continuities together thanks to his youthfulness. Luo Binghe isn't consciously aware of the fact that he's moving between different titles and different writers. All he knows is that sometimes, when he hangs out with the bright and talented Ning Yingying, he's drawn into "conflicts" with Shen Qingqiu -- the kind of "villain" who will call for tea breaks, never actually hits anyone when he shoots his ray gun, leaves clues for all of his crimes, and can't seem to stop from imparting genuinely helpful advice in between his witty quips and taunts.

When Luo Binghe fights Shen Qingqiu, somehow he never actually gets hurt. Neither do any of his friends. The world in general seems brighter and lighter, as if there is some secret barrier protecting everyone from all the evils Binghe knows only too well exist in the rest of his life. Luo Binghe is increasingly convinced that Shen Qingqiu is the source of this mystical safety net. After all, for an allegedly powerful genius who is able to fool half the world about his wicked aims, he's never won a single fight against a kindhearted but somewhat ditzy teenager and her ragtag bunch of friends!

So what's he spending his actual energy on?

Luo Binghe is pretty sure it's keeping the real evils at bay. Making himself the biggest bad in town, and in doing that, making it so that the "biggest bad" is nothing worse than a slightly judgmental teacher in a pretty costume.

It's not long before Luo Binghe doesn't want to go back to the Justice League equivalent, to his world of misery and strife, even after his visits with Ning Yingying are supposed to be over. Especially as the global stakes of various heroic activities start getting higher, and it becomes clear that the boundary between Shen Qingqiu's safe world and the grimdark reality of Binghe's usual life are getting thinner...

[rickktish]

I’ve got a couple of hot takes and there’s nuance to them but I don’t have a whole lot of brain power so I might leave it as-is and elaborate only if asked:

-The kind of people who engage in fandom and specifically those who write fanfiction tend to belong to the same categories of people/sets of identities which are likely to fall victim to the “white people have no culture” lie and therefore like to spice up their writing by diversifying the cast in ways they view as meaningful or reflective of those characters’ personal arcs/histories, which unfortunately means leaning on a lot of stereotypes and accidentally perpetuating, consciously or unconsciously, those stereotypes. (Is anyone else bothered by the prevalence of latino Jason “drug crime lord” Todd headcanons? I don’t speak up about it often but it frequently feels legitimately uncomfy to me. Also while it’s fun to mess around with various flavors of Asian Tim “the smart Robin” Drake, there are some very uncomfortable discussions which ought to be had about why he gets headcanoned as east Asian specifically— usually Korean from what I’ve seen but also frequently Chinese and Japanese— when the fanon interpretation of his character can basically be boiled down to “good with computers, terrible/abusive/neglectful bio parents with unreasonably high standards/expectations, child genius.” Like maybe critically examine your tropes before applying them wholesale is what i’m saying)

-readheads are an unrecognized minority and have historically been and are still in some places presently subjected to the same kinds of stereotyping, discrimination, and fetishization that recognized racial minorities face. The only difference is that discrimination against poc has frequently been legally mandated throughout western history whereas that against redheads has been largely (though not exclusively) cultural. Think for a minute about how many redheaded characters have been replaced by black actors in live action adaptations in recent years and understand that redheads have been on-screen shorthand for “acceptable token diversity” for longer than probably any of us care to think about and they are losing that status as black characters begin to take that place in widespread visual media. Race swapping the Gordons specifically, while pulled off extremely well by a beautifully talented actor in The Batman 2022, is actively participating in the erasure of redheaded characters, especially ones whose roles are more complex than “femme fatale” or “the spitfire,” (or both), from screen

I'm not necessarily against race-swapping hcs and whatnot, but I do think the Bat-Family fandom has a tendency to ignore the actual POC members of the Bat-Family in favor for their hcs, lmfao.

Like I've seen Asian Tim and Babs hcs and I'm like... you do know Cass and Damian are literally right there, you don't have to do that. 😭