#when i was younger its gross to see people just

[pngjamie]

as long as it's fictional or semi-fictional characers and tagged properly, i don't think there should be any problem with proshippers. don't you think this moral-policing is totally backwords /gen ? the internet was, is, and will be wild, and it's not like anyone shipped is getting hurt because, again, they're fictional (case differs for nonfictional characters)

Im not worried about fictional characters? i know theyre not real even if its gross to be desensitized like that, im talking about real people and the the real affects ive firsthand seen for years that people in vulnerable mental states or younger kids get from having incest, pedophilia and abuse normalized to them. Again not just normalized but romanticized and fetishized. I dont specifically get what you mean by "the internet is and will be wild" though I will readily say I generally agree, however that doesn't mean im gonna become complacent with the normalization + desensitization of shit like proshipping??? Obviously im just some guy I cant change the internet, but I will always do my best to educate and help police the communities im in and the community made by my works. If things were completely hidden incredibly hard to find and constantly had "its bad, this is fiction, its dangerous" and that was a HEAVY Forefront emphasis I'd maybe let up a little if not for the remaining desensitization and normalization of literal abuse, pedophilia and incest but again that's not what I ever see. Let alone why this conversation started to begin with its people going "idc, these characters are cute<3" and not disclaiming or clarifying anywhere that proshipping is incredibly wrong. I dont mind being questioned if never explained to you/others before but to you and any others, continuing to ask "okay but its not real so who cares it doesnt affect anyone" is just, ignoring my points. If you truly genuinely see no wrong in it and youre here to make your point clear, not to challenge your thinking, then disrespectfully get off my page and block me. I am making it clear now and will always make it clear, I am not changing my mind on this. I have seen the effect normalization of proshipping has on people and its revolting and traumatizing to see. Ive in the past debated with myself to make sure i felt confident on having such a strong opinion and ive had my mind settled SINCE then and its not changing.

[barneysbigstompers]

indont understand the appeal of 4chan or thr dark web honestly or even liveleak when it was still up and running ooo speaking of liveleak

[r0semultiverse]

I don’t know, me personally, I just think two adults playing pretend & pretending being gross together with full open communication & consent between them is harmless, but maybe that’s just me.

[princessefemmelesbian]

Just saw this on Quora and wtf:

I may not like Madoka Magica(and in fact anyone who follows me for long enough will know that I hate that anime with a burning passion), but even so that still doesn't make comments like this okay.

I am so tired of people acting like lesbianism(and non-straight identities in general but in this case we're talking about lesbians) is inherently sexual, deviant, and inappropriate. These are the same type of people who think that kids can't be gay or even be told about the possibility of homosexuality because it will groom their young minds or something, as if being gay is something you're groomed into being. And I am sick of people acting like a character can't be gay/lesbian because it doesn't fit their personality or because they're a child or because they're "innocent" or some stupid-ass shit like you're just reinforcing the idea that straight is the default and that straight is morally more pure and "normal" and acceptable than being gay. I bet Larry Koopa doesn't care if a kid the same age as or younger than Madoka(who is 14) is portrayed as straight, because to them that's not inherently sexual the way that being gay is. But a kid being gay? Now don't you think that's going a little bit too far?

This person definitely thinks that all lesbians are mean and hateful and bitter, probably because they measure a woman's level of decency in accordance to how attracted to men they are(which is how we got that ugly fucking "mean bisexual, even meaner lesbian" joke in the first place).

I agree with Peyton Peyons. Madoka is a lesbian, end of story, and nobody gives a shit whether you want to call her your waifu or not, because she doesn't even know you exist. Get out of her, dawg.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[cws: non-detailed discussion of both fictional and irl SA/CSA/abuse dynamics, apologia for the previous, homophobia, fetishization of wlw, and anti rhetoric.]

-

having a lot of thoughts about the wider fandom's treatment of the various abuse dynamics present in sdmi--supposedly in the name of being anti-abuse--and how instead it's propagated deeply anti-survivor/abuse apologist sentiment and behavior through where they choose to apply that rhetoric, and where they choose to look the other way.

(first off, if you're someone who does not and has not done this, thank you from the bottom of my heart. second, this is not at all exhaustive of my feelings on the subject and there will probably be more posts about these dynamics and people's behavior toward them in future. as you can imagine by the length of this post that is saying something lmao)

one of the reasons i feel as strongly as i do about the way both canon and fandom have historically been about pericles, pericky, and shitting on anyone who likes them because it Normalizes Abuse(tm), is that their fans are pretty open and emphatic about the fact that it's Fucked Up. it's why we find it compelling. it is vanishingly rare that we don't.

meanwhile, velma is the UwU Cute Sassy Lesbian Icon whose relationship with shaggy was Cringy and Immature (and mutually so 🙃) at worst, when it directly mirrored such visceral aspects of my experience with CSA that i almost threw up rewatching the second episode.

and that's not even getting into how normalized it is for women to abuse men in a relationship, in broad fucking daylight in front of other people, and how men are supposed to Always Want It and it's an insult if they don't, and how the vast majority of CSA--which it overtly is in shaggy's case, he is implied not to be an adult yet--is perpetrated by other kids.

and it's also not getting into the fact that the ~cute lesbian relationship~ is almost certainly going to end up with the other queer girl in the show also being abused, because abusers are not Magically Cured by True Queer Love's Kiss. how it is incredibly difficult for survivors of abuse in a wlw relationship to be acknowledged or get support because then they'd be a Traitor, or people would rather maintain the feel-good fuzzy feelings wlw exist to give them, or they're closeted and it's not safe to let people know they're in a relationship with a woman. how queer relationships, especially between women, are fetishized as cute pure healthy fairytale romances and not dynamics involving real people who might harm each other or be harmed and need help.

and that's not even getting into the fact that mlm are seen as inherently predatory to an extent that the majority of other queer identities are not. how older queer men grooming boys is a classic homophobic stereotype used to justify violence toward them, up to and including lynchings, and how that is the abuse dynamic everyone in the show and fandom latched onto to revile as the Disgusting Evil Predatory One while giving everything else a pass. how mlm have a long history of forced institutionalization and psychiatric torture and abuse, and the Predatory Gay Man is subjected to decades of--you guessed it!--forced institutionalization and psychiatric torture and abuse, which is framed as what he deserved and where he belonged. how he's supposed to be unattractive (and the majority of the people who do this shit lean hard on that), while people are way more likely to give Charming Attractive Aesthetically Pleasing abusers a pass.

this is just..... normal, to the fandom. it's treated as completely normal. and i think that's a whole lot more fucking harmful than finding emotional catharsis in exploring an abusive dynamic that would not fly in broad daylight irl in a million years.

[caffeinatedopossum]

I think it's interesting how it took me finding someone I'm fully comfortable around to notice what I'm not comfortable with. It makes sense when I think about it because no one else ever let me have boundaries so I thought I just didn't have them. But now I know I don't really like being touched, even when I'm close with someone. I don't like being tickled or being held in certain ways and I don't usually like to be naked or get dressed/undressed in front of anyone. And I finally feel like no one's demanding me to act like I'm comfortable with things I'm not anymore. It's really nice, I hope everyone gets to feel like this someday

[rice-fae]

Boycott hoyoverse, please.

I used to be a big genshin impact lore buff, i played, i read, i was on forums, i made fanart, and then i was deeply disrespected by the game itself (this post is about natlan)

I am brazilian and i follow a religion named candomblé. Long story short, its from yoruba people who were sent to brazil as slaves, then went through a big process of spreading out to not just black people, but light-skinned people of lower classes like my family. We believe in the creation by Olorum, the power of Axé, and the Orixás.

Natlan, as of now, has two characters named Iansan and Ororon. These names come from not just the yoruba predecessors of candomblé, but also the religion itself, the Orixá deities Iansã and Olorum.

My religion, my deities. My mother's deities. The statuettes in my house. Their names are recycled cheaply to be used trivially. Never have we of candomblé ever gotten mentioned by AAA games or films that give such attention to detail like Genshin does, and we are disrespected. Our Gods are used like rags for someone's profit to be thrown away, washed out. They do not convey our beauty, our grit, our wonder, they do not convey us but they profit from us.

People love to tell us that it is just a game, but think again: games are not entitled to disrespect us just because of their nature. We are entitled to complain, to scream, because this is cruelty. You brutalize our image, butcher our names, for what?

When I was younger, I used to look at games with religious imagery very curiously. It was always weird to see the faith of the people I know be used for aesthetic reasons or just because it looks cool. The same has now happened to me, but times worse. People will say anything to justify this mockery and throw excuses to keep playing the product of a corporation that won't ever understand what it means to be us.

Boycott, complain, scream, because I will do it too. I regret the time I invested in playing, in reading, in watching, in dedicating myself to something that would never do me justice. It is not expensive to change a character's name, not even talking about the model. I don't plan on re-entering the fandom while it still lies unaware of the gross source material's true colors. Candomblé is not mythology, it's faith. We are alive. We have existed for centuries and will continue to grow, despite the challenges we face.

[elizabethrobertajones]

kriles summer trust top is kinda problematic tho... lalafell r smol and should be wholesome.

Aw, come on.

I'm sorry but I have to disagree because within the fiction, lalafell are just as mean, gross and horny as anyone else. Gegeruju is a perv, and the whole Ul'dah Syndicate is full of evil little bastards. On the good side, lala are just as complex and grown up as anyone else - Tataru courts followers and dances in a skimpy outfit in the Forgotten Knight, Giott is a roaring drunk stereotypical fantasy dwarf (not to mention whatever the heck is going on with the Tomra and Komra dwarves in general tbh :P). And Lamitt's story was sweet but it did involve her having adult feelings for Ardbert.

Like, really, I can only think of 4 completely wholesome lala out of a cast of hundreds, and they happen to mostly be the ones we've interacted with a lot (Nanamo; Pipin who is a Heroic Knight archetype; Papalymo, who was a grumpy old scholar man; Krile). But that's more about them being main characters serving roles in the narrative rather than indicative of how lalas behave as a whole. In fact after going through ARR, meeting Pipin and finding One Good Ul'dahn Lala is an enormous relief (since the other one is apparently dead now).

And Krile is a main character now so she's allowed to step out of the shadow of being uwu cat hoodie girl who wasn't written with much depth outside of being serious and earnest and rather spooky; she's actually 22 years old according to the first wiki I found - regardless of if that's totally accurate she's definitely meant to be a peer of the other adult Scions and they all treat her like an adult. Her introduction cutscene has her ribbing Alphy as an older friend laughing at how a much younger one used to behave, so we're supposed to immediately understand on meeting her that she's post-teen since she knew 11 year old Alphy and was of course older than him since he was a freak entry into the Studium at that age. Probably a necessary writing moment because establishing lala's age with hilarious moustaches or deep voices or whatever is a part of how the game has to present them.

Out of the fiction, I know lalas are part of a much wider trope that people do find problematic as a whole (e.g. just because in universe Tataru has babes across the globe and that's normal to everyone involved, who are consenting adults in a world which wholly understands Tataru as a consenting adult, is it actually really creepy that it's happening at all because her body type is toddler-esque? Is it weird in general that lala emotes are SO baby in the same way miqo emotes are SO kitty?

ffxiv definitely goes waaay further into borderline creepy territory than many games with smaller fantasy races in it, when it comes to how lala look, so yeah I know it's a fraught area and can be discomforting to see the game present child-shaped people as having adult desires and a thing some people understandably set aside along with other elements as things they're not happy with co-existing in the game with things they really love.) We can absolutely talk about that on a meta level of how we relate to the game and feel about it, just like things we find racist or uncomfortable in other ways e.g. eng translation Hien's treatment of Yotsuyu being a really problematic point.

But, that's one thing, versus talking about us here in fandom and how we relate to it, and I think your ask is, well, really not very deeply considered on any level, but I think is talking about how we as fandom relate to lalas, based on an inaccurate reading of them in the game, meaning you're really not even analysing a thing about it and therefore your ask comes more in the terms of policing how we should FEEL about Krile's beach outfit, and dictating that we SHOULD find lalas smol and wholesome, and that therefore there's an inherent problem in anyone reacting positively to the outfit, rather than critiquing its place in the game in the first place. Having hit a cognitive dissonance in seeing swimsuit Krile existing you've come to me to complain it's problematic rather than taking any actual meaningful action. Ergo, this is a fandom problem to you, not a game problem. WE should find it problematic and say so, you are implying, shocked that so many people looked at a post about the beach outfits and no one commented as such.

Aside from lalafell being fictional and at no point other than the visuals are they treated as children (and emotes aside, playing through the MSQ as a lala wol you easily fall into seeing them as an adult because of course all the cutscenes share the same level of gravitas no matter what you're playing or what clown costume you have on any player), there ARE actually real humans who are built somewhere closer to lala than not, and would be drawn to playing any of the smaller races in a game (like, gnomes in WoW, halflings in D&D, etc) because that's just their chance at representation. And because FFXIV doesn't have anything other than precious moments doll-shaped people the look might be great in the sense that they have the proportions of a cherub statue and it is a lot harder to meet in the middle than a halfling (notoriously hairy middle aged bastards and much easier to read as adult, though that doesn't exclusively represent people who've had growth developmental differences), that IS still the only representative option some people have in the game and if they want to indulge it rather than play something else with proportions forced on them by many games, then what the hell is wrong with that?

And they WILL go to bat for lalas and get upset when people say that they have to be precious baby characters who act like children. I've seen that on tumblr: there's a whole lala community who keeps kinda low key and away from everyone else by their own admission BECAUSE as soon as they get too much attention they're deluged with hate for playing characters who have adult desires and dress fancy - or, you know, like any other random slutty elf WoL. The fact I wandered onto lala blogs at random and saw that complaint on the first pages should speak to how often they have to deal with it. And, again, within the fiction of the game their characters are completely 100% normal and doing what other lalas who are written by the game do as well. I KNOW those blogs are out there and they'd be scared of getting this exact ask, and it would greatly upset them and ruin their day and put them off having any interaction with the community, which fucking sucks. We're here to have fun!

That said I'm not a weirdo anti all up in others' business, it's also fine to just like lalas and stuff without some huge circumstantial justification like "they look like me" - or - "my IRL wife" or whatever - you can also just play a lala or ship with one and it's like, your business. If that's all you're doing and it's not a hypothetical child molester who also has a whole gallery of lala porn that the cops find when they impound the computer full of REAL CHILDREN stuff as well it's never going to be anyone else's business anyway, ever, and that's like, one hypothetical awful person for a whole fandom of normies who are just surprised by how much idk Pipin's deep voice rocked their world and changed their whole perspective on what a hot character was.

Like, granted, that one HYPOTHETICAL weirdo will make everything rancid because there are people waiting to jump on people who like lalas, but also it still won't actually change what other people are doing into being Evil just because someone who actually hurts children found lalas attractive too. That, again, was the hypothetical awful person's problem and not theirs. And in no way can we just casually imply ALL people who like lalas are just inherently going to be dangerous, like real children, or enacting a private psychodrama teetering on the edge of all that.

They could in fact be completely average and boring psychologically and also have a crush on Tataru. Or, I guess, normal amount of weird for a fandom, but basically average XD In a fictional world where these characters are treated as adults, even normal people will naturally end up drawn to them as adults because, well, that's the story that's we're all engaging in. It's not inherently a thought crime to do so, because, weirdly, thought crimes don't exist.

Also, of course, people will literally discourse that hobbits are child-coded and shouldn't be shipped or seen as sexy, despite the most famous halflings, who made the entire halfling race as a generic brand, all being middle aged, hairy, smoking, drinking, guys with normal adult desires and mindsets. I mean yeah Elijah Wood was 18 when they started filming LotR (over several years so he was Krile's age by the end :P) but also Frodo celebrated his 40th birthday before setting off on the Ring Quest in the book and he was the baby of the group aside from Pippin.

In any case, there's no fucking winning and so I can understand completely that if a fucking Hobbit from Lord of the Rings gets shit for being short, and people are getting called a perv for fancying Sam Gamgee, then why not just embrace it with a Lalafell because you're literally damned no matter what in the eyes of someone who won't meet a LOTR HOBBIT where he stands as an adult man.

There's some DEEP puritanical brainrot going on online and I don't want to be a part of it whatsoever, so it means accepting lala likers for the sake of protecting Merry and Pippin's right to be seen as hot, than like, I know which side of of the line I'm dragging my beach chair. It's not even a question. I'm defending people who think lalas are appealing.

ANYWAY none of this is my business, I don't even find lalas sexy, I just think Krile looks nice in her cute summer top and it's lovely that she's getting fashion advice from her besties, and there's a million reasons to be happy about that and for her as a character, and only miserable bastard reasons to go "aurgh aurgh it's problematic" and condemn the game and everyone who plays it just for enjoying something. Lalas are NOT smol and wholesome, they're short and people, and that's fine.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

��� Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

“Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm���even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[greenunoreversecard]

Kai,llyod, and Cole hc of them with a s/o that's kinda like a child of aphrodite from pjo? A bit more like piper though, they hate their gift and have to deal with cat callers alot?

I got cat called by way older men on the way home so this would be really comforting.

A/N:sorry it took so long to get this out for you. Ik my words can't offer much, but I'm sorry you get catcalled, it's not a fun feeling.

Sugar and spice-> Gn! Reader

individual headcanons of kai, cole and lloyd with a stunning S/O

Kai:

Kai, despite being extremely similar to his element in a multitude of ways, is an utter gentleman.

Hes always respectful of you, and makes sure to ask before he touches you in anyway, and is respectful with his eyes as well

With this said, as you guys grow close and start dating, he becomes uber protective of you.

He knows your very stunning.

And he knows others know that as well.

But alot of times, these people are creepy and go about saying: "hi, your outfit is cool" weirdly

And so he won't hesitate to punt a bitch into the sun

Most likely to throw a punch before a word leaves the creeps mouth.

And if your ever feeling gross and icky bc of the creeps?

Bros pulling out every stop.

Hes getting Zane to make a 10 course Michelin star meal, he's getting your comfort items, a hoodie (yours or his, doesn't matter) and he's becoming a 10/10 massager

Hes getting self care items, and a bath along with movies and cuddles with a side of shoulder to cry on

But if you get angry about the creeps??

He eggs you on. Agrees with you"YEAH BABE, FUCK THOSE ASSWIPES"

he will actively encourage any fist fights fights want to start with them

Hes your number 1 hype man, as well as comforter

Cole:

This man worships the ground you walk on. Just generally

Also drinks the respect tea (all of them do)

Hes always telling you how amazing you look, and even gives advice for anything you may need

Clothes? Food? Whatever hobby your working on?

He just has a eye for style of all categories

Hes generally also more down to earth, and realizes its much more than looks that makes a person

Which is why it takes him a bit longer to confess, as he wanted to get to know you better first (this man is demiromantic and demisexual)

Hes also fucking oblivious

So when people are more... sly about their intentions, like wording and such, he prolly won't notice

But the second he gets wind of what they are tryna pull

Hes super passive aggressive

And he slings a arm around your shoulder, or hides you behind him

Trys to talk it out first, and if they don't catch the hint they will catch his hands

Hes not... great with comfort tbh

His mom's dead and his dad's lowkey emotionally unavailable so he's not good at it

But he will rub your back when you cry, and buy takeout

He'll also prolly ask kai or Jay about how to comfort you better, bc both had either a sibling or parent.

He would ask Nia buts she's a younger sibling with a emotional brick wall of a brother so it's next to never she did some comforting.

Hes a little confused when it comes to comfort but Hes got spirit

Lloyd:

He has always been a little silly

So expect to bark at your aggressors

Idk why I just see him barking at your catcallers

Besides that

Hes always relied more on personality for if he likes someone, like cole

Not that kai doesn't care for personality he does, but looks plays a bigger factor for kai than they do cole and lloyd

Anyways

Off topic

Lloyd doesn't make a big deal how you look. Like doesn't comment on your outfits like cole.

Doesnt mean he doesn't think you don't look nice, bc he thinks you look lovely always

But moreso doesn't give a fuck

Wear a potato sack, or go naked, he doesn't give a fuck he just wants to get to the mall before it closes to he can check out the anime shops

He Def has a idrc additude, especially in dragon rising i feel, so I think if you want compliments you'd have to be outright about it, whereas the other two just kinda;"aww my partner is lovely🥰🥰"

And he's like;"babe, love you to bits and pieces but hurry the fucketh upeth I wanna get there before the fucking store closes"

And bc of that he's also the worst at comfort

Like he's always been told to suck it up so he kinda just is like... cool you done? And stands there awkwardly. He will get better with time, but please explain how to help better for future moments bc he was a Lil scared when you started crying.

Anyways back to the beginning about when mfs are being creepy

Barks at them

Fr barks

Bc it weird them out and he thinks it's funny

Or just tries to be as weird as possible

Like starts acting possessed

Crawls backwards on all fours like the lady from the ring or smth

If generally weirdness doesn't work he fights them

Though he tries to scare them off first

[gilverrwrites]

I could never get over it if the batfam walked on Bruce and I having sex. Even MORE, if we were married for a longtime, being parents together. I think everyone would be traumatized and it would create for a long time, awkward tension and moments, no one being able to quite look each other in the eyes. Bruce trying to act as if nothing happened, but still cringing in his head.

It would be SO bad!

Cass was the first to figure out what was going on and avert her eyes. She didn’t see much but she saw enough. For a very long time, every time she looked at you, you could tell she’s remembering what happened and trying to scrub the image from her brain.

Dick is simultaneously the most traumatised, and the most calm about it. Like this is the worst thing he’s ever laid eyes on and he’s seen some pretty messed up shit in his time but he’s gotta do damage control for the younger siblings, he’ll freak out about it later.

Jason is the loudest, he's immediately fake retching and threatening to gouge out his eyes. Days later, just when he thinks he’s over it, that the sight is no longer ingrained in his head, something reminds him and he’s straight back to wanting to barf.

Duke is apologising for barging in right until the door is closed and then he's reteching and looking for the nearest bathroom to wash is eyes out in. Theres like a full month where he cannot look you or Bruce in the eyes at all.

Steph is a goddamn menace. She would have been stood by Cass who likely would have covered her eyes or something to stop her from seeing much, and she's also one of the fastest to get over it. But watching Jason freak out, or Dick try to brush it off while dying inside is to much fun, so she frequently is the cause for reminding them about it.

Damian is the most normal about it, was it unpleasant? Yes. Very. But he knows what sex is, he knows it’s a normal thing that people do. At least it’s over and he doesn’t have to dwell on it anymore. Or he wouldn’t if Grayson would stop incessantly checking in on him which is far worse. At some point this event lead to Bruce trying to have The Talk with him, Damian was appalled.

Babs, like Dick is trying to diffuse the situation but winds up making it worse because she cannot resist making stupid jokes about it. Really she’s just trying to lighten the mood but it is not appreciated.

Tim’s mind is in like 3 places at once at any given time. He was probably at the front and didn’t even fully register something is off until Bruce is slamming the door in his face. When everyone else is freaking out he’s just kind of like ‘okay… moving on…’ cause for all of them to burst in on you, there was probably a bigger issue at hand that needed his brain power. He’s probably lying in bed 2 days later, having finally wrapped up everything in his head when oh. OH, OH SHIT NO GROSS I DID NOT SEE THAT.  

Like you said, Bruce would try to act normal about it for a long time. Until the tension is to much and/or its causing problems during theit nightly activities. He’ll bring everyone in for a mandatory team meeting, try to clear the air. IT WILL NOT GO WELL, and he will immediately resort back to pretending like neither happened.

[sant-riley]

Domestic Simon Riley? 👀 -🪴

[With you] [Simon 'Ghost' Riley domestic headcanons]

(Romantic Ghost x Reader)

Summary: Simon is your disconcerning boyfriend, to most people it seems as if he'd be incapable of gentle touches and affection, you know better though.

More info: You're apart of 141, no one knows you two are dating, you are younger than him and are shorter than him in this.

Warnings: usage of the word Girl once but it is more geared towards fem! (This is so fucking self indulgent im sorry) possibly ooc for Ghost (idc tbh) , do these even count as domestic? Idk ive never dated someone, nothing else that I know of but do let me know if there is anything that needs to be tagged!

Ghost is so painfully subtle in public with the way he treats you, he'll never outwardly do anything romantic but his actions and how he looks at you while he does it makes people pause.

In your own quarters or homes though, its different.

He's extremely attentive to you, your wants, your needs, your dislikes, he knows it all, he classifies it as important as missions. Simon didn't have a good father growing up, he didn't get to see what a good husband was supposed to be like, he's learning from the bottom up and he takes it seriously.

You'll never have to ask him to make breakfast, he's always up before you and has it cooked on the table with your drink.

Knows exactly when it's the time you wake up, and if he's able he'll go wake you up personally, brushing your hair out of your face and gently running his fingers through to detangle it from your sleeping.

Despite how cute you are sleeping in just his large hoodie, he won't let you sleep in, y'all got stuff to do.

He'll pick you up and bring you down to the table, pressing a kiss to your temple, if that doesn't wake you up (you usually will look up for a real kiss), he isn't afraid to grab your face in one hand and just, smoosh your face, he knows you hate it but it's gonna wake you up bc you're trying to slap his hand away.

He sits across from you, but reaches out one arm across the table with his palm facing up so you can grab it whenever, he likes it when you play with his hands.

Don't get me started on Simon and washing dishes, he always takes over washing duty and let's you dry ‘em. But every other time, he's gonna let his hands stay wet and will tell you to “think fast” and flick water over you (if you truly hate it, he'll stop though)

you know that saying of peeling oranges? He's the biggest proof that there is somewhere out there that will do it for you without question. Doesn't matter what it is, if you don't prefer driving, he has no complaints about driving you everywhere, if you don't like washing your hair? Just tell him what products and what order you use them in, just sit there and relax.

If you wear makeup and you're too tired to take it off yourself, he'll do it for you and it makes me emotional.

In your shared bathroom, he sets you on top the counter and uses one hand to gently grab your chin, taking the remover and firmly rubbing off your eyeshadow/eyeliner/blush/etc, afterwards he'll murmer a “that's my girl.” (He loves you with or without makeup, but he loves you for you, doesn't matter which you choose to do that day or any day)

He covers the corners of the meeting tables when you bend down to grab at the pen you dropped, it's just second nature for him to protect you from hurting yourself. He's yanked you from the street, picked you up just with one arm to make sure you don't walk into something gross on the street, gotten in front of strangers who try and get in your face for something. His body completely covers your own, and he always has weapons on his person, he isn't afraid to resort to maiming someone for you, you're his number one priority.

Simon loves having you sleep on top of him, he finds the weight a good reminder that you're there, you're not going anywhere if you do, he'll notice right away. If you get up to go to the kitchen, he'll sleepily follow you and just stare at you for an uncomfortable amount of time til you realize he's there. He'll make fun of you too “You should know ‘m right here, what kind of soldier isn't aware-” “Simon, I'm literally in just a bra and boxers right now.”

He demands your attention, this is one he'll do on bass in front of others bc technically he can get a with it. You're next to a recruit he doesn't like? Suddenly there's papers on a recent mission he needs your signature on, or he needs you for special 141 training reasons (he wants you to come with him to the dining hall, he's hungry and he doesn't want to go alone)

Dude stands right up against your back, in every scenario. His chest is probably an inch away from your back. He's playfully called your shadow by Price and the rest of the guys.

He grabs your hips alot, usually just to rest his hands there, occasionally rubbing small circles into the flesh, humming.

Simon will try and subtly leave as well if you leave the room, he gives it 10 minutes before he makes his way out to find wherever you wandered off too 

Price finds it fucking hilarious, he'll look down at his watch and mentally countdown to when Simon makes his escape. Simon can fool most people but not John, the way Ghost will tap his foot and roll his shoulders are tell tale signs that he's had enough of being there.

He'll dance if you want him to, though he simply sways with you in his arms, if you're of a specific culture, he'll try his best to learn it but no promises, while he is fast learner and perfects everything he does, he's a big man, he's not that graceful.

Without thinking if he sees you're cold, he's stripping off his jacket to give it to you, he doesn't ask, he just moves behind you to drape it over your shoulders.

He'll take off his mask with you, and let you trace the scars that litter his face, let you trace his features too, he's fallen asleep to you doing it and he doesn't know how much you cried silently when he did.

Simon practices new jokes on you, to get your opinion of them until he can tell the others, the louder you groan the better the joke is in his eyes.

Soap asks why you don't even react anymore and you just sigh. You are tired.

When he's especially annoyed and done with the day, he just shoves his head into your shoulder, wrapping his arms around you in a death grip while he takes deep breaths, in the least weird possible, your scent and body so close to him helps him destress.

One thing he makes a huge point to do is to clean your guns for you, yes you should do it yourself but ever since y'all have gotten together, he's taken it upon himself.

He's scared, more scared than anything that something will go wrong when you're both not on the same mission, this is just a way he can ensure your gun will fire correctly and efficiently, that you can defend yourself when he isn't there.

Speaking of weapons, he gives you one of his personal knives for you to keep, he'll ask for it back only to sharpen it, everything has to stay in its best shape.

Likes when you drape yourself over him when he's sitting, alas he is just a man so he likes to feel your chest against his back.

Pulls you into his lap if you walk by, he'll let you get up if you truly want to but he'll position you to sit sideways and will rub your legs as he watches whatever is on the TV.

For anyone who has arthritis, Ghost will take the time to rub your ointments into your hands, he knows what weather makes then worse and keeps his own tube of it onhand so he's prepared.

He's always buying you things, he knows that it's not necessary but for him, it sees it as ‘if for some reason I fail at something else, at least I can provide this’ someone hug him he's fighting for his life.

Stocks up on every single essential you can ever need, your comfort food and snacks? Always on base and always at your flat, if you two are walking around the shoppes and he sees you eyeball anything, bet your ass he's going online to order it for you immediately, and when it shows up, he just shrugs. He doesn't see it as a big deal, it's just money. Which is very cute but also a ps5 is NOT cheap sir, you can't just-

[beardedmrbean]

"The Young Turks" co-host Ana Kasparian explained what drove her to ditch the Democratic Party while on Jillian Michaels' "Keeping It Real" podcast on Monday.

The progressive media host described feeling "politically homeless" over the past few years, as she started seeing an intolerance to debate and the free exchange of ideas as well as an embrace of soft-on-crime policies by the left that she believed were detrimental to society.

She ripped efforts to "demonize and even dehumanize the other side" while admitting she used to be a person who believed you could not be friends with conservatives or someone who supported former President Trump. Both women said they identified with disaffected Democrats who now feel unwelcome in their former party.

Kasparian said a turning point for her was when she was scolded by liberals after confessing she was fearful to leave her house after being sexually assaulted by a homeless man while walking her dog in Los Angeles in 2022. "Before I knew it, I started getting these messages, and it's really, really harsh stuff, about how, ‘You are painting a picture of the homeless community. How could you be like this? These are your unhoused neighbors and they need help,'" she said of the negative messages she received. "A few people  accused me of being racist, even though I had never disclosed the race of the individuals who did this to me. And in fact, they were White," Kasparian continued. 

"That woke me up," Kasparian said. "Some of the people that I've associated myself with because I thought they were the good people….They definitely have stereotypes in their head and are totally blind to the fact that they have those stereotypes and go around accusing others of being bad actors when they themselves need to do the work."

Kasparian said she also disagreed with the "defeatist mentality" shown towards minorities.

"At some point last year, the other thing that really hit me was the difference between my upbringing and what the Democratic Party espouses," Kasparian said.

She described being raised by "very tough" parents who taught her to work hard to be self-sufficient and create her own opportunities. While she acknowledged there are obstacles today that some younger people are facing that older generations may not have had to face, she still sees America as a land of opportunity, which she said goes against messaging from the Democratic Party.

"However, we all get to wake up in the morning and make choices for ourselves. And when I hear the Democratic Party constantly disempower people of color, because that's what they're doing," she said.

"They keep using this messaging that infantilizes them and makes them seem as though, you know, if it weren't for us White saviors, messing around with these laws and policies, they would never be able to survive. And I find that so gross," she continued. Kasparian gave examples of how a Los Angeles school district scrapped its honor student program because there wasn't enough Hispanic students enrolled in the program.  "That p---d me off," Kasparian said. "It's doing away with an opportunity rather than seeing what the flaws are in our education system and then rising to the occasion to help these students, where we do see the disparity, to get to where we want them to be. That's the right way to approach it. But there's just this weird defeatist mentality. And I'm honestly also very sick of White people going around being offended on behalf of marginalized people."

"They're just virtue signaling. It's disgusting," Michaels agreed.

"We should celebrate people who want to better themselves and better their lives," Kasparian said later in a discussion about the "fat-acceptance" movement on the far-left.

"Instead, there's this effort to basically tell people, ‘you're fine the way you are, you don't need to change a thing,' even if that thing is slowly killing you. It doesn't make any sense," she continued.

The pair also said they've seen their home state of California become "crazy" over time from when they were growing up.

Michaels, who left California in 2021, has previously shared how the deep blue state's soft-on crime policies drove her and her family to leave and move to Miami.

"Nothing was crazy like this right?" Michaels told Kasparian. "Homelessness, crime, advocating for medicalization of children, advocating for late-term abortion?"

Gov. Gavin Newsom is leading the "madness" in the state, Michaels said. "The concern is that it goes from California to a federal problem."

"Unfortunately, some of the failed policies we've started here have been exported to other states," Kasparian agreed.

Fox News Digital reached out to Newsom's office for comment, but did not immediately hear back.  _____________________________

Gotta be real far gone for someone like Kasparian, to ditch you.

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 1 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, swearing, sexual harassment/men being gross, alcohol use, smoking, age gap

Wordcount: 4k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 1 | in the same room, at the same time

This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what you would tell yourself, later. But, life is funny that way - nothing ever really goes the way you’d expect it. And, when you had taken the last-minute shift at Enoteca Bruni, the fine-dining restaurant where you worked as a cocktail waitress, you could have never predicted where the night would take you.

It had started with a large reservation that had come in around 8pm, four businessmen in suits and watches that you imagined cost more than your entire month’s rent. You were used to that type - considering the prices on the wine list, nearly everyone you served here lived at least three tax brackets above you. It wasn’t a job meant for everyone - a lot of these types of customers were dismissive, rude, and expected those who serve them to disappear in the background, not to interrupt whatever they were doing, which was obviously oh-so-important. But, the tips were phenomenal, and the late night hours worked perfectly with your daytime shifts at the cafe in the city’s center.

Still, the most intriguing thing about them was that they weren’t Italian, like you had gotten used to - nor were they speaking Spanish, French, German, or any of the other languages you had learned to recognize over the last few years. No, they were American. It wasn’t often that you heard your native tongue and accent nowadays - no, it was actually jarring. But, you welcomed it. The oldest man at the table, a gray-haired, thin man with a sharp face and tailored three-piece suit, smiled when you greeted them with a hello.

“How wonderful,” he had exclaimed. “Someone from our side of the world.”

“Finally,” a younger man with a smattering of freckles on the other side of the table had said, exasperated. “We’ve got someone who actually speaks English around here.”

“Well,” you said, “To be fair, you are in Rome. I suppose you could say we are the odd-ones-out.”

He rolled his eyes, and shrugged. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m just trying to say it’s nice to actually understand who I’m talking to for once, you know? Not that I’m looking for her to talk back.”

Unfortunately, that didn’t even crack the top ten worst things a customer had said to you in your time working here. So instead, you just plastered on a cheerful smile.

“Of course. In that case, what drinks can I get started for you gentlemen?”

As the hours wore on though, it was becoming harder and harder to feign kindness. With each wave of dismissal, or snap of their fingers, you wanted to take the drinks you were serving and throw them in their faces. The worst of the bunch were probably the first older man you had spoken to, who had such a vile demeanor about him that you couldn’t quite put your finger on it; and perhaps worse than him were two of the younger men, the dark-haired one with freckles, and a sandy-haired guy with what you could only describe as a mullet.

1982 called, it wants its hairstyle back, you thought to yourself. 

It was those two who you could see undressing you with their eyes, who called you over for nonsense requests, asking you to bend over the table to get things that you knew they were perfectly capable of reaching themselves. And, you weren’t deaf; you heard the comments they made as you walked away to fetch more wine and scotch.

Look at that ass go, one of them said. I’d definitely hit it.

As if you could pull that, the other said. Besides, you’ve already got two bitches on the side Billy; leave some for the rest of us.

Don’t look at me, the sandy-haired man who was apparently named Billy retorted. If anyone around here needs to get laid, it’s Harrington.

With your back turned, you rolled your eyes, and wondered if they’d notice if you spit in their drink - that was, until no-first-name Harrington replied.

Guys, lay off - just let the girl do her job, yeah? 

You took a deep breath, and recomposed yourself - it was the bare minimum, but it was something - someone who saw you as a person, maybe.

You carried the tray over with a wide smile plastered on your face, handing out drinks as you surveyed the table. You glanced at Harrington, the quietest one in the group - you had hardly heard a word from him all night, until right now. He was handsome, on the younger side of the group, but you’d estimate still about a decade your senior; he had a thick, slightly wild head of chestnut hair, and more of a boyish look about him. And with the exception of his perfectly-tailored suit and ostentatious Rolex, he didn’t look to have much else in common with his colleagues at first glance. While they sat at ease, laughing and conversing over their drinks, he sat up straight, stoically swirling his wine.

You pulled the post-dinner cigars they had asked you to bring out of the box, slicing the end with the guillotine cutter and handing the first one to the oldest man, striking a match and lighting it for him until he drew smoke. It felt humiliating sometimes, to light the Suits’ cigars for them as if they couldn’t do it themselves, but that came with the territory in a place like this, you had learned. 

You reached Harrington last, only for him to shake his head.

“Oh, none for me - thank you though.”

Thank you - he was probably the first one from the table to say that all evening. 

“Can I get you gentleman anything else?” you asked stiffly.

“That’ll be all, for now,” the gray-haired man said, waving you off. 

You nodded, and at the bar, decided it was high time for your smoke break. You glanced at your watch - your shift was over in less than an hour, and your high heels were killing you. You signaled to the manager behind the bar that you were taking fifteen, and shouldered your way out the door.

*****

The first few minutes outside were peaceful, and relatively quiet - at least, as quiet as Rome could be at this hour. There was still the distant sound of traffic, the bustle of people on the sidewalk, many drunkenly stumbling and laughing, in the midst of making merry on a Friday night. You took a drag from your cigarette and inhaled deeply - even just a few moments off of your feet, and sitting out here on this bench in the fresh air, was starting to take the edge off. Still, you couldn’t shake that table of men - your manager had warned you that it was a very high-profile client, explaining that the dinner was likely a pretense for some multi-million dollar deal to be discussed. Still, you found yourself muttering under your breath, practicing the retorts and profanities you had wanted to throw at them. The shield you had built for dealing with customers was only so strong, and if your job wasn’t on the line, you probably would have told them to fuck off hours ago.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you don’t hear someone approaching, not until they’re right next to you, clearing their throat.

“Oh! Jesus, hi,” you say, clutching your chest with your hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Harrington was standing above you, hands in his pockets and his tie loosened.

“It’s fine - I promise, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

His smile was friendly, and a bit apologetic. He looked different in the dim light, a bit younger, and not at all like someone who spends his days in an office doing… whatever those men inside did.

“You mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to you on the bench. You just shook your head, a bit wary of him still.

He smiled, and started fishing around in his pockets until he pulled out a small baggie of tobacco and a pack of rolling papers. You raised your eyebrows, and smirked.

“You roll your own cigarettes?” you asked.

He nodded, not quite looking at you, focused intently on the task and hand.

“Yep. It’s so much better than that crap you smoke, trust me.”

You scoffed, despite the fact that this man was technically your customer, and your shift wasn’t quite over yet.

“Yeah, well, I’m doing just fine with what I’ve got. Thanks though…” you trailed off, looking at him expectantly. He caught on and turned to face you, grinning.

“Steve. Steve Harrington.”

He extended a hand towards you. You hesitated for a moment, caught off-guard by the simplicity of the gesture from someone like him, but you took it, telling him your own name. His much bigger hand was warm and calloused, shaking yours firmly before pulling away.

You stared at him intently, desperately trying to figure him out as you placed your cigarette between your lips and inhaled. It was hard to figure out what exactly his deal was - but, he was talking to you like you were an actual person, so that was at least a step above most of the people you’d waited on here.

When he finished rolling, he stuck the cigarette between his lips, then sighed. 

“Shit - d’you have a light?”

You nodded, reaching into your handbag and pulling out your small blue lighter. He leaned in close, close enough that you could faintly smell his cologne, feel the heat radiating off of him in the cool May evening. It took a moment for the flame to catch, then he was leaning back and he took a drag, letting his eyes flutter shut.

You looked away quickly, staring at the street ahead. Your black cocktail dress didn’t offer much coverage, causing you to shiver slightly as a breeze picked up. It was Steve who broke the silence, after a few moments.

“I want to apologize, by the way - my, uh, colleagues… they’re assholes.”

You nearly choked at his words, whipping around to face him.

“I’m sorry… what?”

“I - I don’t know how much you heard in there, but -”

“I heard enough,” you said quickly.

His face fell, then hardened. He looked… angry? Or, perhaps disappointed.

“I really am sorry. I know I probably should have said something, but…Brenner’s my boss. And, there’s a lot of people who would kill to work for him. So, you have to understand… I mean, Tommy and Billy, they’re real jerks. I can’t stand them, most of the time. So, just know that if you want to punch them in the face, I’d understand.”

You laughed at that, shaking your head. 

“Well, just between you and me, I do want to punch them. But… I would really like to keep my job, and actually get a good tip at the end of the night. So, if I can make it through the next -” you glanced at your watch, “- half an hour or so, I’ll be alright. I’m kind of used to it anyway, working here.”

You felt his eyes on you, but didn’t turn to meet his gaze. Then, he said more softly, “I’m sorry to hear that. Really.”

You shrugged. 

“It’s fine. But, thank you - most people don’t take the time to say that, I guess.”

A moment of semi-awkward silence fell between you and him, before you added, “But, it’s good to know that I apparently have a nice ass.”

He laughed at that, choking on the smoke he was inhaling.

“Oh God - Billy and Tommy really are the worst. Did you hear that they actually were trying to make a bet about you in there?”

You raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued.

“What kind of bet?”

He suddenly broke eye contact, staring straight ahead as he shook his head vigorously.

“You know what - nevermind, you’d be disgusted -”

“Well now you have to tell me,” you conceded, inching closer. “C’mon, it can’t be that bad -”

“They said if I manage to get you to go home with me tonight, they’d agree on this huge deal with HNL that they’ve been trying to close with our European counterpart for months - they said it because they knew it wouldn’t happen, of course, I don’t really -”

“What would you get?” you asked bluntly.

“Huh?”

“If they thought you won the bet, like, would that be good for your job?”

He scoffs, nodding fervently.

“Um, yes - my yearly bonus would probably quadruple -”

“Then let’s do it,” you said.

His mouth fell open, and he was staring at you like you had three heads.

“Do what, exactly?”

He suddenly looked flushed, frozen in place as he stared at you. You felt a devilish grin spread on your face as you looked back at him, stubbing out the cigarette with the toe of your shoe.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Harrington.”

*****

You had made sure he arrived back at the table only moments before you. The group of cajoling men were louder now, Tommy slurring his words and Billy in a heated debate with Brenner. Steve flashed a smile at the group, then started sipping his drink as if he had never left.

“What I’m saying is, if we offer them 14 percent -”

“Well, at that rate, we may as well sell them the whole goddamn company -”

“We’re going to have to budge at least a little if we want to make headway, otherwise Upside Tech might outbid us -”

“Harrington!” Tommy cried over the other two men. “Where th’hell ‘ave you been? You left me stranded with these two, they’re actually trying to work right now -”

Then, he spotted you, suddenly flashing a grin that was too wide for your liking.

“Mademoiselle - might I say, I think you’ve only gotten hotter since I last saw you -”

“That was only about twenty minutes ago,” Steve said firmly, cutting Tommy off. “Also, we’re in Italy, not France.”

Tommy waved him off, leaning closer across the table, towards where you stood. 

“May I ask, how’re you getting home tonight, little lady?”

You just smiled.

“I’m actually so happy you brought that up - while I appreciate your concern and all, I’ve got that covered.”

You then turned to Steve, who froze in place.

“Ready to go, Steve?” you asked innocently.

All conversation stopped, then, the other men around the table stopped to gape at him. A smug smirk appeared on Steve’s face, and he stood up slowly, smoothing out his suit.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

Despite yourself, your heart fluttered at the pet name, as ridiculous as it felt. 

“What?” Billy said, his jaw nearly on the floor.

But before they could ask any more questions, Steve was holding out his bent arm, which you graciously hooked yourself through. You pressed yourself into his side, flashing another grin back at the group.

“I’ve left your bill on the table - thank you gentlemen for a wonderful evening, and we hope to see you soon!”

Then Steve surveyed the table, adding, “I suspect you’ll be in touch about negotiation meetings shortly? Since that was the deal and all. I’ll see you at the office on Monday.”

Then, you and Steve turned a corner and headed out the door, to where a car was already waiting for you.

Steve gestured for you to go in ahead of him, opening the backseat door. You slid across, greeting the driver quickly and Steve followed, shutting the door behind you. The second it was closed, you both looked at each other, and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Oh my God - did you see their faces?”

“I’m going to live on that for years,” he added, fighting to breathe. You threw your head back, practically cackling at the memory of their dumbfounded expressions.

“That was amazing,” Steve said, regaining his composure. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Don’t mention it - I think I got off of it more than you.”

“I doubt that.”

You met his gaze, and your breath stopped for a moment. He really was handsome, his honey-brown eyes staring into yours with such sincerity that it was actually overwhelming. You looked away quickly, staring straight ahead.

“Well, if anything, it made my shift more interesting, so thanks,” you said, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“Yeah, and you just made me my yearly bonus, so thank you.”

After a moment, he cleared his throat. 

“So, uh, where do you live? So I can get you home.”

“Oh! Right,” you said. “Um, do you have any ID or anything?”

Steve furrowed his brow, confused.

“Why are you asking?”

“Look, don’t take this personally - I’ve watched way too much Criminal Minds in my life. And, while I’m sure you’re nice and all, I’m not exactly gonna tell a strange man I’ve never met where I live without some precautions. So, I’m going to take a picture of your ID and send it to my roommate, so she knows who to turn in if I end up on the news, yeah?”

Steve just smirked, and pulled out his wallet.

“So, you think I’m strange?”

You shrugged, fighting a smile.

“Obviously, yes.”

Steve chuckled softly, fishing his license out of his wallet.

“Fair enough - as long as you’re not trying to steal my identity or anything.”

“Oh, definitely,” you said sarcastically. “I was actually going to buy a mansion in your name, if that’s alright.”

He laughed, handing you the card as you took a photo. The address was in Indiana - interesting. He was also 30, judging from his birthday - nearly ten years older than you. Also interesting. You handed it back, shooting a quick text to Robin:

I’ll explain later, but in case I get murdered!

You attached the photo and pressed send. 

Satisfied, you leaned forward, telling your address to the driver, who nodded and pulled onto the busy city street.

You leaned back in your seat, staring out the window. You passed dimly-lit alleyways and bustling restaurants, groups smoking on the sidewalk and couples kissing on benches as the evening started winding down. The silence in the car is comfortable enough, considering that you met the man beside you a few hours ago. It’s him who breaks the lull in conversation, once again.

“So, why did you do it?” he asked quietly.

“Hm?”

“The bet? Well, kind of - at least, why did you make it look like I - like we -”

You shrugged, shifting to face him.

“Honestly?”

He nodded, gaze fixed on you.

“Well - a few reasons, I guess. I knew it would get those jerks off of my back. And, I knew it would help you, with your bonus and all.”

“And why did you want to help me, though? You know nothing about me.”

“Not true,” you said firmly. “I know one thing.”

“And what’s that?”

“You’re kind.”

It was simple, but true - for the type of clientele you usually served, he was a rare breed. Maybe it wasn’t much, but it was something.

“I mean, you were nice to me, and actually treated me like a person. I can’t say that for a lot of people, not in that place.”

“Oh,” he said softly. 

A beat. Two. Then, he added, “Oh no - I didn’t even ask, did you have a car, back at the restaurant? Because we can go back and get it -”

“No, don’t worry about it - I don’t have one. I usually take the bus.”

“Oh - alright.”

You tried to stop yourself from rolling your eyes - Steve probably wouldn’t be caught dead on a bus. Or any public transport, for that matter. But, you kept it within yourself, and turned out towards the window again - the sights were getting more familiar, the buildings a little more run-down - closer to home.

You noticed your phone light up in your lap, and glanced down - a response from Robin.

Um… congrats???? Getting laid???? You’d better tell me EVERYTHING!!!!

You laughed under your breath, and saw Steve move to look at you out of the corner of your eye, curious. Before you could respond to her message, the car came to a halt right outside of your apartment building. You sighed, and turned to face the man beside you.

“Well, this is me. Thank you. For the ride home, I mean - you didn’t really have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” Steve said, waving a hand. “Had to make sure you got home safely and all, it was the least I could do.”

You both looked at each other for a moment, faces soft. You shot him another appreciative smile, and popped open the car door.

“Goodnight, Steve Harrington. Until we meet again!”

You knew the chances of seeing him ever again were slim at best, but it felt like the right thing to say, given the hilarity of the situation. After slamming the door shut, you rooted through your bag for your keys, taking the steps up to your door two at a time. Before heading inside, you turned and waved to the car one more time - Steve wasn’t visible through the tinted windows, but you liked to imagine that he was waving back, maybe even smiling fondly. 

******

Two days later, an envelope was pushed through the mail slot in your door. It was Robin who brought it in, plopping it down on the kitchen table as you sipped your coffee.

“What’s that?” you asked.

She shrugged, carding through the other envelopes and flyers.

“Don’t know. But, it’s made out to you. The envelope looks fancy though - I mean, who the Hell puts a wax seal on letters anymore?”

You felt your heart skip a beat, and snatched it up, turning it over in your hands - it was thick, the nice kind of stationary that you had to go out of your way to buy. There was a return address, but it seemed like it was for an office building of some kind, with no name associated. And, right on the center, a red wax seal with an H. You felt your face grow hot, your stomach doing somersaults as you practically tore the thing open.

Inside was a simple piece of paper with a note scrawled on it. After writing out your name, it read:

Thank you again, for the other night. You have no idea how much that helped me out. Plus, it was probably the best time I’ve had at a work event… well, ever. But, since you provided such great service… you really should be tipped appropriately. I also made sure to leave a glowing review with your manager the next day. Buy yourself something nice.

S.H.

You glanced back in the envelope, and gasped - loudly enough that Robin stopped what she was doing, and joined you in her awe.

“Is that -”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “It’s a shit ton of money.”

He had sent a stack of €100 notes - you hadn’t counted yet, but it had to be over €1,000, at least. 

“Dude, that’s like, at least two months’ rent right there, right?” Robin asks, flabbergasted.

“I - yeah.”

“Okay, be honest - are you a drug dealer? Is that, like, a side gig you’ve got going?”

You shook your head incredulously, gripping the money - the most cash you had ever held at one time in your life.

“No,” you admitted. “That would be a lot easier to explain.” Steve Harrington, you thought to yourself, what’s your deal?

Notes: a brand new fic! A ton of credit goes to my friend Em, who indulges my fantasies and headcanons with plenty of ideas of her own. Also, I've never been to Rome, so bear with me here. Also, please always read content warnings before reading each part!

Reply if you'd like to be added to the taglist

[ch3rryb0mb3rr]

Tldr; please put warnings on smut and have it below the cut and stop sexualizing minors in media. Especially if they just came out of middle school thats weird. Write what you want but tag and put warnings when needed.

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I get so pissed when im going to read something about my favorite character, and it's smut WITH ZERO WARNING.

No 18+, no NSFW, no MDNI and it isnt even in the fucking tags. I dont wanna read that shit. Put the damned warnings there for the love of all that is green on this earth it takes two seconds. maybe a bit more, but if you could pump out 3.4k words of pure porn, I think you can handle a couple of tags and warnings

I am a minor, and i use those warnings, so I dont read straight-up porn!! I also dont need to read about incest accidentally because there was NO warning, and it was NOT in the tags!!

(And for those of you who do put warnings, i thank you and wish the best in life!)

(I am also well aware that a lot of people dont listen to dnis like that, but it's helpful for the people trying to avoid reading stuff like that)

Also, while im on the subject, let's not sexualize minors in media. Yeah their hot, i can see that. But i dont want to see the start of an NSFW alphabet for a 15/16 year old. Aged up my ass. Just put the beginning below the cut?? And not after the first four letters??

I do NOT need to know a fav characters preferred body part is the tits thank you very much. I definitely do not need to accidentally read that they wanna suck on it like a damned bottle.

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'This character as your friend is soo perverted he wants to steal ur panties hehehe' NO HE DOESNT. HE'S A TEENAGER AND LIKES CATS. TF?? theres adults in the majority of the show that are reasonably attractive. Write that shit about them.

'Oh, they have this list of kinks,' and its shit only someone who has read hardcore smut would have. They are 16 and most probably haven't had sex because the creator cant give them a fucking break from trauma.

'He would be soooo toxic and blahblahblah [insert romanticised assault and abuse and trauma]' NO. that boy is my age and is a nerd. Motherfucker wants to study at princeton and has absolutely no flirting ability. You're only saying that because he's black, most of that shit reeks of racism.

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These characters are kids, CHILDREN, and you as an adult (if you are one) should not be writing smut about them, aged up or not. You should not be thirsting over a sophmore when theres PLENTY of good looking adults that you can be.

Theres a difference in growing up liking a character and having a crush on them and growing out of it when you're an adult. And being an adult thirsting over a teenage boy. It's not cute. it's not 'oh, it's fine because he/she's not real'.

Its really fucking gross actually.

--

At the end of the day just tag your stuff correctly. That way its easier for everyone else to find EXACTLY what they wanna read. Because at this point im just gonna start reporting fics with no warnings at the beginning.

Someome younger than me with no parents looking through their devices could stumble on that, and not know what it means, read it, and be scarred for life.

I was reading that stuff way way way too earlier and its fucked up my mental state a bit so if we collectively start putting in the effort to help prevent this from happening to another 11 year old or younger than we should do so.

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Start gatekeeping fandoms like creepypasta from young kids, start tagging shit correctly

Another child does not need to end up somewhat hypersexul with very violent intrusive thoughts by the time they hit high school because their parents wouldn't look out for them, and the fandom did NOTHING to try to prevent it.

Its not your job to parent the kid, and to look over their should. Thats not what im saying.

It IS your job to, again, tag shit correctly, put warnings for gore, bluring violent images, saying outright that a certain game/book/story/etc your recommending is NOT for kids due to its violent nature/sexual content/etc. Reporting accounts of children under the age limit for social media (i.e., a 10 year old with discord or instagram) (it is breaking the T.O.S)

Act like that one lgbtq+ chat room website I was on for a couple weeks where all the adults kinda looked out for me a bit. And supported me figuring out who I was and collectively riped a guy to shreds after I blasted him at a failed attempt to groom me. (And told me I had done exactly the right thing in this situation. Also, hi, if you know who I am from there!!!) (Story time if ya'll want I look back and think its the funniest thing ever how I dealt with him 💀)

[rizatouchesthewalls]

everyone who writes and supports miles smut can block me, that includes 42 btw.

PLEASE SHARE THIS TO ANYONE WHO SUPPORTS AGED UP MINORS (SPECIFICALLY MILES MORALES)

TW: BELOW THE CUT IS DISCUSSION OF P//DO, UNDERAGE CONTENT. (I don’t go too far into detail but I know some people have been affected by it).

elaboration on why aging up (for sexual purposes) is bad

miles is canonically 15 and dont even pull that “he’s aged up” shit with me cause you know damn well on aged up fanfics they use pictures of CANON MILES. so its pretty obvious u have the teen in your mind. and you know what the ones that are around his age are annoying too but it doesnt put nearly of a bad taste in my mouth as the GROWN ASS ADULTS who make that shit.

and btw dont go and say “oh, it’s hormones and plus miles has hormones” and to that i have to say:

1. if you are a child who likes miles like that, fine, deal with that shit in private tho. you posting s*xual content of a minor is catering to creepy adults online

2. if you’re an adult saying that shit then i can say nothing less that you have the mindset of a groomer. You’re not very far from the mfs who say that “teenage girls are at their ripe age at 16.” you as an adult SHOULD NOT be using teenagers having hormones to your advantage and excuse. That’s disgusting.

“they’re just a fictional character” 😟 can you get a grip? go outside. Miles is a fictional character who is BUILT and DESIGNED to look like a teenager. And astv aint that unrealistic that you can say he’s ambiguous. He’s not. And even if he was he does activities that I do as a teen—I go to high school, I’m nervous about my future—miles is literally a relatable teen, as he was designed to be.

“Then stop looking for the smut posts.” I DONT NEED TO! It infiltrates my ASTV tag and at times the Hobie Brown tags too. You act like your tags aren’t public. If someone wanted to read a Miles fic that was normal fluff they would have to scroll through some smut too!

anyway thats all and dont even both coming up in my comments and reposts throwing a hissy fit you niggas r weird asf and can block me. maybe then id see less weird shit on my tag page. do us all a favor and log off.

+ Update: His ages from any other media isn’t a valid excuse. If you were clearly writing for canon adult miles you wouldn’t have astv miles as the icons and astv as the tag.

+ Update: Miles is CANONICALLY 15 in the first movie, and somewhere in the last movie he was YOUNGER. As mentioned above, mentioning other media as an excuse is bs when in the movies your writing for (itsv, atsv) he’s clearly a minor.

+ The thing that pisses me off the most is how ya’ll act like the people who are uncomfortable are weird. Are you not writing s*xual content about a 15 year old on a daily basis? please.

+ Fiction DOES affect reality. Why do you think people have nightmares after horror? Why does a sad film make people cry? Why does a deep movie change perspective?

+ In the scene where Miles argues with his parents, he says something along the lines of “I’m 15!!!” So if you think he’s not underage, you either didn’t pay attention or don’t have google. Plus what 18 year old discusses college that late? (without any other discussions prior?)

+ if you like little boys stop tryna hide that you like little boys it makes you even more manipulative and gross. no but in all seriousness telling minors that behavior is okay has gotta be SOME form of grooming on a more subtle scale. sorry if that’s too bold for ya’ll but as someone who’s been tricked into thinking content like this was okay when I was younger, I can confirm that this isn’t okay.

+ If to prove character that’s canonically a minor isn’t one you have to pull up seven different source materials that barely correlate to the one you write for, that character is still a fucking minor! It’s giving “she’s actually 3000!!!” when she looks 8.

yeah. kay bye!!!