#idk I’m not trying to be rude or insensitive

[moochalove]

Bestest of Friends!(NSFW)

(pervert!Ayato x gullible!fem!reader)

Unfortunately I couldn’t form a single thought for part 3 of my Kazuha x Reader x Scara fic (i’m still cooking it up though so dw pookies☝️)

Iwhipped up this fic in a couple of hours…. I wanted to do more but it’s already so long!!

Anyways😋 ik i said gullible!reader but if you’re also perverted this can be seen as a reader who doesn’t stop his advances!

Not proofread!!

Word count: idk i should really check though! 🗣️

Being a friend of the Yashiro commissioner was something you hadn’t ever imagined. The Kamisato family was pristine, cunning, witty, and decisive. Their looks? You can’t even form the right words to describe them… Both of them are like porcelain dolls dressed in the finest silk clothing in all the land (although still below Her Excellency)

Sure, you were also pretty, but when you stand next to your good buddy Ayato, you just look like his helper… There have been times when you’ve been mistaken as his personal helper. Luckily Thoma was there to sort things out.

Ayato had approached you first. You had been smelling the flowers outside Komore tea house. The way you leaned over to smell the native bloom, with a delightful smile you pulled away from the flowers and accidentally bumped into the taller man’s chest.

Before you realized who it was you quickly apologized and tried running off. You did your best to avoid any social interaction, it always seemed like it caused more harm than good. (At least as the end result)

Something about you immediately grabbed Ayato’s attention, could it have been your silky/thick/bouncy/curly hair locks? The way your skin looked so soft (despite any texture it may have) oh, how he wished to caress it gently. He doesn’t even know your name and he’s already so far in love with you.

His purple-hued eyes watch your figure run further away, he should run after you but he’s still trying to process your enchanting body that has put him under a spell. It would be a shame if he were to let you go right now, sure, he can find you with the snap of his fingers, but he wants your official meeting to be something you’ll remember.

If only you knew that you had a practical prince running through the streets of Inazuma, knowing that would make drop to the ground out of shock, maybe even fear? Surely if someone so important were looking for you it’d mean you’ve done something wrong? The only thing Ayato would accuse you of being guilty of is being so pretty. (You guys have been in each other’s presence for about 45 seconds)

When he finally finds you you’re sitting on a bench, trembling and fidgeting with your hands. Perhaps you realized who he was and now you’re going through the motions of it all.

You immediately notice him and shoot up then offering up your seat. Oh how nice you were, your kindness knows no bounds, and surely goes the same for your love! Instead, he lets out a simple yet endearing laugh, “You offer me a seat despite it being rightfully yours, why so?” You’re fumbling with your outfit, avoiding eye contact, surely if you stay quiet he’ll leave you alone.

“Conversations usually involve two people, you know? Ah, perhaps it’s because of my status you’re hesitant to speak with me.”

Letting out a squeak you motion your hands in the hair before deciding to finally speak up. “I-I’m sorry. I just want sure if you were talking to me..”

Even the way he sits down is elegant and simple, “Who else would I be talking to? It seems you aren’t the most attentive person, hmmm I’ll make note of that..” He motions for you to sit next to him.

“I’m sorry I’m just not the most talkative person…” “Of course, anyone could notice that from a mile away.” he’s so blatant even he realizes he’s being insensitive by the way you curl in on yourself. “My apologies, I didn’t mean to be so rude. Let’s start over, I am Kamisato Ayato, although, like many Inazumans, I’m sure you already knew that.”

“I am L/n, L/n Y/n, It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kamisato.” It would be an understatement to say you were nervous but you were nervous! What if you came off as rude or impolite? You’re not well-versed in all formalities.

His eyes never leave your e/c irises, the way his eyes devoured you should’ve set off a few alarms in your mind but they all seem to be mute.

“No need for the formalities, Y/n. I was actually hoping to converse with your normally, you know, like friends! I do hope you would be okay with becoming friends, hm?”

Every time someone had reached out to be your friend it always ended up with you crying alone. You’re not sure why people picked on you but you also couldn’t bear to fathom the idea of being alone forever. People are just misunderstood! If no one understands them then they’ll be all alone! That’s why you feel the need to accept anyone in your heart with open arms. No one should hurt like you have, so you just need to keep looking on the bright side of things! Eventually, it will get better, right?

Ayato isn’t dumb, he’s got a sharp-keen eye and he’s already picked up a few things about you! Isn’t that so romantic? He’s already making a list in his head about flowers that would surely embrace your sense of smell. Flowers that would adorn your h/c locks. Ah, that’s beside the point…The point is, you’re very gullible! And there’s nothing he loves more than an exploitable person. Especially one as cute/handsome as you!

The way he laces his voice with a subtle hint of yearning, the way he tilts his head innocently, even the way he quirks his eyebrow with a gentle smile plastered on his face… Were all calculated in his fucked up mind! Even if it’s all for show, he knows you’ve already made up your mind.

You’re quick to agree so, eyes sparkling with joy, admiration, and yearning. Compared to his cheap fraudulent smile; yours is genuine, an adoring yet pathetic smile.

He leans in for a hug but you back away, “Ah, my apologies. I hadn’t considered if you enjoyed physical contact. Please, forgive me.” Oh, he knew what he was doing. The way he feigned innocence in his voice made you feel guilty. At that time you weren’t too open to physical contact but had you considered how he was doing? Being in such a high position must be on another plane of stress. Before he fully pulled away from you, you leaned in and wrapped your arms under his. It was a little awkward at first for you but he seemed to melt into you and embrace you affectionately.

You guys would meet up every week at the Komore tea house, talking about your lives and discussing plans about things you wanted to do currently and in the future. Ayato would have never guessed someone like you would want to leave your homeland for another nation. The way you talked about the nation of wind so joyfully, or how you thought about wanting to potentially open your own shop in Liyue, maybe even embrace the life of a scholar once again in Sumeru, the idea of learning the arts which Fontaine had to offer didn’t sound too bad either, although the world is a dangerous place so why not train in Nathan for a couple of years, ah, but the idea of falling in love in the snow-filled capital of Snezhnaya also seem to captivate your blissfully troubled mind.

Ayato did not like those ideas one bit. He would rather drop dead or be publicly humiliated if it meant for you to stay by his side for eternity. The way you showed signs of maturity angered him just a little. He wanted you to stay “young” and innocent like a little toy doll he could control, yet here you were, getting help from professionals, forming healthy relationships and habits, you even had someone to call your lover, he can’t be bothered to remember their name right now but he knows for sure you deserve someone better (he’s referring to himself.)

His hugs have gotten tighter, and the way he wraps his toned arms around your waist doesn’t seem to drive a reaction out of you, or at least a voiced reaction.

He wants to go further.

The way his hand possessively tangles itself onto yours, interlocking his slim fingers to yours, comparing hand sizes, and the way he cups his face with your hand while placing a kiss onto the side of it does seem to get a reaction out of you. “Um… You good, Ayato?” “Of course my dear, ah, my apologies Y/n if I’ve offended you. I just assumed I was allowed to do this since we are friends.” He says all while smiling into your palm.

“Haha, of course, it just caught me off guard is all!” you’re no better, the way you cup his face with your other hand before rubbing his face like a dog. “Although, Dear, I would advise against you telling anyone about this. It’s something that stays between good friends, understand?” All too entranced by how soft and smooth his skin is you agree.

Over the span of a couple of weeks, the touches have gotten worse, he’s touching places that only lovers should touch. When he comes in for hugs he’s groping the plump of your ass and feeling up and down your hips. Or when he leans in from behind to hug you, he’s wrapping his arms around you possessively and gently nipping at your neck. At first, you seemed a little concerned but your good buddy Ayato reminds you that it’s what friends do! Just don’t go around doing it to your other friends because you can only do this with very special friends. (Such as himself)

It was all part of his plan to break and rebuild you the way he likes. Breaking you was all too easy, all it took was for him to truthfully admit how much he adores his sister and his butler/friend Thoma. You broke down into a sobbing mess admitting how you longed for a relationship like that, longing for someone to treat you nicely, that aching pain in your heart you wished would go away. And it did when he hugged you and whispered positive affirmations into your ear, when he wiped your tears and snot away with his silk robes that definitely cost more than you, it relit your shrunken burnt out heart, it was now burning brightly again, with nothing but admiration for the prince who swept you off your feet and brought you to safety. Or at least that’s how you saw it.

Rebuilding you was currently in the works, he needed you to be whipped and ready to accept whatever passed through his throat as the truth and nothing more. Even if you’ve matured a little that doesn’t mean he can break through your now rough and tough exterior, the inside still raw and soft; gullible. The thought that you might shun him and realize his toxic behavior was more stress-inducing than all his work combined. He didn’t want you to throw him away! Only he was allowed to do that. If you were to get boring he could throw you away and leave you broken just as he found you, and he would be okay with it. But he loved you too much to even dwell on the thought even more than he has.

It was supposed to be a fun dinner party with everyone, and you’re lover too, but when he saw you adorning an apron with some excessive whipped cream your lover had booped on your face he couldn’t control himself. His mind plagued him with perverted thoughts, immediately he stated that you both had some things to catch up on and that the others should set the kotatsu with the proper cutlery.

As per usual, he greets you with a hug. The only difference is that it’s from behind and he’s trying his best to be the romantic man he is at heart and is currently helping you whip the thick cream that would complement the cake you had prepared. His hand is much stronger than yours, making it easy to stir and flip the cream, his other hand is mounted on yours against the side of the bowl. Nothing is said…

You can feel something hard poking into your rear but you ignore it, maybe it was his belt.

Ayato’s breathing is starting to labor, he’s bucking his hips ever so slightly against you. You turn around to say something but he simply leans in to kiss you. His hands have long abandoned stirring, instead holding your wrists with a single hand while the other fondles/caresses your chest. He’s guiding you to the island in the center of the kitchen before he’s bending you over. Bulge rubbing between your clothed sex was an amazing experience, the bundle of nerves was being stimulated pleasantly, and your hole was squeezing tightly against nothing. Based on the wet spot forming on your bottoms he can tell you’re bound to come undone soon. Hands wrapped around your throat with slight pressure applied has you turned on even more, everything feels hot and heavy down there, and you can hear a subtle slick noise coming from below, ah how embarrassing! You’re even more pathetic when he abruptly stops, whimpering and grinding your ass against him, trying to create even more friction, “W-why’d you stop?” His grip tightens before he whispers in your ear, “They’re near, let’s pretend to have a nice normal conversation, after all, it’s been a while since we’ve last caught up, hm?” he releases his grip from your throat, hands moving around your hips before he’s rutting against your sex again at a faster speed.

“So, Y/n, how has life been treating you? I hear you’ve made some new friends!” the longer you don’t respond he’s gripping bruises into your hips, “A-ah- I’ve been well! It’s true I’ve been- oh my- I’ve been making new friends! I wish I could’ve invited them today but-“you're covering your mouth with your hands, eyes rolling up from the pleasure as the fat on your chest bounces with every thrust. “B-but I know how jealous you get when I’m not paying- paying attention to you! Haahh.. So maybe next time y-yeah?” the ‘yeah’ was a little high-pitched but nobody would really notice unless they were right there at the door. “Oh yes, you know how possessive I can be,” emphasizing the word he can tell you’re about ready to reach your peak, his pants have long since dropped and his thick length is poking through his boxers, rubbing up against your wet folds and clit he can feel through those annoying pants of yours. He wished to rip them off then and there but he surely didn’t want to embarrass you by having you walk the walk of shame to the bathroom with ripped pants and a dripping wet cunt in front of everyone.

So he opted to give you your present early, it would have been so satisfying to gift you a beautiful silk kimono (in your favorite color) in front of your lover. Oh, how he wanted you to embrace him tightly in front of everyone exclaiming ‘thank you’ over and over again, something that he would definitely savor for his private time.

“I actually got you something, Dear!“ You’re not sure how he was able to easily flip you over and have your back pressed against the island but you’re too busy taking shallow breaths to even say anything. Stretching his limbs over you to reach for a plain-looking box, he pulls said kimono out and unfolds it from its once neatly folded state. “Isn’t it beautiful? I had it tailored to your body so it should fit like a glove. I won’t stress you the details but it’s worth a lot so please, cherish it.” once he finishes speaking his tip is rubbing circles into your hot clit, he’s smacking it with his fat pink tip, chasing his own high while he fists the thick base of his cock. Your high hits you hard and you squeal ‘thank you’ over and over again with the occasional ‘it’s so so pretty’ and ‘I’ll cherish it forever’ You’re loud enough for everyone to hear and that thought alone has him cumming onto your clothed cunt. Since he’s feeling so happy about it all he hasn’t stopped rubbing against you, which causes you to be overstimulated and for him to rip another orgasm from you. “C-cumming-“ is all he can muster up as he leans into you. His cock spasms as he pumps it, his cum spills onto your wet overstimulated cunt.

It takes him a moment to regain his composure as he slowly pulls away and clean himself up. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes but he’s kissing them away whispering, “Let’s get you changed, you’re going to look stunning for them all.” All you can do is hum okay in response as he starts to undress you. Pulling something else out of the box it’s a beautiful lingerie set, in fact, the one you’ve been thinking about buying for a while now… Not dwelling too much on the thought you kiss the mole beneath his soft lips in reciprocation. Ayato isn’t too vocal but when you kiss him there he can’t help but whine as he leans back into you, “Dear, I wouldn’t recommend doing that, or at least not until we’re in my quarters~” you stifle a giggle, “Okay, okay, just help me get dressed!”

When you slide the door open everyone is shocked and amazed at how stunning you look. You no longer look like a personal helper! Maybe not an equivalent to the siblings yet, but you’re getting there! Your lover is quite enthralled with your look but is also as bitter because they were planning on buying you that. Ayato notices their expression and huffs his chest pridefully.

The dinner goes well and everyone is happily content with all the food and desserts! Occasionally Ayato will glance at you or place his hand on your thigh but nobody knows.

After all, it’s what friends do! Right?

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin smut #kinda angsty #gullible!reader #fem!reader #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #ayato x fem!reader #genshin ayato #ayato smut

[eddywoww]

Hello. This is user ‘thekawaiibookwormii’ from ao3. I left an incredibly bad, immature, rude, and insensitive comment on one of your stories a very long while ago. I am sending this message to you from here because you did block me on ao3 and I’m too ashamed to make my ‘ask’ show my actual account, however I can assure you that this is really me.

I’m writing all of this to sincerely apologize. I regret what I typed to you. I regret and feel ashamed to have commented such rude, triggering things. I am sorry. I feel the need to explain my actions even though they were wrong. I had wanted to read your story, I thought it was something I would like and could handle but instead I let the way a character was written/treated trigger me. I can promise you that I am actively learning and correcting my attachments to characters. I am truly sorry. When I wrote that terrible comment I let all of my negative emotions type out terrible things. I for a short while decided to ignore everything I wrote you. I thought if I left my account alone I would forget about it. But I didn’t. Not only have i come to my senses I am actively working everyday to improve and change for the better. I am truly, very sorry. I regret typing the things that I did to you. As i type this I am trying not to cry. I’m upset and incredibly disappointed in myself for typing the things I did. I am truly sorry for hurting you and making that terrible comment. I truly am. I’m doing this not only because I want to, I need to. For all i know you could’ve forgot about the comment I left on your story, however I do deeply regret hurting and triggering you. I’m sorry. I like and want to be a good, better person who doesn’t allow my triggering thoughts hurt others. I’m sorry. I have changed. I hope you can forgive me.

I’ll be incredibly honest and say that I do get a lot of pretty bad comments (less now than last year, actually) and they start to blur together in terribleness. I have a hunch that I do know which one you might be talking about though.

I’m not in the business of holding grudges or anything. I was kind of bullied a lot as a child and had to drop out of school because of it. Idk over the years, I’ve kind of observed that when people are mean, it’s probably coming from a place inside them that isn’t doing well. Not always but sometimes. I’m glad you’re doing better and working at being kinder. Clearly you are, or you wouldn’t have sent me a message to apologize. I actually really do value an apology and kindness in someone, I think it’s a good trait to have. I’m sorry it bothered you for so long. Everyone can relate to saying something bad and then not being able to get away from it, allowing it to plague them.

Life is so messy for so many people. You’re alright, I’m not mad at you anymore or anything. I was probably mostly just sad. I like to be inclusive and nice to anyone who wants to talk to me, so I’m not going to berate you. Thank you for being brave and apologizing to me, I do appreciate and accept it. I hope that you can find some peace and happiness in your life 💕💕

#asks #lee asks

[sirensplayhouse]

after all your anons now i’m worried i can’t manifest my sp back 😭😭😭 i’m struggling with manifesting already but now i’m even more worried and idk what to do

I’ll try to make this sound non rude and insensitive 😬but ummmm you’re not gonna manifest anything with that mindset. you don’t struggle with manifesting , you manifest every second of the day whether you realize it or not. get out of that assumption that you’re struggling with manifesting . if you want your sp back then they’re yours .

[dannythedog]

is it bad that the way fans talk abt jita makes me super duper insecure?? Bc she’s super pretty and like not even “curvy” in the way the fans allude to (they make it sound like she’s like… v heavy when she’s like probably a size 8 … but that’s just me eyeballing not judging)

It makes me insecure bc I’m super super skinny and petite (like idk if you know who eugina Cooney is or whoever that one emo youtuber is that is v v v skinny) and i still get a lot of shit for it (ppl always ask me if I’m an*rexic which feels rly disrespectful to me bc I’m not suffering from an ED and I know ppl that actually are and that feels very insensitive to me???) Idk I’m not tryna start an argument or anything or trigger anyone or anything it just makes me feel rly weird abt myself bc I’m also younger (I’m 18) and I would hate to see how the fans would treat a girl built like me if one of the boys dated someone with a similar body type bc they’re kinda rly backhanded n like are lowkey rude abt jakes other ex who’s more curvy then jita??? Idk I’m sorry if this is ranty I’m not trying to bring u down :/

No it’s okay! This is a safe space!! The way that this fandom talks about bodies in general is really weird, so I understand what you mean. At one point Sam was getting “fat” and now he’s “too skinny”. I just feel like the perceptions are just so off sometimes. I think Jita is beautiful, and that’s just me looking at her face. You are beautiful in the same ways, regardless of what your body looks like. Im sorry that people say things like that to you. It is extremely disrespectful. Sometimes I feel like this fandom only accepts a very specific body type

#my asks

[fushic0re]

i know we’ve gotten used to demanding reblogs and comments from readers but if you think about it, the way we write and interact with others is also a huge factor on why some are not getting what they want. there are authors here who garner high and consistent engagement. why? because they are good at what they do and they don’t guilt trip anyone for it. they get 100+ anons daily without having to beg the tl for it because they write fics that make you want to scream and ramble, and also because they are welcoming, responds to feedback/doesn’t ignore replies people leave (i know many of us are guilty of this) and because they know how to get people to talk to them (definitely not through making REBLOG AND COMMENT OR I WILL DEACTIVATE 👹 posts). i understand the frustration of 10 reblogs and a hundred likes because i’ve been there too, i am there, but it’s not really a good look to threaten and demand people to leave comments and reblog our fics. they don’t owe us anything, and we don’t owe them anything either. of course there are anons who demand updates and we like to call them out by being like “then reblog my fic first! 🙄” but chances are, 98% of them do. idk, i keep seeing these demanding posts everyday and i get it (i can’t even crack 1k+ likes lol, need to improve and be more creative with plots) but it’s not the right approach… sorry if this comes across as rude and offensive, i’m not trying to be, just giving perspective.

to say "hey you're not getting engagement bc you're not good or don't interact with your consumers the right way" is also such a shitty thing to say when that's not always the case. i've read novel worthy fics on here from the most approachable, kindest people and they barely break 50 notes on their works which is absolutely insane to me. i see people hosting sleepovers/celebration events, asking how everyone's day is going, basically going out of their way to engage with viewers because that's just who they are as people. they're kind. and yet, they're also left in the dust. as a writer, you should know that this happens. people on here are TRYING their absolute hardest just for their works to be SEEN because they love them and are proud of them. that statement is extremely insensitive.

tumblr isn't the same anymore, which means we have to navigate it differently. this means speaking up about how tumblr algorithm doesn't do anything for us and instead, we need to support each other by reblogging. if this is an issue that people are passionate about, they deserve to speak up about it as much as they want rather than be silenced for the sake of "uwu my followers won't like me bc i'm speaking up about an issue uwu".

on this blog, i promote speaking up and standing by what you believe it. i don't give a shit if it makes anyone not want to reblog my fics bc i'm "begging" and it "bothers" you lmao. i'm not gonna bend over backwards and make myself smaller for a measly reblog.

also, no one is "threatening" to leave without reblogs. at least to the people i follow or those i have spoken to about this issue. we're simply pointing out logical arguments; if you kept working at something and weren't being met with any results, would you keep doing it? no, because that's counterproductive. if creators aren't feeling encouraged, they're gonna stop creating. that's not a threat. that's not "guilt tripping". that's fact and you just not being able to handle it.

#˚₊· ͟͟͞➳❥ honey answers #secret admirer ◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡

[arsonicversed]

@aranlae​ - The destruction of the village (Uzushiogakure) occurred during Kushina's lifetime, due to their renown for fūinjutsu. I speculate that this is because the fūinjutsu aided in Senju Hashirama's conquest for the Tailed Beasts, gaining alot of leverage and power for Konohagakure. It's the only thing I could come up with as to why Uzushio would be targetted by other villages, as Hashirama's death did significantly depower any defenses he might have initiated.

The Uchiha clan did not go out of Konohagakure afaik, hence how can we even compare. Uchiha clan were ostracised by friends, allies, colleagues, homeboys, and then exterminated on orders because of some sussy bakas suspicions. Uzushiogakure were exterminated by enemies in war. Why the fuck are we even comparing this?

I disagree with yur point that Naruto would understand Sasuke because Naruto was alone from the start and did not have interactions or even knowledge of how / why his clan was exterminated. It's not comparable because Sasuke lived laughed loved with his clan. We have no idea if any masscares were common knowledge because Konoha did not make mention of this to any relevant parties in-series. Also, idk if I misunderstood your point, but Madara did not force Nagato watch hi

Also, idk if I misunderstood your point, but Madara did not force Nagato watch his parents be killed.

tl;dr it's rude and insensitive to be comparing anyone's tragedies, or try to mansplain ""understanding"" when there is none. it just seems like you are expecting Sasuke to accept Naruto's talk-no-jutsu because of how "similar" they should be when they are not in anyway. Naruto never knew the Uzuamki clan and does not share the same sorrow and sadness or conviction that someone like Kushina might have had.

Like, you think it's okay because you disclaim that it is a joke but I need you to realise that what you are doing is trying to quantify trauma and that is the worst most toxic thing you could say to anyone with related traumas.

My guy. I was making comparisons to a fictional universe. To fictional massacres. I was making a point about how Sasuke and Naruto could relate to the aftermath of their clan’s tragedies. Both of them are nearly the last of their clan especially since Karin never even uses her clan’s name, so she’s all but disowned from it. So by all means Karin isn’t an uzumaki in the same way Naruto is.

I wasn’t trying to compare the exact pain they went through. I am sorry I did not portray that correctly. I was making comparisons to how they both are the last of their clans, and if anyone can relate to being the last of their clan who is in their age-group, it would be Naruto. Especially because, like Sasuke, his clan had been massacred. I’m not saying they can relate to the fact their clans both were eradicated, just the fact they both had been targeted and are now the last of their respective clans

I specifically say, relate to the entire clan, except one person being left alive, it’d be Naruto because to my knowledge not many other clan massacres happened.

I’m not saying sasuke should have listened to naruto???? Because im not comparing the pain they suffered because of the tragedy. Obviously naruto didn’t have a clan because they were all murdered. Naruto didn’t have the love Sasuke did like his clan, so he didn’t experience the pain of the tragedy.

I’m comparing the fact they both are the last of their clans, from clans that had been (in my opinion) unjustly slaughtered.

Like dude, this is fiction. I’m making these comparisons because it’s fiction. I’m not talking about actual genocides IRL, and I understand the pain both of them felt due to these tragedies is not remotely the same. I never argued  that. I am talking about how the Uzumakis, naruto mostly, could relate to being the last of their clan.

All I’m saying is im surprised no one in-universe addresses this after the fact. Naruto wouldn’t know what they did to his clan until he was a lot older, hell maybe no one will ever tell him! because being told your entire family was killed by the other 4 nations probably would cause some resentment for them and causing naruto to live a very lonely and family-less life (outside of Iruka, best dad)

Also where am I mansplaining understanding? By pointing out the similarities of how the Uzumaki clan kids grew up to Sasuke? Obviously Sasuke had it worse, all his family was killed before him, there is nothing that can compare to that. I never once said that sasuke should have been talked out of doing whatever because i never even brought it up??? I just said that naruto could relate more to “being the last member of the clan” or how the other uzumakis can relate to having similar experiences of having to live through seeing their family be killed before them. Then go ont o talk about how its weird no one talks about the uzumaki massacre

Honestly I dont think talking could have helped at all. I honestly wished Naruto would step off of Sasuke because of how much he violates his personal space which is something I hate that is done to sasuke. Yes, you shouldn’t give up on a friend, but sometimes you have to let your friend go, you can’t force yourself into their life and you shouldn’t like Naruto had.

One literally had 4 other clans going in and killing not just one clan, but an entire village to erase them from existence because of fear. The Uchiha clan, was killed. Because the Leaf feared what they would do.

Both of these were driven by fear. That’s the only comparison I can make.

Also if you think Senju wanted to obtain the tailed beasts to obtain power and collect them, literally at the first kage meeting he wanted to give them to the others, for free and it was his brother who said they were going to sell them for a price

This happened far before the Uzumaki clan was killed.

If you think me comparing tragedy in fiction, with fictional characters, and analyzing things and thinking about how characters could connect or reflect to one another causes IRL harm and belittles IRL tragedy I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not talking about anything IRL

I’m not trying to belittle real life pain and suffering. I’m talking strictly about fiction and characters that aren’t real

#Out of Fuel // OOC #Screams from the Abyss // MT #Long Post #Negative TW

[adorerdraco]

Malfoy’s Gone Soft! ✧ Draco x Reader

Summary: Draco, your boyfriend, is mean to everyone until you call him out for it.

Warnings: mentions of bullying :( and a couple profanities :0

Words: 2K 

A/N: omg i wrote this on a whim while listening to the euphoria score soundtrack in like an hour idk if its all that but i have no idea what i’m going to do next for Healing Heart so for now i’m just going to write other things for Draco until i get inspired ! & feel free to send me requests ! also thank you for 100 followers you guys are amazingggg !!!!!!!!!!! *insert pouty emojy*

The sound of arrogant and boisterous laughter filled the courtyard, the Slytherin Prince and his minions were tossing around a book bag that a helpless 2nd year Hufflepuff was chasing around every time it was thrown to another boy. One of the boys yelled a foul, “mudblood!” that made the boy tear up as he reached and jumped up for his bag that was in the air every few seconds. It was nothing new to the school, Draco and his band of bullies would bother anyone who they found as an easy target just for the fun of it.

Unfortunately for Draco, you had been passing by through one of the corridors with a group of friends when you had seen the fiasco. As much as you adored your boyfriend, you couldn’t deny the sometimes nasty persona that he had and how much it bothered you. He would always swear up and down that he would stop his antics, but you often encountered him or heard from other people of him being in the same situations that he had promised would stop. 

You marched your way over to the group, a fire in your step and your eyes fixated on Draco who was laughing like a fool. You watched as Goyle rushed to elbow Draco’s side, earning him a look until he had pointed in your direction. All joy in the blond’s face quickly drained once he saw your vexed expression heading towards him.

The book bag had dropped from his hands onto the stoned courtyard ground, the young Hufflepuff hastily grabbed it and ran off in tears back into the castle. You stomped up to Draco, noticing how he had visibly swallowed in fear at what your reaction would be.

“What happened to, ‘I swear I’ll stop being a git to everyone!’” You asked him incredulously, mocking his voice as you quoted him. 

“Malfoy said that?” Blaise chuckled as if it were a joke. Both you and Draco turned to give him a frenzied look.

“Y/N, I...” Draco trailed off, looking around at his friends who were awaiting his response with smug smiles on their faces. Then he looked towards you, a hope glittering in your eyes that he would reassure you and be the sensitive boy you knew behind closed doors and away from his every day reputation. “I...”

“So you have nothing to say for yourself?” you deadpan, a scowl making its way onto your face when you realized he wasn’t going to apologize.

“Why do you care what I do to a stupid little Hufflepuff?” He snickers. Whatever hope you had left went up in flames, he had chosen his reputation.

“Because it’s mean,” you sneered. “Why would I want to be with an arse like that?”

With that, you turned on your heel, walking out of the courtyard and back to your friends where you walked to your next class without turning back to look at the group of shocked boys.

“I think you just got dumped, mate.”

“Merlin’s sake, do you ever shut up Zabini?” Draco fumed, his heart breaking at the question and his mind running a million miles per minute. He began walking towards the entrance of the castle to head into the common room, bumping shoulders aggressively with Blaise as he did.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You weren’t sure whether or not you and the Slytherin Prince were broken up. Of course, it was the last thing you wanted but you were sick of the endless excuses and empty promises. You knew of the package deal Draco Malfoy came with when you started dating him, but there was a point when it all became too much. You were hoping in a last ditch effort, that if he genuinely really cared for you and respected your wishes, this would be the final push he needed to change.

It’s not like you were asking him to completely stop being himself. You were only asking for him to stop with the unprovoked teasing and pushing around of innocent bystanders. His friends especially, were a big reason why he continued to do it as he loved being the leader of the group and all that came with his positions as; the funniest, the most attractive and charming, the smartest, the wealthiest, the strongest. It was all just a game to him but he never saw the aftermath of his tormenting and how it could really affect someone or their day. You were like a broken record, repeating to him over and over again the same wish you had for him but he never absorbed it.

So now here you were, furiously writing your Potions essay in the library as your mind ran with thoughts of the aggravating platinum blond and nothing having to do with Calming Draught. 

“Write any harder and you’ll break your quill,” a certain timid voice said from in front of your table. You didn’t look up, already knowing it was Draco. You didn’t want to give in so easily to his intoxicating nature because the second his scared gray eyes were to meet yours, you’d melt. “Y/N, I’m sorry. For what happened in the courtyard.”

You sighed, setting down your quill and shaking your head, eyes still trained on your parchment. “It’s not just what happened in the courtyard, Draco. It’s that you do this to someone new every single day.”

“I’ve been this way all my life, I can’t just change who I am,” he argues. You finally look at him, the both of you silently seething at each other.

“That’s not an excuse!”

“Shh! Quiet down, the two of you or you will be asked to leave,” Madam Pince exclaims angrily from her desk. You turned back to Draco, hard eyes trained on him as he glared back at you with the same irritated look.

“I would just like to know why my girlfriend feels the need to suck the life out of all my fun,” he says lowly to you. Your face goes scarlet as you try to contain your wrath from being let out on the whole library, and on Draco who wouldn’t even know where to begin to handle it. But as angry as you were, it was quickly replaced with anguish and pooling tears as you thought of the main reason why you had wanted him to be nicer.

“Because your ex-girlfriend knows how it feels like to get bullied and targeted every day for no reason,” you spit sorrowfully. “I know what it’s like to live on the opposite end of what you think is fun and I promise you it’s nothing near that.”

You hurriedly grabbed all your things and rushed out of the library with tears streaming down your face as Draco only stood there feeling like the biggest most insensitive idiot and asshole in the world. 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It had been a week since the incident at the library and the both of you couldn’t be any more miserable. It had gotten to the point where Draco felt ashamed and gross if he was even accidentally rude to someone, let alone on purpose. The blond boy watched you intently from his Slytherin table in the Great Hall, his friends and their conversation sounding like a distant incoherent buzzing as he focused onto your sad and defeated face and figure from afar. 

He had tried everything he could think of to get your attention, to get you to hear his apologies, but you wouldn’t give him the time of day; you refused to. You were beyond hurt. Not only because of Draco, but also because of the painful memories that had resurfaced that you spent so long trying to get over. It was all just a mess and Draco regretted everything he had said to you and everything he didn’t do for you.

“Just give it a rest, Draco,” Pansy sighs exasperated at the boy’s longing stares. “She broke up with you, stop pouting about it and move on.”

“Shut up, Pansy,” Draco sneers. “Mind your business why don’t you.”

“I’m just saying, if I was her, I would never do or say anything to ruin our relationship,” she shrugs, peering up at the frowning Slytherin through her eyelashes.

“You’re not her though, are you?” Draco snarks, his eyes squinting at her as he shoots the mean remark her way. All the surrounding boys give an “oooh” at the interaction, cackling as they watch Pansy go red in the face before abruptly standing up and leaving the table in a rush. 

Draco did the same and removed himself from the table to dart out of the Great Hall and towards an empty corridor near the courtyard where he liked to hide on an large windowsill. He had enough of his despair and enough of sitting around and doing nothing to win you back, so he got to work on something that would be his last and this time big gesture, to get you to listen.

A few hours had gone by, it was sunny and there was a nice breeze that was perfect for Draco’s plan on winning you back. He especially knew that when the weather was like this, you enjoyed sitting on a bench in the courtyard, the sun caressing your face with warmth as you read a book. 

He walked out of the corridor and towards the courtyard, and just like he knew, he spotted you sitting at your favorite bench angled towards the sun and deeply entranced in whatever book was in your lap. He took a deep breath before nearing you, stopping a few feet away to where you didn’t notice his presence just yet. His hand reached into the pocket of his robes, picking out the small and large variety of origami birds notes he had written and charmed to fly over to you and around you in a pretty and gentle circle. A bouquet of red and y/h colored flowers had appeared in his hands behind his back, all he was waiting for was for you to accept him.

You looked up from your book, eyeing all the paper birds that were fluttering around you and across the way was a frantic looking Draco with his hands hiding something behind his back. You let out a deep exhale, reaching out to grab one of the birds and unfolding the note to read his perfect cursive.

I’m sorry.

Then you grabbed another.

Please forgive me.

Then another.

You are everything to me.

And another.

I promise to change my habits.

And then the final one, the biggest bird of the bunch.

I should have listened to you from the beginning and I’m sorry I haven’t been more sympathetic. I’m also sorry that you had to go through that in your past. You are so beautiful and strong and deserve everything good in this world.

You placed your book to the side and stood up, opening your arms in a hug for Draco before he bolted towards you and enveloped you into his arms with a sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he apologizes again into your hair as he nuzzled into you. He pulled back, handing you the large bouquet of flowers that made you blush as red as the roses that were mixed into the assortment. “I can’t promise you I’ll be perfect, but I swear on everything I love, I’ll try.”

“You don’t have to be perfect, Dray,” you chortle. “All I’m asking is for you not to be such a terrorizing little git.”

“Done,” he grins, throwing himself into your arms again as you giggled and ran your hands through his hair.

The two of you plop onto the bench below you, Draco peppering kisses all over your face in glee and gratefulness that you gave him another chance to prove himself. He didn’t even dare remove himself from you when he saw his friends strolling by, snickering and pointing to the nearly snogging couple.

“Malfoy’s gone soft!” Blaise yells across the yard, the rest of the boys laughing in response as usual like the mindless bozo’s that they were. Draco rolled his eyes, throwing them the middle finger before nuzzling himself back into your embrace.

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x gryffindor #draco malfoy x slytherin #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy blurb #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy angst #draco x reader #draco x you #draco x y/n #draco imagine #draco lucius malfoy #harry potter writing #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #draco malfoy fanfiction #harry potter

[droidmom]

Sorry, I had to unfollow for all the drama earlier, that pro-baby anti-baby thing really freaked me out. (I'm sorry, but just as someone who's extremely tokophobic, hearing someone I respect say that no one reasonable would say mean things about babies freaked me out)

that’s understandable. if it at all helps, my issue wasn’t like “no one reasonable would say mean things about babies.” it was more “i don’t understand why this particular story is being shared with me of all people or anyone for that matter” bc of the contents. maybe if i’d like, responded directly that would’ve helped clear things up but i didn’t want my followers to see a story about someone accidentally making fun of a baby’s physical deformity and laughing about it.

idk. i get why the vagueness of my response could be read like that w/o the ask’s contents, esp if you already have a sensitivity to it, but calling people unreasonable for having personal issues with kids is absolutely not what i was saying. for all anyone knew the ask could’ve been something horrifically violent or inappropriate, which is again what i would have been referring to. not just someone admitting a repulsion to kids.

all i was asking is that people don’t send me rude stuff about babies and to think about how they express that kind of thing if they absolutely feel the need to.

#Anonymous #also isn’t tokophobia more about the pregnancy/childbirth element? #i’m kind of confused about how that would like… warrant saying mean things about babies themselves #in a kind of. blanket sense rather than just .... being personally freaked out by them #but ofc if this has been stressful and assuming ur not seeing this post bc u unfollowed i dont like #expect u to write a detailed ask about your issues i'm just... genuinely confused on that mark #i hope that doesnt come across as insensitive #and like. im not trying to say phobias aren't reasonable but if u have a fear bad enough to label it doesnt that. #kind of veer into irrational territory? not in the sense of like. it being irrational to fear the thing . but in the sense of not being able #think/discuss it in an unbiased manner?? #which might kinda mean that saying rude stuff about kids who haven't done anything wrong isn't the most reasonable thing to do? #idk if i were afraid of spiders i m allowed to personally find them gross and not want them on me but #i wouldnt say rude blanket stuff about all spiders esp to someone who has a pet tarantula #or studies them for a living #i dont expect ppl to memorize every drop of personal data i leak onto here and that anon did claim it was an accident!! #but i also do talk about my little sibs and my internalized issues w wanting my own kids someday a lot on here #so at the very least i personally was the very very very wrong audience for that ask and i still don't think it was #something that was appropriate to talk about proudly #not bc i think legit fears are inappropriate #and lbr the anon probably isnt in the same boat as you #but bc i think people need to be a lil more mindful about HOW they express those personal preferences

[electracraft]

(you can priv reply/don’t have to respond to this just wanted to say) you’re so right on the techno thing people throw around the word homophobe so easily when what they usually refer to is ignorance/insensitivity. i’m a lesbian and yea his jokes were that dumb and rude and edgy humor but it doesn’t equate to? to acts of hate and prejudice?? like homophobia is such a deeply ingrained hatred that can be so dangerous to people, lead to so much misinformation and genuinely life-threatening violence that it’s almost insulting how freely the word is thrown around. it boggles my mind that shitty stupid tweets from years ago can unravel and undo all the good and charity he does now. how can one expect to have meaningful conversations about this if you’re going to label someone a bigot and jump down their throats regardless of what they do yknow? like you said, it’s so counterproductive and conflates the situation to such a huge degree. obviously the situation can and does make people uncomfortable and i can’t take away that feeling from anyone or say it’s not valid simply because i don’t feel it (and obviously i can’t speak on other affected communities/individuals, i’m just one (1) gay person). but what comes from labeling him a homophobe, organizing boycotts against charity streams?? idk it’s just so not the way to go sorry if this doesn’t make any sense

^^ exactly, i agree with all of what you said, there comes a point where the criticism isn't constructive anymore and it's when you're trying to prevent someone from raising money for charity. this obviously just goes against everyone's interests, and if you are mad at someone for trying to use their platform for good because they used to have edgy offensive humour 4 years ago then i don't know what to tell you except that maybe the point of what you're doing isn't really educating and prompting growth like you preach.

#ask #enderfrog #discourse #this makes good points so im posting it #i already talked a bit about my opinion in the tags of the other post so im not gonna talk too much #but my opinion on throwing around the term homophobia without really explaining what degree of offensive and actually harmful it was #is the same as yours #long post #again obviously this isn't to invalidate anyone's feelings on this as you don't owe anyone forgiveness or anything #it's just to say that when a personal dislike leads to boycotting chaity and refusing to acknowledge the good that someone makes to fit a #specific narrative #it becomes pointless and takes away from actual constructive discussions that are always welcome

[auroracalisto]

as fate will have it

request: Can I please request a Sweet Pea x sweet/innocent!fem!reader when soulmates meet, something important to themselves appears on their soulmate’s wrist as a tattoo. So since being a Serpent is so important to Sweet Pea, a Serpent tattoo appears on Y/n’s wrist, and since being loving is so important to Y/n, a heart would appear on Sweet Pea’s wrist. It would be especially cute if Y/n found out that she’s actually FP’s daughter/Jughead’s year younger sister (but was raised by her adoptive parents in the Northside and maybe FP didn’t know that he had another daughter because her birth mom never told him she was pregnant) because she has “Serpent blood” so it’s like it was fate.  Oooo also, I don’t know if this would be good to add to the plot, but it would also be interesting if Y/n’s adoptive parents told her she had to pick between them or FP & Jug, so an it’s us or them type of thing. Y/n picks FP, her birth dad, and her newfound older brother, Jughead, so she would go to live with them in the trailer.  — @kpopgirlbtssvt​

summary: request covers this 

word count: 2.4k words

warnings: rude parents?  adoption (idk if that’s something to trigger, but just to be safe).  being kicked out of home.  it’s also very possible that it’s ooc sweet pea BUT it’s fineeee

author’s notes: i wanted to clarify that it’s been like two years since i last saw the first season riverdale, so some things could be a little off.  the show is wack but i love the characters.  i also might have somewhat gone off from what the request was, and if i went off too much, just let me know and i will write something else!

Your friend quickly took her seat beside you, smiling.  "Did you hear?"

"Hear what?" you looked up from your book, slipping a piece of paper in between the old pages.  

She let out a soft giggle.  "Well, uh, I know you don't really care, but everyone else is busy—"

"—is that why you're talking to me?"

"Oh my god, no," she blushed.  "No, sorry, that came out totally insensitive, didn't it?  I just... okay, well, they're closing down the southside."

Your eyes widened a bit.  "What?"

"Yeah.  They're gonna consolidate the schools.  So everyone from the southside will be coming up here.  They're supposed to start coming in today.  You should try to see if anyone is your soulmate," she grinned.  

"Yeah, okay, but you've already found your soulmate," you sighed softly, standing up.  You had hardly touched your lunch at all.  From your book and the mention of your soulmate, you didn't want to touch it.  You wanted to meet your soulmate.  Oh, you wanted to love them like they deserved to be loved.  But here you were, finding it hard to believe that you had a soulmate.  

Your friend just smiled.  "You know I love you, right?"

You rose an eyebrow but you soon returned the smile.  "Yeah, yeah.  I know."

She just smiled before she rushed off, gods only know where.  

You stuffed your book back into your backpack, carrying your tray to empty it.  You needed to stop by your locker before your next class.  

Walking out of the cafeteria, you started towards your lockers.  New faces filled the hallway the farther you walked.  You could feel the anxiety start creeping into your veins, but not because of the southside—you had began to wonder if you would find your soulmate from the people who transferred.  

You sighed softly to yourself as you came to your locker—and you had even been prepared to get into it when you saw a man leaning up against it.  He was tall, his hair was dark, and he had gorgeous brown eyes.  He was talking to a short girl with streaked hair and another guy with equally dark hair.  

You cleared your throat to get the tall guy's attention and your blush only darkened as he looked over at you.  

"Would you mind moving?  You're on top of my locker..."

He stared at you for a moment before he nodded, pushing himself off from the locker.  But before he could move too far, a searing pain took over his wrist.  Just as quickly as it had came, it disappeared.  He quickly looked down at his wrist, only to realize that the same exact thing had happened to you.  And now, you were staring down at a serpent tattoo on your wrist, whereas a heart took its place on his own.  

The girl with streaks in her hair was smiling.  "Uuhhhh," she grabbed a hold of the other boy.  "Have fun," she quickly said, before leading him away.  

You blushed and looked up at the man.  "Uh—"

"—a northsider?" he asked, but he couldn't help his smile from forming.  He was about to tease you, but he couldn't help his happiness.  He finally found his soulmate.  "Do you know how much hell I'm gonna get for this?"

Your blush only darkened.  "I—I, well," you breathed out, but your own smile spread across your face.  "That's exciting.  I still need to get in my locker."  You were buzzing with happiness.  The boy moved out of the way and you quickly got into it, looking up at him.  He was far taller than you.  You couldn't help the grin that showed up.  

"I'm Sweet Pea," he said.  

You blushed.  "That's cute."  He rose his eyebrows.  "I mean—" you let out an awkward laugh.  "My name is [Your name]."

"It's nice to meet you, [Your name]," he blushed a bit.  He just smiled.  He would have said more, but his name was shouted from across the hallway.  He looked at you and bit his lip, before he suddenly grabbed your arm, taking a permanent marker from your locker.  He wrote down his number before he looked up at you and grinned.  "Text me, okay?"

You blushed and nodded, before you watched him leave.   

[]

That night, you were too excited to tell your parents about your day.  You finally found your soulmate.  And he was totally attractive.  And worth your love.  You had decided this just moments after he grabbed your arm to write his number down.  It felt like the stars were aligned, just for you.  Perhaps that's what it felt like when you found your soulmate—like nothing could go wrong.  

But as you walked in to your home, dropping your backpack to the floor, it was dead silent.  You walked into the dining room, seeing your parents sitting there with a couple of papers laying out.  Your mother was close to tears, but your father seemed angry.  He cleared his throat as he saw you.  

"[Your name].  Sit."

You did as you were told, beginning to frown.  You looked at your mom.  "What's going on?"

"[Your name].  Remember how we told you we had adopted you?"

You looked at your dad and nodded.  "Of course.  But that doesn't matter... because you're both my parents.  What's this about?"

"Your mother."  

You quickly looked at her, frowning.  

"Your mother fabricated a couple of papers.  She wanted a baby so badly that she would lie about who you belonged to just so she could have you."

"What?"

"You belong to FP," your dad said, staring down your mother.  You always knew that your father didn't like southsiders, but this was odd.  

"I don't belong to anyone, dad—"

"—don't," he said, frowning at you.  "Your mother decided that it was okay to adopt the child of a gang leader.  She put us in danger.  Your sister.  Your grandparents."

"What—they've never hurt anyone," you frowned at the man.  "Why would she have endangered them if they swear against violence like that—"

"—you'd be surprised," he snorted through his nose.  He clenched his jaws before he handed you the papers.  Before you could grab them, he just dropped them in front of you.  You picked one up, seeing your real birth certificate.  Your birth mother was listed, and then so was your birth father.  Your father was right—FP Jones was listed as your birth father.  

Your face paled and you looked up at him.  "What is this?  What are you trying to tell me?"

"Choose."

"Excuse me?"

"Choose.  The Jones.  Or us."

You looked over at your mother in disbelief.  "What happens if I choose you?"

"We will forbid you from talking with the Jones."

You blinked a couple of times, confusion washing over you.  "But if they're my biological family, I'd like to know them—"

"—if that's the case," your father frowned, "just go and live with them."

You stared at him, feeling your heart beat rushing in your ears.  You quickly got to your feet.  Your mother wasn't defending you.  Your father was kicking you out.  It only took a few moments for you to decide that you would leave.  You quickly rushed to the front door, grabbing your bag.  But not before you had grabbed the papers your father had sat in front of you.  The proof was in the ink—literally.  

You pulled your backpack onto your back, looking down at the papers as you pulled out your phone.  

It had been literal years since you last talked to Jughead Jones.  You had his contact, still.  At least, the one he had whenever the two of you were friends in your seventh grade year.  You began to hope that the stars were aligned for you once more as you clicked on the contact and listened to it ringing.  By the fourth ring, you were prepared to turn your phone off, but you almost gasped as you heard Jughead's voice.  

"Shh," you heard Jughead, before he said hello.  

"Jughead?  Uh, it's [Your name]—"

"—yeah, I have your contact."

"Right," you blushed.  "I, uh," you cleared your throat.  "Do you mind if I swing by your house?  I need to talk to your dad."

You didn't mention the fact that you had just been kicked out of your home.  That could come at a later point in time.  

Jughead blinked a couple of times and he leaned back in his seat.  "Yeah, of course.  When will you be here?"

"In about an hour," you said.  

"Alright.  See you then?"  

With that, he hung up.  He looked over at Sweet Pea, Fangs, and Toni.  

"Who was that?" Sweet Pea asked.  

"[Your name]."

[] 

You hadn't anticipated the walk to Jughead's house, but you still remembered the way.  It had taken you the full hour to get there from your house.  But you were there.  As you walked up to the trailer, you noticed two motorcycles parked by Jughead's dad's truck.  You walked up the stairs and knocked on the door.  You probably looked a mess—from the walk and from the cold air, you were sure you were as red as the red lipstick you always had stuffed in the bottom of your book bag.  

The door began to open and you quickly greeted Jughead, only stopping short when you realized Sweet Pea had answered.  

He smiled at you.  "Hi."

You began to blush and you smiled.  "Hi..."  

He moved out of the way and let you inside.  FP was in the living room, and he looked over at you, confused.  

"What has it been?" he asked, beginning to smile.  "Three years?"

"Four, sir," you weakly smiled.  

FP took notice and he tilted his head.  Sweet Pea frowned and led you over to sit down.  He looked at the papers in your hands as he sat on the edge of the armchair you sat on.  His eyes widened and he quickly looked over at Jughead and his father.  

"I... I wanted to tell you about this.  I don't... do you remember a Julie Harding?"

FP blinked harshly before he nodded.  "Yes."

You took in a deep breath as you looked down at the papers.  "She's my birth mother."

Jughead looked at you with a frown.  "You were adopted?"

You nodded towards him and handed FP your papers.  He took one look at the birth certificate and he looked up at you in disbelief.  "Are you serious?"

You weakly smiled, once more.  "They kicked me out when they realized you were my birth dad."

Sweet Pea's jaw was locked as he looked at you.

FP frowned.  "Well.  You're always welcome here.  I...  I can't believe this," he said.  His frown soon formed into a smile.  "I have another daughter," he breathed out.  

Jughead looked at the papers for a moment.  "We're siblings?"

"I guess so," you began to smile as well.  

Sweet Pea watched you for a moment.  You were always filled with smiles.  You were always happy, even in moments like this.  It astounded him, but he knew that he needed that in his life.  He knew that the stars were truly aligned in just the right way.  

He suddenly took a hold of your hand and you laced your fingers with his, blushing.  Sure, your parents hurt you.  But you took one look around the trailer and you realized that these people were the ones that you could truly make a family out of.  

[]

Two months down the road, you were still asking Sweet Pea to move out of the way so you could get into your locker.  But instead of him staring at you the entire time, he would just kiss your cheek or your forehead, or even your lips, and move to stand on the other side.  Which side truly depended on his mood, just like where he kissed you.  

Every time you would see Jughead, he would greet you with a smile and a short conversation, but when the two of you were with your new friends, you were truly yourself.  You found comfort in the serpents.  You found comfort in your biological family, and with your soulmate, Sweet Pea.  

Sweet Pea stood by your locker, his arms crossed over his chest as he saw you walk down the hall.  He couldn't help his frown from turning into a smile.  Before you could ask him to move, he leaned forward to kiss your cheek.  He quickly took your books and stuffed them in your already opened locker—Toni had memorized your combination and he asked her to unlock it for him.  

He took your hand.  "Come on.  I have a surprise for you."

You rose an eyebrow but you laced his fingers with his.  You tried to protest when you realized that he was about to lead you out of the school, but you stopped yourself.  FP wouldn't berate you for skipping a couple of classes.  

Sweet Pea brought you over to his motorcycle and her turned to look at you, smiling.  "Wear this," he said, handing you his helmet.  

You just blushed and did as you were told before you got onto the back of the sleek bike.  You wrapped your arms around his torso and he put on his helmet before he started his motorcycle and took off.  He drove fast, but not dangerously.  In a matter of minutes, the two of you were back at FP's trailer.  Sweet Pea helped you off and took a hold of both of your hands.  

"What—"

"I don't have anything to show you.  I just... know that your birthday is coming up soon and I wanted to celebrate alone while we can."

You blushed and gently shoved his shoulder.  

"Not that," he laughed.  "Get your mind out of the gutter.  Nah, I wanted to have a movie marathon with you, but if that's what you want—"

"—movie marathon," you blushed, taking a hold of his hand once more.  He smiled and led you into the trailer.  

He stopped in the doorway to look at you, just taking in your beauty.  He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

"Did I ever tell you how thankful I am that you're my soulmate?" he asked.

You just blushed and shook your head as he let out a soft laugh and hugged onto you.  

Your soulmate acted tough in public—but around you and in private, he was a softy.  Your heart melted every time you saw him, and actions like this only strengthened your love for the man.  You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled.  

"I love you, Sweet Pea."

His eyes widened as he heard the words, but his smile never left him.  

"I love you, too, [Your name]."

#sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader? #riverdale #riverdale x reader #one-shot #fp jones #jughead jones #y/n jones #soulmate #soulmate au

[0tiredfangirl0]

I am literally the worst person ever.

I’m clingy (like, ridiculously clingy, being that clingy should be illegal)

I’m annoyingly loud

I’m selfish

I tease my friends just because it entertains me

I talk behind my friend’s back

I can’t keep a secret (I thought I could, but apparently not)

I get annoyed at someone for not trusting me even though I broke her trust heaps of times

I yell when im upset

I get annoyed that people don’t care, even though I know full well I don’t matter

I get upset when people are kind of mean to me, even though I probably deserve worse

I usually don’t fake a smile when I need to

I’m insensitive

I can’t stay true to my word

I don’t try enough for my friends

I overstep personal boundaries

I’m rude

I gossip

I can’t let go of the past

I sulk

I text people all the time even though I know they actually have lives unlike me

I don’t shut up

I try to vent to people who i know don’t care

Im awkward

I let my fear get the best of me

I’m lazy

I’m dumb

I expect everyone to handle my problems for me

I’m a dramatic bitch

I can’t keep my mouth shut

I embarrass my friends

I’m so sorry for posting this, Ik you’re probably really annoyed at me rn.

I’m so sorry. So, so sorry. Idk why I even posted this.

#im the worst #im stupid #i’m mean #i’m horrible #sorry i had to #i suck i know #why can’t I be nice #why can’t I be a good person #bad friend #horrible person #I’m horrible I know

[hateswifi]

I Only Have Eyes for You

A quick Daminette blind!Mari Au with a twist at the end. I hope you enjoy! Go check out my other stories after you finish reading.

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

"I'm so sorry," Marinette said, brushing herself off as she stood up.

"Watch where you are going next time!" a  deep voice angrily exclaimed before she heard his footsteps rush off in front of her.

"Marinette! That was so rude why would you draw attention to yourself like that!" Alya exclaimed.

"Well I'm sorry that you all didn't want me to draw attention to my cane, none of you warned me!" Marinette said back. (Ok quick explanation, needed a reason why Marinette didn't have her cane out.)

"Whatever, pay more attention next time," Alya muttered.

"How would you like me to do that?" Marinette asked, leaning to one side.

"I had a friend who overcame her blindness, they did a transplant on her eyes," Lila spoke up, 'attempting' to break the tension.

"Ya because that sounds realistic," Marinette mummers to herself.

"Because it's not realistic," Chloe said, rejoining the group, she had gone to grab Marinette's cane from the bus.

"You've just never heard of it, the doctors probably never told your parents so you wouldn't get your hopes up. I mean you're not too rich," Lila pointed out.

"Girls calm down, it's time to begin our tour," Ms. Bustier said, walking back from the front desk.

"Hello, Francis DuPont, welcome to Wayne Enterprises. I'm your tour guide, Richard," The tour guide greets. *Insert Lila lying and normal field trip shenanigans here (if requested will write later) * "I hope to see you all at the celebratory gala at the end of the week, please enjoy your stay here in Gotham."

She was tired of her class, she convinced Chloe to take her to the nearest park so she could hear the sounds to hopefully inspire her in her next song. She has been practicing with the help of Uncle Jagged with writing, well someone writing down, songs and singing them. Uncle Jagged thinks she has potential.

Chloe had left Marinette for a couple of minutes to grab ice-cream, they both deserve it after putting up with Lila and her sheep. She hears footsteps approaching her that sounding similar to Chloe's when she wears shoes, not high heels like today, (she's not very used to Chloe's footstep when there not in heels, sue her). 

"Hey, Chloe what ice-cream did you end up getting?" She asked, facing the footsteps.

"Wait you're blind! Why didn't you have your cane earlier?" The voice, definitely not Chloe's, asked approaching her.

"Are you the guy from earlier, the one I ran into?" Marinette asks, avoiding his question.

"Ahh... Yes. Sorry about the 'watch where you're going' that was incredibly insensitive, even for me," he responded.

"Don't worry about," Marinette says, nonchalantly. "I'm Marinette."

"Hi, Marinette, my name is Damian," he responds. "So why are you alone in the park in the most crime-ridden city in America."

"Why? You trying to kidnap me?" Marinette answers with a giggle. "I'm waiting for my friend to get back."

"What have I told you about not talking to strangers, especially ones that look dark and angsty," Chloe says, walking up with two ice-creams in her hands.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Chloe. I forgot to ask, 'hey, Person, I've never met before, are you dark and angsty? If so by my dear friend Chloe's rules, I'm not allowed to speak with you' because I can totally trust someone's answer," Marinette says sarcastically.

"I'm the sarcastic one! You're supposed to be the sweet angel, who is sometimes terrifying," Chloe wines, placing Mari's cone in her hand.

"Whatever you say, Bee. Damian this is Chloe, Chloe this is Damian. Ya know the person I supposedly 'made a scene over'." Marinette said.

"Nice to meet you, Chloe, I should be off, I don't want to disturb you both anymore and my father will call me soon for a meeting," Damian says, standing. He turns to Marinette and says. "I hope to meet you again." Before he exited the park. 

"How... you can't even see how hot he is," Chloe complains, slouching beside Marinette. 

"Chloe, ya know looks don't matter to me because it's what's on the inside that counts," Marinette says a smile on her face, already knowing how Chloe would respond.

"Plus you're blind so you don't have to worry about how they look," Chloe snickers before checking her watch. "If you want time to walk around the store a bit before dinner, we should get ready to go."

"Cool, let's go then, I promised Mama something I need your eyes to help me," Marinette said, standing up. She tucked her cane away and let Chloe lead her to the shopping district.

The finished shopping, Marinette got her Mama some homemade tea from one of the small business, and a fun new apron. (I'm not funny, so I'm not going to attempt to come up with something clever.) They got back to the hotel with enough time to get ready for dinner. Marinette put on an outfit, with the help of Chloe, high waisted black ripped jeans, a white lace tank crop top, and a pink mid-thigh cardigan, paired together with a silver moon necklace. (idk, it be 1:30). The bus surprisingly didn't leave without her, which she was happy about. The dinner was phenomenal and she has hopes for a good rest of her night, that was until she went to the bathroom and found out her group left without her. She sighs, pulls out her flip phone (I'm like 98.9% sure blind people can't use smartphones.) and dials Chloe's number.

"I tried to get Bustier to wait for you, but little miss liar lied and said you were already on the bus," Chloe explained.

"It's fine... I need a walk anyways, see you later," Marinette said, hanging and putting her phone on silent and exits the restaurant. Not too long after she hears light footsteps touch the ground.

"Miss do you need help getting back to where you are staying? You know this is the most crime-ridden city in the world," A somewhat familiar voice comes from behind her.

"Seriously Damian we're back to Miss?" Marinette laughs.

"Robin, I told you to stay on the roof," another voice comes from landing beside them.

"Damian, you're friends with Richard? He was my tour guide earlier," Marinette adds.

"Umm yes, I'm Damian's brother," Dick said. "You can call me Dick though."

"Hi, Dick, my name is Marinette," She says, holding out her hand in his voice's direction, which he grabs and shakes. She scrunches her nose at the feeling of leather. "Why are you wearing gloves? It's not that cold out."

"Oh I'm a germaphobe," Dick answered quickly.

"Oh I'm sorry, I should be getting back to the hotel," Marinette said, turning her back ti were their voices where.

"Let me walk you ok? Where's your cane?" Damian asks.

"Well Chloe was here with me earlier, so I had put it away in her purse. The class left me behind though, so I was just going to walk home," 

"Wait you're blind? You didn't have a cane earlier as well," Dick asks.

"Oh, that is literally nothing. People think I use it to seek attention," Marinette said. "Damian, can you help me find my hotel?"

"Yea, sure, umm... what hotel are you staying at?" Damian asks. "You can hold on to my arm if it would help you."

"Ok, thank you, I'm staying at Wayne Hotel," Marinette said, grabbing the crook of his elbow.

"See you later, you guys. Call me when you're down, I'll let Brucie know what's happening," Dick said his voice trailing off as they walk off in opposite directions. They walk in silence and when they get to the hotel Marinette squeezes his hand.

"Thanks for walking me, Damian," Marinette said, smiling while looking in where she thinks his face is.

"Bye Marinette, don't be left alone again, people aren't always as nice as me," He snickers. "Good night."

"Night, Dami," Marinette says. as the door opens.

"Marinette! I'm so happy you're ok!" Chloe said, hugging Marinette. She then smacked her arm. "Don't hang up on me again!"

"I'm fine Chloe," Marinette said.

"Thank you so much, Robin! I didn't know how she was going to get back without her cane," Chloe exclaimed. "What have I told you about talking to strangers, even heroes."

"Heroes?" Marinette mutters to herself. "I'm sorry Chloe. I didn't realize that I wouldn't be safe with one of Gotham's heroes."

"I'm messing, come on," Chloe says, grabbing Marinette's arm. "Night Robin."

"Ya night Robin," Marinette says confused. When Marinette gets to her and Chloe's room, she sits on the balcony with hopes of Da-- Robin dropping by. Not too long after she stood outside she heard someone land being her. "Chloe, I'm going to be writing, you can go to bed, I'll be in a bit later." She heard Chloe confirm. "So you're Damian and Robin."

"And you figured it with only meeting me three times, you figured out Grayson with only two times. You know you can't tell anyone," Robin said.

"Well I don't see the difference between you guys, I can only hear the similarities in your voices," Marinette explained. "I wouldn't tell anyone, I understand to have secrets."

"What do you mean?" Robin asks.

"Well for the past couple of years, there had been an akuma problem in Paris," Marinette said.

"What's an akuma and how were they a problem?"

"A villain named Hawkmoth terrorized the city by using their negative emotions against, a hero team named Ladybug and Chat Noir rose to meet the terrorist," Marinette sighed.

"How come no one had mentioned this?" Robin asks,  leaning on the railing beside her.

"Tourists weren't allowed to enter Paris as much and no international news was allowed to do reports. The mayor wanted to keep the whole thing under wraps and we didn't include the Justice League because we realized that people with extra training and sometimes powers would be too hard to take down," Marinette explained.

"What do you mean 'we'?" Robin asks, studying Marinette's face the moonlight highlighting her hair making it more blue than normal along with accenting her cheekbones. 

"My partner, Chat Noir, and I, well just me now," Marinette said, putting her head in hands. 

"You were Ladybug?" Robin asks in disbelief. "Not to sound rude, but how did you manage to do that with your condition."

"While being Ladybug, the magic let me see. They were the best times of my life besides the fact of Hawkmoth. But because of being Ladybug, I was able to see my parents' faces and see the beautiful world. All good things come to an end though, Master Fu took my earrings and Chat Noir's ring and ran away," Marinette accounted a tear slipping down her cheek. "Now I know what I'm missing out on, and there is almost nothing I wouldn't give to see again."

"Why are you telling me this?" Robin asks, looking out over the city.

"Because no one will believe you and I needed someone to talk to who would understand."

"What about Chat Noir?" 

"He's gone, his father killed him and there was nothing I could do," Marinette responding full-on tears streaming down her face now.

"Alfred told me the best way to comfort someone, who is distressed, is to hug them. Do you need a hug?" Robin said, standing up straight.

"Please, he promised he would have my back, but he left me here to deal with the aftermath of Hawkmoth and my class," Marinette said into his shoulder

"Does it have anything to do with your class leaving you behind?" Robin asks, rubbing small circles into her back.

"One girl turned them all against me Adrien tried to help me but her lies were just too convincing. They say I bully her and I lie about everything. They took my cane earlier because they didn't want me to draw attention to myself, that's why I ran into you earlier."

"I was rude earlier which was bad in my part especially since you fell," he said quietly.

"No it was my fault for running into you, I'm just happy we're both ok," Marinette smiled, breaking the hug. She leans against the railing again with Robin following not too long after.

"You said something about writing earlier, what was that about?" Robin asks.

"I write and sing songs," Marinette says.

"Any songs I would know?"

"I don't know, but I sing and write with my uncle Jagged a lot."

"Would you sing?" he whispers almost inaudibly.

"I haven't sung in front of many people, and Chloe is right you're still a stranger," Marinette says with a giggle.

"I bet you have a lovely voice," Robin says. "But you don't have to, I won't force you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."

"I will but give me a moment, I want you to be brutally honest because no matter how I love my family and friends they won't tell me if I'm bad," Marinette whispers. "I'm only going to sing the chorus I haven't figured out the rest." (not my song In My Head by the Bedroom. Highly recommend, underrated song.)

It consumes my mind

It consumes my soul

It wants my life it wants complete control

Somebody help me before it's bad

Somebody help me before I end up dead

I feel alone, all of the time

It's still quite, lurking inside

"I was right, the voice of an Angel," he says, breathlessly.

"Robin, time to go, have a good night Miss," Dick says, dropping onto the balcony.

"Night Damian, Dick," Marinette says, walking towards the door.

Now Dick and Damian stood on the rood of the hotel. "So you want to explain how she knows who both of our identities?" Dick asked his arms crossed across his chest.

"She recognizes our voices after her friend pointed out that I was Robin she put two and two together," Damian says uninterested.

"Besides knowing your name and that you are Robin, does she know that you are Damian Wayne," Dick asks. 

"No, I don't think she does," Damian answer. "Now that we're done gossiping, can we go back to the manor?"

"You gonna tell Brucie," Dick asks, standing.

"I mean it is kinda important," Damian shrugs before running in the direction of the manor.

At the end of the week at the gala, Marinette wore a floor-length off the shoulder red dress the skirt of the dress looks like a flower. She loved the feel of the smooth fabric, Chloe said that the color complimented her skin. She was sitting at a table with Chloe when she heard the almost familiar footstep of Damian. 

"Nice try Damian, I can tell you are there," Marinette smiled.

"Well, I wasn't trying to sneak up on you, because if I was trying you wouldn't have heard me," Damian says quietly."I was coming to see if you wanted to dance."

"That would be lovely, I'm not too good at dancing," Marinette says.

"I'll lead, I'll make sure that you are comfortable," Damian reassures.

"I trust you," Marinette says, letting herself be lead out to the middle of the floor. "So tell me more about you, all I know is that you have a night job. How old are you because you sound on the younger side to me."

"I'm about to turn twenty in the upcoming month," Damian says.

"I just turned eighteen. What do you want to do in the future?"

"I help run my father's company, I know you want to be a singer," Damian asks, spinning her.

"That's true. What company does your father run?"

"He owns and runs Wayne Enterprises."

"That means you're a Wayne? Is it your choice that you want to work at WE or is it being forced onto you?"

"It's my choice."

"Does it bring you happiness?"

"Yes," Damian says pressing his forehead to hers as the song ends.

"Then that's all that matters then," Marinette says,

"Oh my god! Dick wasn't lying!" A voice screams with fast-approaching footsteps following. Marinette turns to the voice's direction. "How'd you get someone so adorable?"

"Jason! I told you to-- he wasn't lying!?" another voice says, coming from the same direction.

"Marinette, meet my other two of my adopted brothers," Damian said. "The first one is Jason and the second one is Tim."

"We're numbers now? What happened to us being people?" Jason whines.

"You're bothering me," Damian said.

"Damian, be nice to your sibling, I bet they're lovely to have around," Marinette says, playfully smacking his arm.

"Well, then I would win that bet," Damian snickers.

"Well it's nice to meet someone that can stand being around Demon Spawn," Jason says.

"Are you guys dating? Dick said you guys were and that Damian calls you Angel," Tim asks.

"We're not dating," Damian says.

"He has not called me Angel, but he compared my singing voice to one," Marinette responds.

"I forgot to tell you that there was no way the Jagged was complimenting you to be nice. You have a heavenly voice," Damian says, kissing her hand.

"Jagged... like Jagged Stone, Jagged?" Tim asked, squeezing in between her and Damian.

"There are a lot of people with Jagged in the world, what makes you think I'm talking about Jagged Stone?" Marinette asks, speaking towards the spot where Tim had been standing.

"Well, is it him?" 

"Yes, it is him, but--" Marinette said now looking on Tim's direction. 

Tim screams. "Seriously! You're his prodigy?"

"More like his niece but prodigy works," Marinette explains.

"That's awesome, can I have an autograph?"

"I don't know when I'll see Uncle Jagged again, but--" Marinette starts.

"No from you, your voice is calming and helps me focus on my work," Tim says.

"Umm, sure!" 

"After she signs it, will you leave us alone?"

"Yes, we'll leave you two love birds alone," Jason said, grabbing Tim's arm.

"They seem nice," Marinette said. 

"They can be but they are a bit overbearing," Damian said, pulling her into another dance.

"It's nice to have people support you in their own unique ways," Marinette said. They dance in silence at one point Marinette almost falls Damian pull her close.

"You're adorable when you blush," Damian says, lifting her chin so he could get a good view of her face.

"That's not fair, I can't see if you're blushing," Marinette pouts. "Can I feel face?"

"Why?"

"You don't have to, but feeling is like seeing for me along with other blind people," Marinette said, quickly.

"Umm... do you want to go out to the garden so it's quieter?"

"Ummm ok," Marinette said, letting Damian take her to the garden. Damian leads her to the nearest bench. Marinette puts her hands in his. "I don't want to jab your face can you?" Before she finishes, he takes her hands and places them on his face. "Don't worry I recently washed my hands."  Damian chuckles. She runs her fingers over his jaw and cheekbone. "What color are your eyes?"

"Jade green, I also have black hair, and tan skin," Damian says.

"You're handsome... umm I mean you have strong facial features...?" Marinettes stutters.

"You're beautiful as well. Thank you, Angel," Damian says, kissing her forehead. “Will you come to dinner at the Manor tomorrow night?”

“That would be lovely, but I can’t be out too late, we are leaving the day after tomorrow,” Marinette said.

The next day leading up to dinner with the Waynes was uneventful besides some of Lila’s normal lies about Marinette and fabulous stories about her old famous friends that she ran into without anyone else around. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of seeing Damian again. Sure she had been less willing to let herself be open ever since Lila and the loss of Adrien, who had stood with her. 

She got dressed in a white tank crop top with a pink floral pattern, a high waisted skater skirt, and paired with white converse. Chloe helped her, obviously, she said that Marinette looked appropriately dressed. 

“Thanks, Chloe, I’m going to head downstairs. Damian said he would be here at 5:30,” Marinette said, hugging her. 

“Well it’s 5:25 you should hurry,” Chloe said pushing her out the door. 

“Oh crap! Bye Chloe!” Marinette said, rushing down the hall to the elevator. As she ran out of the elevator she heard the lobby doors open. 

“Marinette, did you just run down here? Where’s your cane?” Damian asks, approaching the girl. 

“Hey aren’t you the boy that danced with Marinette yesterday?” Lila’s voice came from what Marinette remembers to be the sitting area. 

“If I am, why does it matter to you?” Damian growls. 

“Because she’s a bully,” Alya’s voice came from near where she heard Lila. 

“I don’t what you’re talking about, she’s sweet, kind, even after I was rude to her and incredibly strong,” Damian said, taking Marinette’s hand. 

“She forgets her cane on purpose for attention,” Lila states. 

“No, from what I was told, you complained that her cane was bringing her too much attention. The cane is what helps her see,” Damian says. “Come on, Angel, Alfred is waiting.”

“Thanks, Dami,” Marinette says. As they get into the back of the car Marinette says. “You know you didn’t have to do that, they stopped affecting me months ago.”

“Just because I didn’t have to doesn’t mean I didn’t want to,” Damian says, kissing her hand. 

“Thank you Dami,” Marinette said, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks. 

“You’re adorable,” Damian said. 

“Now Master Damian, I know I raised you better than that,” Alfred said from the front. 

“Pennyworth, this is Marinette, Marinette this is Alfred our butler and unofficial official grandfather,” Damian said. 

“It’s nice to meet you Monsieur!” Marinette says enthusiastically. 

“Miss Marinette, if I may be so bold, where is your cane?” Alfred asks. 

“Ummm I didn’t realize you knew, but I ran out of the hotel room without it,” Marinette said. 

“Hey, Mari I don’t think I ever got your number. May I have it so we can stay in touch once you leave?” Damian asks, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Oh yeah!” Marinette says, taking out her phone. “Sorry I can text because they haven’t exactly made a smartphone for blind people yet.”

“We can skype,” Damian offers, putting his number in her phone. Before she recites her to him and he names her contact Angel. 

“Of course!” Marinette says as they pull up to the Manor. 

“There are seven steps coming up, I’ll let you know when there are left by squeezing your hand,” Damian says quietly, respecting her wishes to not use her cane. As they get close to the top, as Damian promised, he squeezed her hand. Alfred opened the door to reveal the rest of the Wayne family. 

“This is Marinette,” Damian says. “Marinette this is my family”

“My father, Dick, Tim, Jason, and you already met Alfred,” Damian said, pausing for each of them to say hi in between each introduction. 

“Well dinner is ready if you would like to follow me to the dining room,” Alfred said. 

“Alfred made Shepherd's Pie,” Damian said, pulling Marinette’s seat out for her. 

“That’s lovely, thank you for having me by the way Mr. Wayne,” Marinette said, picking up her fork. 

“It’s my pleasure, please call me Bruce,” he said. 

Dinner went on fine until Jason realized something, Marinette never looked directly at anyone she always looked slightly to the side or a bit above whoever was speaking. 

“Marinette, are you blind?” Jason asks. 

“Jason! That’s very rude,” Dick says. 

“No it’s a valid question, I am in fact blind,” Marinette said.

“You’re very independent,” Bruce notes.

“Well I don't like being seen just for my disability or for being weak because of my blindness,” Marinette explains.

“Angel, no one would think that,” Damian said. “You’re incredible.”

“Thanks, Dami.”

“So Marinette you know our identities, do you plan to keep them?” Tim says.

“Of course,” Marinette answered.

“She used to be a hero,” Damian said. “Ladybug, the hero of Paris.”

“I saw a video of a battle, how were you able to defeat the akuma?” Dick asks.

“Well, I used to have a kwami, her name is Tikki, she gave me sight while I was transformed,” Marinette explained. “But sadly, Master Fu took back my earrings along with Chat’s ring and disappeared.”

“How do we know you're telling the truth?” Jason asked, receiving a smack from Damian. “Hey! It’s a valid question!”

“I’ve seen the footage, they look the same,” Dick says.

“From what I’ve heard, I have scars up and down my back from the countless akuma attacks,” Marinette explained. “And because I was supposed to become the next guardian and I was the holder of the ladybug miraculi, I have with the Miraculi mark.” She then bent her leg to show the mark on her ankle. 

“Ms. Marinette speaks the truth, I have the mark of the peacock miraculi,” Alfred said.

“Adri-- Chat Noir had the same mark.”

“Before he went missing you mean,” Dick cuts in.

“Not missing, Gabriel, his father, and Hawkmoth, killed him before he realized it was his son,” Marinette explained.

The conversation moved into a brighter topic after that. When it was time to leave Damian decided to drive her back to her hotel. He walked her to the lobby. 

“Be my girlfriend?” Damian asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I would love to!” Marinette said, hugging him. She went up on tip-toes and kissed his cheek. “Bye Damian, I’ll count the minutes till I see you again.”

“I’ll see you off to the airport tomorrow,” Damian said, kissing the crown of her head.

(Sorry for the skips, I just wanna get to the part that the whole story has been building to.) Their relationship didn’t falter with distance after Marinette graduated, she moved to the states to attend Gotham Academy. Uncle Jagged promised her parent to check up on her him being in America for recording and shows. Not too long after they graduated college Marinette became a hit as Nettie. Damian proposed to her on the date of her debut. They got married on their fifth anniversary of dating. A year later they had their first son Thomas Adrien Wayne-Dupain. 

On Thomas’ second birthday, Damian prepared a surprise.  “Not too much longer Angel, just a couple more steps.”

“Today on the show we have Marinette Dupain-Cheng-Wayne or as most of you know her as Nettie,” the hostess says. “What most of you all don’t know is that she is blind. Nettie, will you give a wave to the crowd?”

She waves and whispers to Damian. “I might murder you, why are we here?”

Damian just chuckles, kisses her head, and says “Don't worry it’s about to get better.”

“So not too long ago, I reached out to Damian Wayne, her husband, to bring her onto the show so we can we have her reaction for a first time using E-Sight.” At that Marinette hugs Damian, and whispers graciously.

“So today is our son’s second birthday and I know it’s not a gift him, but it will be the first time she sees us for the first time,” Damian says.

“So we have an E-Sight technician here today to help her with the glasses, which she’ll be able to keep,” the hostess says.

 “So I’m going to slide this on your head,” the technician says, placing it over her eyes. “Can you give a look around for me? Can you see?”

“Yes! Yes! I can see,” Marinette exclaims, turning to look at the two most important people in her life. “You guys! You’re both as beautiful as I imagine.” Marinette cries, tears streaming down her face. 

“Come on, Angel, don’t cry,” Damian says, wiping her tears away before pulling her into a hug.

“Thomas, honey, you’re so cute…. I can’t believe it! I can see you both!” Marinette says, taking Thomas. “Hi honey, Mama can see you!”

“Nettie, we brought the rest of your family here so you can see them as well,” the hostess says, welcoming her family to the stage.

“Guys! Mama! Papa! You guys!” Marinette says, letting herself be enveloped in a hug.

“We’re so happy for you, Pixie-Pop!” 

She couldn’t be happier, she was happy before but now she can see the beauty of the world once again. She loved her family more than words can explain and now she didn’t have to just picture them, she can see them for real.

#marinette x batfam #maribat #batfam #ml salt fic #damian x marinette #lila salt #marinette x damian #alya salt #damian wayne #marinette dupain cheng #marinette deserves better #wifiwrites

[kurosawa-sun]

If You Read CM Fic, Please Read

Look I’m pretty tight with a lot of the writers in the Cherry Magic fandom and I also write a little bit. This is my PSA to say that it is incredibly rude for readers to leave comments on fics asking for updates on a fic that hasn’t been updated in awhile, ESPECIALLY on unrelated fic. A lot of writers I know have been having an extremely difficult time these past two months and struggling A LOT. You leaving a comment on a fic asking when another fic will be updated is incredibly insensitive. You are not entitled to the fics that people take time and energy to write FOR FREE! If you want more fic, write encouraging comments, let us know what you like about the fics we write. Don’t just come in the comments asking when the next update will be because that is very demotivating for a writer that is going through a serious slump, and the reason why updates are slow is because writers have ACTUAL LIVES TO DEAL WITH!

and another thing, don’t come into the comments arguing with the author about how they chose to interpret characters (like idk, Urabe being characterized positively). I’ve seen this shit happen on my friend’s fics and it boils my blood a great deal. Don’t like it, the back button is right there. I’ve certainly read a couple of fics that I personally can’t stand, but I would never leave a comment saying what I don’t like about it and that I disagree with the way they’ve chosen to characterize their character.

And as much as writers do write with an audience in mind, we mainly write for ourselves in the end. And if you want to read our stuff, that’s great too! The comments are strictly a place for support and if the author has asked for it in the notes, constructive criticism (and no, saying that a fic is too angsty is not constructive criticism, that’s just your personal taste and it doesn’t mean shit). Don’t try to argue with the author, don’t say that a fic is too angsty and don’t ask for updates in the comments. 

#cherry magic #cherry magic! thirty years of virginity can make you a wizard?! #adachi x kurosawa #adachi kiyoshi #kurosawa yuichi #jesus fucking christ do a bunch of people in the cm fandom need to learn basic commenting etiquette

[fortheloveoffanfic]

I saw all the talks about the delinquent season and I thought I made ask since no one really knows about this movie?? Anyway I didn’t like Orla (the waitress who ends up with Jim at the end) and idk if it’s just me but she’s extremely rude and even insensitive also she feels a bit toxic like that scene at the end after Jim had dinner with Yvonne (where literally nothing happened and it’s even implied that he told her he was with someone else) and she was just insulting him, not even trying to listen to what he was saying and idk it didn’t feel like a healthy, happy relationship and I felt a bit off about it but yeah maybe I’m just overreacting :/

No, you're not overreacting, at least in my opinion. I too didn't care for Orla, maybe if it had been written in a way that she and Jim started off disliking each other because of the incident at the restaurant (everyone has bad days) but had found commonality later on, then maybe it would have been better. But she was rude at the beginning, berated him after their one night stand and then seemed like a very insecure and toxic partner.

But, I understand why she reacted the way she did when Jim met with Yvonne. They had an affair, and maybe there was the worry that he still had feelings for her (Yvonne) and she (Orla) would somehow lose him. Does that make how she reacted okay? Definitely not. They seemed to have, like you said, a very toxic relationship, no doubt they'd break up at some point.

All in all, every one of the characters seemed flawed, and none of the relationships were perfect, which is one of the things I love about the movie, (and Cillian, of course). It was, at least in my opinion, a very authentic depiction of situations like that

#anon #I could write an essay about that movie lol

[obsidianfr3sk]

five valentine’s day that went wrong and one that (almost) didn’t

@queercreators event 02: romance — [ five valentine’s day that went wrong and one the (almost) didn’t ]      [ “Five Things” Fic ] “

dedicated to my dear Reneweys [ @nodrianbcyes @honey-hippie-harper​ @healing-winston-pratt @alecjamesartino @bluenoctuary-art @everyone-has-a-nightmare ] ♡

Summary: They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.Boy, he would like to see someone try.

AO3

Well, hello there!!! It’s been a while since the last time I posted something x’d I know I always say the same thing but it’s true skjdfhkjdfs I started this fic during the first week of febreary when I had this shot of adrenaline and started to do a lot of creative stuff, and originally I wanted to post this during Valentine’s Day, but... the shot of adrenaline passed x’d and let me to deal with this alone.

As you can see for the description, this a “Five Thing” fic. At first I wanted to post each chapter seperately, but idk, it seem a little bit... weird x’d so, here in Tumblr, the six chapters are all in one post. If you don’t like the format, but want to read the fic, you can find it on AO3! Don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you liked it:’)

Now... I’m not used to write happy sttuf in general x’d AND I’M LESS USED TO WRITE HAPPY STUFF ABOUT HUGH AND SIMON BECAUSE SKJDFHKJDSF the angst, dudes:))) but I think I did. Like... I actually wrote a fluffy fic:’) I’m so proud of myself dkjfhkfdshjk

Tag list: @the-lady-with-the-pen @chiyuki-hiro @all-weather-is-bad @styeenza

First try

Year 2

It was the second Valentine's Day after the beginning of the Age of Anarchy, and the capacity that the human being had to adapt themselves to the most terrible of conditions never ceased to amaze him. The economy had collapsed, the government had fallen, his school was practically one of the last ones still in open, and there was a “fucking junkie” ruling the city...

But the world celebrated Valentine's Day anyway.

Or at least in his class did.

The teacher had brought a bunch of cardboard boxes, that looked like she had fought with some tramps to get them (which she probably did, they were too many boxes for one person to generate) (unless she was a crazy person who collected boxes). She gave one to each one of her students, took out the last bottles of paint, pieces of colored cardboard, and rusty scissors, and then told them that today they were going to learn how to make a mailbox.

At first, Hugh had no idea what turning a box into a mailbox had to do with the curriculum the school was supposed to follow. It's not like people sent a lot of letters anyway. But when the girls got excited, he remembered that February 14 was something like an important date. And then, he remembered an activity that they did during his first year, when everyone decorated a box for their classmates to put letters and sweets in it.

First year… And now he was in his third year.

Time flies by.

After telling them which parts to cut into (Hugh had to share his scissors with other three classmates because there weren't enough for everyone), she invited them to pick the decorations they wanted to put on their mailboxes. The girls pounced on the pink, red, and even white paint, while most of the boys laughed, saying it was a stupid activity and they didn't want to do it. Hugh felt the urge to agree, but he didn't

He had already tried to make them like him. It hadn't worked for him.

So he grabbed a bottle of navy blue paint, some cartoon bear stickers, some notebook paper, and a bitten pencil. That would be enough to make his mailbox and his cards.

After a while, he started to have a good time. Crafts had never been his strong suit, but he was proud of how it ended up looking. One couldn’t tell his mailbox used to be a cereal box because the paint he used was so dark, that it only needed two coats of it and it dried much faster than Abernathy’s, who had practically finished the pink paint trying to hide the face of that missing child in the milk carton box the teacher gave to her. Hugh realized that she was holding her tears back, and as the good classmate that he was, he told her not to worry, that the missing child could be decoration if she painted him a mustache or something, and it would look very funny. Abernathy, far from finding it funny, acted super offended, assuring she had never met a child as rude and insensitive as Hugh Everhart, and she ran out of the classroom, hiding her face in her hands and screaming like a baby.

Unfortunately, the rest of his class agreed with her, and when it came time to deliver the cards, Hugh did not receive a single one. Although he doubted it had anything to do with that missing boy thing.

They wouldn't have given him anything anyway.

He wasn't sure if they knew he was a prodigy. Maybe they had noticed that it wasn't normal that Hugh had practically broken a chair in two when he placed his backpack on it to get something out, or that he had left the PE teacher unconscious when he accidentally threw a ball at his face while they were playing soccer. The teachers, if they noticed, didn't say anything. After all, that school was supposed to be only for normal kids.

Not prodigies. 

But children could be very insightful. Most likely, they did notice and therefore did not want to be associate with him.

Or maybe— 

Maybe they just didn't want to hang out with Hugh, because of… that.

Because he was Hugh.

He decided to wait for everyone else to leave before starting to cry (or before breaking another chair, whichever came first). Or at least that was what he was about to do when he heard that someone had come up with the same idea as him and started crying first. 

Simon Westwood had never been too talkative. Even before his older sister and mother died, he liked to sit at the last table, not speaking to anyone, and some older kids were constantly picking on him, without any teacher trying to do anything to stop them.

Not that Hugh was paying much attention to him or something.

The teacher practically ran to see what was going on with Simon Westwood, asking him what happened and why hadn’t he finished decorating his mailbox. Simon Westwood tried to explain it to her, but he was mumbling his words so neither the teacher nor Hugh could understand what he was saying. 

Hugh didn’t get mad with him though. His mom had died. His sister died too, a couple of weeks later. He wouldn’t be in the mood for doing cheesy crafts if the same had happened to him. But the teacher wasn’t as benevolent as him, and started to say things like she was trying really hard to bring joy to her students, and that she was sure that if he tried a little bit harder, he would be able to enjoy Valentine’s Day, like the rest of them. 

“Let’s see what nice things your classmates have said about you,” she exclaimed. But that only made Simon Westwood start crying again.

No one had given him a card. 

Like… no one.

And Hugh was listening to all of this conversation, just sitting there, trying to stay as stiff as he could so they wouldn’t notice he was there (as if he weren’t literally right in front of them). Seeing Simon cried like that made him think that maybe he was just acting though when the other kids laugh at him because of his looks, his ratty old clothes (older and rattier than theirs), or just—

His mind exploded. 

He suddenly understood why the other kids didn't like Simon Westwood. It was before he was him.

Just like how they didn’t like Hugh Everhart because he was Hugh Everhart. 

When the teacher went out of the classroom with Simon, saying something about calling his dad (although he knew they wouldn’t be able to do that, since no one had a functioning phone those days), he took one of the cards he did for his classmates, cards that he never gave to them, and put one inside Simon Westwood’s mailbox/cereal box. He had left his backpack and his things there. When he came back to take them home, he would see the card too.

A voice in his head told him to get out of there before he came back, but another one told him to stay. Maybe Simon Westwood and he could be friends. Maybe he would understand what it felt like to be hated just for the way you were born. Maybe he was a prodigy too. 

Or maybe he wasn’t.

He couldn’t take that chance. 

So Hugh went home, but promised Simon Westwood (and himself) he would keep an eye on him. 

After all, friends were there to have each other’s back. 

Because they were friends, even if Simon didn't know it yet.

Second try

Year 9

They were friends. 

He had never seen Hugh before meeting him on that alley where Simon got his powers. Like— he had seen him because he was in the same class as him, but he hadn't really seen him. During his childhood years, Simon was more focused on other things. Like being a little depressed and anxious ball with skinny legs and skinny arms, for example.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t depressed or anxious now. Nor it was he had gotten super muscular all of the sudden, like Hugh (he had always been bigger than the other kids, but he practically turned twelve and already looked like a teenager, except for the voice and the face). 

But at that moment, he wasn’t depressed or anxious. He felt weirdly at peace. 

He and Hugh were walking down the street, thinking about which store were they going to rob that day to get dinner for them and their families, when Simon noticed a couple holding hands in front of an abandoned café. She had dark hair and he had blue eyes, which looked at his girlfriend as if she was the Virgin Mary or something. Then, she kissed him and gave him a small blue flower and a heart-shaped card. The guy looked so moved by the gesture that he kissed her on the lips again, with so much more passion than before. 

Simon looked away before they realized he was looking at them, not only because he didn’t want to come off as creepy, but also because he knew how awkward he would feel if they started to make out or something. 

“Love is in the air,” Hugh sang.

Simon chuckled. “You noticed them too?”

“I noticed them when she gave him the flower,” he told him. “I had never seen a girl giving flowers to a guy before.”

“Times have changed, I guess. That’s why they don’t feel uncomfortable giving such public displays of affection. Kids in our day weren’t like that.”

“I know, right?” said Hugh continuing with the joke. “They are so perverted. There are children present, for God’s sake.”

Simon chuckled again and Hugh stopped to tie his shoe. While he was there, Simon noticed he was throwing glances at them. 

“You know, giving them the death stare isn’t gonna prevent them from being in love,” Simon told him.

“I can try,” Hugh joked. Then, he shook his head. “It’s not that. I just—”

He waited for him a couple of seconds before asking, “Just what?”

He finally answered, “Someday we’ll have something like that.”

Simon frowned. “Huh?”

“You know,” Hugh mumbled. “We’ll have girlfriends and— and all of that.”

“Oh!” Simon exclaimed. “Yeah, someday, yeah.”

But before Simon could keep talking about it (or just develop some opinion on the topic) Hugh shrugged and urged him to keep walking. “I guess. I didn’t even remember today was Valentine’s Day though. They were my reminder—” he turned around and waved at them “—Thank you, exhibitionists, you reminded me what day is it!”

Now, Hugh probably didn’t mean for them to hear him say that. Simon knew him well enough to know Hugh thought he wasn’t being loud, but the thing was… Hugh was always loud. He could be “whispering” and the whole neighborhood would hear him ask Simon if he knew how bars with strippers worked because he did know, and wanted to brag about it. Then, Simon would feel embarrassed, because, in fact, he didn’t know how bars with strippers work.

Simon immediately turned around and realized the girl was looking at them with an expression he couldn’t read. He turned invisible and pushed Hugh inside of an alley, hoping those trashcans hid them well enough in case the guy turned out to be a freaking animal and wanted to kick their flat asses for calling them exhibitionists. 

Simon felt the anxiety kicking in, when Hugh started laughing so loud, that said anxiety turn into the need of punching him really hard on the arm.

So he did it. Multiple times.

“Dude, dude, shut the fuck up, dude,” Simon said keeping his voice low (because he could keep his voice down, unlike others), “that guy’s gonna kick our asses, for real. Dudeeee—”

But his voice kinda cracked when he said that “Dudeee—” and that made Hugh laugh even more, so Simon kept punching him, using a vocabulary that would make the most dangerous of gangster blush. And he probably would have kept hitting him, if the anxiety of being discovered hadn't been overshadowed by how weird it made him feel to see his best friend laugh.

When Hugh laughed, his cheeks would turn red and his eyes would water. They could be in the most embarrassing situation ever, one where no one was laughing, and if he found it funny, he was going to do it, because he wasn't going to be able to help it. And it wasn't like Simon would stop him, either. Not at all. He liked it when he laughed. 

Even though he ended up making him laugh too. Like at that moment.

Most of the garbage ended up in the drains, the sidewalk, or anywhere else except where it belonged, the trash can. Generally, Hugh always refused when someone hinted at sitting on the floor, precisely for that reason. However, on that occasion, the two were sitting in that stinking alley, throwing pebbles at each other, playing with some bottle caps they found on the ground, and arguing about who would win a bare-handed fight, Wonder Man or Phantom Feline.

They decided it was time to go home when a cat-sized rat appeared out of nowhere, and the two of them came out screaming like idiots, even faster than they would have run if that guy with the girlfriend would have chased them. They ran until they reached Simon's house, all sweaty and tired, their hands on their bent knees and breathing heavily.

Then Hugh laughed again. And his cheeks were flushed again, and his eyes were watery again, and he made Simon laugh again until Mr. Westwood came home from work and told him to go inside, that it was too late to be outside.

Once he was locked in his room, with his younger sister playing in the living room and his father in the kitchen, the image of that guy kissing his girlfriend did not make him feel anything. So, he tried to imagine kissing a lot of girls that he considered a thousand times more attractive, but just when it seemed that the idea was beginning to be something desirable, Hugh came back, with his laugh, his screams, and his eyes, like one of those freaking trains that he dreamed of having the opportunity to stop one day and that never missed a single chance to tell Simon all about it. 

The truth was that Simon did believe that Hugh might be able to stop a train with his bare hands, but he doubted he would be able to stop the train of thought that Simon hopped on whenever he thought of him. And he was so ashamed to know that not even the strongest prodigy on the planet was capable of doing that, that he decided to take those memories from the collar of the old blue hoodie that each one of them wore and bury them alive in the backyard of his memory.

Forever and ever.

Thrid try

Year 12

Two months ago, after their first date, Simon told Hugh he would never plan another important date, forever and ever. But now, Simon had let him plan their first Valentine's Day together without putting any objections, proving that he trusted him. And he was happy for him; Simon had always had problems when it came to trusting other people. It was nice to see the other grow to become a better person. 

And it was even nicer when you were no longer only friends, but a couple. 

So yeah, he wanted to make Valentine's Day special. It was kind of a big deal. 

Georgia and Tamaya brainstormed with him places he could take Simon to. They all agreed that it had to be a place safe enough and that it wouldn't put them in a situation where they had to reveal their powers, and by consequence, their secret identities. But then, everything started going downhill, especially because Georgia had some very odd ideas (like something about flowers, a choreographed dance, and poetry) and Tamaya was as romantic as a rock (“Just don't end up nearly killing yourself in front of him, that should be enough.”)

It was February 13th, and Hugh was on his cot, a bit angry at Georgia and Tamaya, not only because they couldn't help him on such an important mission as they promised, but also because they blamed him for their failure, telling him that he "had no imagination" and that he "thought with his dick", just because he thought all their ideas were horrible. 

Maybe he should have phrased that better... 

Simon and Evander slept on the bunk bed Simon used to share with his younger sister. Simon was taking a shower, so he was all alone with Evander and Kasumi, who sometimes went there to visit her best friend, even if Tamaya told her not to do it because it smelled horrible in there and she would bring the odor to the girl’s bedroom (Hugh thought the room didn't smell bad at all, and if it did, it was because Evander acted like he was living in the street yesterday and had no sense of personal hygiene). But Kasumi didn’t seem to mind, and she spent most of her afternoons cuddling with Evander on the top bunk, while she read an old book and Evander read one of Simon’s comics (because Hugh would join the Anarchists before letting Evander touch his comics).

They started whispering at each other about who knows what, and even though he kind of wanted to know what they were talking about, he was just too tired, so he decided to put a pillow on his face and try to fall asleep. But then, he heard, quite clearly, that they said his name. 

And he couldn’t let slip that. 

He pulled the pillow off his face, and said, “What are you saying about me?”

They both peered over the edge of the bunk. “We were talking about how you're not good at romance,” Evander replied.

The audacity of that b— boy.

“You are eleven years old," he told him. “What are you going to know about romance?”

“No more than you,” Kasumi acknowledged, very solemnly.

Hugh made his “See?” face and he looked away.

Then, Evander asked, “Why don’t you take him to Cosmopolis Park?”

Oh, stars. He couldn’t be serious.

Cosmopolis Park.

A freaking theme park. 

Evander was eleven, all right. His idea of a date was probably something out of a princess movie he and Kasumi watched from time to time (sometimes Tamaya joined them too and she always acted like she was just watching it to make fun of it, even though everyone in the house knew she had a weird soft spot for cheesy princess movies). But Hugh was technically an adult now. He should know better, and knowing better was not taking your boyfriend to a theme park for Valentine’s Day. That wasn’t very romantic.

“What a stupid idea.”

Kasumi got red all of the sudden. For the look at Evander’s face, Hugh knew he had fucked up even before she said, “It was my idea…”

“Oh— no, Zoomie, I… what I meant was that—”

“Don’t fix it, bro,” Evander interrupted him. “You’re gonna make me want to punch you more.”

He wasn’t afraid of Evander punching him because he couldn’t compare a kid’s strength to his, but he obeyed him and mumbled a small, “Sorry.”

The “sorry” was for Kasumi though, not for Evander. If Kasumi hadn’t been there, he probably would have told Evander something like “Oh, yeah? You’re gonna punch me, little punk? Come on, punch me, don’t be a pussy” (and then Georgia would have stormed into the room, telling him not to use the word “pussy”, and they would have pointed at each other saying “He started it!”)

After giving him a goodnight kiss, Kasumi got off Evander’s bed, with the book under her arm. Before leaving the room, she knelt beside Hugh to kiss him goodnight, as to show his comment didn’t cause her to feel any kind of resentment towards him.

Because of course it didn’t. Kasumi was like that.

“I was just saying— Valentine’s Day is also a day to be with friends,” she whispered. “And you and Simon are not only boyfriends but also... you know, friends. I bet that wherever you take him, it'd be magical for both of you. Because you find magic in each other's company, even before you knew you were in love. So... why not?”

She turned off the lights on her way out.

He never thought Kasumi’s tendency to romanticize everything was odd or weird. It was something that he expected from a teenage girl, especially one who has such a vivid imagination. But he also never expected that imagination would help him in some way. And he never expected for her to say the exact words he wanted to hear, even before he knew he wanted to hear them.

She was so wise.

Cosmopolis Park didn’t sound like a bad idea anymore when Simon entered just after Kasumi, wearing his pajamas, and asked him with a teasing voice, “So… where are you gonna take me tomorrow?”

Hugh didn’t know if Evander was already asleep, so he just smiled at him and told him it was a surprise. Simon rolled his eyes and gave him a soft kiss on the nose before getting into his own bed. 

It was his way of telling him he trusted him. And relationships were supposed to be built upon trust. He didn't need anyone to tell him that.

As far as he knew, Simon hadn't been to Cosmopolis Park in years, probably before the Age of Anarchy began. It was no secret that the park was currently full of gangs and drug addicts but it was still a relatively peaceful place. At least peaceful enough that the park was full of families, groups of friends, and tons of couples.

Although there weren’t any couples...

Well, there weren’t any couples like them.

He wondered if Simon noticed that small detail too, but when he turned to ask him that, he knew it would be better if he just kept his comments to himself. Because he wasn't an expert reading other people's emotions, but Simon...

Simon looked so happy at the moment.

The two walked side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other's, but their hands tucked deep into their pockets. Hugh was trying to keep his eyes fixed forward to avoid bumping into anyone, but the small chuckles Simon let out every time he saw something that surprised him, made said task impossible. Suddenly, he no longer wanted to avoid the embarrassment that would cause him to bother someone by bumping into them; he wanted to look at him.

He wanted to look at him trying to hide his laughter by covering his mouth with his hand, as if he wanted to suppress some kind of dark feeling, without realizing that his joy was so full of light that it was practically impossible. He wanted to continue to see how his dark eyes, with very long lashes and deep bags under the eyes, perfectly captured the lights of the Ferris wheel and the food trucks. He wanted to see the tiny smile he had the entire time they were at the park because even if Simon didn't smile like that very often, when he did, Hugh felt as if he was witnessing the most wonderful of miracles.

Hugh took his hands out of his pocket, and when he turned his attention back to Simon, he was looking at him too. They stopped in their tracks, not caring that people passed around them, sometimes unintentionally pushing them a bit or stepping on their shoelaces. 

Hugh took a step forward and Simon did too. 

Then Simon pulled a hand out of his grey jacket's pocket, making him wonder if he was dreaming or if it was really going to happen.

Hugh held his breath and felt the blood rush to his face, along with the overwhelming feeling that everyone around him was staring at them, with the newly acquired gift of recognizing those two faces that always hid behind pair of colorful masks and now were gazing at each other with true devotion. He desperately wanted to know what was going through their heads, he wanted to know if they still considered them worthy of their admiration and respect, and he wanted to know if he had been right when he assured Simon that, someday, the two of them would hold each other in public without thinking it twice.

But then, just as Simon's fingers brushed his cheek, his attention was completely diverted to someone behind Hugh.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked awkwardly.

Hugh turned to see who his boyfriend was talking to. He was a slightly older man, juggling three balls and standing on the table of his own stand. He was smiling at Simon and he had a mustache that quite frankly made him look like a ridiculous comic villain.

“Yes, you!” and he threw a ball at Simon.

Simon covered his face with his hands, but Hugh caught the ball before it hit him.

Who did this guys think he was?

The guy, far from mocking Simon's reaction, seemed intrigued. “Do you want to win a prize, big guy?” he asked Hugh.

Hugh was ready to say no to him in the kindest way he could, when the guy pulled out a laundry basket, like the one Georgia put on his head every Sunday, saying "Laundry time!" in a voice so high that made birds explode. 

“You just have to throw that ball you have in your hand—” he raised the basket “—here. And you can win a prize.”

He finally gave him a chance to reply. “No, thank you, we’re fine.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets again and told Simon to keep going. But the guy did not give up.

“I see,” he crooned from afar. “Your dad didn't play ball with you and that's why you don't think you're capable of throwing it correctly. It’s fine.”

Simon put his hand to his mouth as if thinking "Oh, stars, he did not."

And Hugh looked at him as if thinking "Oh, but he did."

If that guy knew who he was talking to, he would probably think it twice before making comments to strangers mocking their lack of a father figure.

So he turned abruptly and threw the ball into the basket.

If Hugh had been a little calmer, he probably would have been able to remember that, before leaving the house, Tamaya had told him that theme parks were full of games that had the sole purpose of scamming people and that one of them was that game in particular. The balls bounced so much that even if they made contact with the bottom of the basket they would jump back to whoever threw it, making them technically lose.

He would also have listened to himself, to Hugh, who told him that it would be best to turn around and get on with their lives, and not to Captain Chromium, who was determined to win that freaking game because he won every single game the world put in his way. 

After three balls, the guy turned to Simon, extended his hand at him, and told him, “It's fifteen dollars.”

That was enough to make him lose his mind. Hugh told him that it was not worth arguing with him, but Captain Chromium did not tolerate that people tried to take advantage of him, and he spent about ten minutes screaming with the mustachioed man, until Simon panicked (or lost his mind), grabbed one of the balls and threw it right in the man’s eye.

Then, he did take Hugh by the hand.

But just to be sure they both got out of there before someone tried to stop them.

They ended the evening at a hamburger stand several blocks away from Cosmopolis Park (because obviously, they weren't going to stay there after the show they had put on). They did not have enough money to buy two sodas, but they bought a strawberry juice carton to share and sat on the sidewalk to eat their hamburgers of doubtful provenance, ranting against the man, against the park, and, especially, against those damn balls.

“I can't believe there are people like him breathing the same oxygen I breathe,” Simon commented, before taking a bite out of his burger ravenously. “He had no right to make that joke.”

But Hugh was so distracted by how attractive Simon looked when he bit his hamburger like that all he could say was:

“If my dad knew I couldn't win that stupid game, he would abandon me again.”

Simon frowned a little bit, repeating the sentence in his head until he finally understood the joke, and laughed so hard he began to choke with his food. Hugh started to panic and told Simon he would give him five back blows like he read he should do when someone started to choke. That was enough for Simon to spit his food on a napkin. Both were so grossed out by it, that they started laughing again. Simon hid his face on Hugh's shoulder, practically using his fit of laughter as an excuse to snuggle against him, and Hugh used his own angriness as an excuse to stay right there, telling the entire world to go to hell, and willing to keep doing it forever, just as long as the conversation didn't end and they had to go home. 

Georgia and Tamaya would kill them. It was already late at night. 

Fourth try

Year 17

It was already late night when they arrived at the motel.

Simon had stayed invisible the entire time they were at the reception like he always did when they had one of those more… private nights out. Hugh was the one who was in charge of booking the room because Simon got too anxious anyway at the mere idea of ​​having to interact with one of the receptionists.

It was one thing for his entire family (or the Council, as they had been calling themselves lately, as a joke) to know that tonight he was going to have sex. Strangers knowing it was a completely different thing.

He still wasn't quite sure which one was more embarrassing, but yeah. It was different.

He only became visible again when Hugh closed the door behind him.

Simon looked at the huge sports bag that Hugh carried with him. “What you got there?”

“Nothing important,” he assured with a shrug. He was smiling like he was a kid getting a bunch of presents at Christmas, and Simon was extremely happy too, so, without asking any more questions, he kissed him on the lips and went to the bathroom to give both of them time to get ready.

Not that they hadn't done that before. They didn't like having such intimate moments in the house. And even if they had wanted to, it was practically impossible to have even a minute of privacy there. The last time he had slept in a room by himself had probably been… never. And the number of occasions someone had opened the bathroom door while he was there were more than he could count. The door lock had been broken for a few weeks but nobody knew how to solve the problem because they had no idea how doors worked. Georgia had tried to implement a serious policy of knocking before entering any room with the door closed, but the only one who paid attention to her was Adrian because the rest of them were simply too used to walk around the house as if they were in their own houses. (That they were their house, but it was more Simon's house than theirs.)

In fact, it was the first time in forever that he was in a bathroom and he didn't have to put his hand on the door, to stop whoever tried to open the door before they ended up seeing him in the most vulnerable of positions, so Simon took off his T-shirt, his jeans, and sat on the toilet, wearing his underwear and his jacket, trying to enjoy his first moment of privacy in a long time.

At least until his legs started to feel cold and Hugh told him that he could go out now.

When he came out of the room, Hugh, who was lying on the bed, widened his eyes. Simon was already ready to hear a flattering comment, but instead, he frowned and asked, “Are you going to leave your socks on?”

Simon looked at his feet automatically. He had indeed left his socks on.

He didn't see anything wrong with it.

“The carpet is filthy,” he replied. “I don't want to get fungus or something like that.”

Hugh found no fault with his logic. “Okay, but take them off when you get on the bed,” he asked.

Then Simon realized that Hugh, not only never stopped doing that ridiculous pose that pretended to be sexy throughout the entire conversation, but he also had thrown out the (probably dirty) bedsheets from the motel bed and put instead one of the blankets they took out of the closet to cover themselves during winter.

So that's what he carried in his sports backpack.

Hugh seemed to realize that Simon was looking at the blanket and not at him, because he immediately said, “Oh, I hate motel bedsheets.”

Simon couldn't help but laugh. “You hate them?”

Hugh finally stopped doing that ridiculous pose and sat down. “You just never know who sleep in them before us, Simon,” he replied, “and you never know when was the last time they washed them. Maybe they— ” he pointed to the pile of blankets thrown away “—are covered on the… bodily fluids of twenty other people, and you want me to lie on them? Is that how you want us to make love? Like animals?”

Simon kept laughing, but Hugh wasn’t laughing. “Simon, stop it!” he exclaimed. “A new class of bacteria could be there, ‘cause— oh, I am convinced that those things have a new kind of bacteria no one has discovered yet, and— ”

And he went silent when Simon put his hands on his shoulders, still with a smile on his lips.

“What?”

“Hugh, have I ever told you I think you're really sexy when you out crazy me?” Simon asked, running his fingers through his hair.

Hugh stood still, looking directly into his eyes. “No, I think you haven’t.”

Simon shrugged. “Well— I think you're really, really, sexy when you out crazy me.”

“Well, I think… I think—“

Hugh could no longer continue his sentence. Even though Simon wasn't doing anything to stop him from speaking.

He was literally just standing in front of him, one knee leaning on the mattress and one hand on Hugh's head.

“You think?” he asked him. “That’s new.”

“Simon, wait, I'm trying to seduce you,” Hugh said.

Simon took a step back, pointing to the bathroom door. “I think I’d wait over there.”

“No, wait—” he gently grabbed his wrist before he could move further away “—I’m starting to… Let me think of something.”

Simon chuckled. He put his knee on the mattress again and Hugh grabbed him around his waist, pulling him close to him and resting his head on his chest, while Simon rested his chin on his head. He had just taken a bath when they came out of the house, so Hugh’s hair smelled of him and lemon zest because they have been using dish soap as shampoo the last week.

That was the kind of privacy that they sometimes lacked at home. He was no longer talking about sex. Simon craved to have him like this, so close to him. Both in their underwear, both in a practically unknown place, and both completely vulnerable, but together. Feeling at home, even if technically they weren't.

Because Hugh was his home.

He was sure he saw him that way too.

Simon was so focused on trying to capture that moment in his memory so that he could repeat it over and over again for the rest of his life, that he was totally thrown when Hugh blurted out:

“I think you have a nice dick, dude.”

Simon broke the hug ... “What?”

Hugh’s cheeks turned even redder. “Tell me I didn't say that.”

He put a hand up to try to hide his laughter. “No, I think you did.”

He still couldn’t believe that was Hugh’s best try to seduce him. And apparently, Hugh couldn't believe it either.

“Then— forget about it,” he stammered. “Let's all of us forget about it.”

Simon realized that he tried to grab him by the waist again, but he moved away just in time, pretending to be extremely offended. “So I don't have a nice dick.”

“Let's just stop saying the word dick, please.”

“You started it.”

“I PANICKED, ALL RIGHT?”

“PANICKING IS MY JOB!”

“I’M TAKING YOUR JOB THEN. AND I’M GONNA STEAL YOUR BOYFRIEND TOO IF YOU KEEP LAUGHING!”

Simon didn't try to pretend that he wasn't laughing, because he was more than aware that it was already too obvious at this point. 

So he decided it was better to play along.

“No, don't take my boyfriend!” he exclaimed dramatically, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Take me instead.”

Hugh took him by the waist and pulled him close. Simon didn't try to walk away this time. “Deal.”

But when Simon was about to start kissing him, he diverted his attention from Hugh for a split second, making him realize the curtains were wide open. “Oh, shoot, wait— the curtains.”

Luckily he hadn’t taken off his socks yet.

With quick steps, he headed to the window. He put a hand on each curtain and was about to close it completely when the lights of a car approaching from the end of the street caught his attention. It was a yellow sports car that looked more like a ripe banana than a vehicle.

Shit.

It stopped a few feet past the motel they were at. Out of it came a short man, with scars on his face and thin hair, and a tall blonde woman in a yellow dress, very inappropriate for the occasion. Not because it was provocative thought. It’s just that no one would wear such an expensive-looking dress in such a dangerous neighborhood unless they wanted to be robbed.

Or that they had enough status not to be.

Simon turned to see Hugh. “Hey—” Hugh looked up slightly. “—Come here.”

Hugh obeyed, a little bit confused, after putting his socks on (obviously). Simon had closed the curtains just enough for them not to be noticed but also not so much that they couldn’t see what was happening on the street.

Hugh gasped. “Are those—“

Simon swallowed hard. “Cyanide and Queen Bee in person.”

“What are they doing here?” 

Simon had as much an idea of ​​what Queen Bee and Cyanide were doing there as Hugh had, but he responded with the first thing that came to his mind anyway.

“Probably celebrating Valentine's Day,” he replied. “What a shitty place to take your girlfriend during Valentine’s Day though.”

At least take her to a motel. Like I did with Hugh.

“Do you think Queen Bee and Cyanide are together?” Hugh asked Simon.

Simon shrugged. “I don't know, but I know Queen Bee has a thing for Ace Anarchy.”

He had the slight hope that Hugh would take the bait and give him a chance to discuss his theories about Queen Bee's fixation with Ace Anarchy (which he always talked about with Tamaya), but Hugh, despite being very nosy, just kept quiet, watching Queen Bee and Cyanide argue outside the car.

How could that woman walk in such big heels?

“Or maybe Cyanide is the one who has a thing for Ace Anarchy,” Hugh blurted out suddenly.

Simon turned to see him. “Wait, really?”

“Don't be so heteronormative, Simon,” he scolded him. “Plus, I've never been in the cathedral, but I bet that when you enter there, it reeks homosexuality.”

“Dude—”

“I just know.”

And they kept watching. 

There was something very personal about seeing two people arguing from a distance, like old ladies peering out of their home windows whenever the neighbors had a particularly loud fight. Simon almost considered it romantic.

Then, Queen Bee tried to turn around to turn her back on Cyanide, but something went wrong with her heel and she went face first towards the sidewalk, letting out a scream that could make someone think she was being murdered, and causing Cyanide (and the two of them) to laugh out loud.

How could that woman walk with those heels? Well, apparently, she couldn't.

The tension he felt when Cyanide interrupted his laughter and turned around as if he knew someone was watching them, made him remember that they were not gossiping old ladies peeking out of the window of their house and that those two were not some neighbors having a little fight. No, they were Dread Warden and Captain Chromium, stuffed into a hotel room like they were fugitives from the law or something, and those two little people in the middle of the street were two of the most feared and powerful villains in the world.

There was nothing romantic about that.

So Simon immediately closed the curtains. 

But now neither of them was in the mood to have sex anymore, really.

“We should do something.”

“I'm on it.”

Hugh was already crouched slightly by the bedside, pulling his unmistakable superhero suits out of his sports bag.

Simon was so puzzled that he couldn't even stop to enjoy the… image that Hugh was inadvertently giving him by bending down like that.

“Wait, did you actually bring our supersuits to our date?” he asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied without looking up.

Who knows what kind of demon got into Simon at the time, but a not very family-friendly thought crossed his mind, and that thought was the one that made him ask, “Why?”

Hugh, completely unaware of what he was thinking, handed Simon his clothes and dropped the two pairs of boots on the floor as he sat in the bed. 

Only the stars knew how he had managed to fit a blanket, their shoes, and their suits in that sports backpack.

“Because I thought something like this was gonna happen,” he explained while putting on his leggings. “You know, crime doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day the same way we do.”

Oh.

The little not very family-friendly thought hadn't been right then.

Simon felt a bit sick admitting that he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Oh. I thought...”

Hugh looked at him, intrigued, and a second later, he understood what Simon was thinking. “Oh, stars, no. I was not thinking about that.”

“All right then.”

Now it was Hugh's turn to watch him change. Simon knew that was what he was doing.

Because he knew his look better than he knew anyone else's.

When he was fully dressed, Simon reached out to reach for his shoes, and Hugh put his own hand over his', to get his attention.

He already had the mask on, but he could see that he had turned red. If Simon had been white too, he probably would be redder than him. 

He swallowed. “Unless— unless you're into it?”

Simon swallowed too. But he didn’t plan to answer him right now.

It had been hard enough to put on their suits. They didn’t need to start taking them off. 

So he pulled his hand away and started putting on his shoes.

“Hugh, the villains—” he reminded him.

“Right, right.” Hugh brushed off his knees. “The villains. That’s important.”

After making sure the door had the lock on (and that said lock worked), they turned off the lights, Simon turned invisible, and Hugh climbed onto the roof, pushing himself off the window frame as fast as possible so that Queen Bee and Cyanide, who were turning their backs on them, standing in front of the door of an apparently abandoned building as if waiting for someone, did not see him. Afterward, Simon followed him, assuring him that he could climb on his own.

The two remained hiding behind the building's water tank. Well, Hugh was behind the building's water tank, and Simon was in plain sight, invisible, with his hood on and his cape fluttering behind him, making him feel…

He wanted to say that it made him feel heroic, but the truth was that Simon also felt very sexy when he got into this mysterious and threatening mode. 

Simon turned his hand visible and pointed at them as if to say "Are we going or what?"

Hugh turned to see them with a frown, analyzing the situation. But when Simon was about to ask him what they were waiting for, Hugh turned to see him, with the same smile he had on his face when he was about to let the world know the coolest plan of all the plans, completely ignorant that in reality, it was the dumbest thing he had ever came up with.

“Wait, I have an idea.”

And in that situation, Simon had to take the role of being the one to tell him that his idea was bullshit and that it wasn't going to work, but he used to listen to his idea before expressing his comments about it. Not only because he didn't like talking without knowing all the facts first, but because may he could go to Tamaya the next day and tell her what had happened in the last episode of Hugh Had an Idea And It Went Wrong.

(They also enjoy episodes of Evander Acted Like An Animal Again and Queen, Realize That Junkie Doesn’t Care About You, Please.)

“Do you remember that song Evander used to sing to us?” he asked him.

Oh, Simon remembered it and cringed every time he thought about it.

But the cringe wasn't enough to stop him from singing the song.

“The Warden and the Captain are sitting in a tree—”

Hugh cringed too. “That one, yes. Stars, I hate it so much—” and he pointed to Queen Bee and Cyanide “—Let's make them hate it too. ”

Simon seriously tried to take his role as the voice of reason in that situation. He let his imagination (or rather, his anxiety) run wild, making him imagine the thousand and one scenarios in which that specific fight could turn out worse than they usually did if Hugh made that comment. Queen Bee would probably call Hugh a "lesbian" (“You have a lesbian haircut, honeybun, accept it”), Cyanide would go crazy trying to find Dread Warden to melt his skin slowly and painfully, everyone would wish death upon everyone, and the only reason the fight would end would be because either Cyanide would finally manage to injure Simon or because Queen Bee’s stilettos would break.

He didn't see how teasing them with an attack worthy of elementary school kids would make the situation worst.

Besides… it was going to be hilarious to see that.

He didn't see why he couldn't co-star in Hugh Had Idea and It Went Wrong.

“I'm in,” he replied, trying not to raise his voice too much. “I'm super in.”

Hugh rose his hand and Simon high-fived him quietly. But Hugh seized the opportunity to take his hand, running his finger across his knuckles. “Okay, but you sing the spelling part, because—”

“You don't know how to spell,” Simon interrupted.

Hugh let go of his hand. “Well, when you said it in that tone, it sounds a little mean.”

Simon rolled his eyes and took his hand again. Then the logical part of his brain (yes, the same one that always insisted on being the voice of reason in situations like that) began to yell at him that he should convince Hugh to let Cyanide and Queen Bee did whatever they wanted, while the two of them did whatever they wanted.

But that the logical part of him had no voice in that situation because the logical part of his brain was not the part that loved Hugh. After all, there was nothing logical in loving the way he made a kind of mini-horn with both hands, took a deep breath, and yelled with all his might:

 “CYANIDE AND THE QUEEN BEE SITTING IN A TREE—”

Fifth try

Year 20

K-i-s-s-i-n-g.

That was what he wanted to be doing. He wanted to be kissing Simon. He wanted to be with him, walking in the park and watching life go by in front of them. The birds singing from the trees, the children chasing each other, and the wind ruffling their hair. The day was going to be so perfect that he was going to be able to ignore homeless people getting high on corners or young people dealing drugs (that should be) illegal, focusing all his attention on Simon and how happy he felt that this time, everything he was going well.

He didn't want to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

But apparently, that's what he was doing.

Tamaya was sitting on the floor, covering herself with her wings. Simon had sat on the other end of the three-seater couch, looking out the living room window with a thoughtful expression, worthy of a character in a Shakespearean play or something. Evander was leaning over him and had Kasumi on his lap. She was watching him play (or rather trying to play) a Tetris game that he had on his phone, putting her icy feet on Hugh's arm, probably without realizing it, and Hugh was on the other end of the couch, first starting at Simon, thinking of how handsome he looked when he was thinking, and then at Georgie. She had been smart enough to sit on the reclining sofa, which gave her the space she needed to cuddle with an inconsolable six-year-old Adrian.

“The storm will end soon,” she was telling him. “The storm will end soon.”

But that was not enough to comfort Adrian. His mother had already been telling him for about an hour that “the storm will end soon”, but the storm just ... did not end. And each time they heard a new thunder, Adrian let out a howl and clung to his mother with more force, asking her to please not go away.

Everyone knew that when Adrian asked Georgie not to go away, he was actually asking everyone not to go away. If any of them left the room, he would probably lose his mind.

He felt the urge to tell him that she wasn't going anywhere. That wasn’t very Georgie. Georgie didn't leave people who needed her like that, scared, crying, and begging her to stay. So since Georgie didn't do it, neither did the others.

It is not like they could have gone anywhere though.

Georgie realized that Simon hadn't stopped staring out the window.

“I'm sorry you couldn't do anything special this Valentine’s Day,” she whispered. Simon blinked as if he were waking up from a dream. “What did you have planned for this evening?”

Simon turned to see him, disappointed. Hugh decided to answer for him.

“We were going to have a picnic at the park,” he replied.

Georgie blurted out something that sounded like “Awww”, and Evander scoffed.

“That’s gay.” Hugh put his arm behind Kasumi and smacked Evander on the back of his head. “BRO, YOU LITERALLY MADE LOSE ME.”

Tamaya laughed and Kasumi shook her head. “I want to play too—” she tried to take the cellphone and Evander pressed it closer to his chest “—Vandy.”

Georgie intervened (without letting go of Adrian). “Vandy, give Kasumi the phone. It’s her turn. And then it's mine.”

But Evander didn’t want to. 

“But it only has ten percent of battery left,” he exclaimed.

“Perfect, it's more than enough for Tamaya, Kasumi, Simon, Hugh, and I to get a turn too.”

“Hugh punched me! He does not deserves a turn.”

“I didn't punch him,” Hugh said. “I just hit him very slightly.”

“My brain almost felt out of my head.”

“Do you still have a brain?” Tamaya asked. Hugh high-fived her. “I've been thinking about that joke for weeks, dude.”

“Evander Wade, share the phone,” Georgia said. “I'm no longer asking.”

“No! It's my phone.”

Desperate, Tamaya reached out to take Evander's cell phone, and he stood up so fast that Kasumi ended up falling on Tamaya.

“MOTHERFU—”

A thunder. Again.

Adrian started crying. Again.

And they all went silent. Again.

Hugh took advantage of the fact that Evander got out of the coach to move closer to Simon. Evander didn't say anything to him because he was too busy handing the cell phone to Tamaya, who then gave it to Kasumi. Kasumi refused to sit down with Evander again and stayed on the floor with Tamaya (although resting her head on his knees, as if they were a pillow).

Simon rested his head on Hugh's shoulder.

“Next year will be better,” he whispered in his ear. Simon didn't answer him; he only put his hand on the window, leaving the trace of his fingers on it. “Are you all right?”

Simon put his hand on Hugh’s waist and pulled him closer to him, closing his eyes for a while. “I'm tired…”

“Rest then.”

After all…

Hugh was tried too. 

There had never been a day when they didn't have to face a new threat. It seemed that the Anarchists, instead of getting weaker, were getting stronger. Even with the many new allies the Renegades had, no one seemed to have a second of the day to rest. Adrian got more and more nervous when they went out as days passed by, and it was becoming more difficult to calm down him during his tantrums. Even he, who was a child, could feel the tension in the city.

But precisely because of that, because he was a child, he could not understand the enormous responsibility that the Renegades had on his shoulders and that they could not stay with him, no matter how much they wanted to.

Maybe that was why no one had tried to leave the room. It was their way of telling Adrian that they were still there for him.

He was about to fall asleep when Simon pulled him away. His first instinct was to pull him closer, but as soon as he realized that Simon was just standing up, he let go of him.

Suddenly, he looked happier. Much happier than anyone else in that room.

Everyone noticed that change.

“Are you still too tired to celebrate Valentine’s Day?”

Even Hugh didn't understand what he meant.

Evander turned to see Georgie. “Georgie, you told them no hanky-panky in the house.”

“Vandy—” Kasumi intervened.

“Zoomie.”

“Don't say hanky-panky.”

“Yeah, you sound like a grandma,” Tamaya told him slightly punching him on the leg.

Hugh shushed them. “Shhh, guys, let Si talk.”

“No, go on, guys—” Simon told them “—Let us show you.”

And he held out his hand.

Obviously, Hugh accepted it.

He had no idea what Simon was planning to do, but he wasn't too tired not to celebrate Valentine's.

He was never too tired of him.

Adrian immediately reacted to this. “Hey, no, don't go...” he cried, stretching his little arms towards them.

Luckily, Simon looked like he already had that covered.

“We're not going anywhere, Adrian,” Simon assured him. “You are coming with us.”

Adrian and Georgie's eyes widened at the same time. 

“Me?” Adrian asked pointing to himself.

“You,” Simon replied, confidently. “But it's a very special mission,” he added in a lower voice, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can't tell anyone.”

Adrian rubbed his eyes and Georgie looked up at the ceiling as if she were making sure a new leak hadn't magically appeared. Tamaya, on the contrary, didn't understand, and she stared at the scene, very intrigued by Simon's plan too. Luckily, Georgie noticed it, and with a frantic movement of her hand, told her to stop staring. Hugh made the same move, but this time, directed at Kasumi and Evander.

When Adrian opened his eyes again, everyone but the two of them was pretending they weren't listening to the conversation.

“What mission is it?” Adrian asked in a thin voice.

“Look, we can't go out to celebrate Valentine's Day,” Simon explained, “but what we can do is bring Valentine's Day here with us.”

Adrian looked puzzled.

“Hey, but you're going to need a superhero name to be able to participate in the mission,” Hugh commented, trying to get Adrian more interested. “Do you have any ideas?”

Simon scratched his beard, thinking. “Hmm, very good question, my dear Captain,” he commented. “Maybe—”

“Oh, I know what superhero name I'll have,” Adrian exclaimed, grabbing Simon by the cheeks. “Hey, your beard feels funny.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks too. “What’s your superhero name, then?”

Adrian whispered it in his ear and Simon's face lit up. “It's a perfect name, Adrian.”

Adrian shushed him. “Shh, don't say my real name! I have to use my superhero name, remember? It's a mission.”

Evander scoffed again and Kasumi shushed him immediately. 

“And can he tell me your superhero name?” Hugh asked Adrian. 

Adrian stopped to think about it. “Yes, why not?” he finally replied.

Then, Simon stood slightly on tiptoe to reach him and whispered in his ear the most perfect superhero name he had ever heard.

Sketch.

Hugh took Adrian by surprise when he graved him and carried him in his arms, making him gasp in shock and excitement. Even Georgie started to laugh out loud at her son's reaction.

“Ready for the mission, Sketch?” he asked him making his voice lower than it actually was.

Adrian gave a military salute. “I was born ready, Captain!” he exclaimed, moving his feet in the air.

Georgie stood up too. “Where you taking my son, guys?” she asked dramatically.

Hugh placed Adrian on his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, mom,” Adrian told her, “I’ll be fine. I need to accomplish this mission.”

Georgie pretended to start sobbing. “No, but you don't have to, son of mine, you're too young!”

“Listen to your mother, kid,” Tamaya intervened. “Stay with us, stay safe with your family—“ and she passed her wings over Kasumi's shoulders.

“Tamaya has two wings,” Kasumi pointed out. “And they're warm.”

“Really?” Evander asked.

But Tamaya’s face changed immediately. “It's not for you, it's for Adrian.”

“GO WITH THEM, LITTLE SKETCH, GO!” Evander yelled standing up on the sofa. “GO SAVE VALENTINE’S DAY!”

That was enough for Adrian. He kissed his mother on the cheek and told her that he would be back soon. Then the three of them began their journey to the kitchen while the others stayed in the living room.

Simon pulled out a bag of bread from the refrigerator and asked Hugh to pass him the peanut and hazelnut butter jars from the cupboard. Adrian took it upon himself to count the remaining loaves of bread and separate them into pairs, spreading them on the table. Simon encouraged him to count how many pairs there were and Hugh had no problem helping him when he got stuck at number five. Then Simon toasted them on the stove, and he allowed Adrian to pile them up like a tower on a red ceramic plate.

When it was time to make the sandwiches, Simon and Hugh sat at different ends of the table, each holding a butter knife. Simon would spread peanut butter on one of the loaves, Hugh would spread hazelnut on the other, and Adrian would gather them together and wrap them the best he could in a napkin, before putting them in a makeshift basket that Kasumi had made long ago.

“Mommy, no!” yelled Adrian when Georgie dared to enter the kitchen. “It's a secret mission!”

“Don’t worry, don’t mind me,” she told them pretending not to notice what they were doing. “I'm just gonna prepare myself some strawberry milk.”

As soon as Adrian looked away, Georgie winked at Hugh. And Hugh winked back.

“I think we're done with this mission now,” he replied using that ridiculously deep voice again. “You have to break the news to the rest of the team, Sketch.”

Adrian jumped out of his chair and practically ran into the living room, holding the basket with sandwiches in his hand.

The three of them had been so into their mission, they didn't realize that the others had put several blankets on the floor and Tamaya was cursing under her breath for being unable to use a lighter to turn on the candles. Kasumi approached Adrian, with a VHS in each of her hands, asking him which movie he would like to see, and Evander came over too, but to try and tell Adrian to pick the action movie, not the romance movie the girls wanted to see.

Simon seemed like he wanted to join the conversation too, but Hugh thought he had done enough. And he meant it in a good way. So he took him by the hand and they lied down on the couch, not caring that perhaps one of the others wanted to sit on it.

Adrian had already chosen the movie (he chose the period drama over the action movie, thankfully) when Georgie walked into the living room with a stack of plastic cups under her arm and a jug half full of strawberry milk, carrying it as it were a trophy. During her birthday, everyone in the house had raised money to buy her a huge pot of strawberry milk powder, which they made her promise that she would not share.

Some promises could not be kept.

The adults got two sandwiches each, but Adrian had practically all of the strawberry milk. Throughout the movie, Kasumi was sighing and muttering how much she wanted to wear a dress like the one the main character wore in the movie during that elegant dinner. From to time, Tamaya frowned and muttered something about how problematic she found a line or scene. Georgie braided their hair and when she finished, she would undo the braid and start over, laughing out loud at Evander's comments about how horrible the romantic interest looked and that he did not understand how that was the ideal of beauty that women had. Adrian fell asleep in Simon's arms about halfway through, and about that exact time, Hugh began to notice that Simon was starting to have a hard time trying to stay awake.

He looked adorable when he was thinking, but he liked it even more how he looked when he was falling asleep.

He kissed the back of his head. “Are you tired?”

He nodded slightly. “Yes… but never of you.”

Hugh kissed him again. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“What thing?”

Georgie turned around for a second and realized that Adrian had fallen asleep. She stopped braiding Evander’s short hair (for some reason, Evander had let her braid his hair) and sat on the recliner chair, hugging Adrian like a stuffed animal.

She winked at him once more. And Hugh winked back, one more time.

“Nothing— ” he laid himself more comfortably on the couch and allowed Simon to get on top of him, resting his head on his chest. “—Sleep for a while.”

Simon made no further objection. “You too.”

Hugh did not fall asleep. In fact, he stayed awake for the three hours the movie lasted, even though by the time the credits started, Tamaya was snoring and Kasumi and Evander were under her wings, rolled up, and cuddled up to her. Georgie ended up falling asleep on the couch, covered in the same blanket Simon used to cover himself a few hours ago.

When the clock told him it was 7 PM, Hugh knew it was time for them to go patrol. However, the rain had gotten even worse, and Simon...

Simon looked so peaceful.

He hadn't realized how deep the bags under his eyes had gotten, nor that his face hadn't looked as relaxed as it looked right now for weeks, because he frowned most of the time. He hadn't held him that close either or had the opportunity to give him as many kisses as he had been doing in that time. Not because he didn't want to, it was just ... well, they had been busy trying not to die.

How tiring it was to try not to die.

He knew Simon was tired because, again, he was tired too, and he bet that the rest of their family felt the same as them. But Simon was the only one who had overcome his tiredness and his moodiness to just... make them forget their sorrows for a moment. 

He was like that.

Hugh gave him one more kiss on the cheek.

Thank you. 

If Simon had been awake, he would have asked him "Thanks for what?"

And Hugh would have answered him, "For just being you."

Someday they would get their happy ending. But for the moment, all he wanted was to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

He doubted that happiness would ever end.

Sixth (but not last) try

Two years after the Day of Triumph.

Just over a year ago, Simon had been on the roof of the same building he was currently in. Of course, it looked very different from how it looked now. It didn’t have any windows, no furniture, and, obviously, no electricity. It was the vile shell of what had once been one of the most beautiful skyscrapers in the city. Simon was thinking about that when he realized that he did not have a single memory of having seen that place when it was in its maximum splendor and that the only proof he had of it was the stories of those adults who arrived before him.

That sooner or later, he would become one of those adults. Those who told stories of the past to the generations that came after them.

He thought of Adrian. He thought that there would come a time when he would be curious to know certain things that happened and would ask questions that Simon would not be too sure how to answer. Not precisely because he didn't want to or because he thought he wasn't ready to hear the truth; he just didn’t know those truths at all. 

Why did people change for the worst? How did the world use to be when prodigies weren’t divided by heroes or villains?

What happened to Lady Indomitable?

How did the world use to be before she was gone?

Then Simon, with tears in his eyes, looked up at the crescent moon and the six stars lined up in such a way that they seemed to form a smile. He hadn’t seen anyone in his family smile for… a very long time. 

Because when Georgia Rawles left, she took with her their capacity to smile. 

Yet, at that moment, Simon could feel her. He could feel her when he was crying, asking her to please fly again and to help him get down from that skyscraper. He felt her hugging him, keeping him from falling to his knees and cutting his skin with the shattered glass that was on the floor. She promised him that she would never give up on him and assured him that every time he saw the sky, he would find those six stars forming that smile, which from that moment on, would be hers. 

Simon didn't want her to make promises, but… it was Georgie. His Georgie. The Georgie who made pinky promises even though she was about to turn thirty because you were never too old for pinky promises. The Georgie who always protected him and never gave up on him, even though there were times when Simon thought she should.

So since she was his Georgie, Simon accepted the promise. As she turned around and rose again to the sky, he wondered what would happen when the city was so full of light, that the stars (Georgie’s smile) faded away and everyone, including them, forgot about them (about her). 

But, after all this time, Simon was looking at the stars, on the roof of that same skyscraper that had now been turned into a fancy restaurant, holding Hugh's hand across the table, and noticing that Georgie was still smiling at him from above.

As it always should be.

“Did you ever expect things to turn out like this when you were little?”

He turned to see Hugh again. “What things?”

But Hugh kept staring at the stars. Simon didn't care. He liked to think that the sparkle in his blue eyes was due to them. “Us.”

Simon shook his head, “No,” he answered when he remembered Hugh couldn’t look at him. “Did you?”

Finally, Hugh saw him again. “I think that when I was little, I didn’t know one could be as happy as I am with you right now.”

Simon rolled his eyes. 

“I'm serious,” Hugh insisted, taking him just a little tighter by the hand. “I'm so glad we finally made it out.”

Simon leaned forward slightly. “We really did, huh?”

Then, Hugh gently pulled him closer to him, making their foreheads bump and closing his eyes. “And I'm so glad that now, nothing bad is gonna happen to you, to us, and to what we have.”

Simon closed his eyes too. He would have liked to promise Hugh that it would be like that. That this new chapter of their lives, the chapter of getting married, having kids, and rebuilding a city together, was would turn out as well as the last one, when they fought crime, defeated the bad guys, and held hands only when they were not wearing the armors that protected them from the outside world. 

But he could not promise that. And anyways, Hugh was not very fond of promises. He said they were very easy to break.

So he grabbed his chin and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before saying, “It's getting late. We should ask for the check.”

Hugh nodded and called a waiter. He noticed that Simon was reaching into his pocket and quickly told him not to do it, that he got it. Simon knew there was nothing he could do to make him change his mind, so he instead just asked if he could get a slice of chocolate cake to go. Adrian would love to have chocolate cake for breakfast.  

The waiter returned a few moments later with the bill (and Adrian’s chocolate cake). Simon almost winced when he saw the amount of money they had spent on a meal that hadn’t been that good in the first place (although he did not know if it was because of the lack of ingredients or because gourmet food kind of sucked). However, Hugh didn't seem at all concerned and reached into his pockets to get his wallet.

Suddenly, he leaned his elbows on the table. “Simon.” 

Simon leaned his elbows on the table too. “Yes?”

“Have I mentioned you look very handsome tonight?”

He tried to remember. “No,” he replied. “But thank you for noticing. I even took a shower.”

“Wow,” Hugh exclaimed with too much enthusiasm. “Feeling fancy today.”

“I do feel fancy today,” Simon replied, adjusting the jacket he had put on over his pink button-up shirt at the last moment because Hugh had told him that the restaurant had a pretty rigid dress code.

Simon almost didn’t put on the jacket out of pure spite. In fact, he spent all the way ranting about how it was stupid to have such a specific dress code in a place like Gatlon City, and that he bet that the owners of that restaurant, who now were acting like total snobs, had spent most of their lives wearing only a t-shirt and old jeans, like the rest of them.

Hugh, who had been wearing the jacket from the beginning (a blue one), was quiet, listening carefully to what Simon was saying until he blurted out:

“We can do something else if you want to.”

He didn't say it in an “I’m hurt by your comment” tone. Instead, he said it the same way he would tell him that they could watch another movie or that they could get take out instead of cooking dinner. He said it as if the reservation he made was not at stake, or as if he hadn’t been sending him hints of wanting to go to that specific restaurant since New Year.

Simon knew that if he had said yes, Hugh would have taken him wherever he wanted. However, Simon also knew that it didn't matter where they went. They had spent Valentine's in an alley, at a fair, fighting villains, and in a house too small for seven people. And in all those places, he had a great time.

Surely that place was… snobbish, but he could have a great time there too.

After all, they were together. 

He was sure Hugh knew that too. 

Hugh nodded, agreeing with him. He hardly ever agreed with someone other than himself anymore.

“Is this your strange way of making me say you look good too?” he asked him then.

And Hugh’s smile grew bigger. “Simon Westwood, you are the love of my life,” he replied taking his hand, “and this is my strange way of telling you I forgot my wallet at home.”

Simon laughed so loudly that the other customers turned to see him. But he couldn't care less. He kind of wanted them to saw them. He wanted them to notice how much he was laughing and he wanted them to see him kiss Hugh as he reached for his pockets…

Oh, no.

“Hugh.”

He tensed. “Yes, dear husband of mine who’s going to pay for this dinner?”

“You look good too.”

That was enough for Hugh to realize that Simon had also left his wallet at the house.

The two remained serious for a long time. But then, Simon could see how Hugh's brain clicked in a very strange way, which made him see this whole situation as the funniest thing that had ever happen to him.

He kissed him once more.

They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.

Boy, he would like to see someone try.

#queercreators #queercreators02 #renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #hugh everhart #simon westwood #humon #obsi's writs

[imagining-in-the-margins]

i have a slight question. is it okay as a white person to not write for poc? i feel like since i am not a poc i don’t even know the half of what they go through and it isn’t fair for me to write it? idk i’m not comfortable writing it bc i don’t want to misguide anyone or say i can relate or even say i know how they feel bc i don’t and that’s not fair for them. but then again i feel bad bc there aren’t many insert reader fics with poc. and the same goes for plus size reader i myself am a fairly tiny person and i’ve never experienced it so i don’t want to write it and it seem like i understand yk? i don’t feel like it’s my place to do that but when i say i’m uncomfortable writing for that when followers ask they get upset but i’m not uncomfortable in the bad way people see it as i’m uncomfortable bc it’s not something i’m familiar with. i hope this doesn’t come off as insensitive or rude i’m genuinely asking bc i write with what i know best and that’s myself so sometimes my insert readers can also be seen as oc and i make sure i put that as a warning before readers start reading when i do descriptors of y/n. i also don’t write descriptors but people specifically ask for poc and plus size and i feel terrible. again i swear this isn’t supposed to come off as me being a horrible person i’m just really stuck and upset that i don’t know how to write for those things.

First, I want to acknowledge that I am thin and white, so I can't really answer this how you probably want me to. Not to mention, there are dozens of better articulated posts on this by people of color, which I will try to compile for a post, which I’ll put in my Masterlist when I have time/energy.

I don’t personally think there is anything wrong if you refuse to write ANY specific trait for Reader. However, that is not what I see that upsets most people. From what I’ve seen, most people are (rightfully) upset because we tend to write the unlabeled “Reader” as thin and white. That is not okay, and should be corrected by the writer (I’ve been going through and editing my old works to do this, and everyone should take the time to do the same).

When in doubt, label it. Let them know at the start so they aren’t blindsided by it. They have to do enough to rewrite the story in their head. They shouldn’t have to worry about it. Make requesting guidelines and specify your identities and what you don’t feel comfortable with. I personally don't feel comfortable writing fics where the plot specifically revolves around the oppression of an identity I do not possess.

Those are my thoughts, but, again, I am a thin white girl. You should talk to people of color and plus sized people (while also recognizing they are not a monolith and very well may disagree among one another).

#answer #answered #rant