no idea for hashtags

[MM] April Fool’s DLC release + 1.7.0 update


Hello, this is Cheritz. 

We have added a new episode today for April Fool’s.


Content Updated for the April Fool’s DLC

  *3 new April Fool’s Endings (Fully voiced)

  *New Ringtones(Text, Calls, Emails)

  *April Fool’s Free talk

  *April Fool’s Special BGM

*You can check out all the content in the Special menu.

*The BGM composer of Mystic Messenger, Flaming Heart, has composed the

April Fool’s special BGM. You can check them out with this April Fool’s DLC. Thank you!

*You can also check out the Valentine’s Day twitter hashtag event winner’s ideas!


1.7.0 Update Content

- April Fools DLC addition.

- Improved the in game resource update system.

- English version image fixes.

- English typos fixed.

- Trivial bug fixes.

- Restored the save popup when entering the April Fools DLC.


[v1.7.0 Update Release]

Android: We are planning to release a new version today

iOS: Takes an extra 2~4 business days after the Android update due to the Apple review process.


and…

On April 1, April Fool’s, you can enjoy an even more special Mystic Messenger!

Happy April Fool’s. Thank you!

When Duty and Desire Meet Chapter 4

Art by @edendaphne , words by moi!

Summary: After their accidental kiss on Valentine’s day, both Marinette and Chat Noir have to deal with the emotional fallout of their actions.

Read on AO3
Read on tumblr

~

Valentine’s Day Part 2

“So, let me get this straight,” Alya said, leaning back against Marinette’s desk chair and steepling her fingers. Beside her, on a little table-cushion Marinette had made, Tikki slept soundly, having already heard the story a thousand times over. “You’re in love with Chat Noir.”

“You already knew that,” Marinette groaned from her chaise, hugging a cushion to her chest and leaning back like a Freudian patient. Lord knows she was about three sentences away from a therapy-inducing hissy fit regardless, so it was probably prudent of her to be lying down in such a way. She was preparing for her inevitable breakdown that’s all. It was the smart thing to do.

And she rarely did the smart thing nowadays it seemed, so she really needed this.

“You’ve been in love with Chat as Ladybug for like a bajillion years,” Alya continued, ignoring Marinette as she continued to rehash pointless details. Details which made Marinette want to bludgeon herself to death with her cushion.

It was most likely impossible to do such a thing but she was never one to back down from a challenge. Death by cushion- she’d find a way.

“Yes. We’ve already established that,” she replied through gritted teeth, said cushion slowly creeping up to cover her face.

“But last night you kissed him by accident,” Alya said.

“Uh-huh.”

“As Marinette.”

“That is correct sir,” Marinette wiggled a finger.

“And he gave you a rose and kissed you back.”

“Tru’ dat.”

It was indicative of Marinette’s deteriorating mental state that she’d said “Tru’ dat”. She’d never said “Tru’ dat” in her whole life.

“I see,” Alya nodded a few times. The fact her tone had remained neutral the whole time was doing nothing to help Marinette’s poor nerves, and so she swung her legs over the side of her chaise, sitting up to get a better view of Alya’s twinkling eyes. A sense of dread settled in Marinette’s stomach. Alya’s eye-twinkles were never a good thing, at least when they were directed towards her.

I see?! Is that all you have to say? Seriously?! I thought you’d be freaking out right now, I mean I’m freaking out but then I ALWAYS freak out. You not freaking out is making me freak out harder! Can you please freak out with me? Join me in the freak out zone already!” Marinette blabbed, waving her arms and promptly dropping the cushion to the ground.

Alya said nothing, instead choosing to raise an eyebrow at her and cross her legs. At least she’d stopped steepling her fingers, Marinette thought gruffly.

After a short pause, Alya finally spoke, but her voice wobbled and strained unnaturally, her lips thinned in a way that was entirely too suspicious. “Firstly, stop saying freak out, secondly I’m not freaking out because this is the funniest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She barely made it to the end of her sentence before she doubled over and descended into giggles.

It was in that moment that Marinette realised Alya’s peculiar behaviour had been due to her hiding her amusement, and she felt fully justified in yanking the cushion from its position on the floor and hurling it towards her supposed ‘best friend forever.’

Unfortunately, Alya dodged the fluffy projectile with ease.

“Come on, this is serious! I’m in hot water here!” Marinette cried, crossing her arms across her chest.

“When are you not though? Let’s be real,” the redhead shot back with a wry grin, twirling in the chair and kicking backwards to check her hair in the small vanity mirror on Marinette’s desk. The sight made Marinette relax a little. Alya only checked her hair with such scrutiny when she was seriously contemplating something.

Suddenly missing the comforting embrace of the cushion, Marinette flopped down once more. As her back hit the large pillows adorning her chaise, she let out a long sigh and all the fear, the panic, the fight, left her in one fell swoop. Only tiredness and uncertainty remained.

“How am I going to face him?” she whispered. Her head tilted towards her small, round window, to the afternoon sun beaming down in a total antithesis to her feelings. She wondered where Chat Noir was at that moment.

Did she cross his mind?

Over the years Marinette had asked herself that question more times than she could count. But it was different now. Now she wondered if Chat thought of her, of Marinette, not of Ladybug. Did he dwell on it- how they’d kissed? She had. She’d thought about it all night, until exhaustion had finally overcome her and she’d woken up late, cold, wanting something she could barely comprehend.

For years, she’d thought about what it would mean to kiss Chat Noir, Dark Cupid incident aside considering she couldn’t even remember it.

A small, involuntary whimper left her when she recalled the night before. The kiss had been an accident… at first. But the second she felt Chat’s lips press into hers was burned into her memory, playing over and over again. The moment he returned her kiss had ignited something dormant inside her and she felt raw, emotions exposed and unlocked, with nowhere to hide.

She considered her question again. How on earth could she face him as Ladybug, knowing what she did, knowing him the way he didn’t know he knew her (and god wasn’t that sentence confusing in and of itself)?

For God’s sake Marinette, it was a peck of a kiss at the most, pull yourself together!

“You’ll figure it out.”

Alya’s voice sounded lightyears away, so stuck was Marinette in her own musings. She jumped, a little sheepishly, and realised she hadn’t noticed Alya coming over to her until the spinning desk chair was pressed right by the chaise. The next moment, Alya’s hands were in her hair. Having thoroughly fixed her own short curls, she now concentrated on the silky strands of Marinette’s loose locks, braiding little plaits as if they were children at a sleepover.

Marinette let her. Two perfectly groomed heads were better than one.

“You think you can talk to him about it? As you I mean, not Ladybug,” Alya suggested, quickly clarifying her meaning whilst tugging the red ribbons loose from Marinette’s dark hair.

Snorting in response, Marinette couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Talk? To Chat? The very idea…

“Yeah sure, let me just tweet at him Ayla. Hashtag balcony make-outs,” she giggled, feeling a little better as her hair fell around her shoulders.

Foregoing the braids, Alya reached up and began tying something new into Marinette’s hair, tutting in disapproval. “Slide into the DM’s at least girl, I raised you better than that.”

They shared a laugh, settling into a comfortable silence as Alya worked on both sides of her hair. Marinette sat back and mulled over her options. Truth be told she didn’t have many. She couldn’t talk to Chat, after all it wasn’t likely he’d be back and she had no idea who he was in real life. The notion that she could talk to him as Ladybug, thus revealing herself, made her rapidly descend into a panic so sharp that she quickly pushed that thought to the side.

Really there was nothing else to do but call it what it was. A blip. A crazy alignment of stars which had given her a taste of everything she’d wanted for the past four years, a reminder that it was probably all she was going to get.

She tried not to let the disappointment settle in her bones, yet it was fruitless. Her chest ached as though a hole had been carved there.

Suffice to say it was a familiar ache where Chat was concerned, but it was bigger now.

“There. Done,” Alya pulled back, pleased with her work, and Marinette stood. Stepping over to the vanity mirror, she leaned down to check her reflection. “Matching colours for you and the bae,” she teased, eyebrows wiggling from underneath her rounded glasses.

Marinette threw the cushion at her again, feeling a smug sense of satisfaction as it smacked her right in the face.

At the very least, she had the Gaming Club that night, that would provide a very welcome distraction.

***

Adrien was on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

Which was ironic, considering he’d joined the Gaming Club to avoid that exact thing from happening.

“I can’t do this, I’m going to cancel,” he whimpered, hiding out in the bathroom a floor above their usual meeting place like the coward he was.

“So cancel,” Plagg shrugged, busy amusing himself with unfurling a roll of toilet paper- as per his usual hobby.

“I can’t cancel!” Adrien replied, horror struck as he gazed at himself in the mirror. His fingers gripped the sides of the sink so hard that his knuckles turned white. “Are you insane?!”

“So don’t cancel,” Plagg’s disinterested monotone was really starting to grate on him. “Honestly kiddo what do you want me to say and will it get me food faster?”

The resounding groan from Adrien’s throat was so despairing in nature that he was afraid he’s start rumours of a ghost haunting the building. He leaned on his elbows, burying his face into his hands.

Stupid. He’d been so, so, stupid. And reckless! Totally reckless. What had he been thinking?!

It was worth it though, a small, unchecked part of him thought. Adrien squashed it flat in an instant. After all there was no time to consider the fluttering in his chest, the pleasant swoop of his stomach. Now was the time to face the consequences of his actions. His incredibly foolish, totally moronic actions.

Because, although a part of him ignited, burned in the best possible way, at the memory of Marinette’s lips against his own, another part felt thoroughly ashamed. It felt like he was tricking her in some way. Granted that had never been his intention. His plan had been simple. Leave the rose on her balcony for her to discover. She’d never know it was him and be happy at the gift from a secret admirer. Obviously, things hadn’t worked out the way he planned, though he should have anticipated that.

When had things ever gone the way he planned?

He needed to apologise to her, as Chat, and he was going to do so that night in fact. But before that Adrien needed to pretend, he needed to lie, to Marinette. To the girl he loved. He needed to act like he hadn’t heard her soft sigh, felt the warmth of her skin and the taste of her cherry-blossom lips. He had to fake it, act like it had never happened.

He had to pretend he didn’t desperately want it to happen again.

The idea of being so fake made him ill, and so he placed his hands under the cold water tap to splash his face, allowing the iciness of the water to penetrate his senses and offer him some much-needed clarity.

It didn’t really work but it was the best he could do.

When he entered the Gaming Club, Plagg tucked securely inside his jacket pocket, he was relieved to see Marinette talking to other people. He could barely look at her, the meagre glimpse he’d gotten from across the room had sent his heart cartwheeling down the corridor and somewhere into the next arrondissement.

Not wanting to look suspicious, and fully admitting that he was stalling for time, Adrien wandered over to the desk where Nino was hooking up an old Nintendo console for one of their signature Mario Kart nights.

Mario Kart…Marinette…partners… sitting close together… oh no.

“Hey bro!” Nino chirped, offering Adrien a fist to bump, clearly not noticing how the blood had completely drained from his friend’s face. “Everything ok?”

“H-hey! Everything’s good!” The first lie of the evening. How could Adrien have forgotten it was a Mario Kart night? More importantly, how was he going to survive the evening now? Sitting next to Marinette, shoulders pressed together, watching her tongue poke out in concentration like it normally did? How could he concentrate on anything knowing how close he’d been to said tongue the night before?

Grow up Adrien! You aren’t some horny teenager and Marinette isn’t a prize to be objectified. Show her some respect already!

If Nino had thought Adrien’s reaction was strange, he didn’t show it. Together they settled into an easy conversation, Adrien helping his friend set up the old console. Focusing on such a menial task did wonders for his nerves. He was almost starting to feel normal. Almost.

Of course, just as he was beginning to relax, Marinette had to tap him lightly on the shoulder.

She might as well have given him a 1.21 gigawatt electric shock, given his reaction to both was about the same. If he’d been Chat Noir at the time, his superpowers might have actually propelled him through the ceiling.

“A-Adrien?” Marinette tilted her head, taken aback by his startled shriek. “Are you ok?”

Subconsciously, Adrien’s hand reached up and he clutched his chest, fingers burying into his jumper as if it would cure the frantic beating of his wild heart.

Because she was there, right in front of him. Marinette. The girl he’d kissed last night.

His eyes flicked down to her lips before he could help himself.

“Adrien?”

The second time her voice permeated through his cloudy mind, something snapped inside of him. It was as if he were a character in a film, once played in slow motion, now fast-forwarding.

“Hey!” he cried, louder than he intended, and the people around him turned to stare. He looked at her eyes instead, with far more intensity than normal, mainly because he was so intent on not looking at her lips any more. “Marinette! It’s my friend- Marinette! My good friend, I’m good! How are you? You good- good? Yeah, I’m good, friend. How are you? Did you have a good Valentine’s day?”

WHAT?! Adrien’s brain-filter kicked in far too late, but began screaming at him nonetheless. Why would you ask her that? WHY?! You know how it went! YOU WERE THERE!

Marinette blinked, and it proved just how far gone he was that he found her blinking adorable.

Her blinking.

“Umm,” she blushed, unsure of what to say and, honestly, Adrien couldn’t blame her. He sounded insane even to his own ears, and he’d just asked her something quite private. Actually, he was surprised she wasn’t berating him for it. Then again, she thought he didn’t know about her encounter with Chat Noir.  His words may have seemed innocent to her ears.

What a mess Adrien had gotten himself into, and it only seemed to grow worse with every bit of word-vomit he expelled.

(Was it bad that he felt a tiny bit of pride at her blushing? Probably. But he was going to hell anyway so he might as well enjoy the slow descent at least a little bit.)

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Marinette glanced baffled at Nino, whom Adrien could see shrugging from his peripheral vision.

But he couldn’t care less.

Because he’d just noticed her hair. Or, more specifically, how she was wearing it.

In place of the red ribbons usually tied into her loose black locks, were two green ones instead. Vivid green. Chat Noir green.

His brain collapsed in on itself.

“I’m good-good too.”

Marinette was teasing him. She was grinning and she had green ribbons in her hair and Adrien was going to DIE.

“Good! That’s good!”

Great. He’d always wanted to die sounding like a partially strangled mongoose.

Marinette, mercifully, took pity on him and waved a controller in his face, offering him a place in the first race of the evening. He sighed, relaxing a little, but only a little. Gaming was fine. It was a welcome distraction, as long as he didn’t sit too close to her he’d be fine (who was he kidding? Of course he was going to sit close to her). At least, when he was focused on blue shells and Bullet Bills his brain couldn’t fixate on the meaning behind Marinette’s ribbons, if there was any hidden symbolism he was missing.

Suddenly the thought of seeing her that night, of apologising, seemed that much more dangerous- forbidden almost. But he had to do it. He owed it to her as her friend. Even if that’s all he could ever hope to be.

Nino still hadn’t finished setting up, and a few other members began helping him in their eagerness to get started. As a result, Adrien found himself more alone with Marinette than ever.

They sat down on the floor, controllers in hands, side by side. Their shoulders brushed, like they always did.

Adrien swallowed, wishing he’d worn a t-shirt instead of the woollen monstrosity currently overheating him.

He was fairly sure he was going to lose the game spectacularly.

His fears were proved right when, later that evening, Marinette’s knee brushed against his own and he ended up sending Donkey Kong careening off the end of Rainbow Road.

It was going to be a long night.

***

For the fifteenth time that evening, Marinette called herself an idiot.

Because she was an idiot. An idiot for standing on her balcony, an idiot for hoping lightning would strike twice in the same spot, an idiot for following her heart…

Tightly wrapping her cardigan around her, she gazed out into the mocking skyline. The bitterness of the cold February air was nothing compared to the bitterness she felt building up like sludge in her chest. Bitterness in her fortunes, bitterness in her decisions, bitterness in her own feelings.

Distantly, Marinette thanked the stars that at least it wasn’t as cold as it usually was. She was thankful she had a tiny shred of dignity left at least- that she wasn’t freezing to death in the vain hope that Chat Noir would show up again.

She reached up, fingers brushing against her lips, and remembered.

Furious with herself, Marinette shook her head, as if the rough gesture would expel all the unwanted memories from her mind. Honestly what was she doing acting like a silly sixteen-year-old with a crush? Again?! It was desperate, obsessive, ridiculous-

And totally in character if she was being honest with herself.

She needed a break. A breather. A respite from her own whirlwind emotions regarding the man in the black mask, the man who’d held her heart for longer than she cared to admit to anyone- not even Alya.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Marinette let out one last frustrated sigh before turning on her heels and making her way back to her room. Maybe her room would be less of a reminder, would save her from her torment.

But, as usual, fate had other plans for her.

Because, of course, Chat Noir happened to be standing there as if he’d suddenly popped into existence.

The shock of seeing him sent Marinette stumbling backwards with a cry, tripping over a flowerpot and tumbling to the ground.

“Whoa!” Chat called, rushing forward to catch her just in time. One hand gripped her flailing wrist, the other pressed against the small of her back as he pulled her towards him.

For a moment, both of them froze in place. Chat’s fingers splayed across her back, and she briefly felt the edges of his clawed-gloves scratching gently against the fabric of her cardigan. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine before she could control it.

Chat’s eyes widened and he stepped out of their half-embrace with awkward, jittery movements, casting his face away from hers. “Sorry,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “Sorry I shouldn’t have startled you. I guess I have a bad habit.”

Bad habit huh? Marinette had one of those too.

The silence which settled on them both was heavy, uncomfortable, and borderline unbearable. It was laden with memories of the night before, swirling around them, echoing in their minds as though they were standing in an empty theatre, watching their mistakes projected on a screen with no means of escape.

Because it was a mistake… wasn’t it? She hadn’t meant to kiss him, he probably regretted kissing her back. That was why he was here- of that she was sure. To think he was here for any other reason was just asking for a broken heart.

But, oh god, it hadn’t been a mistake. Not to her. She couldn’t ever consider it to be such.

Finally, Marinette could take the silence no longer. Taking a deep breath, she fixed a smile onto her face, painted a picture of a girl who had herself together at least a little, and placed a hand on her hip.

“No rose tonight?”

Chat’s cat-ears twitched. He peered over at her with a puzzled frown before he realised she was teasing. Something dark crossed his eyes and Marinette forgot how to breathe. The look was gone before she could concentrate on it fully, and she found that he was smiling back at her.

“Err, n-no. No. That is- I mean- unfortunately not,” he replied with his signature bow. “But I do have something far more important.”

“Oh really?” Marinette squeaked, inwardly cringing at how lame she sounded. She’d wanted her voice to be sensual and teasing, but instead it sounded like she’d inhaled a ton of helium instead. Clearing her throat, she tried again, arching her eyebrow for good measure and all the while thrilled at the fact that he was simply there. Chat Noir was there. He’d come back to her. “What’s that?”

“An apology.”

Marinette’s blood ran cold.

“About last night,” Chat continued, shuffling from foot to foot, completely unaware of how Marinette’s body, mind, and heart had seized up all at once. “I feel like I made a terrible impression. I- well- I’m not the type of guy to do… what I did.”

From the depths of despair and panic, Marinette felt the faintest hints of confusion. She latched onto it. Confusion was better than rejection.

“What do you mean?” she asked, her voice small and vulnerable, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Well I’m not really a playboy or anything, despite what the media likes to speculate about me. I don’t kiss strangers on balconies. I guess, I didn’t want you to have the wrong impression about me.”

When Marinette hung her head, Chat felt a wave of regret wash over him. He’d practiced what he wanted to say, over and over again but it never seemed enough to fully explain himself- not without revealing to her that he was Adrien Agreste and he’d been lying to her this entire time. He was too afraid of the ramifications of that- so he needed to end this now- before he hurt her.

Damn it, he’d gotten so close though. So close to knowing what they could have- what they could be.

But it was a fantasy. Chat Noir was a large part of him, but it wasn’t all of him. The person he was behind the mask was locked away from Marinette, was a separate entity in her eyes.

Who was he fooling? They couldn’t be together. Not like this.

He had to try harder as Adrien and if she rejected him he would simply pick up the pieces of his broken heart. He would respect her, be her friend, move on, and certainly not use Chat Noir’s hero status as a means to trick her into loving him. She deserved better, deserved the world, even if he wasn’t the one to give it to her.

That’s why he had to leave. Right now. Being here, being this close to her, was crumbling his resolve. Every cute gesture she made was another step closer to his damnation. He had to leave before he said or did something he’d regret, before his principles were lost to the wind.

“It was Valentine’s day. I guess… it’s easy to get swept up in the romance of the day, right?” Marinette said. She was smiling, but the sparkle in her eyes was dulled somehow. Once again Chat’s attention was drawn to the green ribbons in her hair, as she quickly tucked a few strands behind her ears. He couldn’t bring herself to speak as she grew distant, deep in her own thoughts, and her shoulders raised. “But if we’re being honest Chat, I was worried you’d see me in a bad light too. Like- I mean- I’m not the kind of girl who kisses random celebrities and I’m certainly not the type to blab to the press about it either.”

“I didn’t ever think you were,” he uttered, swallowing thickly, and a little bit of sparkle returned to Marinette’s eyes. Her cheeks turned pink again.

Chat felt his claws digging painfully into his palms.

“Well… that’s a relief. I mean I always admired you,” Marinette stammered out the confession before she meant to, quickly covering her blunder with half-truths. “You know you saved me once- from an akuma. You didn’t notice me at the time, and it was years ago, but I never forgot.”

Chat felt as though he’d been physically struck by her words.

He’d saved her? He’d saved Marinette? And he hadn’t noticed her?!

“I wish I’d seen you,” he said before he could help himself. The rest of his desires remained unsaid, as new possibilities, new what ifs, formed in his mind- like an alternate reality.

Chat inwardly cringed. No way in hell was he going to get any sleep that night.

“I wish you’d seen me too,” Marinette admitted.

Chat’s hand was halfway to hers before he yanked it back, his heart beating wildly, his mind screaming at him to leave. The pull was almost tangible, magnetic, drawing him closer to her. It was dangerous, and he needed to leave.

“I hate to be a sundae, but I have to split!” he laughed, high and fake, all the while cringing at what was perhaps the worst pun he’d ever made. And that was saying something.

Marinette didn’t say anything, but laughed once.

Ok, she thought, maybe she was ridiculous, but he was equally so. Maybe that’s why she loved him so much.

She watched him make his way to the edge of the balcony and something stirred inside her, the raw feelings which had sparked when their lips had met woke from their slumber, and she reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Chat?” her voice matched the soft tremors echoing through her body, and she tried to remember to breathe. She couldn’t let him leave like this, she’d been so close. “How about…one last kiss?”

Chat stilled, statue-like. His lips parted, and Marinette panicked.

“I mean!” she corrected, face turning to flames, “I mean sorry that was dumb- so dumb. It’s just that I- I liked that kiss and I thought- I don’t know what I thought- but I wanted to-”

His lips crashed into hers, and the rest of Marinette’s sentence was lost forever.

Chat kissed her, kissed her with a resolve thoroughly destroyed and a heart so indescribably owned; owned by her, possessed by her, consumed by her. His hands were frantic, and Marinette matched him in every way as they pressed into each other. Her fingers gripped the back of his head, tangled in his hair, and pulled him closer.

Like he needed an excuse to get closer to her.

The pair of them moved apart to breathe, great shuddering breaths, and then their lips were together again- as neither of them could stand to be apart for a moment. Chat’s fingers slid from her hands to grip her hips, a primal, dark part of him triumphant as he heard a moan slip from Marinette’s mouth.

They stumbled backwards, towards the wall, and Chat pressed her against it, hands roaming her sides- never going too far- always listening to her reactions. Desire coursed through him, a need to please her, to make her moan again, without pushing too far.

She must have sensed him falter, sensed his caution, as a frustrated hum rose from the back of her throat, almost like a purr of her own. Her hands moved from his hair, gripping the bell around his throat, and she tugged him down towards her, kissing his neck.

Chat was having a hard time not passing out from that alone, but then she rolled her hips, making it so there wasn’t a sliver of streetlight between them, and he was fairly certain he died and was reborn on the spot.

Dangerous was the word whispering in his mind, the word he was ignoring as his hands cupped the sides of Marinette’s face, tilting her head back. She arched into him again, countering his movements like a dance, and he gasped.

It felt too natural, too perfect… almost…familiar.

Dangerous he thought as his tongue flicked against her lips.

Dangerous- he thought as her mouth opened and he was rewarded with another moan.

Stop. Stop before you can’t, he pleaded with himself as Marinette’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, her fingernails scratching against his neck.

He didn’t stop.

They kissed for what seemed like hours, passion moving from an explosive force to one of slow-burning sensuality, settling into a rhythm that was far too natural, but neither of them could bring themselves to mind.

It was a long time before Chat could bring himself to leave her, to stop kissing her. It was addictive, intoxicating, and filled with promise. For months his heart had been starved, yearning and wishing, and now it was real. Their kisses were real, her affections were real.

And so was her voice, ringing out in the coldness of the night, in answer to his question, “May I see you tomorrow night, Princess?”

There was a pause, both of them treading on thin ice, ice which slowly creaked and groaned beneath their feet.

“Yes,” she breathed, and the ice shattered, plunging them both into unknown depths.

(art to follow)

the signs as classical songs it's inappropriate to get married to

Aries: Ah, si, ben mio, from Verdi’s Il trovatore 
Taurus: Per la gloria d'adorarvi, from Bononcini’s Griselda
Gemini: O süsseste Wonne!, from Wagner’s Die Walküre
Cancer: Měsíčku na nebi hlubokém (Song to the Moon), from Dvorak’s Rusalka
Leo: Pur ti miro, from Monteverdi’s Incoronazione di Poppea 
Virgo: Warum hat jeder Frühling nur einen Mai, from Lehár’s Der Zarewitsch  
Libra: Ombra mai fù, from Handel’s Serse 
Scorpio: Soave sia il vento, from Mozart’s Così fan tutte
Sagittarius: La ci darem la mano, from Mozart’s Don Giovanni
Capricorn: Quando le sere al placido, from Verdi’s Luisa Miller
Aquarius: Verranno a te sull'aure, from Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor 
Pisces: Signore, ascolta, from Puccini’s Turandot

Growing Up Shy

Finally getting that fangirly merch and being TERRIFIED to actually wear it

4

I made these for my advertising course, but then I was like “wait these are good why would i just let them sit on my computer???”

Inspired by people who keep saying rude, condescending things to me about my disorder lately! And….you know, throughout my entire life…but especially lately.

I kind of love the fact they had to give Luke Evans fake teeth because his canine teeth as so long. But i also kind of hate t because i LOVE his canine teeth. Does anyone else have this feeling.

Originally posted by gayfanboyy

Y'know what the fuck I should do? I should frikkin make a YouTube video every time someone asks me a question I know I’m gonna spend hours typing up an answer to. That way I can get some ad revenue and LITERALLY make it worth my time, plus it takes less time to do, PLUS I’ll have some actual #CONTENT on my channel until I can get more W2H up there. I’m not sure if this is just the combo of my pissyness over loosing that post + all the money I blew fixing my jeep today speaking OR if this is actually a good idea, so I'ma SLEEP on this shit and look at it tomorrow with some FRESH-ass eyeeees

GOOOOOOOD NIght.

He Touches Your Ass #1

Luke

He’s been doing it ever since you started your relationship, neither of you intend to take it anywhere else, it’s just casual. Luke will come down the stairs and walk down the hallway, seeing you standing at the counter doing whatever, thinking how good your ass looks in those jeans, and he’ll saunter in walking over to you, his hand sliding down your back and to your ass, you sigh with a small smile then look up at him. “What?” He asks innocently. “Nothing.” You shake your head, going back to what you were doing. “So, my mum wants us to go over next week, because apparently we haven’t seen everyone in a while, when we actually saw everyone last month.” Luke begins. “What day?” You ask. “Wednesday.” He says, his thumb going up and down on your ass. “Okay, looking forward to it.” You nod. “Cool, thank you, Ashton is coming over in a minute by the way.” Luke tells you and kisses your cheek, before squeezing your ass. “Love you.” He says like a school girl and walks away, you throwing a ‘love you too’ over your shoulder. Or he’ll do it when you’re walking down the hallway, and if he has socks on Luke will slide on the floor his hand connecting with your ass, “what’s for dinner tonight?” He asks. “Uh, I don’t know, take away?” You question. “This is one of the reasons I love you.” He says and slaps your ass lightly twice and walks away. He’ll never do it in public, only at home, or somewhere that is private.

Michael

Contrary to Luke, Michael would love to do it in public. You can guarantee he will do it every time you both go out, sometimes it’s to annoy you or it’s just by habit. You’re pushing the trolley, bent over looking at the shopping list, Michael will come back from getting some cereal a few aisles back, throwing it in the trolley as his hand becomes in touch with your ass. “Thank me later.” He says. “How do I do that?“  You raise an eyebrow. “I think you know.” He winks. “Get bent, Clifford.” You laugh and push his hand off you. “Oh, is this how we’re gonna play?” Michael questions. “Play what?” You ask as you turn down another aisle. “Babe, we’re married, you don’t have to play hard to get anymore.” Michael tells you. “I will hit you with this breadstick.” You threaten as you put it in the trolley. “You’ll hit me with Luke?” He asks and you just sigh, massaging your forehead. “Wow, your buns are a lot better than these buns.” He squeezes your ass and puts them in the trolley. “I want a divorce.” You claim. “If you do that, who will hold your ass as well as me?” He questions as he squeezes it. “I think it needs a rest from all the touching.” I inform. “Babe, just let it be, let’s the ass be, wait I’m gonna tweet that.” He gasps. “What #lettheassbe?” You question. “Yes! I’ll start a hashtag, great idea, this is why I married you.” He says. You shake your head and carry on shopping, going round the aisles with Michael on his phone, or occasionally losing him. “Oh, we forgot bananas, could you run and get some?” You ask Michael as you get to the check out. “I don’t know about running but sure. What do you need bananas for anyway?” He asks. “If you’re got around and I get lonely and bored, no, I’m making banana bread.” You joke as you load things on. “Do you really do that when I’m not around?” He questions. “No, I don’t stick fruit up my vagina, now go.” You turn him around and push him into the right direction. “I’m back, I know I’m the best husband ever, you can make it up to me later.” Michael comes back a minute later, his hand making contact with your ass. “Thank you.” You smile and give him a kiss and pull out your card, ready to pay for all this. There’s been so many pictures fans have taken of you guys with Michael’s hand on your ass, and everybody teases him about it, but he loves it because he loves the playfulness of your relationship.

Calum

Calum is more laid back compared to the others so he’d be more casual, you would both be on the couch, watching a film or something, you’d be laying between his legs, your head rested on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Originally his hands started at your waist, just holding it, then they gradually started to go south, going down to the small of your back, his hands interlocking together to get a tighter grip, then as you repositioned yourself on top of him he slid his hands down, placing them right on top of your ass. You’re so used to it now that it doesn’t even affect you, you just snuggle deeper into him. “Did you take the trash out?” You ask, looking up at him. “Yeah.” He nods looking down at you. “Thanks.” You smile and give him a kiss. There’s casual Calum, there’s also annoying and teasing Calum. You’d be busy, taking the washing out the washing machine, when he’ll come up to you, with a hot but annoying smirk and squeeze your ass, making you groan and stand up straight. “Really, Calum?” You question. “What?” He asks. “I hate you.” You sigh and begin to walk away, only to be pulled back by your hips. “Do you really?” He whispers in your ear. “Most of the time.” You nod. “You sure about that baby girl?” He questions and runs his nose along your neck.  “Yeah.” You confirm and turn around so that you’re facing him. Calum’s hands go down to your ass, and winks at you as you give him an unimpressed look. “Love you.” He grins at you. “Love you too, Cal.” You reply in the same tone, before kissing his jaw. “I have an idea.” You propose. “Spill.” He urges. “Let me touch your ass.” You say. “No, we’ve gone over this, only I get to touch the asses in this relationship. Let me handle the ass.” He tells you. “You never support me in anything I want to do!” I exclaim and walk away from him.

Ashton

As opposed to the others, Ashton uses his ability as a boyfriend in a ‘useful’ way. He guides you around with a hand on your ass, you’re so used to it now that you barely notice it. You’ll be at an arena that the boys were playing at later on, you’re all going through all the twisty bendy halls, so you can get to the dressing room. You’re on your phone texting your mum about things, so you’re not really paying attension to anything other than your phone. As you turn the corner Ashton’s hand comes down to your ass, guiding you round the corner. “Normal couples hold hands, but Y/N and Ashton hold asses.” Michael says. “Get bent, Clifford.” You tell him, making the others laugh. “You guys are so disgusting.” Luke shakes his head. “It’s only because you’re single and bitter.” Ashton responds and guides you round the final corner, there’s only a long corridor until you get to the dressing room. “What and me being in a relationship will make seeing you guys be gross easier?” Luke questions. “You’d understand it more.” Ashton shrugs. “We’ve been together for 6 years now, shouldn’t you be used to it now?” You ask. “It doesn’t make it any less traumatizing.” Calum speaks up. “Shut up, we’re in love.” Ashton dramatically says as we enter into the dressing room. “Don’t we know it.” Michael sighs and sits down on the couch. Ashton and you smile at each other, then Ashton kisses your lips before going to the snack table.

10

The new HigglyTown Heroes looks great.

Jesse should have thought about another way to tell Genji that his brother is his boyfriend. Well now it is too late :)

Hope you enjoyed that, it was the forst time I tried to draw these Characters.

Below is the comic without text!

Keep reading

3

Celebrating Our Seventh Birthday

We’re always inspired by the ways community members make Instagram’s look come to life. Follow along on the #myinstagramlogo hashtag page and add your own ideas.

Today, we’re celebrating Instagram’s seventh birthday with these #myinstagramlogo creations from Marie Saba (@mariesaba), Khodayar Ahi (@godyar) and Rafael Morales Hernández (@srtrastorno). As Instagram continues to evolve and grow, we’re constantly amazed by the creativity of our diverse and inspiring community. Thanks for being you. ❤️

anonymous asked:

Tried to do a google search, came up with mostly anti-antifa articles. I want to learn more about antifa, the history, etc. Any suggestions?

Your google fu does not impress us.  Here are some ideas:


1) Did you try googling the #original antifa hashtag?  Because we did and here’s what we came up with!

2) Did you check out The Bottled Wasp Diary?  This project by Brighton ABC is full of history & facts about radical movements and the 2015 edition was devoted to the international struggle against fascism.  

3) Have you read any of these recent & decent books on antifa?

Militant Anti-Fascism: A Hundred Years Of Resistance by M. Testa

Against The Fascist Creep by Alexander Reid Ross

Antifa: The Anti-Fascist Handbook by Mark Bray 

That should be enough to get you going on the right path.  Happy reading!