these past four years

anonymous asked:

JLM trying to separate Grant and Candice in the dancing video. 💀 They were just tryna be their free selves yesterday but everyone was like "nah G's gonna get his ass beat when he gets home so let's stop him".

Such progression with Grandice in the SDCC for the past four years. And GG keeps getting messier and messier each year, too.

  • Gorillaz during the past seven years: ...
  • Gorillaz during the past seven days: SINGLES! FOUR NEW FUCKING SINGLES! WITH ART !!! SIX MINUTE 360° MUSIC VIDEO!!! AUTOBIOGRAPHIES!!! ART BOOK!!! VINYLS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 26 TRACKS!!!! ART PREVIEWS!!! INTERVIEWS WITH DAMON!!!! REMIXES!!!! KATSU!!! 2D HAS STOCKHOLM'S!!! RUSSEL HAS PARANOIA!!! NOODLE WAS JEALOUS OF CYBORG!!! MURDOC.. STUFF!!! L E A K S!!!! MAGAZINE COVER!!!! ALBUM DATE!!! ALBUM COVER!!! NOODLE LIKES HAMSTER AND CAT BUTTS!!!! NEW SCRIPT WRITER!!!! MORE ART!!!!!!!! SECRET LIVE SHOW!!! FESTIVALS!!!! DEMON DAYZ!!! S P I R I T H O U S E!!!! AUGMENTED REALITY APP!!! THE BATH!!!!

everdeenns  asked:

IM SO JEALOUS YOU GOT TO MEET BEN PLATT PLS TELL ME ABOUT HIM

He’s the sweetest guy in the world. Like, he’s honestly and truly just as humble and personable as he seems. I’ve met him a number of times before cause I’ve seen the show so much. After the Tony’s, he spotted me, and rushed over to give me a hug and he was just so happy. I was so happy for him! For that performance he’s given these past four years, the award was so well-deserved.

honestly nothing is better than having a day to yourself where you’re free to stim constantly and submerge yourself in whatever your special interest is like this is the ultimate form of healing

So, the time has come where I have decided to share my hidden Nashcon 2016 Cockles photo op with everyone.

Why did I wait so long? Because I told myself, as a silent promise to Jensen and Misha, I was going to wait one year from the day, before I share it, even though Misha said to share it initially. Haha. Anyway, it’s been four months past the year mark, and I have decided to finally unveil the photo, I know it might garnish some stuff from haters, and I might be called “disrespectful”, however I ask everyone to read below first, on how my situation went down with receiving the photo, and then cast your opinions.

 So, I am waiting in the photo op line nervous as all hell haha, I keep the front of the book hidden the entire time, just patiently and nervously waiting. The book I held in my hands was “The Threesome Handbook”, by Vicki Vantoch (For those who don’t know who she is, she’s the amazing woman married to Misha!!). I’ve had the idea in my mind for nearly a year on how funny it would be to take a photo of the three of us reading it, I could imagine Jensen’s “what the hell position is that?!” Face, I can imagine Misha’s mischevious intrigued face, and then I would just be there looking like a dork, haha, either way, it was a year’s idea in the making. So the time has come and here i am shaking with my book…When it is my turn…I walk up to them…I immediately went to Jensen first because above anyone else, I wanted to get his Blessing for the photo, I didn’t want him to do it if he was not comfortable with it, and I was perfectly fine if he would have declined…So, I’m right in front of Jensen and I say “I completely understand if you don’t want to do this but, if not, it’s okay, but can we do something with this?” I showed him the book Misha’s wife wrote “The Threesome Handbook”, and he was like “With this?” He replied with like a shocked laugh as he pointed at the book, I laughed a bit in embarrassment…Then at this moment Misha comes over to the two of us, he sees the book and giggles as he grabs it, Misha being amused at the sight of the book, all I could do is look on in embarrassment and nervously laugh. At this point however, Jensen’s handler came up right away and was like “ Nope. No. No.” And she snatched the book out of Misha’s hand. So he was like “Oh Well” with a shrug kinda look then I was like “Oh well”, I knew at that point it was the risk of asking, so I didn’t mind. So I turned to Misha and Jensen and was like “Hugs then?” So we did a hug picture. The bliss and awesomeness of being between those two, still sends shivers down my spine. Forgive the capital letters but this was the exciting part…after the picture I THEN HUGGED THEM BOTH AND SAID THANK YOU, THEN THE HANDLER GAVE THE BOOK BACK TO ME. I WAS READY TO WALK AWAY WHEN MISHA GRABBED MY HAND, PULLED ME CLOSE TO HIM AND TOLD THE PHOTOGRAPHER TO TAKE ANOTHER. SO MISHA HUGGED ME WHILE WE HELD THE BOOK AND JENSEN GAVE HIS LIKE “WHAT?!” FACE. I WAS IN SHOCK!!!! SO ALL I HAD ENOUGH REACTION TIME FOR WAS TO MAKE A DORKY LOOKING “Idk, worth a shot” SUGGESTIVE FACE.


It happened so quick…I was not expecting it at all…After the picture all I could do was happily give Misha another hug, and just mutter “Thank you thank Misha”, I gave Jensen one more quick one and kinda high tailed it out of the room shaking.

Now…I was absolutely happy, and just speechless, I had two ops, the op I wanted to do, and I spent more time with them. The thing is though…After some time…I felt bad…because I wasn’t sure if Jensen was upset…or kinda just disappointed, because I felt maybe he didn’t want to do it and it was forced, as much as I appreciate it…To confirm, I decided to apologise to him when I got my autograph…The stressful part of it all, was the timing…See…I had to wait for the pictures to print, I wanted to grab it right away because I know sometimes people take photos of other people’s pictures, and I didn’t want this to get out by someone else’s hand. The thing is Jensen was then signing autographs in the same time…So, I was pacing back and forth from the picture table and the autograph hall to see how the lines were, just as it seemed like autographs were almost over, as they called my row many minutes before, the pictures were put out. LUCKILY I received my picture and I was able to make the line for Jensen, photo hidden. So again I nervously wait in line, when I got to him in line, he recognized me and said “Hey you” and smiled, and of course I was like “Hi” *giggles* and then I said “Jensen I’m really sorry about the book photo op”. He smiled and was like “ah, it’s no problem at all” And I said “Okay I just wanted to make sure you know I didn’t mean anything bad by it” and he said “Don’t worry about it, it’s perfectly fine”. I apologized to his handler also and she said “ Its okay honey, I’m not mad about it” and they both said you have a good night and pretty much don’t worry. So *SIGH OF RELIEF*

Got my autograph and his Blessing!! However me being me, I wanted security…So…To Make sure…When I got my Misha autograph, I walk up to Misha with items in hand to get signed.


Misha: “Oh hey it’s you, how are you?”


Me: “I’m good thank you, how are you?”


Misha: “I’m good, I’m good, are you having fun?


Me: “Yeah, it’s been really great”


*Misha begins to sign my items*


Me: *Nervously* “Can I ask you a question?”


Misha: “Of course go ahead”


Me: “Was Jensen upset with the photo with the book?”


Misha: *smiles, then giggles* “Oh no, he wasn’t upset at all. He would have gone through with it if a certain handler didn’t snatch it away from us”


Me: “Are you sure? I really don’t want him to be upset, I just didn’t think it’d be bad”


Misha: “No, don’t worry about it at all, he wasn’t upset” *Misha hands back items*


Me: “Okay, thank you Misha, thank you. You have a great night” *I say while gathering my stuff*


Misha: “You’re welcome. You too” *Misha smiles*


*I turn to walk away when Misha says to me*


Misha: “Don’t give it a second thought”


I respond by just smiling and saying a relieved “Okay”, and then I turn and head out to the hall.

So…This is that photo, from my amazing Nashcon 2016 time…I hope those viewing, find the humor in it as much as I do…If you’re gonna share it, please just attach this story with it, so people know, that yes while some might find it tasteless, it was done with a calculated understanding of the actor’s feelings behind taking the photo and not without asking their personal consent for it first, the events that unfolded from it, were not expected and were out of my hands, just as well I finally want to thank Misha and Jensen and just as well, Jared!! (Though they may not ever read this haha) for everything they’re do for the fans, it was a great time and is now a hell of a story I can add to my life of events. Everyone else…enjoy. :)


AO3 DragonKitten22
Tumblr Darkhorse2231

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)

I’m just tired, man. Like there’s so much angry and negativity in the world, and the one safe place I had for the last few years, the place where I found strength to get out of a really bad situation in my life, is gone. Poof.

Maybe I’m being over-dramatic, God knows I am so often, but this one took a lot from me. 

Look. Felix (Pewdiepie) made a mistake, he thought his little “joke” was comedy, but as someone who’s been studying comedy for the past four fucking years, racism is not comedy. If you’re gonna target a group of people for the sake of a joke, you make damn sure they deserve it. Jewish people do not deserve it. Saying “death to” a group of people who have had the fucking shit kicked out of them for centuries is not fucking funny. It’s sad and, quite honestly, lazy. What pisses me off is that instead of 100% owning up to it, he’s trying to write it off as a “joke gone wrong.” Buddy. Admit you fucked up big time. Admit the joke was not funny and that it wasn’t humor. It was not comedy. By calling it comedy, you offend people who pour their heart and soul into making the masses laugh and feel good. 

And then, major Youtubers backed him up, saying he’s “just being himself.” People like Markiplier, Jacksepticeye, Lordminion777, all people who in the past have supported love and acceptance. People who I’ve looked up to for years. Hell, I’d go as far to say Mark was an idol of mine. However, they all backed up someone who is too much of a coward and too into himself to admit he made a mistake. 

As someone who really admired these people, I’m hurt as hell. 

As someone who’s studied communications and public relations for the last four years, I’m pissed off as fuck. You wanna support him? Fine. But don’t try to step back from repercussions of doing so. You went into this mess, you STAY in. Pewdiepie landed himself in hot water and by supporting him just being his wacky ol’ self, you jumped right in too. I understand standing up for a friend, but if my friend went and pulled some shit like that? You bet your ass I’m calling them out. To pull from Harry Potter books, if Neville Longbottom can stand up to his friends, so can you.

To conclude, jokes about killing minorities isn’t comedy. If you try to use them for comedy, you’re lazy and you’re pretty pathetic. Pewdiepie is a grown adult, and needs to be held accountable for his actions.       

shades of wrong (m)

Summary: In which you’re sure you’ll hate Park Jimin with every fiber of your being for the rest of your existence, even after he is assigned your tutor for History of Magic.
Pairing: Jimin | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Smut; Harry Potter AU 
Word Count: 17,321
Author’s Note: This got insanely long, and I apologize but also not really. Inspired by @jeonbegins + her really dope HP Slytherin Jimin AU edit. I also had a little conversation with @minsvga about this and she helped me figured out the basic idea for what this story has become; and @chokemejimin has asked to be tagged in my HP work so here you go my dear!!!

.

No matter how hard you try, it seems as if you are always bested by Park Jimin in every aspect of life: from Quidditch to school to class popularity.

And you absolutely despise him for it.

Granted, it’s probably because he’s always simply excelled in everything while you could only manage the minimum requirement for things outside of the sport you’ve grown to be so passionate about—but that’s only deepened your dislike for the boy. It’s been like this since the pair of you were children, a rivalry already planted between you even before you knew what the term meant. Truthfully, it was pretty much written in the stars that you would develop some deep-rooted grudge against Jimin, for he was organized into Slytherin while you were put in the fiery red and gold of Gryffindor.

Beyond the clashing Houses that have officially formed your backgrounds, it doesn’t help that the boy has seemed to uphold a particular interest in doing whatever he could to see you fidget or watch you squirm or just catch you at your worst moments—although you humor yourself on the idea that these unfortunate incidents occur to you because of Park Jimin’s constant hovering. It’s a habit that’s grown since the first week of your admission into Hogwarts, in which your big mouth scored you your first detention with the infamous Professor Snape.

It’s a moment that marks the beginning of an unspoken battle between the pair of you—in which you would constantly attempt to prove yourself better than Park Jimin and Park Jimin doing everything he could to make sure you could never have that victory. During the first two years of school, this would mean beating you on every exam, knowing the answers to every question and teasing you for not knowing. Professors putting Jimin on a pedestal, marking him up as the ‘ideal student’ and unknowingly intensifying the dagger of hatred you wished to plunge deeper and deeper into his chest.

When you are twelve, you are told that there is certainly no way for you to truly despise of something (or someone)—for you are young and naive and not entirely capable to understand what it means to hate something with every fiber of your being.

But they’re wrong.

Keep reading

A few months ago, I was sent what was some of the most generous sterek give away prizes from @cobrilee and after screaming for a solid five hours (I’m only kind of exaggerating) upon receiving them, I came to the conclusion had no idea how to convey how grateful I was to her. Since Bri is a fellow Sterek writer, however, I thought the least I could do was make a post promoting some of her (many) works. You can find all of her fics either here or here.  

And now, without further adieu!

Don’t Know What You’ve Got (‘Til It’s Gone) by Cobrilee

For once, Derek would like for his pack to appreciate him, to treat him like he’s their alpha. When life gives him exactly what he wants, Derek finds himself in an alternate universe where he’s a badass alpha, and he realizes maybe he doesn’t want it as much as he thought he did. The whole, “the grass is always greener” adage, as Stiles would say.

Speaking of Stiles… Apparently in this new world they’re mates. He’s starting to think he likes it here after all.

Smooth Like Your Face by Cobrilee for eeyore9990

Derek is so used to Stiles hitting on him with horribly cheesy pick-up lines, he doesn’t realize that maybe Stiles means them. Luckily, Boyd does.

In Your Eyes by Cobrilee

Stiles has been drawing his soulmate since he was six years old. He could never imagine how his life would turn upside before he could meet the guy, or how meeting him would make it all make sense again. Just not at first.

The Road Less Traveled by Cobrilee

The thought is, the soul mark is ambiguous so people feel like they have a choice in who they fall in love with. Stiles thinks it’s to torture him. Derek thinks it means nothing.

Then they meet each other, and realize they’re both wrong.

You’re Home by Cobrilee

Derek comes back home, but he’s not quite himself. Five minutes with Stiles and it’s like he never left. (Okay, with one small change.)

I Knew I Loved You Before I Met You by Cobrilee

One love letter from Stiles starts off a chain of events that changes Derek’s life. Funny enough, the letter wasn’t even for him. He just stole it and fell in love.

Starting At the End by Cobrilee for clotpolesonly

After graduating college and quitting his amateur porn gig to move back to Beacon Hills and join the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Office, Stiles discovers that the man he never quite left behind is now a… fan. Leave it to the two of them to start at the end.

Undercover K9 by Cobrilee

As it usually goes, Derek acts before he thinks. This time he has a good reason, though-it’s all Stiles’ fault. Mostly.

Or, that time when Derek volunteered to spend all his spare time as a wolf with the Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Office K9 Unit, just to protect Stiles’ dumb ass.

Message Received by Cobrilee for eeyore9990

Four years past an alternate ending of season two, Derek and Stiles are still… Well, Derek and Stiles. Only now they flirt. Okay, Stiles flirts. And Derek is completely okay with that.

Bee Mine by Cobrilee

Stiles and Derek are mortal enemies; at least, Derek is Stiles’ mortal enemy. It starts with pink hair, there’s a lot of honey in the middle, and it ends with a bee-youtiful card.  (This is a special favourite of mine.)

Thank you again, Bri. Not just for all the sterek decorating my room now, but for all the fics you bless our fandom with. 

@zacharyquinto: i can’t stop thinking about how much you’ve evolved and expanded these past four years. how easily you’ve stepped into yourself with powerful intuition and confidence. watching you grow is one of my greatest pleasures and learning from you is one of the greatest gifts. your beauty is unparalleled - inside and out. your inherent goodness is a constant inspiration. and your wisdom is beautifully humbling. saturn returns to carry you into your full potential with power and limitless possibility. i cannot wait to watch you embrace it all. i love you so much. happy birthday my love @milesmcmillan

“Today Jin-Hyung graduated from his university, but he couldn’t go to the graduation ceremony. So knowing his personality he’s probably very upset… even though he’s pretending like he’s not” - Jimin

Important info

3

You were a most capable partner, but I’ll be killing you here.  The work you’ve done for Baroque Works these past four years was invaluable thanks to your intellect and leadership.  For me that was enough.  You were a highly useful woman.  However, at the very end you broke your promise to me!  The poneglyph of this country failed to give me any leads on Pluton!  But I harbor not even the slightest ounce of anger towards you.  Do you know why, Nico Robin?

The Nanny

A/N: I know, a new series. But I just needed a new idea. Anyways this is the first part to what I’m hoping to be a 6 part series. Let me know what you guys think

Word count: 2,000 something words

Warnings: Mentions of a house fire, minor death not graphic

Summary: When Bucky Barnes hired a Nanny, he thought he was going to hire someone to take care of the kid. But when she starts, he knows that she is more than just a Nanny

The Nanny MasterList

“Looking for a full time Nanny. Must be able to work late and be able to take care of both a kid and a dog. I am willing to provide a room for you to sleep in. In interested please Email me your resume at jbbarnes6412@gmail.com

Thank you,
J. Barnes”

As you read what seemed like the millionth job ad, you copied the listed email address into the empty email box.

Dear Mr. Barnes,
Below I have attached my resume. I hope I am a good fit for what you are looking for. My hours are flexible and I love dogs almost as much as I love kids.

Sincerely,
Y/N Y/L/N

Keep reading

the gym I’ve been going to for like the past four years has closed and I’m super bummed about that so here’s another self-indulgent TPoH/Duckverse crossover doodle because drawing is better than moping >:T

10

Ever since father died… A small dark part of me has blamed you for his death. When they told me what happened at Fort William, that Randall flogged ye himself, and that seeing that is what killed father, I thought you must have done something to bring it upon yerself. Shot yer mouth off, or acted without thinking of the consequences, as ye have done all yer life. But then out at the mill pond, when I saw the scars on yer back, scars made by a lash laid down with such fury… It was me. It’s my fault that Randall beat ye so. That day… That day when Randall came here, when he took me upstairs… If I hadn’t mocked him that way, if I… if I’d given him what he wanted he wouldn’t have treated you like he did. And then father… I did anger Randall at Fort William, and I’ve spent the past four years of my life blaming myself for father’s death because of it. But now ye know better? Aye, I do.

anonymous requested: outlander + favourite familial relationship

The Fourth Musketeer (Part 3)

Originally posted by bettytail

Part one here    Part two here

Requests: I love part 1 and 2 of The Fourth Musketeer!! Are you going to make a part 3?

Part 3 pls? For the four musketeers I’m really loving it.

WHERE IS FOURTH MUSKETEER PART 3 IM DYING TO KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT

Ahhhhhhhhh, The fourth Musketeer series is sooooo good 😍😍 I can’t wait for part 3 😭💕

I need part 3 of 4m please

OMFG I NEED A PART 3 OF THE 4 MUSKETEERS !.!! Its SOO AMAZING

OMG I just read the second part of the Fourth Musketeer. It’s amazing!!! I already want more! Love your work darling ❤❤

More fourth musketeer please god 💖🙏

Part 3 of the Four Musketeers PLEASE, it’s so freaking good. It makes me feel all the feels and I’m in love with your writing

Pairing: Archie x Reader

Description: Unplanned reunions never end well.

Warnings: I cried while writing this

Word count: 1,536

A/N: just a reminder to all, if you want to be added to my taglist please ask in my ask box! anywho wowow buckle your seatbelts for the emotional roller coaster that is part 3!! enjoy!!


(Y/N) obliviously stood at the counter in Pop’s, unaware of three sets of unwavering eyes staring at her.

“Should we… say something?” Betty suggested, but she didn’t shift her gaze from (Y/N).

“I don’t know,” Veronica breathed.  "I probably shouldn’t since she has no idea who I am.“

"I’ll do it,” Jughead stated.  Before Veronica or Betty could acknowledge what he said, Jughead had stood up and began to walk towards (Y/N).  The two girls shared a tentative glance.  "Long time no see, (Y/N),“ Jughead said from behind her.  She whirled around.

"Jughead,” she acknowledged him, her lips forming an awkward smile.  "It’s… nice to see you.“

"God it’s been so long,” Jughead sighed, stepping closer to (Y/N).  She tried to inconspicuously edge away.

“Yeah,” she nodded and pursed her lips.  Jughead was taken aback by her cold behavior.

“Does anyone else know you’re here?” he questioned.  (Y/N) shook her head.

“Nope,” she answered simply, “just you.”

“And Betty,” Jughead added, gesturing back to where Veronica and Betty were sitting.  When they noticed (Y/N) was looking at them, they smiled and waved. (Y/N)’s focus turned back to Jughead.

“Who’s that with her?” she asked.

“Veronica,” he explained, “she moved here at the beginning of the year.”

“That’s nice,” another awkward smile formed on her lips.  Suddenly, a waiter brought out a bag of food.  (Y/N) grabbed the bag and quickly paid.  "Well, I’ve gotta get going. It’s been nice seeing you again, Jughead.“  She started to exit the diner, but Jughead quickly snatched her wrist.

"Wait!” he said, earning a questioning look from her.  "What about Archie?“

"What about Archie?” (Y/N) innocently repeated.  Jughead rolled his eyes.

“You know,” he responded, “are you going to tell him you’re back?”

“Why should I?” (Y/N) scoffed.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because he’s fucking smitten with you and has been heartbroken for the past two years.  And if I’m not mistaken, you were pretty smitten yourself before you moved.” (Y/N) bit her lip as she shook her head.

“If he loved me, he would’ve called,” she rolled her eyes.

“What happened to you?” Jughead asked, scanning her face.  (Y/N) snapped her wrist out of his grip.

“Nothing happened, Jughead.”

“There’s another thing,” he noted.  "Since when have you called me Jughead?“

"My food is getting cold,” she made up an excuse.

“Archie said you changed your number.”  The sentence knocked the wind out of (Y/N), so she stood in silence as she stared at Jughead.

“I changed it,” she finally admitted it. “But that was a few months after I left.”

“Why?” he inquired.

“Because he didn’t call me,” she sighed.  "Even when I called him, he wouldn’t answer.“  Jughead furrowed his eyebrows.  (Y/N) shook her head as she left the diner.

She called over her shoulder, "Don’t tell Archie I’m back.”


“She expects you to not tell him?” Veronica questioned the next day at school.  Jughead shrugged.

“But I get it, you know?” Betty responded.  “She wants to be the one to tell him she’s back, not have someone do it on her behalf.”

“If she tells him,” Veronica reminded her.

“Listen, just… don’t tell him, okay?” Jughead told Veronica.  “I told (Y/N) I wouldn’t, and I don’t want to upset her.  She seemed kinda off yesterday.”

“So she’s not normally like that?” Veronica questioned with a hint of sarcasm.  Jughead rolled his eyes.

“Not when I knew her.”


“Okay, so (Y/N)’s gotta have some flaws, right?” Veronica asked Archie as she sat across from him in the lounge.  He narrowed his eyes.

“What?” he confusedly mumbled.  “Why are you asking about (Y/N)?”

“Well, Archiekins,” Veronica bit her lip, “you’ve seemed more down ever since Jughead’s party.  I figured it was something having to do with (Y/N).  I’m asking you about her flaws because right now, it seems like you’re kind of glorifying her in your memories, you know?  Since she hasn’t been around, you only want to remember the good parts of her.”

“I don’t know,” Archie waved off her suggestion.  “I really don’t want to talk about her.”

“But you have to,” Veronica immediately replied.  “Betty, Jughead, and Kevin told me about her and how you absolutely refused to mention her after she moved.”

“It’s a coping method,” he defended himself.  She shook her head.

“It’s unhealthy.”

“Veronica, stop!” Archie yelled, exasperatedly throwing his hands up in the air.  “You know why I can’t tell you any of (Y/N)’s flaws?  Because I love her.  And when you love someone, when you truly love someone, their flaws aren’t something you notice.  Their flaws are just another cute quirk that you adore, and I love everything there is about (Y/N).”  A smile creeped onto Veronica’s face, causing Archie to twist his face into a puzzled expression.  “What?”

“You love her,” she grinned, but Archie remained confused. “You love her, Archiekins.  Not loved, love.”  Archie rolled his eyes, but it didn’t hide his growing smile. Veronica stood up, brushing down her pencil skirt.  “My job here is done.  Keep an eye on your phone, Archiekins.  I’m gonna send you a very important message soon.”


An extremely confused Archie walked into Pop’s, and he continued to double check the text that Veronica sent him:

Go to Pop’s tonight.  Trust me.

She said nothing about meeting her there, nor did she mention anything about what he was supposed to do at the diner.  He scanned the area, searching for a familiar face.  His eyes landed on a face that was more familiar than he expected.

“(Y/N)?” he whispered, staring at the girl sitting all alone in a booth.  She, having not heard Archie’s murmur, continued to stare at her phone. “(Y/N)!”  Archie said it louder this time, and (Y/N)’s head snapped up. Her eyes doubled in size as she stared at her old childhood friend.  Slowly, she stood up and began to walk towards Archie.

“Archie?” she asked, stepping closer to him with an unreadable expression on her face.  He grinned and nodded.

“Oh god, (Y/N), I thought I’d never see you again.  I thought that-” A sharp slap across his face interrupted him.  Archie’s mouth opened slightly ajar as he stared at (Y/N), subdued into shock.

“Fuck you, Archie,” she spat.  Archie noticed tears glimmering in her eyes.  “No calls, no texts, no emails, nothing!  Absolutely nothing!”

“(Y/N), I-”

“And you act like you’re the victim,” she interrupted him, refusing to grant him the chance to defend himself.  “You told Jughead and Betty that I changed my number?  And you didn’t mention that I called you countless times, only for you to never answer.”

“(Y/N), I’m sorry,” he apologized, slowly grabbing her hands.  She didn’t tear them away from his grip, but Archie could feel her muscles tense.  “You know why I didn’t answer your calls?  Because it hurt.  It hurt because I thought I’d never see you again, and I thought that if I heard your voice, it would just make the pain worse.  I thought that maybe if I didn’t talk to you, if I pretended like you never existed, then maybe I could move on.”

“You think it didn’t hurt me?” (Y/N) questioned, her voice cracking as she held back her tears.  “You think it didn’t hurt every time I called my best friend but never got an answer?  You think it didn’t hurt when I was alone with my parents in a big city with no one to turn to?  You think it didn’t hurt when I couldn’t call for help when I needed it?”  Her voice gradually raised as she spoke.  Archie released (Y/N)’s hands, and instead, he opted to cup her face.  He leaned in and did something he had been dying to do for the past four years: he kissed her.  Archie tried to pour every ounce of love he had for (Y/N) into the kiss, he tried to tell her the things he was unable to say.  However, (Y/N) pulled away.  She took a step away from Archie as she frowned at him, her tears finally stumbling down her face.

“Why did you do that?” she cried softly.

“Because I love you,” Archie desperately answered.  He attempted to reach out towards her and hold her in his arms, but (Y/N) stepped further away.  “I love you, and I have always loved you.  I never got the chance to tell you.”

“You can’t do that to me,” she tried to wipe away her tears, but they were flowing too quickly.  “You can’t just barge in here and confess your love after you completely ignored me!”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N), it was stupid and selfish of me, but-”

“But nothing!” she stopped his apology.  (Y/N) brushed past Archie as she began to storm out of the diner, but before she could exit, Archie grabbed her wrist, forcing her to turn around.

“One thing, (Y/N). Can you please just answer one question for me?” he begged.  (Y/N) pursed her lips but nodded.  “Do you love me?”

“Archie, you can’t just-”

“Please, (Y/N),” his voice was meek and desperate.  She sighed, but slowly nodded.

“Of course,” she whispered. She gently wriggled her hand out of his grasp and exited the diner, leaving a heartbroken Archie behind.

Part four here     Part five here

Keep reading