#third of all this attitude is so entitled and rude?

[trafficblrpositivityproject]

some people on here don't need positivity asks. popular artists and writers for example. they get enough love, show love to smaller creators instead

Hello anon! You seem confused about how this blog works. Since it seems you are not aware, this is a submission-based blog! (✨0✨) Any person can submit anyone else, regardless of how "popular" that person is. The submission button is in fact the same button you hit to send me this unfortunate and rude ask!

I assume you are not aware of this, as this ask is the only ask you sent me. No other asks, on or off anon, came in alongside this ask. Especially not any asks sending in positivity for small creators, who you claim to be concerned about. But that cannot be right, because if that were true, I would have to conclude you do not actually care about small creators at all, and only want to complain about popular creators getting positivity, which would be not very nice!

Oh, and another thing. One of this blog's only rules is to not put down one member of this fandom in order to uplift another. I assume you did not read the rules in my description, since you did not know I am submission based, so I thought I would let you know!

Ah, but actually though.

"Popular" writers and artists are in fact also people who work hard and provide the fandom with amazing works. There are a lot of popular artists and writers whose work I genuinely admire, and I am happy to use this space to express this admiration. They deserve appreciation for what they do, and as long as people are willing to submit them, I am going to post them.

(Additionally, on an entirely practical level, who am I to decide when someone is "too popular" to be posted? I cannot see anyone's follower counts. This is in fact a main feature of tumblr. Would I just be going by guess? This seems an inefficient system.) (Not that I think you care about this. I assume you have a specific list of users in your head that you, personally, subjectively, do not like, and you want me to adhere to it for your petty grudge.)

One of the many, many reasons I started this blog was in response to how certain people use confessions blogs, where I saw space for people to post anons about how they disliked popular artists and writers, such as how they hated a certain person's art or writing style, often specifying those people by name on anon to a blog with many many followers, where that person will unfortunately see it.

Another of the many, many reasons I started this blog is for my friends who are on the more popular end of the fandom, and how people treat them directly. What they have shown me of their inboxes is nightmarish, with people being rude, entitled, or cruel, simply because they assume that people's humanity does not count after a certain amount of followers. And, in the interest of full disclosure, though I am not extraordinarily popular on my main account, I have gotten my own share of nightmare anons as well.

A third of the many, many reasons I started this blog is because I have seen tumblr users post about other tumblr users by name and how they do not like their art/writing/creations, do not think they deserve their success or support, or simply do not like them without ever even meeting them. They will then post those uncaring words in those user's tumblr tags, again where those people will see them.

All of this made me very sad, because it seemed like somewhere along the way, people seemed to forget those artists and writers are people. Being popular (or perceived as popular) in fandom comes with many benefits, this is true, but it also emboldens the absolute worst members of fandom to be cruel to people they think are an acceptable target.

None of this sort of attitude makes fandom a fun place to be. Fandom is meant to be a community, based in mutual love for the same story. It is meant for making art, or writing, or cosplay, or songs, or other creations. It is made for sharing those creations with strangers who love the same thing you do, and sharing excitement and passion with other fans. It is meant for making friends. It is made out of, and meant for, love. Fandom is not only made worthwhile, but kept alive, through our support for one another.

You may think me a popular artist/writer dick-rider for acknowledging the humanity and fandom contributions of popular creators. I do not mind. I am sorry for you that simply believing people should be kind to one another, or that artists and writers should be recognized for their hard work, is so skewed in your head. I will not apologize for being kind to people, or for providing a space for kindness.

Do not mistake my existence as a positivity blog for me being a pushover. I will absolutely not tolerate any of this sort of attitude on this blog. This is a blog based in kindness, and I will shut down any asks which aim to sow any sort of rudeness.

If you actually care about small creators, be the change you want to see. Submit small creators. I am literally constantly begging for submissions, and I would love for people to submit any and all creators, big or small. I myself have submitted plenty of anons about small creators to my own blog. One of the best parts of this blog is learning about lots of creators I would not have known about before because you all submit small folks. Our support for each other is not just fandom at its best. It is what fandom is for.

All this said. Do not be hateful slime in my inbox again. I do not want to block you, because I think you, too, deserve positivity, if you receive it. But I will block you if you persist. Thank you.

[beneathashadytree]

HEY GUYS! LONG POST HERE, BUT PLEASE READ🙏🏽

I am genuinely appalled by the discourse ongoing in the LNDS fandom these past few days—but above all, I am severely disappointed in what had started out as one of the most inclusive and sweet fandoms I’ve ever been in. I have a few things to say, so in this post I’m trying to put all my thoughts to words. Apologies if I sound harsh, but I’m genuinely livid. Also, please ignore any typos. I’m not wearing my glasses while word-vomiting.

First off, for a fandom that is composed of mostly adults, you guys have been acting terribly childishly. It’s 2024, and yet people are still unironically shaming others for “switching up on their favs” as if a person owes 2D characters any loyalty. Let people enjoy things. The novelty of Sylus and how he’s quite literally 6 months behind the other 3 love interests makes people want to catch up on the enjoyment of him all at once. He’s still such a brand new character and concept, so there’s no wonder everyone’s hyped up over him.

I’ve seen people get genuinely mad at other players and writing whole think-pieces about this. I promise you guys, the company making this game is still benefiting whether you’re pouring your money into Sylus or any one of the previous 3. We’re all happy to have an interesting character pop up among the roster now, and we’re taking our time getting to know him. Doesn’t make any of the first 3 any less loved. I genuinely don’t remember this amount of nastiness when solo events for each of the guys used to drop.

In fact, if the popularity thing is worrying you, going off MLQC (the company’s past game) the character who was last added was—eventually, after the initial hype died down—kicked off to the sidelines in most major events and was given the least content, and was the least favorite of fans.

Secondly, and this has my blood boiling, there is an insane amount of entitlement and rudeness I’ve seen on my timeline concerning how people characterize the men—particularly Rafayel.

Absolutely nothing warrants this shitty attitude towards other creators for how they depict characters in their fics. It seems you guys feel protected behind a screen and think it gives you the right to bully strangers online. Fanfiction is for fantasizing about your favs; for letting your imagination run wild. If this were a character analysis, then yes, maybe I’d agree that inaccuracies are aggravating. However, in fanfiction, there are zero rules, especially when it comes to smut.

Sexual preferences are not equivalent to a person’s whole personality—so whether he’s written as a dom, a sub, a switch, or whatever the fuck you wanna call it, this has nothing to do with his kindness, gentlemanliness, passion, power, ruthlessness, snark, or whatever minuscule aspect of his character makes up his lovely whole and matters to you.

I think this circles back to a lack of ability to separate sexual matters and personality, because how else do people interpret fics depicting him in a certain manner as them erasing his character? They might overlap, but they can very well be mutually exclusive. I’ve seen incredibly sweet and gentle men irl who were absolute doms in bed, and I’ve seen powerful and passionate men who were reduced to tears between the sheets. There is barely any correlation whatsoever, and if anything, claiming otherwise is what I consider piss-poor media literacy and reading-comprehension.

My third point is that for some reason, there have been many, many posts and replies on here where I’ve seen people just straight-up spread pure hate for the characters. Maybe this bothered me in particular because I’m an OT3 (OT4 now!) and absolutely adore all of them, but I find no logical reason for “yucking someone’s yum” when we’re talking about liking the characters of an Otome game—a genre of video games which is made to literally cater to the tastes of as many people as possible.

It’s especially disheartening to see when it’s at a time like this, when new content is about to drop, and you find in the replies of every other post/discussion at least a few people spewing hate and disgust at Sylus. Again, so many people are incredibly excited about him. Why is there a need to rain on everyone’s parade, especially in such an unsolicited manner?

This fandom originally started as a safe space for people of all races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, and personalities to bond over our mutual love for characters. All I’ve seen on my TL lately (in terms of discussion) is negativity, and it’s such a fucking let-down. I hope whatever the fuck has happened to this fandom cools down after a bit. It’s probably exaggerated and very in-your-face rn, cause more and more people are downloading LNDS, so the probabilities of finding people being nasty are increasing. But I seriously don’t want to grow to resent this fandom and find myself distancing myself from it to protect my peace.

Let’s all remember to be kind towards other players, to not act entitled or bratty about the characters, and to try and mind our own business if we see content that doesn’t suit our tastes.

[formulapookie]

Beznaia and 16 <3

16. accidental “I love you” during sex

Bez feels caged between the mattress and Pecco’s body, he’s short of breath with the way they’ve been kissing for the past minutes, and for Pecco getting hard against his thigh.

The hold he has on Bez’s mind is something Bez would very much like to study, because he may be doing whatever, but if Pecco calls him, or if they find themselves at a house party, and Pecco takes him by the hand to drag him in a secluded room Bez answers, rapid, complies to Pecco’s every request, which for the majority of the times is just to be pretty for him and get fucked.

And he loves it.

But he also loves Pecco and Pecco very clearly doesn’t reciprocate the feelings, he’s not one to bond, but Bez is lucky enough to have something that obviously goes beyond normal friendship.

He gets to have Pecco’s hot mouth pressed against his, the desperate whines of the older man moaning in his ears when he’s close, the harsh pace of his thrusts and the kind aftercare.

He gets to have his jealousy, his lust and need.

He gets to have Pecco be nice and soft or absolutely rough and sharp when he needs one of the two versions of him.

He gets to moan Pecco’s name covered by the sheets of his bed, gets to scream his name when they’re far from everyone and they can do this not caring about who can hear them.

Gets also to be like this, back against the soft mattress in a random hotel room they got just to fuck and Pecco biting at his neck, slowly making his way down to his pierced nipple.

Pecco likes teasing him he found out, especially about that fucking jewel.

“Pecco ah - just fuck me”

“And where would the fun be in that? I wouldn’t hear your pretty little whimpers when I do this”

And the bastard picks at the nipple with his teeth, making Bez cry out a moan and cover his mouth with a hand.

“No Bez no covering your sounds you know it, I want to hear you desperate for me”

“Then get on with it and fuck me”

“Oh feeling entitled are we? I’ll have to fuck the attitude out of you then yes?”

Pecco sucks at his nipple, the feeling of metal sliding against the back of his teeth present and heavy.

“Ah fuck you”

“Other way around Marco”

Pecco takes off Bez’s boxers, lifting one of his legs up in the meantime, seeing how affected he already is.

Precum smeared all over his dick, which is hard and of a soft red.

“Pretty”

Bez tries not to see this as a confirmation of feelings, tries so hard to keep his love at bay.

He blinks once and there’s two fingers in front of his mouth, waiting for him to act on his need.

He takes the in, coating them with spit, saliva and arousal.

“Your mouth is made to do this Marco you know? I always have to fight myself not to cum the second i start fucking it”

Once Pecco deems the fingers to be wet enough he takes them out Bez’s mouth and quickly gets them close to his hole.

“Come on”

Pecco pushes in, two fingers, no sweetness in this.

They kiss again, charged with lust, as Pecco fingers him open quick and precise.

The soft whimpers coming from Bez are like a drug to Pecco’s brain, he wants to hear more, always more when it’s Bez.

More kisses, more sex, more touch, more time, more love.

When he adds a third finger they both know it’s not gonna be long before Pecco will finally thrust into Bez and have him moan his name.

“Fu-uck there yes”

Bez is always so sensitive once Pecco has him pinned down, no matter if he hasn’t been fucked in weeks or hours, when he holds him down like this it’s over.

Pecco gets to kiss at the juncture of his neck, demanding, rude.

“Let me- let me ride you” and Bez knows he’s asking for the right thing, Pecco is always so horny for him when he does it, hands running up his waist and hips, mouth against his chest leaving pretty dark bruises all over it.

Pecco lets go of Bez and finds a comfortable position, the other is quick to go sit on his lap, making out messy and rushed, cocks brushing against each other.

“Don’t tease Marco”

“You like it when I tease you”

“I like it when you ride me until you’re stupid from it”

And fuck that shit is hot.

Pecco talking, it’s always been Bez’s favourite thing. Well ok maybe after actually getting fucked stupid by him, but it’s a very strong second place.

He wastes no time in aligning himself with Pecco’s dick and sinking down on it, biting his lower lip to try and quieten down a bit.

But when he feels a strong grip on his jaw and meets Pecco’s eyes, charged with lust, he lets go, letting out the sweet moans Pecco loves so much.

“Look how well you take me”

And Bez just looses it, starts bouncing on his cock moaning louder and louder, he wants Pecco to think only about him, always, like he does.

Wants Pecco to be so desperate for him to go and drag him away from conversations just to fuck him.

“ah it’s so good Pecco fuck so good”

“Don’t stop don’t stop”

And Bez has no intention of doing that, he’s far too horny for this to be over so quickly, and he enjoys seeing Pecco helpless and needy so much.

Pecco’s hands begin to wonder on his hips, drawing imaginary patterns on them, as Bez keeps on with his rhythm and little moans.

As always, Pecco is quick to bury his face in Bez’s chest, kissing and biting at the skin there, leaving a mark just above the pierced nipple he loves to tease so much and moving to suck a hickey on the lower part of Bez’s neck.

It’s the closest thing he got to love, the marking, the claiming.

It’s not the gentle type of love he wishes for but it’s all he got.

“You should see yourself right now Marco, you look so pretty for me, feel so good”

“Tell me again fuck tell me again I’m good please”

Pecco leans in closer to Bez’s ear, sucking another bruise under his jaw.

“You’re so good for me, so fucking good Marco, my good boy”

Bez moans out loud, his movements becoming more irregular as the minutes pass, Pecco knows he’s close now.

It’s a moment of weakness, one second where his brain turns off, just pure pleasure taking over, and he says it, so close to his orgasm it hurts.

“I love you”

Pecco lets go of his neck, Bez can feel his body freezing.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck he ruined it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t - I’m sorry Pecco don’t hate me please I-“

“Say it again”

“What?”

“Say it again, what you said just now”

“I love you?”

There’s a moment of silence, calculations, which to Bez seems to last hours.

Then Pecco’s lips are on his, in a messy but sweet kiss, his hand moving from his hip to Bez’s dick, stroking it fast as Pecco moves to fuck into him that much he needs to come with a grunt inside him, and keeps jerking Bez off until he lets out a high pitched moan and comes over Pecco’s fist, still kissing him.

When Pecco breaks the kiss to get some oxygen his eyes meet those of a confused and surprised Bez, who’s just staring at him with deer-like eyes.

“Why did you - Pecco what does it mean?”

“It means we’re both really fucking stupid and have been really fucking stupid for a while”

“I don’t get it Pecco why did you do that?”

“Ok you’re the stupidest one between in two then, got it”

There’s another moment of pause, Bez is still looking at him helplessly.

“You said you loved me yes?”

“Yeah” Bez blushes up to his ears, a little something Pecco finds incredibly cute.

“And then I kissed you right?”

“I uh yeah you did”

“So?”

“I don’t kno- ooooooh”

Pecco can actually see Bez’s brain working to get the answer out.

“You- Pecco you love me too?”

“Have been doing that for more than a year”

“Mora than a - God we’re stupid”

“I like my men stupid”

Bez blushes again, then tentatively closes the gap between them two.

This time the kiss is soft, not charged or anything, it’s just for them, reassurance, it tastes like a new day.

“Marco”

“Mh?”

“I love you”

And Bez smiles so brightly Pecco could be blinded by it, but he doesn’t care, he just wants to hold and kiss this boy for eternity.

SMUT PROMPTS

[kkatastrophic]

Can you slander Makoto? I hate him too tbh but I rarely saw slander of him

Waited my whole life for this ask /j

Aight let's begin:

He's average, he has no redeeming qualities and could literally be replaced by any character in the franchise.

He has no unique hobbies or interests at all, he would have nothing interesting or fun to talk with you about.

He gets no development throughout the franchise

He got in HPA as the Ultimate Luck but spends his time fucking getting punched and stuff.

He doesn't care about other characters, he didn't care about Taka when he went catatonic, he didn't try to empathise with Leon, he never heard Hiro out in the third chapter, he never says anything to stop people from being rude to Sakura.

All ships with him are super bland and annoying, they don't work because he's so average and boring.

His personality is only put positively, he has NO flaws and I mean NONE. This makes for a bad protagonist because he has no room to improve and that makes him uninteresting to the audience. I would've forgotten about him if he wasn't a placeholder.

He lets characters be mean and bitchy to him (mainly byakuya)

He never trains with Aoi, not even after Sakura dies. SHE WOULD HAVE BEEN TRAINING ALONE GUYS, ALONE!

he's not relatable or realistic at all (tf are "The Meat Teens")

He's super annoying especially around Maizono-Chan

Poorly written and kinda bland

He has the most BASIC VA making him super forgettable, his VA is in every other anime on the planet and so he's easily forgettable.

He did nothing to get granted the title of Ult. Hope???

Average ass design, bro your jacket is BOOORING even Hifumi has a better fit tbh

He has no personality and no FTEs (bc he's a protag) so he seems super 2D compared to the other characters.

He's given too much credit as a protagonist when literally Kyoko does all the work.

Every time he's on screen I cry /hj

I skip his dialouge in UDG bc I can't stand his voice.

Milk Toast kinda guy

His suit design makes him look like an offbrand Fuyuhiko

His "hopeful attitude" is there until Sayaka needs him for support, he never asks further about her issues??? Until Leon needs some empathy for his situation, he goes "YOU MURDERED SAYAKA YOU BAD!!!" he wasn't there when Chihiro had a complex, they could've bonded "hey you may think you're weak but I KNOW I'm average" wasn't there for Mondo to help him in his final moments, wasn't there for Kiyotaka when he didn't even eat. I DID TAKA'S FTES IN CHAPTER 3 AND HE DIDN'T EVEN TRY TO HELP ("..." "..." "..." "Taka and I stood in silence for some time") he doesn't stop Toko and Hiro from calling Sakura ogre, and is scared of her for most of the game even though she's a sweetheart! He never sympathises with Yasuhiro (they were both framed at one point or another). He never helps Aoi after Sakura died, he never hears Toko/Jill out in ANY situation!

He keeps being accused of lying and nobody trusts him (chp.1 trial, chp.5 trial twice - masked figure attack, and his execution-)

He never works for anything, information is always given to him

The cast should've killed him and used his ahoge as a radio antenna to call for help, or connect it to alter-ego and get a radio signal.

A virtually untouchable character

All of his superfans go "He's such a pure innocent baby who did no wrong he's so cool!" but this list exists...

He never had any reason to kill, his motive/secret could've been hella interesting, he could've tried to kill, but we got nothing.

He's dense and any fics with him in it are boring.

Any other character would be a better suited protagonist.

Yeah this isn't the full list but I hope the anon enjoyed the ramble!

This is a hate against Makoto, yes, but this is my opinion, take this as you will. Please refrain from hating because at the end of the day we're all entitled to our beliefs.

[mxtxfanatic]

Hi 👋. Saw your recent take on how fandom interpret MQ. And I would to here your thoughts about him being the tsundere people try to make him out to be.

MQ trying to make it up to XL when really FX was the only one still sincere. I've only read up to vol. 4 and reread vol. 1 and 2 to get a better look at details. But there are some concerning lines that even XL noticed. Like MQ seems excited at the prospect of XL becoming this mass murder during the Guoshi FangXin reveal. Even the first introductions in the book was him mocking XL's helpful nature.

"Mu Qing’s eyes were glimmering, however, and his restrained shock contained a faint underlying excitement." TGCF Vol. 2 chapter 18

"Since his third ascension, there could only be one phrase to describe the way Mu Qing treated him: passive-aggressive. It always felt like he was waiting for Xie Lian to get booted for the third time so he could make snide remarks. Yet now that Xie Lian might actually get booted that third time, he suddenly became pleasant—he even came specially to deliver medication. This complete reversal in attitude made Xie Lian feel quite disconcerted." TGCF Vol.2 chapter 19

Even XL was freaked out by MQ acting nice to him.

"Mu Qing suddenly asked, “Was everything Lang Qianqiu said true? Did you really kill those Yong’an royals?”

Xie Lian looked up and met his gaze. Even if Mu Qing had been forcibly hiding it, Xie Lian still detected a trace of uncontrollable excitement in his eyes. He seemed highly interested in the details of Xie Lian’s massacre at the Gilded Banquet—he followed with another question.

“How did you kill them?” TGCF Vol. 2 chapter 19

And after XL half lied about his involvement.

"Feng Xin paled. Mu Qing loathed that expression of his the most and said in annoyance, “All right, put that face away. After everything, for who are you looking so pained?”" TGCF vol. 2 chapter 19

I'm not reading this wrong to think MQ is just a very entitled b****** that got high on his position of power and is looking down on XL for coming from a place which is lower than what most people would go through? Is it appropriate for me to interpret him being downright hostile and reveling in XL's disgrace? Because the stans take for MQ questionable character is bothering me a lot. He is not some prickly cat with a soft heart. He is sharp thorns all the way inside and a heart colder than most.

Unless something changes in further volumes I haven't read which is unlikely. Considering MXTX penchant for consistent character writing.

Thoughts?

Something does change about Mu Qing’s character near the end of the novel, but it’s just character growth. You aren’t misreading any of his actions in the earlier parts of the story. What kills me is that yes, Mu Qing is a terrible person who is petty and jealous and insecure and thinks that the only problem with hierarchy is that he isn’t at the top, but he changes and people ignore that! In the best interest of not introducing spoilers, I will say that Mu Qing does explicitly, using clear language, acknowledge his mistakes and how wrong he was about how he viewed Xie Lian and his treatment of the other man. He acknowledges this on his own under no threat and with no prompting. And people ignore this because it does not fit into their perception of Mu Qing as either right or at least well-meaning. He is neither of those things. He knows it. Xie Lian knows it. But he can be those things if he puts effort into it, and for all people call me a hater about his character (which, yeah lol), I for one think he tries by the end.

So no, Mu Qing isn’t a tsundere because he’s not being mean or rude or petty to those he loves to hide a mushy middle. He’s doing it because he thinks he is right to and that eventually people will see that he is right. The story does not agree he is right and duly punishes him for his fuckery, and he changes into a better person who is actually nicer to his friends because he wants to be their friends and not their superiors. That’s his character.

[melodygatesauthor]

Sick of people asking me "when", and I'm gonna talk about it...

If you aren't in the headspace for a post more on the "negative" side then don't read this, but I need to say something about this before I lose my fucking MIND.

The entitlement coming from some of my readers has GOT to fucking stop, and I'm so goddamn serious right now. You have me at my fucking limit on what's supposed to be a fun hobby. So here's what's happening, and I'm not going to be nice about it because I'm so fed up I want to cry:

Over the last few days, I've woken up to messages in my inbox that are all being demanding, entitled, and downright fucking RUDE. Some of you saying you're "disappointed" that I haven't updated certain stories or just saying "where is the next update for x story". Fuck the FUCK off okay? (This is in NO WAY directed at the majority of my readers. The majority of you, fortunately, are very kind and leave me such nice comments and I love you *forehead kiss*)

---

First of all, don't you think that if I had the update ready I would post it?

I don't get paid for this (a point that I will be touching on more later, don't you worry.) so my "payment" is the gratification I get from reblogs and comments. If I don't post, I don't get "paid." So just know that I want to post my stories as much as you want to read them. I think I speak for most writers when I say that. I'm not a fucking dragon hording my fucking stories and chapters in google docs and laughing while you all suffer. I have the stories in my head and I'm crying while I suffer because I don't have enough time to get them all out onto paper before you all start turning into nasty little gremlins over them.

Secondly, you demanding asking for more is not encouraging, nor is it motivational.

Again, I think I'm speaking for most writers with this. When you demand or ask for more, THE ONLY THING *taps megaphone* THE ONLY THING you're doing is reminding the writer that they haven't updated and it gives us a little pit in our tummies at our "failures". (a little note to my fellow writers reading this, you're not a failure, but I know it can feel like that when people come into your inbox like this, despite it not being true). "HoW dO i MoTiVaTe A wRiTeR tO uPdAtE mY fAvOrItE sToRy ThEn?" Well you entitled asshole, I'm SO FUCKING GLAD YOU ASKED. (Because that brings me to my next point).

Third, I'd be willing to put the $200 in my savings account and the change at the bottom of my purse on the fact that YOU HAVEN'T EVEN REBLOGGED MY STORIES.

Sorry, feeling called out? Fucking GOOD. I hope your pillows are warm and moist af on both sides when you're trying to sleep because literally if you're coming into my inbox, acting like THIS and then you have the AUDACITY to not even reblog my work? You're one of the worst kinds of people and I wish you nothing but the worst. It's the ONLY thing I ask for in response to my hard work and I'm sure you can't even manage that. You should be embarrassed.

Fourth, let's talk about how much money I make doing this shall we?

$0...I make ZERO DOLLARS and you are talking to me with more of an attitude and entitlement than a Karen in a fucking grocery store during Covid. Get a grip bro. Wanna start paying my bills so I can write fanfiction full time? DO IT, and THEN we can chat about WHEN something isn't getting updated or WHY it didn't get updated. Until then, shut your fucking mouth and enjoy what I put out, or get off my page. I don't care anymore, I'm so done being nice about this.

Fifth, I LITERALLY UPDATE YOU ALL WEEKLY TO LET YOU KNOW WHEN THE FUCK I'LL BE UPDATING WHAT THE HELL!!!!

With the exception of this past week because I've been so goddamn busy, I post a WEEKLY update letting my readers know when I'll be updating something. I have a busy work schedule, and it's summer, so there are lots of things going on in my life right now. I try to help mitigate the questions you have about "when" and "why" by doing this. What makes me annoyed is that you all seem to be on my page, noticing that I'm not updating and getting upset about that, but you don't take the time to look at the fucking information I put out in your face to avoid having to answer the same questions ten fucking times. Omg and for the love of god FOLLOW @melodygatesupdates FOLLOW THAT BLOG RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME. If I have ONE MORE person ask me about my tag list after reading a fic that says "I don't have a taglist anymore so follow @melodygatesupdates" I'm going to lose it.

So here's a blanket statement as to "why" I haven't posted whatever chapter or story you've been waiting for. Pick one of the options below because either one or more are accurate.

I'm working too many hours to have time for updating regularly so am only working on fics that are currently inspiring to me.

Another Adderall shortage so I'm having a hard time focusing.

I don't feel like it today, and despite what you may think, that's a perfectly valid reason not to write something.

I'm working on something else.

Something bad happened in my personal life.

My personal life got busy.

Going forward, for my own sanity, I'm no longer entertaining questions about "why" I haven't updated or "when" I plan to update something. 9 times out of 10 I'll let you know if something is going to be delayed or if it's not in my current scope of interest, but otherwise, just don't ask.

If you're nice when you ask, I'll probably just ignore you and delete your inbox ask. I feel bad doing that to those of you who are kind when you ask, but I just can't take it anymore, especially when I'm telling you right now that you don't need to ask me.

For those who come in hot like "why haven't you..." or "When are you going to..." I'm blocking you. Consider this a warning. Even if you come in on anon, you can still be blocked and I won't fucking hesitate. Learn some manners and then come talk to me, but until then I'm not going to entertain this behavior any longer.

I'm a grown woman in her thirties just trying to pass the time with something I enjoy, and waking up to this every morning over the last few days while working 60+ hours a week fucking sucks. So for my own mental health, I have to start putting my foot down. You're ruining my online experience and making this less fun for me.

Thanks for reading, I love those of you who read this whole thing and who AREN'T the people this post is meant for. You're the real MVPs.

[alxotl]

I have a (less dramatic and less satisfying) story about how a customer called me transphobic slurs. For context I work at the green logo coffee place. If you catch my drift. Names changed for privacy.

So I’m in the drive thru taking and handing out orders. My shift supervisor - who I will refer to as Shift - is on bar making drinks. It’s just the two of us right now because the third person is on break. It’s relatively steady right now, borderline a rush.

This lady, who will now be called Karen, comes to the speaker box and doesn’t acknowledge my greeting. Whatever maybe she just needs coffee. She is cold and kind of rude. She wants a triple blonde espresso with vanilla and, this is a direct quote, “medium soy”. I look at Shift like ‘what in the nine hells is medium soy’? I type in a splash of soy milk. She verbally tells me that what I got was correct. Both Shift and I heard her confirm her drink was typed in right.

Karen comes to the window and is cold and rude. Whatever I don’t get paid enough to care. I just want to get through this and go home cause I’ve had enough of today. She pays and I turn and see her drink is ready. It looks like how you expect - three shots of espresso with a splash of soy milk, some vanilla, and some ice. She takes one look at it and says that’s not what she ordered.

I’m slightly annoyed at this point because she told me at the speaker that what I typed in was what she ordered. But whatever. I apologize (policy) and ask what she wanted her drink to be. She says she wants the soy milk to fill the cup as well as the ice.

She wanted a latte. For the price of a triple espresso.

I apologize for the confusion (again, policy) and tell her we can definitely get that for her. But she has to pay an extra 70 cents for it since the amount of milk exceeded 4 ounces.

She was not happy.

Karen proceeded to tell me that she has never had to pay extra for milk before. She gets this three times a day (ma’am is your heart okay?). The store manager told her to order it like this. The usual Karen stuff.

I hold in my annoyance and apologize again but inform her I’m just doing what policy says to do and it’s out of my hands. But she can talk to my shift supervisor if she isn’t happy with what I’m saying. She gladly takes me up on that.

I turn and tell Shift everything in a hushed tone. Also letting her know that if I had to talk to her again, I’d loose my job. She completely understood (heard everything cause she was right there) and let me take orders in a place Karen can’t see.

Not even 5 minutes go by and Karen yells through the drive through asking where her drink was. I turn in shock and see Shift turn to the window in the middle of making a drink. She explains she’s working on her drink but there’s other people ahead of her.

At this point my other coworker comes back from break and takes over on bar so Shift can deal with Karen. Shift proceeds to tell her (shocker) the exact thing I was telling her.

Karen wasn’t having it. She demanded to know our names. Shift answers beautifully with “My name is Shift, his name is alxotl, want me to spell that out for you?”

Karen didn’t like that. Especially upon hearing that I am a trans male. So she starts yelling and screaming. Not only demanding Shift to give her her drink without the extra charge but also calling me all the slurs under the sun.

Keep in mind there are cars behind her and people in the lobby. Everyone is shocked to hear this attitude. Eventually Shift gets her to leave without her drink (we gave her a refund). Because the drive thru times were exceeding 10 minutes, we gave everyone in drive their order for free.

The kicker? She’s not banned. I wrote an incident report about it but my store rarely bans people. Her and other entitled people are still allowed back.

Aren’t people great?

[theheightofdishonor]

Your kghn meta is *chefs kiss

I want to know your opinion on the kghn relationship in nekoma match. I feel like there's layers to it. But honestly what's your first reaction to it and when you reread it. You can talk about anything other than kghn too

Ik this is a very specific ask but because i love your kghn analysis and meta. There's so less of that in fandom. Obviously feel free to not answer it If this seems like too much, i hope I'm not coming off as entitled or rude.

Also do you have any recommendations to blogs to follow on hq meta/analysis?

You're not rude at all! Rest assured, I would literally never turn down an opportunity to talk hq and kagehina.

So I started reading the manga specifically for the Nekoma match because it hadn’t been animated yet and I was impatient to know what happened. And it is without a doubt the best match in the series. Utterly nerve-wracking in the best way. I read it five times in one sitting type of good. 

The stakes are incomparably personal in this match for every character involved. Everyone's got something to prove and it shows up in how the intensity's ramped to 11 before the game even starts. Like Daichi and Kuroo end their respective pregame pep talks with "we're going to eat them alive".

 And it lives up to that anticipation! Whether it's Daichi scooping up all of Kuroo's serves or Lev stopping Hinata or Yaku and Noya competing to get the flashiest saves, every rally is insane. You barely have time to catch a breath. It also has some of the best scenes in the series, like Kenma finally caging Hinata, ch 298, the goddamn third tempo set, Inuoka coming back, etc.  I’m disappointed beyond words that we won’t be getting every minute detail of it animated the way it deserves to be. 

As for kagehina specifically in that match, I think I said something about this recently but I think it's a huge marker of how their relationship has grown since the series began. The way that Kenma, who not only is one of the most observant people in the series but also Hinata's best friend thinks Kageyama wouldn't want a Hinata that can't give 100% and then Kageyama proves him wrong by giving the ball to him anyway- it’s a huge change in attitude from his previous “I only toss to those who are necessary” mentality and shows how kagehina’s bond has strengthened since the beginning and how Kageyama himself has grown as a person. His third tempo sets, specifically the second 3rd tempo set is hands down my favorite kagehina moment in haikyuu!! 

This entire time, Hinata’s been more or less leading Kageyama along through speed and faith and raw athletic ability. Kageyama grumbles multiple times that “Hinata stole the ball” from him or that he had to consciously stop himself from giving the ball to Hinata or whatnot. Whether it be their first freak quick or the falling set or going minus tempo instead of first, Hinata’s been the one leading their moves. But here, Hinata can’t do that anymore and Kageyama “speed is everything” “I only toss to those who are necessary” Tobio opens up a path for him. A third tempo set makes no use of Hinata’s skills and still, Kageyama gives it to him because he trusts that Hinata will score even without speed and unpredictability on his side. And when he fails, Kageyama does it again. It’s the ultimate show of faith, Kageyama finally returning the trust that Hinata’s had in him since that very first “I’m here”. It’s Kageyama reminding him that as long as he’s here, Hinata is invincible. That it doesn’t matter if his wings are clipped because Kageyama will be there to help him fly even when Hinata can’t do it on his own. 

I’m probably not the best person to ask for blog recs but @suckishima and @kitaofthearth both have tons of excellent meta. 

[sluttyten]

saying you’re “mad” txt hasn’t released anti romantic in English is, I’m sorry to say, racist. It may be unintentional but it IS racist. Koreans do not have to make English music for you to go to work and not annoy your coworkers. That’s not their business, just like it’s none of YOUR business what they release. It doesn’t matter how good the song is to you. It doesn’t matter if it “slaps”. It doesn’t matter that it’s given you “ANY interest in txt’s music”.

You’re just one—entitled—consumer and saying you’re mad about this is genuinely just embarrassing, no matter how lighthearted you meant the post to be. And before you come at me, it’s not “not that deep.” This is 100% a microaggression that’s perpetuated all over the place in this industry. Koreans don’t need to speak English for you as a white person. You’re annoying to think otherwise and I have absolutely no respect for that creepy attitude. And also, the fact you try to double down with some point about how this would gain them success on the charts is a ridiculously inappropriate statement. You’re not their manager, friend, or an expert. I don’t have any type of blind trust in BigHit—they’re not perfect or even great at managing their artists—but you, a white/non-Korean woman, making some kind of statement about their success just because of a work playlist is uncalled for. If their professional judgement made them want to record an English version, they would have. And the truth is, you’re only bringing that up to exude a sense of selflessness. You complain about something that is ONLY a problem to you and then back it up with some crock that is “to help them.” Again, maybe it’s unintentional but it gives the strongest air of white-saviorism. You definitely need to check yourself for that privilege, especially with the way you interact with that whole industry.

I was so confused when I checked my inbox and saw this series of messages lol, like I forgot I even posted that, so I was confused why you’re coming in my inbox three days after I said this. But I scrolled down and found my post to remind myself what I said:

I really didn’t mean for it to come off like any of the way that you described, but reading this back I can see how you got your interpretation. I just want to clarify what I was trying to say, and I’m sorry if it still doesn’t come across in the right way. First, I love the song the way it is, I generally don’t care that it’s not in English, and that goes for basically every single Kpop song I’ve heard. If I didn’t want to listen to music in Korean, I wouldn’t be a Kpop fan. I’m not saying that I wish they would just sing in English or speak in English because that would be ridiculous, and if I wanted those things I would just be a fan of artists that only sang or spoke in English. That’s not at all what I was trying to say.

Secondly, I understand that it is a big issue with people (“fans”) telling artists to speak/sing in English, so maybe I should have phrased it differently in that post, but that is simply not really the way I think about it.

Third, my coworkers and the area I live in are largely country-music loving people, so a lot of pop music isn’t exactly their taste and especially not music when it’s in a different language. Some people just like music that they can understand and sing along to without having to learn a new language, and I don’t think there’s really any harm in that unless they’re being rude and/or disrespectful towards people who are fans of that type of music. Because of that, I stand by what I said about if the song were in English it would have been popular on American charts, like it’s undeniable that BTS started getting more radio play when they made English songs, like even my coworkers (who, again, largely listen to country, and sometimes very mainstream pop) have heard and recognize Dynamite and Butter.

Fourth, I am totally and fully aware that this music is not being made for me personally in any way, shape, or form. As you point out, I am white and an English speaker, so clearly the entirety of the Kpop genre was not created with me or anyone like me in mind. I don’t think that these artists need to cater to my specific tastes. Like damn lol I don’t think my opinion is gonna change anything, I don’t expect it to have any influence, just like when I complained about Sticker and said Lemonade should’ve been the title track, I didn’t think that opinion mattered either because it doesn’t. I’m sure their management teams are gonna do their best to make the best decisions for the group.

So lastly, Anti-Romantic is a terrific song exactly the way it is, I love it totally, and TXT is good too. I’m not saying anything against any of that, I was just trying to express my frustration that my coworkers don’t like Kpop music in the slightest (and to each their own, people like the music that they like. I like Kpop and they don’t. They like screamo music or country music, and I don’t really like either of those much), and since I know they won’t give the songs a chance in Korean, I just wish there was the opportunity for them to fall in love with the song in English, as maybe that could act as a gateway into the appreciation for more Kpop songs in Korean. Like I said up top, I’m sorry if this still comes across as rude because I really genuinely don’t mean it to be, I did mean the original post in a lighthearted way, and I am aware that there are prevalent issues throughout the world and among the Kpop community that could make that post seem a lot less lighthearted and more serious

[rhysismydaddy]

Felons pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nessian multichapter. Next part out probably Monday. As always, this one just sets up some stuff so it’s kinda boring. This one’s probably going to be long. And an emotional roller coaster. Just letting you know :) 

Lightly based off the book The Witness. I say lightly because I’ve actually never even read this book, but my mom told me about it. ALSO no offense to anyone who’s from/lives in Nebraska lol.

Cassian swiveled around in his chair and looked at his partner with raised brows. “She’s in Nebraska?”

“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?”

Someone’s a little testy today. He ignores the tone and repeats, “But... Nebraska? What the hell is she doing there? And why did it take us so long to find her?”

Azriel gives him a tight look, and he realizes the reason for his pissy attitude. He’s annoyed it took him so long to track her down. 

Before he can tell his partner it isn’t his fault, he says, “She isn’t doing much. She’s completely off the grid. Which answers your second stupid question, too.”

“Okay... how off the grid are we talking?”

The woman had grown up in a penthouse, for fuck’s sake. He couldn’t imagine her living in the middle of nowhere without any of the comfort she’d lived with her entire life. 

“No cell phone or bank records for the last two years. The last time she was seen by any sort of traffic camera was before that, and it was in Atlanta.” He scrolls through something on his desktop with a frown. “From what I can tell, she took all her money out in cash and hoped on a bus.”

Nothing about that sounded like the woman he’d been reading about, but he wasn’t about to argue with Azriel in such a bad mood. “So she went straight to Nebraska?”

“I don’t know.”

His least favorite answer. “How’d you find her, anyway?”

“Well, I figured that unless she was sleeping under a bridge, she had to be paying rent somewhere. So I went state by state, looking at new property purchases under her known aliases.” Azriel sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. “But that didn’t pull up any results, so I looked at all the IDs on new renter’s insurance purchases until I matched one to her.”

His eyebrows rose. “That’s...”

“Tedious as shit.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s why it took so damn long,” he mutters. “She’s been careful, Cass. I mean really, really careful.”

A laugh bubbled out of him at that. “Well, she should be. She’s a felon.”

~Nesta~

Nesta’s breath clouded in front of her as she ran up the hill, panting like crazy. Even though she’d taken up running after the move, she still fucking hated it. Especially when it was cold. 

Which, in Nebraska, was somehow year round.  

Even the summers here were cold compared to back home-

No. Not home. 

This was home now. 

California was slowly, painfully becoming a distant memory, and she had to constantly force herself to remember that Mackenzie Brooks had never lived there. She was born in Michigan. She has no family or friends. Her hobbies include reading and running (the last of which was a definite mistake to include). 

And she was her. 

God, it honestly was a miracle she hadn’t slipped up yet. 

Maybe it was still the fear that drove her. Maybe it was just that she knew she could never go back to her old life. No matter that she wanted to.

No matter that she’d picked up and left without a word.  No matter that her sisters probably thought she was dead. 

Thankfully, she made it to the top of the hill before she passed out or died, and she bent over, sucking down the freezing air. It was only October, but it was already cold enough to force her to wear three layers and a beanie. 

Despite being miserable and cold, she forced herself to go through her training course. 

Because it couldn’t just be enough to be fit enough to run away anymore. If the person chasing her was faster... 

Nesta punched her hand through the target, satisfied when the wood cracked down the middle. Her knuckles luckily had gotten used to the abuse, so when she ducked under the branch and struck again, another target went flying. 

By the time she was done, her hands and arms were tired and her body was aching for a bath. 

Or two hours on a warm, sunny beach. 

Since only one of those things was bound to actually happen, she trudged back to her cabin, praying the hot water would hold out long enough for a full bath. 

One thing about Blair, Nebraska was that somehow, the less than ten thousand people who lived here were always experiencing a water shortage. 

It rivaled the cold ass weather for her least favorite thing about the place as a very close second. 

Noticing who was parked in front of her small little house, she grimaced and amended her statement. Lack of hot water was actually third, second only to the one and only Sheriff Marks. 

He spun around when he finally heard her steps, smiling a big, ugly, fake smile. “Miss Brooks.”

“Marks.”

According to small-town social guidelines, she was being beyond rude for not calling him Sheriff. But he was a short, ugly, annoying man, and she didn’t hold an ounce of respect for him. 

And because she wasn’t completely fake, she didn’t bother hiding it. 

“What are you doing on my property?”

His smile dimmed as his eyes beady eyes narrowed slightly. “I wanted to see how you’re doing. You never come into town. And here in Blair, we take care of each other.”

That right there was the reason for her dislike; Sheriff Marks was an insatiably curious man. 

And ever since she’d shown up a year ago, he’d been trying to put together the puzzle of why a moderately attractive young woman would move to the middle of butt-fucking nowhere. 

“I’m fine.”

She wanted to walk by him and go inside, where she could blissfully lock him out, but she had a list of rules now, and not putting her back to people she didn’t know or like was at the top of it. 

“Okay, sure, but-”

“Listen, Marks. I appreciate this... gesture, but I moved here to be left alone. I’d appreciate it if you would respect that.” It was the most she’d ever said to him, and he looked a little shocked. “I think I’ve made it more than clear.”

His face went somehow even ruddier, and for a split second, she regretted the harsh words. 

She couldn’t have people caring about her, though. When people cared, they stopped by more and felt entitled to know your business. Neither of which were things she wanted. 

So she just raised a brow and shot a meaningful glance to his cruiser. 

“Yes. It’s perfectly clear exactly who you are.” 

She almost rolled her eyes at the attempted insult, thankful when he finally turned to leave. As he was pulling away, she united her muddy shoes and got her house key from her sock, grimacing at how tight her back was when she stood up. 

Inside, she went through and made sure every door and window was locked, a habit she’d picked up two years ago and hadn’t been able to shake. 

God apparently was looking out for her today, because when she finally made it upstairs, there was enough hot water to fill the tub. 

When she sunk down to her shoulders and closed her eyes, enjoying the moment of peace. But then images of her sisters’ faces, the ocean, and her old home popped up uninvited in her head. 

It was always quiet moments like these when she found it the hardest to shake the memories of who she used to be. And since Nebraska was always fucking quiet... 

Nesta reminded herself of why she was here; why it had been necessary to leave. She reminded herself that her family was safer with her gone, that she was safer. 

But the hole in her chest refused to listen and close up. 

A tear slipped down her cheek, and she was too tired to even brush it away and chastise herself. Because for the first time in twenty-five years, she admitted she was lonely. 

She’d been alone for most of her life, but there was a difference between alone and lonely. Even when she’d isolated herself from her family and friends, they’d still been there for her. 

But now... she had no one here. And she’d never felt so alone in her life. 

It was horrible enough to make her consider going back, despite the risks. 

This is home now, she told herself, dunking under the water to wash away the thoughts hounding her. You didn’t work your ass off to get safe just to bitch out after a year. 

Coming up and gasping for air, she went through her cover, just like she did every night. 

“My name is Mackenzie Brooks, nickname Mackie. I’m from Michigan, but I moved to Nebraska last year to start over. I like to read and run. I’m twenty-five.” Taking a deep breathe, she finished, “I don’t have any family.” 

No amount of time under the water could ebb the sting of those words, though.

~Cassian~

Cassian was honestly a little surprised he hadn’t gotten fired. 

He absolutely hated his orders, and he’d made that more than clear. They’d come straight from Command and “weren’t negotiable,” but that didn’t mean he hadn’t tried. 

Calling his boss a two-faced asshole might’ve been a bit much, but it felt justified in the moment.

Because in all the time he’d spent searching for Nesta Archeron, he’d always pictured the day he’d finally track her down and slap some cuffs on her wrists, haul her away to jail.

He’d never imagined he’d be given orders to find out what she knew first. 

And he’d also never imagined having to do so in fucking Nebraska. 

An hour in the state, and he already hated it. He was from Boston, so he didn’t mind the cold weather, but the lack of buildings over thirty feet was a shock to the system. 

That, alongside the fact that everyone here was wearing some form of plaid, only worsened his mood. 

It wasn’t like he cared about her or anything, but he’d never really liked undercover work. Deceiving a woman--no matter that she was a criminal--never felt right to him. 

But orders were orders. 

He had to find out why she’d run, what she knew about what had happened, and if she had any proof. The goal was to get it all recorded, so he had to carry around a stupid little tap recorder in his jacket pocket. 

Maybe she’d meet him and just spill her guts immediately. That’d be ideal, but it seemed pretty fucking unlikely. At the very least, he’d have to get her to trust him enough to talk about the events of two years ago.

He drove the crappy old truck Azriel had gotten him through the small town, gaining the eyes of pretty much every person he passed. 

Not a lot of new people, apparently.

Ignoring them, he drove to the address of a small house on the outskirts of town. Or home for however long it took him to get close to her. 

Gods, I hope she’s talkative, he thought, walking up the creaky stairs and shouldering the door open. 

Quiet and small, but at least it was clean. 

Throwing his bag down, Cassian grabbed his laptop and started to get to work. 

~

Three hours and a trip to the grocery store later, he’d learned absolutely nothing Nesta--or Mackenzie Brooks, rather. 

There had been nothing online, and no one in the store had much to say besides, “She moved here a year ago. Keeps to herself.”

Great. 

Luckily, he had a reason to go see her. They were neighbors. Kind of. 

Her house was further out of town than his, and she owned the land around it, so she didn’t actually have neighbors. But he lived within a two mile radius, so he counted it. 

Which is why he found himself sitting in her gravel driveway, eyebrows high on his forehead, staring at the place.

And for the first time, he questioned if Azriel was right. 

Because the woman he’d read about... she definitely didn’t seem the type to live here. 

The porch was missing floor boards, the roof was caving in on one side, and the paint on the outside of the house was peeling off. The only thing that looked somewhat new was the front door. 

It had three locks and seemed to be a little heavy duty compared to the house, which made it stand out in a pretty obvious way.

Stepping out of the car, he walked up to get a better look, avoiding the holes in the floor. The house was quiet, and he knocked on the door, finding it to be solid and heavy. 

No answer. 

He knocked again, waiting a few minutes. Then he decided to be nosy and peek in the window. 

A couch and dining table were all that was visible, furthering his opinion that she couldn’t actually live here. 

She’d grown up in one of the nicest apartment buildings in California. Her father had been a wealthy real-estate tycoon. She’d gone to private school and sailing camp, for Christ’s sake. 

There was no way she lived here. 

That theory was proven very soundly incorrect a second later when he felt something tap the back of his head. Repressing the jump that rose from not hearing anyone sneak up on him, he straightened and turned around. 

And found himself looking down the barrel of a shotgun into the surprisingly beautiful, angry face of Nesta Archeron. 

“You have five seconds to get the hell off my porch.” 

Shock ran through his system like lightening. For a few reasons, the least of which was the gun. 

For starters, pictures didn’t at all do her justice, because she was probably the most attractive thing Cassian had ever laid eyes on. And that was with mud splattered on her face, hair in a ponytail, and athletic clothes covering her thin frame. 

Then there was the fact that Azriel had been completely correct. Nesta Archeron, pampered little trust fund princess, was living here. In Nebraska. Completely off the grid. By herself. 

The gun was also a surprise, but not as much as the way she was holding it. Her feet were squared, her shoulders lined up to absorb the kickback if she fired. She looked... she looked like she knew what she was doing. 

She raised a brow, reminding him of the fact that he still hadn’t spoken. 

And remembering who he was supposed to be, what he was supposed to do, he ignored the gun and smiled broadly. “Or what?”

“Or I will shoot you,” she responded calmly, hand pulling back the fore-end to load the gun with a snap. 

“You aren’t going to shoot me,” he assured her. “I brought you a pie.” He held up the baked good and grinned. It was from the grocery store, but it still counted, right? “It’s blueberry.”

“What? Who the fuck are you? And why are you here?”

Sticking out a hand that she ignored, he said, “Cassian. I’m here because I just moved in to the place about a mile from here, and I wanted to meet my neighbors. I gotta say, I’m loving the hospitality.”

Nesta ignored the joke and asked incredulously, “You moved here?”

He nodded. 

She just narrowed her eyes, not buying it apparently. 

Good God, “stand-off-ish” didn’t begin to cover it. 

He was having a difficult time wrapping his head around the fact that this was the same woman who’d gone to UC Santa Barbara, liked to surf, and had dated a movie star.

“But what about the-”

“I hate pie.”

He scoffed, leaning against the crumbling wall of her house like he was unbothered by the rejection in her voice. “No one hates pie.”

Nesta shrugged, jerking her chin towards his truck in a clear get the fuck out manner. 

“I’ll leave if you tell me your name,” he bargained, acting like he didn’t know who she was already.

There was a pause of silence, and a bit of sadness seeped into her bright blue eyes. “Mackenzie.”

Mackenzie Brooks, one of her aliases.  

“Pretty name.”

“Leave.”

“Sweetheart, I honestly can’t believe you’re trying so hard to get rid of me. I’m the best looking guy around here.”

That might very well be true, considering he hadn’t seen a single person under the age of fifty when he’d gone out earlier. 

“And what if I’m not looking for a man?”

“I have a female cousin you could date instead.”

Her lips twitched, and it made him a little too happy to see. “If I take the pie, will you leave?”

“Counteroffer. We split the pie, then I’ll leave.”

Her eyebrows go up. “Who the hell offers someone half a pie?”

“I was planning on giving you the whole pie, but I didn’t know you’d be so beautiful. And feisty.” He ran his eyes over her slowly. “A quality I never even knew I liked.”

“The urge to shoot you just increased.”

Cassian waggled his eyebrows. “So passionate.”

Nesta just sighed, finally lowering the gun. She engaged the safety and leaned it against the door, then snatched the pie from his hands and walked to the porch railing. 

He noticed she didn’t turn her back to him the entire time, and she she kept the gun in arm’s reach. 

What the hell had she been through?

His train of thought was cut off when he heard a splat. Nesta came back to him, one crumpled half of the pie lying upside down in the lid, the other in the original container. She shoved the crumpled half toward him. “Now leave.”

“How did you even cut it? Do you have a knife hidden between your breasts?”

It was a miracle she didn’t slap him for that one. She just narrowed her eyes again and said, “Yes.”

He honestly believed her. 

Cassian sighed, knowing he had to actually leave now. “Well, this wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it’ll do. It was lovely to meet you, Mackenzie.”

“Please just leave.”

Ouch.

He laughed and walked to his truck, calling out, “I’ll see you soon, neighbor!”

Nesta frowned at that, but he ignored it and grinned back. 

She stood on the porch watching him drive away until he was a certain distance, then picked up her stuff and unlocked the door. 

Well, Azriel had definitely been right: she was being very, very careful. 

But why? 

Cassian had no idea, but he was definitely going to find out. 

_____________________________________________________

Part 2

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[tasminsstuff]

Get to know me

Hello! Imma introduce myself... I'm Minty (I won't tell my RL name because...private Ahahaha...but my friends in Facebook called me Minty) I've been playing Hogwarts Mystery since September (and Because of modules I can't finish the plot that's why I'm in third year in that game) I'm 16 (too young to have this I think?) A beginner in digital arts and I played an otome game entitled Obey me (try this peeps the story is good and you can even simp one of the characters there or all of them ;>) I'm a Filipino (I know some peeps from another country noticed Filipinos as mean in this year because of their attitude and stuff...I kinda regret my nationality but I'm just gonna accept it because that's what I am... I'm respecting everyone I know and meet so yeah) I'm a sensitive person and easily get jealous over some little things...I love music and memes Ahahaha!

And that's all :))

About my Hogwarts Mystery MCs (According to my AU)

MC #1 Tasmin O'Sullivan

A girl who sorted in Hufflepuff. Tasmin is a fun gal yet insecure, she's caring and polite. A petite girl who suffers from myopia during her childhood (that's why she's wearing glasses and the reason is...she spends more time indoors than outdoors) Tasmin can be pretty rude when you mess with her and her friends and even sacrifices everything for them. She's very close to Jacob since her childhood, and on the time of her brother's disappearance she keep researching about the curse vaults and focus to find her brother before she went to Hogwarts.

MC #2 Zuri Nakamura

A girl who sorted in Gryffindor. Zuri is a mischievous gal (like Tulip and Tonks hehehe) She's focused on not minding her brother's reputation in Hogwarts but she wanted to find her brother Jacob and see him after so many years. Zuri loves pranks, Jacob and her always pranking each other since childhood.

Bonus (?):

Tasmin is pure blood while Zuri is half-blood

/I don't think my captions are related to the picture :</

[mkw-raider]

Fire Ch.2

Summary: Chloe continues using the Turtle Miraculous on a trial run while she tries to prove herself.

Chapter 2/4 - We’ll Keep On Rising, It Leaves Me Aching To See Those Eyes

Pairing: Chloe/Marinette

AO3     First - Next - Previous - Last

A week and a half into her trial run found Chloé still feeling like she was a temporary holder waiting for Ladybug to take the miraculous away from her. There had been six akumas since Chat had told her Ladybug was trusting his judgement and giving her a trial run, but Chloé had only fought four of them. 

Interactions with Ladybug had so far been neutral at best, and awkward at worst. The first akuma she had tried to fight, Ladybug had just looked at her before asking her to keep civilians away and safe. The second akuma, she had gotten in a few hits, and blocked plenty with her shield, but had no reason to use Shellter. Ladybug had nodded after the battle but still didn’t speak to her. The third akuma had struck while Chloé was at a public event with her father and she couldn’t slip away from him to transform. The fourth akuma was when Chloé felt her interactions with Ladybug shift from awkward to neutral after she had apologized for her absence and Ladybug had just told her to be there when she could, but she understood not being able to hide from civilian life. Their battle conversations weren’t as playful as Ladybug and Chat’s, but it had progressed to more than just silence and little acknowledgement. The fifth battle had actually been a step back for her place on the team after a particularly strong akuma had surprised her and thrown her through a building. Even with the miraculous cure, Chloé had still been sore the next day. After a rookie mistake that led to her not contributing to the fight, Chloé resolved to do more in the next fight, to give Ladybug a reason to let her continue using the Turtle, but the final akuma had the ability to corrupt people into fighting for him, and Chloé never made it to the actual akuma battle. She had spent the entire fight protecting civilians from the corrupted people, and preventing the corrupted people from doing any serious damage to themselves.

So far, she figured her performance was enough to have her expect a visit from Ladybug any moment to take the miraculous. Wayzz was helpful, and very sweet in his encouragement, so even though Chloé hadn’t wanted to get attached, losing him would probably be the worst part of the Turtle being taken from her.

Her mood the past few days had been sour enough for Sabrina to notice and ask her about it, but she just passed it off as her father being too busy to spend time with her, which was true, but was mostly something she was used to now. After Ladybug had told her the truth about her attitude, Chloé had done some serious self reflection. The end results were not uplifting. After finally convincing Sabrina to be honest with her, and a very enlightening talk with Adrien, she had come to the conclusion that she was entitled and bossy, and more often than not, a massive bitch. Nobody would say she was Mother Theresa, or that her behaviour had turned around quickly, but Sabrina had helped her notice when she was being rude and tearing others down, and she had mostly been able to stop the unnecessary comments. She wasn’t perfect obviously, and had still snapped at classmates here and there, but she was working on controlling her temper and hadn’t been the cause of a single akuma attack since. Ladybug had made her reflect on herself, and she understood she wasn’t a good person. So how could she blame Ladybug for not thinking she was good in the mask? Chloé and Queen Bee were the same person, and all of Paris knew that. Khelone, however, was nowhere close to Chloé Bourgeois, and she was trying harder than ever to ensure Ladybug could see that.

Unfortunately for Chloé’s mood, dwelling on her past mistakes had eaten up a large chunk of her time and she was now running behind schedule for school. A brief glance at her phone showed multiple messages of confusion from Sabrina and knew she had to hurry. Chloé grabbed her school bag and checked to make sure she had everything. Phone, check, handkerchief for Wayzz in case he was cold, check, school work, check, tablet, check, and container of cubed watermelon, also check. She had started bringing two containers of food to school with her, one for Wayzz to snack on when he was hungry, and one that was designated only for emergencies.

Chloé was downstairs and out the door minutes later, with Sabrina trailing behind her excitedly recounting her morning.

Fortunately for Chloé, she got to school before the bell rang. She was later than usual, which meant she and Sabrina were the last two students to enter, somehow even later than Marinette, so their arrival briefly drew the eyes of most of their classmates. Chloé kept her head high and walked to her seat, knowing their eyes were curious and not cruel and she had no reason to defend herself. Mme. Bustier still hadn’t arrived, so Chloé busied herself with setting up her school supplies and tuning into the conversations around her. So far it sounded like the normal ‘Who’s better, Ladybug Or Chat Noir?’ that the class normally debated, and while her opinion had been and always would be Ladybug, she could allow herself to argue with her classmates if anyone got too crazy on the Chat Noir side.

“Listen, remember, Algernon? Hard fight sure, but there was a lot of cool stuff done.” Kim said. He was normally team Chat because of the baton wielding, but he could be swayed for Ladybug after a practically epic fight.

Alya huffed before throwing her arms out, “Yeah but, Carapace has never had Shellter falter like that, even in his earliest fights.” And oh. Oh wow. Her class was talking about her. They were talking about Khelone versus Carapace.

Kim looked ready to argue more, but Adrien leaned forward in his seat, “I think Khelone was really cool for a first appearance. Algernon seemed strong, but she still managed to push against him despite the pressure, and it was her shield throw that really won the battle.”

Most of the class seemed to murmur in agreement, but Alya still seemed firmly team Carapace. Only Marinette and Nino currently seemed to be not taking sides, as neither of them were really looking at anyone else in the class and were instead focused on their desks.

Chloé loved Adrien, and hearing him support her in the mask was almost as sweet as when he did it for her outside of the mask, but she knew he was wrong. “Alya’s right. Carapace has never had Shellter falter before and he’s gone against a lot of tough akumas. Khelone’s throw seemed lucky, maybe Ladybug should have stuck with a real hero like Carapace.” Seeing Alya’s smug expression and Adrien’s look of betrayal almost made her wish she hadn’t spoken, but Marinette was staring directly at her now. Maybe Chloé had misjudged her not having a favourite hero, but the look in Marinette’s eyes was confusing. Chloé couldn’t place the feeling, and looked away before she could dwell on whatever the other girl was thinking. Thankfully, Chloé was saved from further thought by the appearance of Mme. Bustier and the start of class.

Chloé went through the motions of her day with as much enthusiasm as she could muster, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of Marinette’s eyes on her. They had felt calculating, like Marinette was absorbing every word she had said, but Chloé had no idea why Marinette would even care about her opinion seeing as how the other girl normally only cared what she had to say when she was defending the class from Chloé’s cruel remarks. By the end of the day, Chloé was exhausted and eager to go to a cafe with Sabrina and forget about the feeling of Marinette’s eyes on her all day.

Sabrina was taking Chloé to a cafe in the 10th arrondissement. It was a bit of a walk from the school, but it was a nice day and Chloé wanted to see the spring leaves reflecting in the Canal St. Martin. Sabrina had promised it was nice, not fancy like the places Chloé frequented, but a quiet place to work together on homework and unwind after a long day of work. 

Upon their arrival, Chloé had to admit that letting Sabrina pick their location had paid off. The cafe had a light environment, and the only sound other than the whir of machines was quiet chatter from the other customers. Sabrina went to set up their table and stuff away from the doors, and Chloé went to buy them drinks and a slice of cake to eat while they worked.

Just as Chloé was beginning to settle into a rhythm of work and idle chatter, she thought her mood might finally take a turn for the better. Of course, then she had to overhear a loud argument. Standing in the door was one of the cafe workers, arguing with someone outside. Chloé didn’t know what exactly was said, but another worker joined at the door before the person outside stormed off. The two workers then had a quieter dispute, and neither looked particularly happy, until the original worker threw down their apron and left in the opposite direction. There was a sinking feeling in Chloé’s gut that her day wasn’t going to get any better. Chloé really hoped that there wasn’t going to be an akuma, because even though it had been days since she had been knocked out of a fight, and since she didn’t appear to fight the akuma after that, she still had no idea how to explain it to Ladybug and didn’t want her to think she wasn’t taking any of this seriously.

The universe seemed to be against Chloé as minutes after the worker had disappeared, the front wall of the cafe was pulled free. Chloé couldn’t see the entire akuma, but it was big, it was mad, and it was yelling about revenge towards whoever was inside. Pulling Sabrina down with her, Chloé dodged a stream of brown sludge before grabbing her bag and running towards the back. “Hide Sabrina, I’m going to try to distract the akuma.” She was technically lying, but she was going to fight the akuma as Khelone so that had to count for something.

Chloé ran through the back of the store, past the ducking workers, and slipped out the back. She hoped the workers just thought she was running away instead of connecting her to Khelone. The back of the store exited into a closed off area, so Chloé ducked behind the nearest dumpster and released Wayzz.

“Wayzz, shell on!” After the familiar rush of the transformation faded, Chloé pushed herself away from the dumpster and jumped for the roof. She was worried about the civilians she had left behind, but also knew she needed to come from a different angle to make it look like she had been somewhere else and just had quick response time. Making sure to leap to a few extra buildings, Chloé came back to the cafe just in time to see the akuma shoot more brown sludge into the store.

Towering too high to fit into the small store comfortably, the akuma was floating above the street on two metal arms. The arms were attached to the akuma’s white jumpsuit via a large complicated backpack, and two more arms extended forward. The jumpsuit on the akuma looked odd, covering the entire body, and it took Chloé a second to notice that the akumas actual arms were too long for its body and were just hanging limply, swinging as the akuma moved.. The two metal arms not on the ground seemed to alternate between shooting the brown sludge, and metal claws that kept reaching into the store trying to grab something.

Wasting no time, Chloé jumped at the akuma’s back, pulling them down and flipping herself forward to land between the cafe and the akuma. Chloé could only prepare her shield and watch as the akuma used it’s metal limbs to push itself back up. The head lolled from side to side, and although the akuma was making a high pitch steaming noise, it’s mouth remained closed. Chloé was officially freaked out.

The akuma staggered forward before swinging their claws at Chloé as she blocked the swipes with her shield. The akuma tried a few more times before seeming to realize Chloé wasn’t letting it get to the store.. Then the akuma yelled. The ringing somehow got even louder and it was all Chloé could hear. Where Chloé assumed the mouth of the akuma was, had now fallen open and brown sludge was dripping out and falling to the road below as the sound got more and more painful. Glancing behind her, she could still see the cafe staff cowering, and the various customers who were hiding under tables. She saw Sabrina holding her hands over her ears behind an overturned table and knew that this akuma wasn’t going to touch any of them.

Chloé had seconds to prepare herself before the akuma began attacking with everything it had. She raised her shield too slow and one of the claws cut across her cheek, but the next one she deflected. The akuma tried to press forward, so Chloé kept moving to press it back, dodging the strikes when she had to, but deflecting most of them with her shield. It was exhausting. Chloé could only hope Ladybug or Chat Noir got here sooner rather than later.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Leave it to Hawkmoth to cause an akuma across town while I have family over, Ladybug thought. Marinette had faked sickness before escaping up to the bathroom and leaving through the window. The Akuma Alert had been updated within minutes that Khelone was on the scene, but there hadn’t been an update that Chat Noir had arrived, so Marinette was rushing. She still didn’t know how to feel around Chloé, guilt still eating at her from what she said, and mistrust due to what happened with Queen Bee, but that didn’t mean she wanted to leave her alone any longer than she had to with an akuma. Especially since the last few battles hadn’t been the easiest on her. 

The miraculous cure worked wonders, but Marinette knew it didn’t always heal Miraculous users as well as it did civilians and property, she had had enough sore nights to realize that, and Marinette had seen Chloé wincing after being thrown into the building. Chloé had pulled away after that battle and Marinette had honestly thought she had skipped the next one altogether in embarrassment or shame. Then Marinette had seen the news coverage of the corrupted civilians around Paris, and had to admit she had judged Chloé too soon when she saw the features of Chloé preventing them from hurting others and themselves. Marinette could admit that Chloé was doing a much better job than she thought she was going to, but she had the feeling Chloé didn’t think she was doing enough.

Arriving at the scene of the battle, Marinette almost fell out of the sky when she realized what was happening. Even from her distance, Marinette could see whatever slime was dripping from the akuma’s mouth and could see the way their head rolled around. The akuma unnerved her, but what really surprised her was Chloé. There was blood on her face, probably a swipe from the akuma, but there was fiery determination in her eyes as she defended strike after strike from the metal arms and used her shield to push away slime. There were civilians cowering in the store behind her, but Marinette only had eyes for Chloé. She had never seen the other girl this determined for anything, even when they had gone against each other for class representative, this was something recent, something Marinette had seen reflected in Chat’s eyes during a fight, but not something she expected from the rich girl below. Marinette saw fire, determination to keep those around her safe. There were too many civilians in the coffee shop, and none of them were moving away from the akuma and out the back, most of them seemed frozen while they watched the battle before them, and Ladybug knew she had to jump in.

Quickly scanning the akuma, Ladybug realized the actual body was almost entirely lifeless, all of the akuma’s movements came from the legs and arms, and they would most likely not be able to catch themself if their limbs were restrained to trip them. Khelone had to be up close to use her shield or to hit opponents unless she was throwing her weapon, but Ladybug had a weapon that excelled over a distance. Dropping behind the akuma, she threw her yoyo around the front of the body as the arms were preparing another strike, and pulled the string tight against their legs.

When the akuma hit the ground, it’s wailing began to cause nearby things to shake. Plates and food from the cafe was shaking off the tables onto the floor, and the ground felt unsteady under her feet. Keeping her hold on the string tight, Ladybug began approaching the downed opponent. The akuma was struggling against its binds, but the string was holding firm. As Ladybug came closer, Khelone huffed out a breath before smashing her shield down onto the akuma’s backpack, releasing the black butterfly. Quickly retracting the yoyo, Ladybug purified the akuma and released it. Khelone was still breathing deeply while the cure washed over the street, revealing a young person who appeared to work at the cafe based on their uniform. They were dazed, but otherwise seemed fine and Ladybug dragged her eyes away from the victim to Khelone beside her.

The determined expression from earlier was still present and Marinette froze. The fire in Chloé’s eyes, the heat that Marinette had seen while she had been protecting the civilians was still present and warmth bloomed in Marinette’s chest. Chloé’s expression was slowly shifting back into a passive face, but the heat that had made itself at home in Marinette’s chest only grew. Wordlessly raising her fist, Ladybug held her arm out for the usual celebratory fist bump, and Chloé met her without a word. Marinette could not remember the last time she had been this awkward as Ladybug.

“You did great out there.”

The smallest of smiles appeared as Chloé shifted away from Ladybug. “Thanks.” Ladybug watched Chloé jump away, and even though her teammate left, the warmth she had created stayed.

[sevysnep]

Severus Snape x Female Reader

By request of @beebofrank13

This is my first fic ever! Sorry if there is any mess ups or grammatical errors. 

I hope you all like it!!

(Y/N) = your name / (Y/L/N) = your last name 

(F/N) = friend name

(Y/H) = your house

(Y/O/N) = your owl name

Seventh year student, (Y/N) (Y/L/N),  had been quietly reading in the (Y/H) common room while listening to the dying crackle in the fireplace until (Y/O/N) had came and landed onto the back of the couch she was laying down on. (Y/O/N) dropped a letter onto the arm of the couch that her head had been laying on before she got up to check the letter.  (Y/N) grabbed the letter and opened it as quickly as possible seeing that it was from her best friend, (F/N), who goes to a muggle school back where (Y/N) grew up. (Y/N) opened the letter and read it with a smile until she couldn’t smile any longer. 

(Y/N), I know you haven’t heard from me in a long time and I’m sorry for not writing you sooner.  Its just tough keeping up with everything going on at home and at school lately that I forget a majority of the time.  Anyway, I have some bad news that I wish I didn’t have to be telling you right now.... well here goes nothing.... my parents told me that I can no longer be your friend.  They banned me from writing letters, calling you when you go into London, seeing you when you are on breaks, or anything for that matter.  They said you were dangerous and could hurt me if you ever got mad at me because of your wand and the knowledge you know that the muggle communities don’t. I hope you know that I want absolutely no part of this and I haven’t stopped crying during the day and especially while writing this.  I’m so sorry that I have to do this and I will fight them everyday until i’m finally old enough to make my own decisions and talk to whoever I want.  So this will be my last letter for a long while and I’m so sorry. I love you (Y/N).  Please don’t forget that or me.                                                                                                                                     Love,                                                                                                                       (F/N)

The first thing (Y/N) thought to do was run and keeping running until she felt far enough away from their problem.  So she did.  She ran and ran until she was down in the dungeons crying in the darkest corner they could find.  So many thoughts had been streaming through her mind that she didn’t hear how loud she was crying and it had seemed to invite some company that may not have been wanted at that time.  

“Ms. (Y/L/N), what do you think you are doing out of your dormitory after hours?” 

(Y/N) didn’t even have to look up at the mystery person because she could recognize that dark and silky voice from anywhere.  She let out a huge sigh of sadness and irritation before looking up and meeting the deep onyx eyes of none other than the Slytherin head of house and the most feared professor in Hogwarts. Professor Severus Snape.  (Y/N) felt a little bit of comfort knowing that Snape had found her there instead of another teacher, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t scared to be around him.  She wasn’t scared for the reasons of him being cruel, but for the reason that she had come to grown feelings for the professor. (Y/N) had excelled in potions since her third year so in her fifth, Snape had asked her to come to after class lessons to learn some more advanced potions and to help him keep his classroom as clean as it could be.  She was reluctant at first because of his notable reputation and actions towards other students, but decided to accept because it could help her in the future and would give her more time to do something she loved.  Over the two years that they have shared together, Snape has always kept up his cold and hard barrier even in a private setting, but (Y/N) had come to appreciate him for his potion making skills, intelligence, and his remarkably handsome looks that no one else ever seemed to notice.  So to have Snape be the one to find her, was a little intimidating and had her heart pounding harder than it was before. 

“I am sorry professor, I just received some very upsetting news and my body took over and started to run.  I just found a dark place and started to let everything out,” (Y/N) said with a cracking voice while looking at her professor and waiting to see if his scowl ever went away which it didn’t.  “What is so upsetting that made you feel entitled to break school rules?” Snape said with a raised eyebrow to show he was very serious about his question and conviction towards her.  (Y/N) didn’t like how her professor had no sense of empathy towards anyone and that was always one thing about him that seem to really get her mad. “Well if you must know professor, I don’t think I am entitled or better than anyone else for that matter which I know you are probably thinking as well. I just got a letter from my best friend back home and she told me she couldn’t talk to me again.  Her parents have banned her from having any type of communication from me because they said I was...” (Y/N) had to stop talking to take a deep breath before continuing because she didn't want to start crying and seem more like a child than she knew she already seemed. “Her parents said I was dangerous and I think that they think I am going to hurt (F/N) which I would never do.  So there professor, there is my bad news that you probably think is so unproblematic that you can’t understand why I would cry and better yet, run to where I could,” (Y/N) said basically spitting venom saying the last part of her statement.  She was staring at him before she dropped her gaze and just stared at the ground with clenched fists and tears in her eyes.  

“Ms. (Y/L/N), you will not speak to me in the way ever again or you will be serving detention with me for the rest of your last year at Hogwarts and I’m sure you wouldn’t enjoy that now would you?” Snape said with a sternness in his voice that you could tell he wasn’t joking around about it, as if he ever would. (Y/N) had never felt worse about herself for acting like that and disrespecting the professor she cares about the most. Through a cracking voice she was able to respond with a simple “Yes sir,” before she had tears spilling onto her cheeks. She got up off the ground and turned to walk away from the looming professor.  (Y/N) wasn’t too far away from the professor when he called to her with his dark voice. 

“Ms. (Y/L/N) stop walking and come back here. You can’t just walk away from your superiors,” Snape said with power, but never once did he raise his voice. (Y/N) stop walking, but she didn’t turn around or walk back to him. She stayed facing the way she was walking and didn’t plan doing anything besides that.  “Ms. (Y/L/N) do as you’re told and come back so we can finish this conversation,” Snape said once again obviously not letting his guard down.  (Y/N) didn’t move out of fear and anger.  She was crying because she hasn't been talked to like this by him in so long which scared her because she didn’t know if he wouldn’t let her study with him anymore or tell Professor Dumbledore that she was out of bed after hours.  Yes, she was scared, but her anger was keeping her feet glued to the floor. She hated when he made her seem much worse than she is or the situation worse so she didn’t want to see him and definitely not speak to him anymore.  She continued to ignore him and his calls to her until he said something that has never made her heart pound so hard.

“(Y/N), turn around right now and come to me or I will make you do it.” Professor Snape said with such anger in his voice. (Y/N) didn’t know whether she should be scared by his tone or doe eyed from the use of her first name, but she knew to do one thing.  She turned around to look at him with dried tears on her cheeks and fresh ones about to spill over. “Professor, I am sorry for leaving my room and the attitude. You can yell at me, give me detention, or tell Professor Dumbledore, but please don’t stop our lessons. They are the only thing that get me through my usual terrible days. I enjoy potions to lose it all. I’m sorry prof..” “(Y/N) stop it. Now.  Just come back and talk to me before I make any decision of the sort,” the angry professor said after cutting (Y/N) off from finishing her sad ramble.  She started walking back towards her professor and when she reached him, she looked at the floor and didn’t say anything. “Look at me. I know you aren’t afraid of me,” Snape said while looking down at her waiting for a response.  (Y/N) looked up and her professor and almost started crying again when she could see the disappointment in his dark eyes.  “Sir, why did you call me back just to belittle me? Your eyes say it all,” she wanted to slap herself for saying that out loud because she basically just told him that she has looked and studied him enough to know his moods by looking into his gloomy eyes.  “I didn’t call you back to “belittle” or be rude to you. I told you to come back so I could tell you that you need to talk to her no matter what her parents say.  I know that I am your teacher and I should be telling you to defy superior’s rules, but I know how difficult it is to lose a friend,” Snape said and (Y/N) could tell that he was getting upset and she wanted nothing more than to give him a hug even though he wasn’t capable of emotions. “Professor, you don’t have to tell anything personal if you do not feel comfortable about it,” she stated truly feeling bad for the man she cares about it.  “(Y/N) please stop talking and listen to me.” “Yes sir,” she replied as he continued his story. 

“When I was going to school at Hogwarts, I was never the liked kid in school and It didn’t help that I was a Slytherin and everything thinks that we are all terrible people and destined to become Death Eaters.  I had one friend and she was always loyal to me and would stand up to people who would belittle me.  One day, people had been saying things to be and for some reason I snapped.  I lost her and I had been too afraid to apologize to her and she died before I ever could.  Go talk to your friend and never let her go because you never know when either of your last days will be.”  Professor Snape looked at the ground with clenched fists as well as anger and sorrow in his eyes.  (Y/N) didn’t know what came over her, but she reached out and grabbed his hand.  She expected him to pull away and yell at her for even think about touching him, but he didn’t.  He flinched a little bit, but relaxed under her touched and gave a small squeeze back to hers.  “Professor I am so sorry for what you had to go through.  No one should ever go through that especially someone like you,” (Y/N) said with all of this newly found courage.  “Thank you for the advice and I will go right back to my dormitory and send her an owl telling her I feel about all of it. Thank you so much professor,” (Y/N) said as she gave one last squeeze to his hand and started to walk quickly back to her dormitory.  “(Y/N), always tell everyone the truth of how you feel and from now on, call me Severus in private.  I think we see each other to be on a first name basis,” Snape said and he turned around the head back to his quarters.  “Thank you again and goodnight... Severus,” (Y/N) called back to him and watched him walk away in to the shadows where he always tends to lurk before she headed back to write the letter back to an important person she can’t stand to lose. 

[texastheband]

Size does matter

By Lena Corner Taken from I-D Magazine - May 1999, Issue #186 ‘Skin & Soul’

After the rebirth of cool that was White on Blonde, Texas are finally ready to capitalise on their credibility. And for Sharleen Spiteri, this time it's personal...

Armed with a wedge of crisp tenners ready to blow at the bar, it's impossible to deny a slight tinge of disappointment when Sharleen Spiteri's choice of beverage turns out to be a cup of tea. Ask what she's doing at the weekend and she talks excitedly about staying in to await delivery of a new fridge. Getting on a domestic roll, she waxes lyrical about the draught excluders she's just fitted in her new Primrose Hill home. "I think I'm turning into my mum," she concludes.

Sharleen Spiteri may be a woman who stands accused of many things, but domestic obsession isn't one of them. She's been criticised for trying to add credibility to her soul-tinged radio-friendly rock by aligning herself with the likes of Rae and Christian and the Wu-Tang Clan. When she employed Juergen Teller to shoot the cover of Texas' 1997 album White On Blonde, it was said she brought him in an attempt to re-invent herself as a moody, hip and highly marketable frontwoman. Even her choice of boyfriend, Arena Homme Plus editor Ashley Heath, who she's been seeing for years, has been called her svengali figure, a calculated move to position herself within the sphere of all things cool. "I've never ever seen it written where someone's gone, 'Yeah Sharleen's alright, she knows what she's doing'," she says. "But it's like fuck them, who cares? Everyone seems to forget that I used to be a hairdresser, I used to do shoots constantly and teach all over the world. I was very much part of the whole industry before I was ever in a band, then suddenly it got to this point where everyone was saying Texas are trying to re-invent themselves. People want a story though, they want to invent something." When Sharleen first appeared on the cover of i-D back in March'97, readers wrote in to complain: why should we want to feature someone like Spiteri? She was old news: her debut single, I Don't Want a Lover, hit number eight way back in '89. Her records shifted millions and she'd spent far too much time at the top of the charts. In 1997, Texas were one of the most played acts on British radio. Mass market, stadium-sized exposure - how uncool is that? "I don't want to make cool music," she retorts angrily. "What is cool music? It might be cool today but it's not going to be cool tomorrow. People still talk about ‘I Don't Want A Lover’ and that was ten years ago; to me that's far cooler than writing some fucking stupid song that sold 20 copies. It's like, don't waste my time, pretentious fucks. I'm not interested in being trendy. I went through all that when I was 16. It seems it's more important nowadays to be into the right music, wear the right trainers, sit in the right bars and have the right furniture. It's too much effort, I'm too old and it's too boring." Hence her fad for draught, excluders. There was a time, though, when Sharleen did care what people thought and she'd sit through interviews desperately trying to be liked. Even so, after the third Texas album, Ricks Road, the backlash kicked in. People lost interest, the press wrote her off and Spiteri took it all very personally. The whole experience left her feeling crushed and betrayed, she says. For a while Texas plugged away on the European tour circuit; they went "where the love was". But when the tour ended in '95, Spiteri had had enough and took off to Paris for a year to live with her mate. For a while it was touch and go. But today she's got an Ivor Novello award for 'outstanding body of work' sitting on her mantelpiece and a four million-selling comeback album. Finally she realised it was time to stop caring what people thought. "We really fought to make that album," Sharleen admits. "A lot of people thought Texas had split up - some didn't know we'd ever existed - but we made a record because we believed in our ability to keep it going, we kept our values and rode it through. When people aren't interested, you really have to fight for what you believe in; we did and to come through the other end was the biggest gift anyone could ever have given us. All those people who went out and brought that record was the biggest compliment anyone could ever pay us." At the end 1997, Texas played at the Hogmanay party in Edinburgh. With the castle as a backdrop and a sky exploding with fireworks, the curtain came down on what Sharleen describes as an unbelievable, fantastic year. That moment, playing to a rapturous New Year's audience, marked the end of the White On Blonde era and two days later, still riding on the buzz, she sat down with co-writer Johnny McElhone in her Glasgow recording studio and tried to do it again. The Hush, their fifth album, is the result. "This is the Texas album we've been building up to throughout our entire history," she says. "I really do believe we've nailed it."

Sharleen describes it as sensual, a collection of moods, hence the title. They spent weeks planning the running order; it's a record, she reckons, that will take your imagination to all sorts of different places when you put it on in your bedroom. Namechecked influences remain the classic Texas roll call: "You can hear the Roxy Music influences," she says. "Abba and the Human League all mixed in with The Beatles, Marvin Gaye, AI Green and Ann Peebles." The result is pure, polished summer-tinged pop with Spiteri's syrupy, smooth vocals stronger than ever, delivered lying as usual on her back. For the album's artwork, this time Sharleen chose Gucci campaign photographer Luis Sanchez and headed out to Miami Beach where she languished in the sea for something more seductive than the pared down White On Blonde sleeve. "It was a case of let's go to the other end of the spectrum," she says, "the complete opposite of what Juergen Teller would do. He's very stripped down, very in your face. But because it's called The Hush, we wanted something shiny and glamorous. I've always loved the Roxy Music sleeves, classic late '70s album covers. It was more on that tip." The source of inspiration for one track entitled The Girl actually came from Lauryn Hill. It refers to that rare thing: a woman with money and power, with the conviction to use it exactly the way she wants to. "She's stuck to her guns and I think that's what it's all about," Sharleen says. "I'm so aware a lot of people are quite prepared to sell their soul to get what they want, but I'm not and I don't think Lauryn is either. I look at men's magazines and see all these girls on the cover; you simply cannot get on one unless you're prepared to get your tits out and so many people do. It's inspiring seeing the way Lauryn Hill does it. And then she gets called an awkward bitch for it. It's so difficult if you're a woman and you've got an opinion. It's not considered an opinion, it's a fucking attitude problem and I find that very frustrating." Inevitably Spiteri with her natural, androgynous good looks and flair for throwing together Prada with trainers has had countless offers to strip down and 'do something sexy'. But their idea of sexy, she says, is very different from her own. "Sexy is really all about imagining as opposed to seeing. That's why I love working with Juergen; his whole thing is about catching a real moment, something that you actually would do like sit in the bath. If it's all there in your face you don't even see it. But once you've shown it, you've shown it and you can't go back on it. I think it's laughable - if that's where the male sex are supposed to be at, it's very sad. Why do they have to have everything in pictures to understand how things work?" At school, Sharleen was one of those girls who were approached by the boys - but sadly never for anything she had to offer. "I'm not an archetypal beauty. Everything's a mess, my nose is all bent," she says. "It was always, Sharleen, you know your mate, sort us out a date.' I was like a pimp at school. At the time it was like, 'You bastard', but it was actually a really good way to accept the way I am." In those days, Spiteri was convinced she was going to grow up to be a designer. She gave up her Saturdays to study fashion at Glasgow School Of Art, landing her first-ever discount card for the local art supplies shop. She spent countless nights cutting and embellishing outfits, standing on the kitchen table while her long-suffering mum pinned up her latest creation at two in the morning. It's not surprising then that when Muiccia Prada approached her to model for the Miu Miu line, Spiteri turned her down flat. "You're not going to get me stuck with one designer," she says. "I love clothes too much." Back in '89, sporting tomboy denims and a Siouxie Sioux haircut, Spiteri modelled herself on Patti Smith. She made great music, she wasn't gorgeous and she wasn't blonde something to aspire to. But two years ago at the Q awards, Spiteri's mentor came crashing off her pedestal. "She did this whole thing: 'If these are all the people I've influenced then fuck it'. I thought, 'You rude cow'. PJ Harvey gave her the award - if I'd been presenting it I'd have belted her. To have been doing this for so long and to be so lucky to be doing it, she should frigging know better and she should be glad if she's influenced anyone." Since that moment, Spiteri's stopped playing Smith's music. "All I hear when I put her records on is just a really angry person. It's not good vibes to be giving out, it's like what on earth have you possibly got to be angry about?" To this day, Spiteri remains eternally, sweetly grateful for her ten years in Texas, even those spent wallowing in the European pop wilderness. "I'm always very careful what I wish for," she says. "And I never tell anyone because they'll never come true." Texas, she thinks, was something that was always meant to happen, even though when she was first asked to sing she thought it was a wanky chat up line. She carefully avoids tempting fate; insisting on being the last to walk out on stage and always locking away the first pressing of every Texas record because superstition tells her to. She refuses to court fame for fame's sake. "It's easy to be invisible if you want to be," she says. Once a crazed Biblewielding lunatic forced his way into her dressing room in France. Even though he was ousted before he got to say his piece, it was an incredibly frightening moment for her. At 32, she's thinking about having kids; attention like that isn't what she needs. Chances are, The Hush will do a White On Blonde and sell and sell, especially if Chris Evans takes it on as a personal crusade, as he has before. Next month Texas release the single In Our Lifetime. "The whole sentiment behind it is about finding yourself in a situation that's totally meant for you and taking it," Sharleen says. "You only get one chance, it's that once in a lifetime situation; you've got to grab it with both hands and never let it go." The tale of Texas possibly? The story of the girl who ditched a glittering career in hairdressing to join a band on a whim and who persevered in the face of endless criticism. Spiteri pauses for a moment. "Oh yes," she says. "I've never thought of it like that."

The Texas single, In Our Lifetime, is out on April 19 on Mercury, followed on May 10 by The Hush LP.

[yourhero404]

Sorry to bother you ꒰๑ ᷄ω ᷅꒱ I recently got dumped a week before our 1 year anniversary simply because I got mad over getting jealous that he was paying attention to another girl more than me. He called me annoying and left without much explanation I know the box is closed but if you could, can you do a short au where it’s the same situation with reader and Bakugo but Bakugo later regrets it. It’s alright if you can’t I know it’s closed in the first place But thank you for reading this ꒰´꒳`꒱

A/N: You’re no bother at all, but oh no that’s horrible! My ex did a very similar thing tbh so I can understand how upsetting the whole thing must be. My messages and inbox is always open if you need someone to lend an ear! ^^ I wasn’t sure if you wanted it to be a fluffy sort of ending, but I went with a more angsty one to really uh make sure the pain was felt by our resident hot-head 👀

BAKUGO

What had he meant by annoying?

Caring? Was caring now viewed as annoying? Was it their feelings that were annoying? The fact that they had to practically beg for his attention each day was annoying?  

No, none of that should have been annoying to him. As a significant other, they were entitled to their own feelings, and shouldn’t have to beg for even a glance in their direction each and every day. They were by no means clingy, no, nor did they demand the attention be placed on them at all moments of the day; Just a touch here, a kiss there, something to remind them that they were still on his mind and in his heart, nothing big and flashy, nothing possessive.  

They weren’t possessive. Bakugo was always free to go where he wanted, do what he wanted, and talk to who he wanted- they’d never limit him on anything because he was his own person and they admired him for his initiative to be as unique as he was as a human being. They trusted him, whole-heartedly, and allowing themselves to fall so deeply in love with him blew up in their face.

Bakugo Katsuki would never cheat. Cheating is disgusting and horrifically rude to another person. He wouldn’t dare touch another person, kiss another person, or even so much as flirt with another person if he was committed to someone; But his attention was being drawn somewhere else. He wasn’t sure it was anything romantic, or if it was even a sexual attraction- something was mysterious about this other person and thoughts of them had taken up residence in his mind, leaving no room for (Y/n) at the time. Bakugo Katsuki would never cheat, but he was also one to get answers when he needed them.

A subconscious brush against the cheek as he moved their hair, a hearty laugh when they told a joke, the far away light in Bakugo’s eyes as the two of them spoke- everyone could see it, and everyone knew that (Y/n) could too, only Bakugo was blind to his actions. Everyone would check up on them, ask if they were alright, only to be met with a gentle smile and a quick affirmation that they were okay- after all, Bakugo was free to talk and befriend whoever he’d like.

But, when had befriending included texting them at all hours of the night, secret meetings and texts, and side glances between them?

(Y/n) felt betrayed, confused, and like a damn fool. They had sat back and allowed their heart to be played like a fiddle because the grip the blonde had on their heart had been too strong. They could fix it- they could remind him that they stood right in front of him, ready to give him anything and everything he had wanted.

They’d latch onto his arm whenever the third party came around, they’d try to innocently ask who he had been texting and where he had gone on Sundays while they had hung out with the other friends he had blown off. They whined, begged, and even went so far as to finally demand some sort of answer from him, only to be met with his defensive temper.

Annoying? Wanting their boyfriend to recognize them was annoying? Wanting him to actually act like he loved them was annoying? Asking their boyfriend to stop acting as though he were cheating was fucking annoying?

Enough. They’d had enough.  

It hurt, walking through that door, as did replaying the entire scenario in their head for days and weeks afterwards. Seeing him in the halls, in photos, across campus hurt. Hearing his voice echo and bounce off the walls around them felt like the words themselves cut their skin. Watching as he doesn’t even spare them a single glance yet focuses his eyes on the other one hurt the most.

Moving on from Katsuki was a process, a damn painful one, but a process nonetheless. They’d have to glue the pieces of their heart back together and refuse to allow him back in- memories were now just memories as objects with previous meaning were just objects once more. They had grown numb to his presence now, turning a blind eye to his very existence in the world in order to help heal themselves. His friends- their friends- sympathized with (Y/n), and had vowed to help them move on, knowing that Katsuki was a fool.

He was a damn fool.

He hadn’t realized it then- all of the clingyness was a cry for help, for answers, for attention, the need to feel loved. To him, it was annoying- like a fly buzzing around the room as you attempt to focus on the work in front of you. He was on a mission then, not an important one, but one that ate away at him until it consumed all of his time. What had been so interesting about this person? Why was he drawn to them? What had him acting like this?

He loved them, (Y/n) that is, but he had been so fixated on the mystery surrounding this third party that he had mistakenly put them on the back burner.  

And he let it burn.

Oblivious, that’s what he was. He hadn’t realized how awful he had treated them nor did he realize how awful they had felt watching him give his attention to this other person. Looking back, he did show them his softer side- the one he reserved only for (Y/n)- and it had been a mistake.  

Nothing about them was special. He wasn’t attracted to them romantically nor sexually- he was attracted to their attitude; Attracted was the wrong word- he felt… threatened by the way they held themselves. They acted as though they were high and mighty, two ways he holds himself, and he mistook it for some sort of attraction. He mistook it as himself. He had chased his reflection in a mirror only to touch the cold surface once he finally caught up. He did to them that he wished upon himself- the soft touches, the late-night talks, the constant presence around him- it was a new sensation that differed from the one he got from (Y/n), but it was no match for how absolutely loved he had previously felt; And now, Katsuki was completely alone.

They were gone.

He had no choice but to watch them from afar as they laughed or smiled, as they held hands with their friends and swung them as they walked down the hall. He had no choice but to lay awake at night with his thumb hovering over the call button on his phone, knowing that (Y/n) wouldn’t answer. He had no choice but to let the tears fall as he watched someone else bask in the warmth his love had previously given him, all because he was a damn blind fool.  

If he was going to be blind, he had wished the be blinded by his sun, not the false LED light he had mistakenly chased while moving further and further away from the true sun’s love. Now, the blind was left to fend on his own, and the winter was damn cold without a sun.

[thirsttrapholland]

Yeah I'd like to request an imagine. And don't worry about how it comes out, all I have is an idea lol. I know you'll interpret it amazingly. Can you write an imagine about Tom overhearing a conversation between Y/N and her friends (black) and hearing them tell her that her and Tom don't look right together and Tom gets all upset and sad and a little insecure, but Y/N reassures him that she loves him? It doesn't have to perfect, I'd just love to see how you would write it

I don’t know if this is exactly what you wanted but i hope you like it anyway.  It was actually fun for me to write something from a concept I didn’t think of myself.  Things like that help you grow as a writer.  Also, I apparently can’t write anything that’s less than a thousand words. Let me know if you liked it, anon.

You had beennervous about introducing Tom to your friends Leslie and Sidney and judging byhow the day had gone so far, you were right to have been hesitant.   This lunchhad turned out to be one of the longest, most uncomfortable meals of your life.

While yourfriends hadn’t been blatantly rude to Tom, the reception they gave him wasdefinitely on the chilly side.  They askedmore questions than the FBI interrogating a suspect and didn’t seem particularlyimpressed with any of his answers.  Ontop of that they kept exchanging weird, knowing glances with each other when theythought you and Tom weren’t looking.

Probablypicking up on the unfriendly vibe in the room and wanting to escape the thirddegree, Tom wasted no time in finding an excuse to leave the table as soon asthe last bite of the meal had been taken. “I know you probably want to talk so I’m gonna leave you guys alone.”

“Are yousure?”  

“Yeah.  I’ve got some work I need to catch up on anyway.”  Tom gave both of your friends polite pecks onthe cheek before excusing himself from the room.  “It was nice meeting you.”  

You waiteduntil you heard the bedroom door close before addressing your friends.  “Okay, y’all have been acting funny allday.  What’s up?”

They exchangedyet another couple of looks, neither wanting to bring up what was obviouslygoing to be something you didn’t want to hear. After a moment of awkward silence, Sidney spoke.  “Listen girl, don’t take this the wrong waybut are you for real right now?”

Confusiontook over your features as you had absolutely no idea what she was referringto. “Am I for real about what?”

Leslie lookedover her shoulder, obviously checking to make sure that Tom was nowhere aroundbefore she spoke.  “What Sid means is,are you sure about this guy?”

“First ofall, he’s not ‘this guy’, his name is Tom. Second, what are y’all trying to say? Do you not like him?  Did he do orsay something to offend you while I was out of the room?”

“It’s nothinglike that,” Leslie said while shaking her head.   “He actually seems really sweet.”

“Then I don’tget it.  What’s the problem?”

Sidney hadnever been one to hold her tongue for long. “I’m just gonna say it; he’s white.”

“Oh my god,Sid.”  You gasped in fake shock.  “Thanks so much for telling me.  I might not have ever found out otherwise.”

“Okay, ifyou’re gonna have an attitude, forget I said anything.”

“I don’t havean attitude.  I just truly don’t know wherey’all are going with this.  I know thatTom is white.  So what?”

Leslie, everthe peacekeeper in your friendship, chimed in next.  “We’re not trying to be mean or get in yourbusiness, but don’t you feel weird dating somebody like him?”

You crossedyour arms over your chest as you could feel the attitude you had been accusedof having start to rise.  “And bysomebody like him, what you really mean is somebody white, right?  Do you two hear what you sound like right now?”

“Listen, heseems like a nice guy and he’s cute but—.”

Sidney abruptlycut Leslie off.  “Y’all just don’t lookgood together.  Something about it justisn’t right and we think you could do better.”

“You think Icould do better than a kind, attractive man that treats me well?  That makes no sense at all.”

Sidney leanedin closer to you and lowered her voice.  “Areyou going through something?”

“Somethinglike what exactly?”

“Is thissome sort of a phase and you just want to see what dating a white guy islike?  I mean you must know that this isn’tgoing to work out long term.  Have yourfun or whatever but somebody like him is never going to understand you.  You know that, right?”  

And on that note,you were officially over this conversation. “Okay, we’re done here.”  Youstood and walked to the door.  “It wasgreat seeing y’all and I appreciate your concerns, but I think it’s time foryou two to go.”

“We onlywant the best for you and you’re throwing us out for voicing our opinions?”  

“You’reentitled to your opinion but what you’re not gonna do is disrespect myrelationship in my own house.  So no, I’mnot throwing you out.”  You opened thedoor.  “I’m just saying its time for youto go.”

Leslie leftwith a regretful look on her face and a promise to call you later.  Sidney followed behind her in an indignant huff.  “I’ll try not to say I told you so when this relationship falls apart.”

You let thedoor fall closed behind them and started to clear your dishes from the table.  

As soon asyou turned the corner into the kitchen you saw Tom leaning against the counter.  The expression on his face a clear indicatorthat he’d heard at least some of the conversation that had taken place.  “So, they really did not like me at all, huh?”

“They don’tknow you.”

“Seemed likethey knew all they needed to.  I’m white.”

“And again,I am shocked by this brand-new information,” you deadpanned.  “How long did you think you could keep that fromme?”

“It’s notfunny.”

“I’m sorry.”  You put the dishes in the sink and went tostand beside Tom.  “You know I tell jokeswhen I’m uncomfortable.”

“I know.”  Tom let his hand fall next to yours andlinked your pinky fingers together.  “Ialso know that those are two of your oldest friends and their opinions mustmean a lot to you.”

“Both ofthose things are true and they are entitled to their opinions.  But you have to know that what they thinkdoesn’t have any effect on how I feel.”

“I know thatbut maybe they had a point.”

“What point?”

“Don’t youever worry that maybe we are too different for this to work out in the longrun?  I love you but I’m never going totruly understand what you go through or what the world is really like throughyour eyes.”

“I don’tknow what the world looks like through your eyes either.”

“That’sdifferent though.”

“Okay.  Obviously, you can’t possibly ever know whatit’s like to be a black woman but one of the things that I love most about you isthat you always try.  You listen.  You empathize.  That’s all I could ever ask of anybody.”

“So, you’renot just gonna dump me because your friends hate me?”

“First ofall, they do not hate you.  They just don’tknow you well enough yet to trust you. They’ll come around.”  You shruggedyour shoulders.  “Or they won’t.  Either way it doesn’t have anything to dowith me and the way I feel about you.”  Yourested your head against Tom’s shoulder. “I might dump you however if you don’t wash these dishes.”

Tom let outa loud sigh.  “I’ve had a veryemotionally trying day and I just don’t know if I’m going to be able to takecare of the dishes.”

“Nice trybabe, but it’s your turn.”

“Damn.”  You started to walk away but Tom pulled youback and locked you into a tight embrace. He buried his face against your shoulder.  “I love you.”

“I love youtoo.  You still gotta do those dishesthough.”

“Well, itwas worth a try.”