#no attempts at removing me from the premises today unfortunately

[wildsaltair]

the thoughts this picture gives me are so insane that even tumblr has sent me an “are you okay” message

[teddy06writes]

Free (The Much Needed Part Two of Locked Away)

okay so this was requested by @5ugarcan3 who asked: “ PLEEEASE if its not 2 much trouble i’d love to see pt 2 to the sam x reader prison fic where its fluffy n stuff :( u broke my heart with the ending “

As well as @unalive-mee who left this reply on the first part: “ damnnn that was so good, would love to see a part two where they respawn and that was one of their canon lives because this broke me”

So I have been forced to see that I cannot just leave it there unfortunately so check out Part One if you haven’t already, just so you know what's been going on {low key I’m doing this begrudgingly, can you tell?}

{I mean can you blame me? I was so proud of the way I broke people}

{Alright enough stalling, here we go...}

Awesamdude x fem!reader

trigger warnings: a few swears, mentions of previous character death, slight panic attack

premise: Though you’d long since respawned after the incident at the prison, and you were sure Dream was out of your head, Sapnap, BBH and a few others still thought it was a good idea to keep you mostly isolated, until one day...

{Also the Bloodvines aren’t a thing here}

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

You sighed, blinking sleep out of your eyes as sunlight filtered through the half closed window. 

Slowly you sat up, looking around the tiny bedroom you’d been given, tucked up into the corner of Bad and Skeppy’s mansion. You’d been given relative run of this corridor, but you were still stuck inside. 

At least, you reminded yourself, it’s not prison. 

You went to the window, looking out over the wood, absently tracing one of the many scars that had appeared after you’d respawned, they had always told you that it was from what Dream had made you do, and all the people you’d fought. 

The day had barley begun, and you had only just finished getting dressed properly when a loud explosion echoed over the hills. 

“What the hell was that?” You demanded, already starting toward the stairs at a run. 

On the main floor you could hear Bad yell, “Stay with (y/n)! Keep her in here!” 

Moments later you crashed into Skeppy on the stairs, both of you quickly springing back up in a panic you yelling, “What’s happening?!” 

“Go back upstairs- it’s being sorted!” He said quickly, trying to shove you back up the stairs. 

“At lease tell me what's going on!” You cried desperately. 

The diamond man sighed, “Its Dream-”  

“He’s back?” You immediately went to shove by him. 

“Stop!” Skeppy yelled, latching onto your arm and starting to pull you back to the stairs, “You can’t help them! We don’t know if he’s still in your head or not! If your in the middle of helping them take him down and he takes over again-”

You hung your head in defeat, “There's no telling what would happen.” 

He nodded, and together you slowly climbed the stairs, reaching your room in a matter of minutes, “I’m going to have to lock you in here.” 

“Probably for the best.” You murmured, shuffling inside and sitting down on the bed, watching as Skeppy closed the door, the lock clicking into place, followed by the telltale sound of him blocking the door up. 

~~

Sam watched as Dream staggered to his feet, facing the entirety of he army that had amassed, his expression seeming unfazed, “That all you got?” 

“Not even close bitch.” Tommy said, staring back as he drew his sword. 

Dream sighed, looking around before hefting his axe, using his other hand to bite off another piece of golden apple, downing a strength potion as well, “When will you ever learn?” 

In a flash he was lunging at the boy, who barley had time to throw up his shield to block the attack, shoving Dream back, following him into the middle of the field, “I think I’ve had my share of lessons.” 

From the side, several people drew there bows, knocking arrows and letting them rain around Dream, who began to struggle to dodge them.

Tubbo motioned for a momentary cease in fire and Tommy lunged forward, the tip of hiss bald connecting with Dreams arm. In retaliation the man nearly screamed, practically tripping over himself to slash at Tommy, who barley dodged enough, a shallow cut now lining his leg. 

Technoblade handed Sam a splash potion, murmuring, “healing.” in the moments before Sam lobbed the bottle Tommy’s direction. 

“’is ones harmin.” 

Sam took it from the piglin, using the gap between Tommy and Dream, the archers now firing around Dream again, to throw the potion, grinning as it splashed just at Dream’s feet. 

The man nearly fell to the ground, quickly twisting out of the way of another arrow, concentration clear on his face, though yet again it was clear his focus was on nothing near the battle. 

Tommy grinned, taking the time to push forward, shoving Dream the rest of the way to the ground, preparing to run him through, “Any last words Green bitch?” 

“Go to hell,” Dream spat, reaching up to grab Tommy’s hands, shoving the sword down, into his chest, “I’ll see you there.” 

Tommy looked up, a slight gasp escaping as he turned to the army, grin spreading, “We did it! Tubbo we did it!” 

There were cheers all around, people hugging and laughing and crying. 

Techno and Sam stood to the side, the former looking at the latter warily, “If you try to hug me I will literally kill you, no hesitation.” 

Sam nearly laughed, “No- there's someone else I’d rather be hugging.” 

As if on cue, Bad came running toward them, “Sam! Sam we need to talk!” 

“About what?” 

A smile crept onto the demons face, “(y/n)- she’s- well I figured it was best to tell you now, and not before cause you know, we didn’t know if he- but never mind that! (Y/n)s alive, come on!” 

The Next thing Sam knew he was being dragged off to Bad’s house, yelling, “But you said that was her last life!” 

20 minutes later they made it up to your room as Skeppy finished removing the last of the obsidian, Bad reassuring, “It was a temporary percuasion, just because of what was going on today.” 

Slowly, Sam opened the door, looking around to find you, looking battered and bruised from your attempts at throwing yourself at the door to escape, curled in the corner, hands tightly gripping your hair, eyes squeezed shut. 

The (y/n) he could last remember, cold and cruel, unforgiving and harsh now seemed broken. 

He slowly knelt in front of you, “(y/n)?” 

Your head jerked up at Sam’s voice, and he could see the wide smile on your face as you rushed forward, grabbing his hands, “Sam! I’m- I’m free!” 

His arms were quick to wrap around you, a smile now on his face upon seeing that you were no longer the monster he could remember, just the person you once were, repeating, “Free.” 

[shadow-dancing]

Some (썸)

Part of a Sports AU collab hosted by @leesmrk​

Dedicated to Dee —🌿 Inspired by a fan video of Denis Ten & Yuna Kim, as well as Robbie Williams.

Words: 4,052 Genre: sports AU, figure skater!jisung 

Listen: She’s the One ; Vuelie ; Some (썸)

The figure skating competitions at the Winter Olympics came to an end with the conclusion of the free skate for Ladies' singles. It was your first time representing your country at the Olympics, & you had clocked in at 140 points, landing you at 5th place.  

The event after the competitions was the Gala Exhibition, where the individual & pair skaters who either won or were close to winning a medal got to perform routines—showcasing each skater's personality & performing tricks— followed by a group skating. You were one of the selected skaters to perform, & while you could hardly wait to perform the routine for your individual program, you were incredibly nervous for the group dance.  

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

[Practice Day 1; 5PM] 

You panted, finishing your individual routine with a flourish. Yulia, a fellow skater clapped, praising you. You laughed & curtseyed dramatically, thanking her as you skated off to grab some water from the bench. There were a few people in the audience who had come to watch the practice & they waved at you; you waved back.  

"ALRIGHT EVERYONE GATHER IN THE MIDDLE!" A voice boomed over the speakers, almost making you choke on your water.  

You turned just as a burly man jostled into your arm; the man apologized curtly as he walked off. Unfortunately, you had forgotten to cap your bottle, & some of the contents splashed onto the windbreaker of the skater near you. You gasped, & the skater looked down at the wet patch on his jacket. You recognized him—tall & baby-faced, Park Jisung was the 19-year-old gold medallist of the men's singles. He was well known for his agility & grace, as well as his ability to execute triple Axels with ease. Jisung was immensely popular amongst skaters; you've heard people say he was very friendly & funny, & got along with everyone. You had never spoken to him, as you saw yourself as a mere nobody amongst the industry giants. & now you had blown the chance to make a good impression. 

"I am so sorry!" You wailed as you juggled between capping the bottle & grabbing a towel to wipe the water.  

"No, don't worry! It'll dry," he assured you with a wide smile. With that, he pulled off his blade guards & set it on the side before he entered the rink. You stared after him, quickly following. 

All skaters made their way to the centre, where the burly man stood, a mic in one hand & a clipboard in the other; a silver whistle hung around his neck. He introduced himself as Mr. Khan, the choreographer for the group dance, & gave a brief rundown of the group dance. You swallowed nervously—for the first part of the group dance, individual male & female skaters would pair up, & have a sort of waltz on the ice. Immediately people began excitingly searching for pairs, making a racket as they talked up a storm with who they wanted to partner up with, but Mr. Khan blew the whistle around his neck.  

"Quiet down, I will pair you guys up!" He said, turning to his clipboard as skaters erupted in groans of dismay.  

One by one, skaters were paired up, & then it was your turn. By this point only a few skaters were left, & you really hoped you were paired with someone you were familiar with. 

"Y/N!" Mr. Khan barked. You raised a tentative hand. "With Mr. Park Jisung!"  

You swallowed. Skaters & the crowd oohed & aahed, congratulating you as you made your way over to the gold medallist, whose faded pink hair made him stand out among the crowd. His face showed obvious signs that he had no idea whose name was just called, but his eyebrows shot up as you sidled up to him. 

"Oh hello, it's you! I'm Jisung," he smiled, nodding politely.  

"H-Hi, I'm Y/N," you introduced, holding out a hand.  

Jisung took it, gave your hand one firm shake, & you both proceeded to stand next to each other in silence, watching the other skaters chat livelily with their partners. You felt incredibly small standing next to the gold medallist, having won no medals yourself. Jisung on the other hand, felt very shy being paired with a girl, especially you—he had no idea who you were but he found the meet cute between the both of you funny, like something out of a romcom.  

Mr. Khan called for everyone to listen up as he began to play the music that was to be used for the group dance—Love Story, by Richard Clayderman. He arranged all skaters into groups by gender, with females standing in front of the males in 3 rows, & males behind in 3 rows. He gave a demonstration of the first choreography for females, where they were to skate forward, make 4 loops, & stop at the end of the rink to address the audience, before facing behind to hold both arms out to the males. Males will then skate forward, make 3 loops, & reach out to the females. Taking their partner's hand, the couples will break into 2 groups & sort of waltz with their partners. After 5 practices of the first part of the choreo, it was time to waltz.  

"Excuse me, may I use you to demonstrate the closed hold?" Mr. Khan asked, addressing you & Jisung. He shrugged, looking to you for permission. You nodded, & Mr. Khan pulled you both out, speaking into the mic to get everyone's attention. 

"Face your partner; males, step to the left a bit. Ladies, left hand on men's upper arm near the shoulder!" Mr. Khan instructed. You rested your left hand on Jisung's upper arm, ignoring the need to admire how well developed his biceps were. You could hear screams & hoots from the audience. 

"Men, hold the ladies' right hand in your left, & put your right palm on the ladies' shoulder blade, on the bra strap." 

Jisung took your hand without hesitation, but at the mention of where his other hand was supposed to go, he looked at you in alarm, the panic obvious in his eyes. Your face was on fire, but you nodded. He flushed, but pressed his right palm on your shoulder blade, avoiding eye contact with you.  

"Okay now sway side to side with your partner! Sway with grace!" Mr. Khan said, swaying like seagrass against the ocean currents. 

You & Jisung swayed... Not so gracefully. In fact, you were as stiff as a board—as if the fact you were holding a man so close wasn't bad enough, the whole world will have their eyes on Jisung during the gala, & you feared making him look bad. Jisung on the other hand, was equally stiff—he felt incredibly awkward holding you intimately when he couldn't even look you in the eye, & was worried he was making you uncomfortable. 

"Hey don't be so stiff—you two look like drunk octopuses! Loosen up & sway like a lazy ocean hugs the shore! Be the epitome of grace!" Mr. Khan commented as he skated by, checking up on each couple.  

You slouched, a nasty pit of anxiety swirling within you. Jisung noticed the further drop in your confidence, & wanted to say something to lighten the mood but he didn't want to say something that would make the situation worse, opting to keep his mouth shut instead. You both attempted to sway much more gracefully, but Mr. Khan's sigh of disappointment was proof it wasn't going well. 

3 excruciatingly long hours passed before you were allowed to leave the rink for the day. You broke away from Jisung immediately, giving him a small bow before leaving the rink quickly. Jisung watched you speed walk to the back after slipping on your blade guards, his heart heavy. You sat in one of the bathroom stalls, wiping the hot tears that fell—you were making a fool of yourself with your nerves, & worse of all, you were probably embarrassing Jisung too. 

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

[Practice Day 2; 7AM] 

Jisung awoke from an exhausting sleep, having tossed & turned all night. He felt awful; after you had exited the rink, Ten, a friend & the silver medallist, told him you were clearly uncomfortable, & this ate at him—he wished he had said something to break the ice between the both of you sooner.  

He was determined to set things right today. He informed his coach he was leaving the Olympic Village for a bit to get something, & used the bicycle-sharing system to bike into town.  

Jisung stopped in front of a little florist. He peered through the glass doors—it looked like a mini greenhouse with flowers & leaves everywhere. Gingerly, Jisung pushed open the door, & was greeted by a little old lady who was forming a heart shape with some roses. Next to her was a huge flower display, bursting with bright colours.  

"Hello dear. Wait please, I'll get my grandson to help you," she smiled as she hobbled to the back.  

Jisung looked around at the abundance of different flowers, a thought suddenly occurring to him—he had no idea what to get you.  

"Hi there, how can I help you?" A very tall man, with jet black hair & a cheeky glint in his eyes, approached Jisung. Jisung glanced at his name tag—Johnny.  

"Hello. Ah, I'm looking for... A flower to give my skating partner," Jisung mumbled.  

"Skating... Oh? You're that 2-time Olympic gold medallist, Park Jisung!" Johnny gasped, giddy with excitement. He straightened up & recomposed himself, & held a hand out. Jisung shook it.  

"But aren’t you a single skater?" 

"I am, but I have a partner for the gala. I, uh, made her feel uncomfortable & awkward during practice yesterday, & I wanted to make amends," Jisung confessed, heat rising in his cheeks as he remembered yesterday's events.  

"Okay. Anything in mind?" 

"I was hoping you could help me." 

"Sure. What's she like?" 

"I don't actually know." 

"Then, is there anything you'd like to tell her?" 

Jisung paused. He wanted to say many things—he wanted to apologize, say something to ease up the tension, & mostly, he wanted to befriend you.   

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

"Can we start over?"  

You blinked, registering the question. Jisung had appeared at your room, out of breath, & hammered at your door so hard the someone called the security guard to remove him from the premises. After apologizing to the guard, Jisung pulled a yellow daffodil—wrapped in a plastic package & tied off with a pink ribbon—out from the bag in hand & thrusted it into your face as he blurted out the question.  

"Ah, sorry. Let me start again," Jisung corrected himself, facepalming. "I want to say, I'm sorry with how we hit off yesterday, & I want to start over. Can we?" 

"YES WE CAN!" Your roommate, Irene, yelled from the balcony, where she was hanging clothes.  

"IRENE!" You screamed in horror, throwing your disposable slipper at her. She laughed as she closed the sliding door, & your flimsy sponge footwear bounced off the glass harmlessly. 

Steam was practically coming out of your ears as you hid your face in utter embarrassment. Jisung failed to hide his amused smile, but held the flower out once more. You hung your head, but took the flower, looking up momentarily to give him an embarrassed smile.  

"Thank you for this." 

"Shall we go practice our waltz?" 

"Okay, I'll just put this here..." you quickly placed the daffodil on your nightstand, grabbed your bag & shoes, & shot Irene a look as she giggled. You closed the door, & faced Jisung. "Alright, let's go." 

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

"Okay, no breaking eye contact, yeah?" Jisung reaffirmed. You nodded. 

You both got into your closed hold, eyes trained on each other, never breaking away even when swaying, which was more twisting than swaying as you both swayed at your own rhythm, pace awkwardly unmatched. Skaters who passed by eyed you both weirdly. It was definitely awkward continuing to stare at each other for longer than necessary, & you looked away first, much to both your relief.  

"What was that?" Ten asked, face scrunched & arms crossed—Jisung had asked him to spectate & give pointers. "It looked more like an intense staredown at a punching ring than an intimate dance." 

"You're both as stiff as a pine tree, both trying to be the lead. Let Jisung lead, & you follow!" Ten instructed pointedly at you.  

"Trust each other. Once you're as loose as a ripe durian, you fall—" Ten dramatically keeled backwards, free falling. Jisung let go of you quickly as he shot forward to grab Ten, who laughed in delight, by the front of his windbreaker. "& you trust this guy here to catch you. Wanna try?" 

"Next time I'm letting you hit the ice," Jisung grumbled as skated over to you, & you held your hand out for him to take. You looked up at Jisung, & he stared down at you. Relax, trust him, let him lead. 

You relaxed into his hold, & held his hand firmly. He swayed, & you followed in his rhythm. He led you into a gentle sway, & your pulse quickened at he stepped aside to twirl you. He pulled you back into his tender embrace, & Jisung's breath hitched in his throat at how close you were when you came to a stop.  

"EVERYONE GATHER AROUND FOR REHEARSALS!"  

Ten groaned, rolling his eyes. "Way to ruin the moment, Mr. Khan." 

Mr. Khan had everyone run through the routine. Everyone got in their positions, & Mr. Khan cued for the song. You readied yourself & pushed forward with the rest of the female skaters, making your loops, addressing the audience, & turning back to await the males.  

An idea formed in Jisung's head & he dropped on one knee as he glided to you, arms open as if he were welcoming a hug; he pouted his lips & stuck his chin up in a faux gentleman persona. You chuckled & amused him; you received him with arms dramatically outstretched & knees slightly bent, like a curtsey. He broke character, giggling as he enclosed his hand around yours; you pulled him up, & he spun you in his arms before slowly dipping you, careful not to lean you back too much or risk concussing you on the ice. Jisung's heart skipped a beat as you squealed with ecstatic laughter.  

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

[D-day; 3PM] 

Jisung examined his appearance in the long changing room mirrors. He spent an hour poking his eyeballs out while putting on blue coloured contacts; he managed to find a fellow skater to put brown eyeshadow & light touches of red lipstick on his face so his features could be seen.  

He wore a getup akin to Anna from the movie Frozen as his music choice was Vuelie, the opening to the movie. His top had a light to dark blue gradient, with a mandarin collar & poet sleeves. A gold waistband wrapped snugly around his waist, & his black trousers had some gold accents going up his pant leg as a nod to the gold patterns on Anna's boots. He had a short magenta cloth that cascaded down his left shoulder like a mini cape, pinned in place by a silver leaf cape clip on his left collar bone & linked to his top button with a silver chain.  

"Looking good, Jisung!" Ten sang as he skipped by, dressed in a black shirt & white pants with a red cloth tied around one of his belt loops. 

"Thank you. I'll see you out there," Jisung waved as he walked out the changing room.  

Out on the rink, he took in the sight of the dozens of excited skaters warming up on ice, whizzing by in their unique outfits & updos. The seats were packed with people, their cheers echoing through the stadium. Jisung removed his blade guards & stepped out on the ice to practice his individual routine. The rush of the wind was against his face as he sped down the rink, executing his jumps & spins flawlessly. He spun to a stop, almost clocking you in the face when he raised his arm.  

" Whoa Y/N! I'm sorry!" He said quickly, moving his arm.  

"It's fine, I shouldn't have come so close," you assured him. You held your head up & put your hands on your hip, posing dramatically to show off your dress. "What do you think?" 

Jisung took in your appearance—you were dressed in black from head to toe, with a black empire dress with sheer bishop sleeves; intricately sewn diamonds on your dress sparkled in the bright lights of the stadium. You had bold dark eyeshadow, & your glittering hair was brushed back into a ponytail. 

"You look very pretty," Jisung said earnestly.  

"Thank you. You look very princely yourself," you smiled, adjusting his cape straight. "Would you like a few rounds around the rink?" 

Jisung took your hand in response, & pulled you forward. You both went around the rink several times, practicing the part of the group choreography that came after the waltz. Soon the lights cut off, signifying the start of the event as all skaters got off the rink.  

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

As the piano slowed & She's the One by Robbie Williams slowly came to an end, you finished your routine with a spin, your arms hugging your shoulders; you opened them, dropping into a bow as the audience gave a round of applause. You waved, exiting quickly so the next skater could come on. Jisung waited at the side, holding out some water for you.  

"That was lovely, I liked your song!" Jisung spoke into your ear as he handed you the bottle.  

"It was what got me into skating in the first place, I wouldn't be here if not for it," you panted, taking a swig of water.  

"I should be grateful for it, then, otherwise I wouldn't have met you." 

You choked, your heartbeat picking up as heat rose in your cheeks. Jisung thumped you on the back, asking if you were okay as you coughed. You nodded. Jisung continued to pat you on the back gently until your coughing fit died down, & by that time, it was his turn.  

"All the best!" You gasped out. He nodded & left.  

You swallowed the ticklish sensation with a quick gulp of water, eager to watch Jisung's performance. Vuelie came on, filling the stadium with the powerful vocals of the Norwegian female choir, Cantus. Jisung hit his choreography hard, executing multiple turns & jumps along while bobbing his head along to the vocalisation. With a deep breath, he glided forward to perform a difficult triple Axel & quadruple toe loop combination he wouldn't dare attempt in a competition. A diapason of applause came from the audience & skaters alike, as his routine came to an end with a final sit spin. Jisung gasped for air, catching his breath as he bowed to the audience. He turned, catching sight of you clapping with all your might, your eyes lit up & shining in the fancy stadium lights. Heart racing & cheeks flushed; he made his way over to you; you held your hand out, & he grasped it as he put on his blade guards.  

"You were absolutely brilliant! Especially the triple axel & quad toe combo!" You praised, brushing some hair out of his eyes.  

Jisung flushed, mumbling a thanks. People were starting to stare as you went on holding his hand, & his blush deepened; not that it could be seen in the dim lights. You finally realized people were staring—especially focused on you holding onto Jisung's hand. You jerked away quickly, cheeks burning; Jisung's face fell, but said nothing.  

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

Gingerly, you pushed forward into a smooth glide with your peers as the music cued; the audience clapped & waved as you all opened your arms out towards them. You turned back, focusing solely on Jisung—he slid forward with the male skaters, completed his loops without a hitch & made his way to you on one knee, arms opened. You grasped his hands, & he entwined his fingers with yours as he pulled you into the closed hold. You felt delicately light, as Jisung gently swayed you to the melody & gave you a careful twirl.  

You wished the tender moment lasted a little longer, but the tempo picked up as Love Story faded into Chopin's Minute Waltz. You kept next to Jisung as all skaters began to circle the rink, performing inside & outside parallel spread eagle with their partners, spinning twice before finally breaking away to perform the skater's preferred jump choice. You struck the ice with your toe pick, propelling yourself into a triple Lutz while Jisung swept himself into a triple Axel. Jisung slid forward & set his hand around your waist, gently pulling you forward to circle the rink with the rest of the skaters once more, before gathering at the centre of the ice for a massive group hug with your peers. The audience brought the house down as they screamed & clapped; you lined up with the skaters, & dipped into a deep bow to the audience. One of your fellow skaters brought out a selfie stick & their phone, calling for everyone to gather around for a wefie. Jisung slung his arms around your shoulder, & you leaned your head on the crook of his neck, smiling widely as the photo was taken. Jisung almost fainted with joy but managed to grin for the camera.  

You hung back to wave & take photos from the audience, & a child even gave you a fat dolphin plush, much to your delight. You rubbed the child's hair, thanking him, & waved to him one last time as you made your way to the exit. You make your way backstage, adrenaline coursing through your vein as you slipped on your windbreaker, the dolphin tucked safely under your arm. You curled your fingers into a fist to warm the tips of your fingers a little—it was getting pretty cold now that you were drenched in sweat. 

"Y/N!" 

You turned to see Jisung dashing over to you, struggling to pull on his jacket while holding a large bouquet of roses & his water bottle at the same time.  

"Here let me hold that," you offered, taking his water bottle & reaching for the roses next, but Jisung shook his head. He stopped fidgeting with his jacket, & held the roses out to you. 

"W-Would you like to have dinner with me?" He stammered, very red in the face.  

"Me?" You asked in disbelief, your cheeks starting to tingle as heat rose. 

"Yeah," he nodded, hiding his face behind the bouquet. "If-if you want to, of course!"  

You gaped, mouth opening & shutting like a fish. Jisung pursed his lips, awaiting your answer.  

Finally, you found your voice. "Yes, I would love to."  

Jisung's eyes brightened, & he took his bottle from you as held out the roses to you once more. You accepted the roses, taking in how pretty the flower arrangement was.  

"This is really beautiful, thank you," you grinned, holding out your free hand to him—he closed his huge palms around yours, warming your frozen fingertips.  

"Where should we go?"  

"I'll go wherever you go." 

"Then... I know a nice place nearby. Shall we?" 

"Let's." 

Smiling uncontrollably & heart hammering in his chest, he pulled you forward gently, walking in front so you didn't have to see how incredibly red he was getting.  You were partially hiding your face in your flowers, your neck & cheeks burning & your stomach doing happy flip flops.  

You both passed Ten, who was filling up his water bottle. He eyed Jisung's red face, how you were hiding your own face, & the hand holding.  

"You two a thing now?" He smirked, raising an eyebrow suggestively.  

"NO!" You both yelled in unison, hurrying out in embarrassment.  

Ten stared after you both, blinking in confusion.   

"Kids these days," he chuckled, going back to filling his bottle. 

- 完

[bestworstcase]

more than once you've said "the tts fandom can't write x character, or can't write y character," but have you considered that maybe they can write them fine, you've just built up your desired interpretations of these characters? you give off this condescending attitude, like ONLY YOU can write tts characters accurately, ONLY YOU understand them, & any interpretations that don't in some way align with what you think are WRONG. this has become more apparent as you've worked through bitter snow

let’s discuss king frederic, and how he is often characterized in fanworks vs how he is characterized in the show. 

now... i think we can all agree that frederic is at best a mediocre father and a not especially good king, that in his worst moments he steps over the line into emotional abuse vis a vis his treatment of rapunzel, and that the avoidant head-in-the-sand approach he takes to the black rock problem in s1 causes widespread pain, unnecessary panic, and does not improve the situation whatsoever. 

he is widely disliked in the fandom for very good reason

however! it is difficult, though hardly impossible, to find fic where frederic acts or speaks... like frederic, for one very simple reason: the fandom, by and large, as a group, writes frederic as an angry, abusive man who blows up when he is confronted with the many, many things he does wrong. often this takes the form of a character, or characters, getting up in front of him and rattling off his list of crimes, real or perceived, followed by him basically throwing a tantrum.

canon frederic, to put it bluntly, does not do that. 

exhibit a: caine’s confrontation of frederic in before ever after.

caine sets up exactly the scenario that in the average tts fanfic would end with frederic yelling / blustering / furiously denying the accusations, plus she does it while rounding up all his guests and putting them in cage to haul them off and, presumably, kill them somewhere. like. the stakes are life or death and this is an extremely stressful situation for everyone involved.

and this is how that conversation goes down: 

FRED: Release my guests immediately!

CAINE: What’s the matter, Fred? Am I ruining your perfect day?

RAPUNZEL: ...The Duchess?

CAINE: Oh, honey. I am no Duchess.

RAPUNZEL: I don’t understand.

CAINE: Of course you wouldn’t, Rapunzel, but try to follow along. This is all your fault.

RAPUNZEL: What?!

CAINE: You see, after your untimely... disappearance, your father locked up every criminal in the kingdom... including a simple petty thief. My father. I saw him thrown into a cage and hauled off like some animal, never to be seen again. So... I thought I’d come back, and return the favor. 

[the wagon rolls in]

CAINE: Load ‘em up, boys! Your turn, Your Majesty. 

[Frederic moves to shield Rapunzel; Caine snickers.]

CAINE: Oh, come on, you didn’t think we’d leave our prized pig in the pen, did you?

RAPUNZEL: [as Caine’s gang drags Frederic toward the wagon] Dad—

FREDERIC: Rapunzel, stay back. 

RAPUNZEL: But—

FREDERIC: No. There’s nothing you can do. As your father and your king, I command you to stay put. 

there are two key points that i want to make here, because they diverge significantly from the way frederic is characterized in analogous scenarios in fanfics, like, 90% of the time. 

1) fred doesn’t get angry. he doesn’t bluster or yell. he orders caine to release his guests, and when she refuses, he gets quiet. he does not interrupt caine’s rant, he does not even try to deny her accusations, and he doesn’t stomp around escalating the situation even while caine is prancing around waving a sword in his daughter’s face or literally poking him in the chest. 

he stays calm. 

2) fred’s primary, overriding concern is for rapunzel’s safety, and the safety of his guests. not his own. he does not struggle when caine’s men lead him away. he protests on behalf of his guests, but not himself, and he attempts to physically shield rapunzel from harm before he is dragged away. he doesn’t waste his breath trying to argue with caine, but he does tell rapunzel firmly not to put herself in danger trying to rescue him. 

now... there are plenty of ways to interpret why frederic behaves this way, and my personal take is certainly not the only possible one. but the behavior itself, the staying calm in the face of a crisis, while someone is in his face threatening him, his family, and his guests and making pretty charged accusation, is a) objectively playing out on the screen and b) directly at odds with the way frederic most often acts in fanfics. 

exhibit b: mood-swapped frederic blows up just like fanon frederic constantly does

and this is the only time we ever see frederic lose his temper like this in the entire series. again, this is not a matter of interpretation: this is just plainly what happens on the screen. when he is in his right mind, frederic is not a “scream accusations, whip out a sword, and impulsively declare war or attack someone because he’s mad” sort of person, and to say that he is really like that, deep down, is just as silly as trying to argue that cass really is a peppy, soft-hearted, affectionate pushover, or that eugene really is too riddled-with self-doubt and anxiety to make any decisions, or that rapunzel really is a grouchy, moody, misanthropic person. the mood potion makes everyone act like fundamentally different versions of themselves; their behavior is, literally, out of character for their normal, not high-off-their-asses-on-a-magical-potion selves. 

exhibit c: the angry mob in secrets of the sundrop

like with caine, this confrontation kicks off with a premise that should be pretty familiar to anyone who reads any fic featuring frederic at all, ie everybody is pissed at frederic and there is literally an enraged mob screaming for justice in the throne room. and that goes like this:

[everybody shouting in angry panic]

FREDERIC: People... [raising his voice to be heard] Citizens, please! Listen to me!

[Max rears and whinnies to get everyone’s attention, and the shouting dwindles away.]

FREDERIC: I will not lie to you any longer. Corona is in grave danger. The queen has been taken; over half our royal guard lie wounded; and these black rocks draw ever closer.

[the shouting begins to pick up again]

EUGENE: Uh, sir, hi, yeah—if there’s a ‘but’ in this speech, you probably want to cut to it right now. 

FREDERIC: But I look at you, and I don’t just see subjects. I see friends, family; strong, brave individuals who have stood by each other, side-by-side, and have never, ever backed down from a fight! Today, we face a danger like none before. As your king, your friend, and as your brother, I ask you to fight one more time. For Corona!

again, key points: 

1) frederic does not deny, bluster, shout down, or otherwise attempt to refute the basic point that he bungled the black rock situation. he did bungle it, and he knows that [this scene is preceded by him spelling out the full extent of his failures to rapunzel and openly admitting guilt]. through his behavior, he demonstrates that he accepts culpability for the situation and implicitly accepts the legitimacy of the crowd’s anger. 

2) he raises his voice only so he can be heard above the shouting, and as soon as folks quiet down, he drops to a reasonable volume again. his mood is grim, but he isn’t angry. he projects calm. 

3) eugene is nervous about frederic losing control of the crowd and accidentally causing a riot or something; frederic is not. 

4) instead of denying the crowd’s anger, frederic tries to reframe the problem for them: yes, things are bad, but they are strong and brave and we can all work together to put things right. he doesn’t shout them down; he seeks to inspire them. 

and 5) when frederic says “we face a danger,” he means that. the very next thing he does after giving this speech is go straight to the frontlines to fight in the same battle he’s asking everyone else to join in. he's not asking them to do anything he isn’t willing to do himself. 

which... i would argue even more than the caine confrontation in BEA, is diametrically opposed to the way the typical fanon frederic would respond to an angry mob situation, because the typical fanon frederic is a very angry, aggressive man, and that... simply isn’t who frederic is. he’s calm, he’s knows how to work a crowd, he knows how to use his authority to achieve his goals without browbeating or threatening. 

even when he does get angry—such as his instinctive reaction to arianna’s kidnapping, when he jumps first to “we will invade old corona”—he doesn’t yell or stomp around or throw tantrum. he gets stiff and rather cold and makes an impulsive judgment call... but then he takes some time to brood by himself, calms down, talks things out with rapunzel, admits his failures, and doesn’t follow through with the impulsive order he made in the heat of the moment. 

like... flat out, he is not an angry man.

and it’s frustrating, when i go to read fanfic and frederic is overwhelmingly characterized as this hapless angry shouty abusive person, because it is breathtakingly far removed from how he acts in canon, and i like frederic as a character. i find him very interesting, and it’s not fun to read fics where everything that makes him interesting is taken away and replaced with this sort of one-note Shouty Angry King/Bad Dad Whom Everyone Hates. and that applies, unfortunately, to a very large number of the types of fics i like to read (namely, long canon exploratory or canon divergent fics, etc)

anyway,

i am perfectly happy to read interpretations of the tts characters that do not mesh well, or are even wholly incompatible with, my own. 

but i do expect, as a minimum, characters to behave more or less the way they behave in canon unless there is a clear reason for them to be different. i expect varian to be nerdy and chaotic and a bit of a disaster, for example. i expect adira to be aloof, blunt, and perhaps a touch arrogant. i expect cassandra to be ambitious and frustrated and prone to self-sabotage and envy. i expect lance to be laid back and eugene to be a bit vain. i expect the captain to be gruff and very tight-laced. and i expect frederic to act like a politician who is in control of his feelings but sort of cowardly at heart, because that’s how frederic acts in the show. 

i hold myself to these standards too. a ton of my editing process is “hm does this character really talk like this? is this how they would react to this situation?” and then going through and rewatching scenes or whole episodes and trying to find roughly analogous emotional beats or situations to sort of gauge whether i’m hitting the mark or not; it’s very difficult and i work hard on it and do not always succeed... and this does make me a bit picky about characterization in fics i’m reading, yeah, because it’s... always at the forefront of my mind. and then yes i post about it here, because this is the hyperfixation landfill where i dump my tts-adjacent thoughts. 

¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

of course, you’re welcome to unfollow me if you do not enjoy reading what i post. it’s important to curate an online experience that you enjoy! if my general demeanor irritates you, you don’t need to inflict yourself with it.

[smolbeandrabbles]

Sweet Spot - Danny Rayburn x Reader (Bloodline)

Sway: Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6  / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

All I Want For Christmas / When I See You Smile / Good Woman

@mandy23b​ @wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ #mendotagsquad

GIF CREDIT: X

Author’s Note: Haha - So, this Midweek is my Sway Anniversary, and to celebrate this, I uhm... came up with an Anniversary fic for your Mendo Midweek-!! 😉

That’s literally all I wrote this for but I hope you can still enjoy it for what it is! 😁

Sweet Spot - Kim Petras ❤

Disclaimer: Bloodline characters not mine / All OCs are from Sway but you don’t necessarily have to know who they all are at all. / lyrics + gifs not mine!

Premise: Danny is always full of surprises - but it’s your anniversary today, and you wanna surprise him. If he doesn’t get too mad with you first!

Words: 2774

Warnings: Swearing / Drinking...sorta. / sexual connotations

____

See you dancin' like you wantin' my attention See you dancin', see you dancin' Now your body's movin' into my direction My direction, my direction

Baby, what you waiting for? You got the green light Don't you hold back no more Let's live our best life Everybody wants to leave here with somebody Everybody, everybody Time of night we start to dip into the candy Give it to me, give it to me

Baby, what you waiting for? You got the green light Don't you hold back no more Let's live our best life

So baby don't stop, don't stop We're getting to the sweet spot, sweet spot Baby it's a sure shot, sure shot We're getting to the sweet spot, sweet spot

I wanna with you, I wanna with you I wanna with you, I wanna with you 

---

Anniversaries weren’t supposed to start with fights; but yours did. You completely understood why, he wanted to spend the day together. It couldn’t happen; unfortunately the reason that Danny was able to spend all of today with you was also the reason that you were able to get away to execute on your plans, or rather, couldn’t stay with him. Danny had shut his restaurant – he could have taken the day off but no, he’d given everyone a break -  that was just the kind of man he was. You had other ideas. He didn’t like this; and whilst you didn’t really expect him to, you thought Danny might be a little more understanding than the argument you now found yourself in the middle of. “Baby, I’m sorry-!” “Are you kidding!? I’m taking the whole day off from work for this--! The restaurant is CLOSED for you!” for us you mean! But you held your tongue, Danny was hurt, but it really wasn’t your fault – as far as he knew! You tried your best, but placating him wasn’t working; “I know-! I know! And you’ve been excited all week but-” “Can’t you just tell them you can’t do it!” “Danny, if I could, then you know I would!” “This is fucking ridiculous! It’s a Saturday.” “At least it’s not travelling…!” That didn’t help things, and Danny scowled before dragging his cigarette packet off the kitchen table and slamming the balcony door closed behind him. What you had told him this morning was that work needed to pull you in on something. The truth? You were about to meet your parents, Nolan, Danny’s best friends (and coworkers!) Javi & Jason, and your best friends Amanda & Evie down at Viva Caputa and decorate for a ‘surprise’ anniversary party. Surprise only for Danny of course. But right now, you’d be lucky to get him out for it. You sighed gently and followed him outside; “Baby…” touching his shoulder delicately you rubbed soothing circles. When Danny didn’t turn to you, you pulled yourself into him. “Baby, I’m so sorry…” His breathing was deep and Danny took at least three drags of his cigarette before he spoke. “I know. I just can’t believe this is happening today.” “Danny, please look at me?” He turned, and gathered you in his arms, brushing your hair back from your face. He was trying his best not to look super pissed, but you supposed he wasn’t really angry with you. “I’m sorry, baby girl, it’s just… It’s not what I wanted.” “Me either, you know that. God, Danny, I wanna be here with you so bad…” You leant up, brushing your lips to his. He chuckled, deepening your kiss, tasting like smoke. “What if you skipped out?” You raised an eyebrow, hoping that he was joking with you. Danny’s smiled faded, “Right. Okay.” You held him closer running a hand through his tangle of curls, “Just stay here, relax, okay? God knows you deserve it. I’ll pick you up later and we’ll go out for dinner.” “At this place you won’t tell me about.” “Why ruin a good surprise?” You realised the double meaning of your sentence and grinned, “I promise it’ll be worth the wait.” He took a double meaning of his own from that; “OH, I’m assured it will be!” You kissed him once more, “I’ll be back soon, I promise.” “Yeah, yeah! Go on! Leave me!” He might have put on a pout, but you were almost positive that he’d be sulking all day. As you waved goodbye part of you wanted to race back to Danny and tell him everything. You couldn’t. For this to work you couldn’t.   *** You’d hidden your dress of choice and a bunch of decorations in the car, and as you pulled into the parking lot everyone was already waiting for you. “Happy Anniversary!” “Oh no!!” You held your hands up, kissing Nolan gently on the cheek as he came over to help you remove the boxes, “Not when my man isn’t here, and NOT when he’s already pissed at me!” “For what!?” Javi raised an eyebrow “Well I’m at work, as far as he knows.” “That’s typically Danny.” Jason scoffed, “He’ll be fully in love by tonight!” “If he’s not, this Anniversary is gonna turn into a funeral-!” “Yours?” You narrowed your eyes at Jason and had half a mind to slap him, considering his amused little smile, instead just shoving a box into his arms; “No. YOURS!” *** Despite Danny not being here, you made sure to keep messaging him every spare moment you had. Danny wasn’t a texter, but keeping him up to date with what you were up to was important. You called him during your lunchbreak only, he seemed pretty fine – and didn’t complain once, which you thought was good of him. But Danny certainly wasn’t in high spirits; hopefully you could change all that quickly. It was a lot of fun, helping everyone else put up decorations. As you did so they all kept shouting random questions at you about your relationship, wanting you to tell stories and talk to your favourite memories. To which they all added running commentaries or their own anecdotes – either on things Danny had said about you when you weren’t around, or, if they’d been a part of any of the situations, their own personal take on it. Towards the end of your decorating Amanda paused and turned back to you, it dawned on her – much as it had your own mind – what exactly this was for, and yet your participation in it. “Wait, shouldn’t we have been doing this for you!?” You shrugged “No. I mean you could have! But, the amount of stupid surprise parties that Danny has thrown me in here?” You pointed around the room, “That all of you were all in on, I 100% need to throw him one this time! Even if it is for our anniversary…” Then you smiled, “Which uhm, reminds me, I guess I best be saying thank you!!”

On the other side of Miami, Danny Rayburn was growing more and more anxious. It was getting later; about the time you should really be getting home, or at least picking him up. Yet he’d heard nothing, not a text or a call. Danny was ready: nice shirt, smart pants, he even had a jacket. He wasn’t exactly sure where you were taking him, but he could guess that you’d like to sweep him across town and into a 5-star restaurant with views of the Pacific. Danny would roll his eyes and say you were paying too much, and you would smile and say he was worth every cent; and he wouldn’t be ungrateful, Danny would surely enjoy every second of your company. Even more so now he’d been bereft of you all day. Now he was pacing, and sure that you wouldn’t make it - at the rate things were going you definitely wouldn’t be on time! – he’d already had a few cigarettes to attempt to calm himself in vain, Danny didn’t dare have another. Alternating between staring at the door and the phone; which one would alert him first? Turned out it was his phone and as he scrambled to pick it up, Danny was disheartened to find it wasn’t even you on the other end of the line, but his head waiter, Javi: “Danny you need to get down to the restaurant there’s a problem.” If it didn’t sound so urgent Danny would have left a longer pause; what else could possibly go wrong today? He didn’t dare ask that question out loud. “You’re fucking with me right!? I’m waiting to go to my anniversary dinner, everything’s already ruined because my girl got dragged off to work. Now there’s something wrong at my restaurant!?” “Danny we need you!! We NEED you!” Javi did his best to sound panicked, “But she… she’s gotta be on her way back by now… I can’t just drive down to ya!” “Y/N left you for the day man, that’s on her! Just get down here!” Javi shot you an apologetic look but you waved him off. All he had to do was get your partner to his destination, it didn’t matter how. Heck, for leaving Danny all day you probably did deserve some slander. Hopefully it’d all be worth the pain. “Okay. Okay. Just, hold on!”  Danny cut the line, sighing, well this was just GREAT. He scribbled a little note to you, hardly believing that after you left him this morning he was now going to have to apologise for this. In the state he was in though, Danny never stopped to ask the question; If everyone was off for the evening, what was Javi doing at the restaurant in the first place? *** Danny couldn’t pull into his parking space fast enough, Javi’s car was the only other one here (you’d all moved yours into a parking garage to keep from ruining the surprise until the last second.) and yet the restaurant didn’t seem occupied at all. “What the hell?” Danny muttered to himself. Locking his car, he sprinted to Viva Caputa’s front door, wrenching it open as soon as he could get the key in. Stepping inside he peered around in the pitch darkness, reaching for the nearest light switch; “Javi, I swear to GOD-” Danny didn’t get a chance to flip them, as the lights were thrown up from the other end of the room. All your collective friends and your family standing there. “SURPRISE!!” Banners and balloons and streamers decorated nearly every surface, and the more culinary skilled of the little group had clearly been busy at home. He quickly noted signature dishes of both your mother’s and Jason’s. Danny’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He just stood in stunned silence and shook his head, before his hands came up to his face and his eyes settled on you. No longer in the clothes you’d left in this morning, you’d changed into a gorgeous dress, standing in the centre of the restaurant with a glass of champagne in your hand; “Happy Anniversary Danny!” His hands came away from his mouth; “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’D PUT ME THROUGH A DAY OF HELL FOR THIS!!” Yet as he laughed and everyone joined in, Danny stepped quickly forwards, throwing his arms around you and pulling you into a tight embrace “THANK YOU!!!” “About time I threw you a surprise party, huh?” “Oh, baby girl…” He placed his forehead to yours, “You didn’t have to!” before kissing you to a room full of cheers. *** Nolan got the music going, a playlist you’d helped him put together, and the party started getting into full flow. Although Danny and yourself were the centre of attention, it was nice to lean back against him as he sat on a bar stool - arm around your waist and drink in his hand - and observe all your friends chatting amongst themselves and having a good time. “Sorry this isn’t the anniversary you expected.” He rubbed his hand over your hip and chuckled; “You don’t need to be sorry, I like this. Right here with the people most important to us...” Danny looked up to you with a smile; “As for this morning, you CAN take me to a 5-star restaurant to make up for it.” You shook your head at his cheekiness, but knew he probably deserved it, as you bent to kiss his forehead, “Okay, baby, it’s a deal!”

With the music up it was no surprise that eventually Danny took your hand and suggested you make your way to the middle of the cleared space. “If you’re gonna stand there in a good dress, and you and Nolan built a playlist, it’d be a shame to waste it!” You couldn’t help but laugh as he pulled you out; “Just be careful, this isn’t a dancefloor in the middle of Little Havana.” “Oh, I think I’ll save that for back home.” You raised your eyebrows, with a small smirk at his suggestion; “That better be a promise, Danny Rayburn.” “Oh, you bet!”

You weren’t sure if shuffle wasn’t working, or the fact that Nolan was smirking and standing relatively close to the music player with Beth, Evie and Amanda had something to do with your realisation that it was slow song after slow song. Probably was your best guess – your friends would certainly love the opportunity to control the playlist. It didn’t matter to either of you; Danny held you strong, one hand in yours and one supporting your waist - everything about it respectful, perhaps even delicate. Danny cared about you more than anything and you knew that; his body close and tight, back sloping to fold into yours; head resting against your own as he spun you slowly around the floor. Every so often you’d catch his smirk as the lights glittered on your ‘D’ pendant - and that look on his face persisted as he continued to hold you. Sometimes you really did love that Danny made it so obvious, and you pushed up against him a little harder just to let him know you knew exactly what he was thinking about. As you did you Danny gave you a little look; ‘I’m trying to be proper here!’ And you laughed, ‘Yeah right!’

 Eventually others joined you, your parents, Jason and his wife, and you and Danny even persuaded Javi to stop making eyes at her from across the room, and go drag Amanda onto the dancefloor. When everyone’s eyes weren’t solely on the two of you, you were able to relax a bit; and his hands fell a little lower on your waist as you looped your arms around his neck. You still gave him your best ‘careful’ warning look, yet Danny’s little cheeky smile let you know that he’d heed your words, but only for a time. If he thought that he was going to get away with it, Danny was absolutely gonna get a little inappropriate tonight. It was your anniversary after all!

 You were in your own little world, that much was for sure. People were aware of what this meant, and let you have these quiet, private moments together - when all that mattered was each other. Danny grazed his lips to your forehead, and cheek before he chuckled: “You know maybe we aught to stop celebrating every special occasion here.” “You’re the one who doesn’t like taking big days off!” You were specifically referring to Valentine’s Day, but Danny’s look was sharp and you laughed, embarrassed. “Today is hardly the day to complain at me for that. Thank you for the surprise, all the same.” “You’re welcome, you deserve it... Happy Anniversary Danny!” He accepted your kiss with a sweet smile; “Happy Anniversary, baby girl...” You looked around at all your friends but none of them were paying attention, all in worlds of their own too; “Maybe we should make this tradition?” “Oh yeah, gone are the days of good meals out, it’s all about hanging at Viva Caputa!” Although his voice was purely sarcastic, Danny couldn’t help that little smile he flashed “Something like that...” You smiled back, kissing him gently again. Then Danny laughed; “I have to say though, considering your antics you’re lucky we got an anniversary at all-!” “Oh what, c’mon! Danny!” “You just wait until we get home, you’re in BIG trouble.” You weren’t sure you trusted the suggestive look on his face, and you tipped you head curiously. Danny however was under no illusions that you weren’t hopeful; “Good trouble?” “VERY good trouble.”

Danny pulled you into his body, and you locked your arms around his neck as he kissed you. That wasn’t a sweet ‘Happy Anniversary’ kiss, and his hands ran way lower than the respectful line of your waist as he kept you as near to him as possible. That only made you smirk into the kiss as he grazed his tongue over your bottom lip. The dancing had paused; and no wonder. You allowed him what he wanted, Danny hummed in approval as sweet and short became fiery, hungry and passionate. You were in half a mind to ask him to abruptly cut your own party and take you back home right now.

You wouldn’t; because this was just Danny’s way of teasing you. Merely a taste of what was in store when you closed your apartment door to the world tonight and the lights were off.

Very good trouble was damn right. And you couldn’t wait.

---

Thank you for reading *possibly* the most self indulgent thing I’ve ever written 😅

[mierinette]

day 15 - mythical creatures

how i miss yesterday, and how i’d let it fade away.

tumblr month: @auyeahaugust

links: ao3 | ff.net

THE Agreste Mansion could have been beautiful, if not for the overgrown greenery and rusted fence that decorate the estate's exterior.

It looks like the textbook definition of what a haunted house is.

Marinette should be scared.

Instead, she takes out her cellphone, turns it on, faces the camera, and...

Goes live.

"Hey everyone, Marinette here!" She starts, waving almost awkwardly at the camera. (Thousands of viewers come storming into the live in seconds.) "So… welcome to the Ladybug— crap, I mean, the Ladyblog!"

Noticing that the camera is angled a little too low, she shifts to show herself better.

(Wow, she really is bad at this.)

"As you all know, or maybe you don't, haha… I'm heading the vlog for today!" She tries to smile, but it's clearly panicked. "Alya couldn't come back with me to Paris, unfortunately, and you all really wanted to see us cover the Agreste story so…," she moves along with the camera, trying to show off her surroundings.

(Nobody watching has the heart to tell her they can't see anything because her head's covering half the screen.)

"I'll be heading this adventure myself!" Marinette scratches her head awkwardly, and almost drops her phone as she hears a sudden crack! behind her. "Ohmygod what was that—"

She immediately turns the camera, only to notice a black cat pass behind her.

Its vivid green eyes almost make her shudder.

"Black cat," Marinette mutters to herself. "Sure, like I didn't know this was a terrible idea already.

She remembers a little too late that she's still online.

"I mean! This is going to be fun! Let's do this!"

The chatbox is filled with messages, but they all really say the same thing:

This is going to be a trainwreck.

But I am going to enjoy absolutely every minute of it.

(She pointedly ignores these messages and goes forward.)

Marinette walks towards the estate, using a key to unlock the rusted gate to the Agreste residence.

"If you're all wondering how I got entry to this place," she starts. "One of our subscribers actually helped us out," she turns towards the camera and smiles. "So Chloé Bourgeois, thanks a lot!"

(Yeah, thanks for giving her no choice but to go through with this video.)

"If it weren't for you, this video wouldn't be possible at all."

The gate opens with a resounding creaaaaak and Marinette has to force the unbothered smile on her face.

"Alright, let's go in."

.

.

.

[ INSTAGRAM STORY: maribug ]

"Hi guys! In case you don't know the story of the Agrestes, please swipe up with an article Alya wrote on the story below. As usual, be warned for creepy content!"

The Mysterious Disappearances of the Agreste Family

Almost five years ago, the Agrestes were the so-called 'it family' of Paris, France. Their family consisted of top fashion designer Gabriel, his beautiful wife, Emilie, and their only son, Adrien— a teenage model for his father's brand early on. In the public's eyes, this was a picture-perfect family.

However, this was soon revealed to be a ruse.

In 20XX, Emilie Agreste suddenly passed away. The family refused to comment and held a private funeral. A few weeks later, residents were surprised to find large fences erected around the residence, gating outsiders from entering the home. Father and son withdrew from contact with the outside world, aside from secretary Nathalie Sanceour and Adrien Agreste's unnamed personal bodyguard, nicknamed 'The Gorilla'.

Any media or news shared about the family were quickly taken down. For a long time, any and all information about the death of Emilie Agreste was removed— presumably by the husband himself.

News on the Agrestes stayed quiet for a year, until Adrien was spotted attending a local high school.

This was only for a day. After finding out about Adrien's attempted "escape", he was quickly returned to the premises and brought home.

The school refused to comment when we asked for an interview.

Due to limited information, little is known about what happened next.

The most accepted story, however, is that after Adrien was returned home, the Agrestes completely dropped off the radar. Even Gabriel Agreste was completely unreachable to his company.

Both Nathalie Sancoeur and 'The Gorilla' we're suddenly fired and removed from the premises without warning.

After a year of silence from the family, Sancoeur was finally given a warrant to enter the Agreste Mansion with the police force.

The mansion was empty. In fact, it seemed that nobody had occupied the space in months. A written report states that a cup of coffee Sancoeur remembers making from Mr. Agreste, on the day of her sudden termination, remained to be on his desk.

No sign of forced entry or violence was taken note of. They had just… disappeared.

A nationwide search was held to find the father-son duo, but to no avail. They were not found alive nor dead. The police soon branded this a cold case and filed it away.

Sancoeur was given control over the Agreste brand. 'The Gorilla' was also rehired to be her assistant.

Both declined to comment and continue to avoid topics talking about the Agreste family.

The mansion has been left untouched since then.

Until now.

(Please follow TheLadyblog on Instagram, tomorrow by 8PM vlogger Marinette Dupain-Cheng will visit the abandoned residence!)

.

.

The house is huge.

Marinette enters into a large foyer, run-down from years of neglect and disrepair. The pristine white of the walls have faded into a dull gray, complemented with spiderwebs in almost every corner. She holds her flashlight almost like a weapon.

Then, she switches to the front camera and shows the audience her surroundings.

"As you can see, the house seems untouched from when its previous owners lived here," Marinette begins, holding back the need to shudder. "Chloé messaged me that she ensured nobody else lived or even came in its vicinity," she explains, her tone turning more empathetic. "Apparently she and Adrien used to be friends, and she's still hoping that he'll come back to claim the house someday."

(Personally, Marinette doesn't think that he will— doesn't think he can, really— but decides to keep that little fact to herself.)

She turns the camera back to her.

"So anyway, I was given a floor plan to the building," she continues, raising up a piece of paper and showing it to her viewers. "Since the mansion is huge, and I can't possibly visit all the rooms tonight, tell me where you want to go!"

The comments flood in, and the answer is unanimous:

The previous room of Adrien Agreste.

.

.

Marinette opens the door carefully.

The door squeaking isn't that loud, but it echoes throughout the corridor and makes things so much creepier than they have to be.

She bites her lip, and enters the room— which takes up almost the entire second floor story.

Arcade stations, computers, games, books, and CDs fill up the entire floor. A television screen almost three times bigger than she is lays upon the wall. A basketball half-court decorates one side of the room. There are more doors which likely lead to other things to see, but she decides to check that later on.

"Okay, I don't think I'll do this room justice with a phone camera and a flashlight for lighting, but this is amazing," Marinette raves. "I feel like this is a teenage boy's dream room. Honestly, it's my dream room." She laughs to herself lightly, turning the front camera on. "Though I'd maybe change out the basketball court for my personal sewing space."

(Marinette briefly wonders why anyone would want to leave such a place, but dismisses the thought almost immediately; realizing that none of it could be enjoyed at all if she were alone.)

In fact, standing in the middle of it at that moment made her feel much lonelier than she was previously.

Except, she's not alone.

But Marinette's too busy looking around to notice the increasingly panicked messages of her viewers:

do yall

u all see that right…..

ohmygod is-

IS THAT REAL WTH

MARINETTE OMG

PLEASE TURN AROUND

RUN? DONT LOOK BACK?

PROTECT OUR SWEET SUMMER CHILD

I CANNOT WATCH ANOTHER LIVE WHERE SOMEONE GETS MURDERED PLS

CHECK UR MESSAGES GIRL !

Noticing her phone buzz with messages, she clicks on the tab that opens them.

Marinette's eyebrows wrinkle together.

"What are you guys talking abou—"

A scream, the sound of her phone cracking, and the live video suddenly being turned off.

well, there goes ½ of the ladyblog…

.

.

Alya wakes up to her phone overflowing with messages.

The first one she reads is extremely straightforward:

HELP I THINK MARINETTE'S DEAD

So understandably, she does what any good friend would do.

Think it's a prank set up by Marinette (for making her hold the live without her), get irritated, send her a 'haha nice try mari but dead is a stretch' message, then immediately go back to sleep.

Marinette, however, never gets the message.

.

.

It's easy to panic when death's staring you right in the face.

So she does, because death is quite literally staring right at her.

In the form of a sixteen-year-old boy whose face she knew all too well from all the hidden fashion magazines her teenage self hid under her bed.

Adrien Agreste.

(Well, at least now the question of did-he-live was answered. A stone-cold, dead, nope!)

And also, ghosts really do exist— who knew?

(The so-called paranormal expert didn't, apparently.)

The ghost moves toward her, as she scrambles away, her back suddenly hitting the wall.

"Please, if you're gonna kill me, do it quick," Marinette replies, rushing through the words. "I don't know how angry you ghosts are, but I swear violence isn't the answer. It'll solve nothing and make me dead so let's maybe move away from that—"

Adrien tilts his head, and it almost looks human. (Maybe if his head hadn't done a complete three-sixty at that exact moment, she would've calmed down. Instead, and understandably, she panics more.)

"Hey, hey! Don't worry, I'm not going to kill you."

"You aren't?" She asks, then suddenly horrified (and almost embarrassed), covers her body with her hands. "Don't possess me! Look, I'm a klutz and have literally no coordination. You don't want me! Actually, I can get you better bodies! I have this friend named Alya…"

(Marinette isn't sure why, but she feels extremely irritated with her best friend for some reason.)

The ghost laughs.

And it doesn't echo ohmygod he really is dead and she really is going to die and all this drama for a bunch of views what has she become—

He floats closer to her, and smiles. "I won't possess you either," he replies. "You can keep your body."

"... then, what do you want?"

"Well, I don't really want anything."

"Really?"

He looks almost amused. "I mean, you were the one who broke into my house. I guess I'd like to know why."

Okay, fair.

Marinette looks almost sheepish when she responds, realizing how dumb her reasoning actually is:

"Well, I'm a paranormal vlogger…"

.

.

Marinette has done a lot of strange things in her life.

But this— talking to a ghost about YouTube of all things, is probably the weirdest of all.

(The really terrifying thing about it was how comfortable she actually felt about it.

Talking to Adrien was terribly easy that you couldn't help but let your guard down.)

He looks at her with wide-eyed awe. "That's amazing! And I can't believe I get to be included in your video!"

She smiles lightly. "Well, you are kind of a big deal…"

"I never knew fashion meant that much to so many people!"

(The truth was that they knew Adrien because of his disappearance and the conspiracy around his family, but she decides against mentioning it. Though, it's quite strange to be so cautious of hurting a ghost, of all things.)

"Yeah," Marinette replies instead. "I used to collect your magazines, you know?"

Adrien brightens up. "Dang, you're a fan of me?" He bows down, and his head almost falls over. (She finds herself laughing.) "I'm honored, milady."

"Milady?" She asks teasingly. "What era are you from?"

"Hey—! Technically, we're the same age." He protests, before suddenly quieting down. "I guess I'd be twenty now, huh?"

The mood shifts, and Marinette can't do anything about it.

"... I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he only says. "I guess I'm just a little sad that I never really got to experience being a teenager. Y'know, being normal." He laughs to himself. "And even after death, I'm still not. Being stuck here and all."

Quiet.

"Do you mind if I ask what happened…?" Marinette begins, her voice soft. "Not that you have to answer but… it was so sudden when everyone got the news you were gone."

Adrien sighs. "I'm not sure myself," he explains. "My dad… he thought there was some way to bring her back. Bring my mom back to life. And he did things, some dark things, but they didn't work… and before I knew it, he was gone, and I was stuck like this."

He gestures down at himself. "I can't even leave the house, can you believe it? I've just been here and alone for years…" Then, a smile. "Until you came along."

"I'm glad I can be of some company," Marinette replies, smiling back.

(It's strange— so strange, but she feels connected to him in ways she's never felt connected to anyone.)

"I'm glad that the company who showed up was you."

At that, Marinette decides on an idea.

She stands, and gestures for him to follow.

"You're a ghost, so you can't touch things, right?"

"Yeah… but I can move them. I learned a lot of ghost skills while I was stuck here."

She smiles. "Great."

"What do you mean?"

Marinette walks over to the foosball table, groaning from years of neglect, and places her hands on it. "I may not be able to bring you back, but I can let you experience what it feels like to be a teenager." She tilts her head, pointing towards the game.

"Let's play?"

.

.

They play games late at night and into the early hours of the morning.

Marinette has never seen someone enjoy her company that much— like she had given him the whole world, and everything he'd ever wanted.

It makes her heart soar, to see him so happy.

They take a break as the clock tells them it's almost three in the morning.

Marinette settles into the couch, with Adrien lying down as he floats over her.

"I'm sorry you had to play with me," she starts. "Not really great at sports. And I can get pretty intense when it comes to online games."

Adrien only smiles at her, without a hint of irritation or regret. "No, this was perfect. It's the most fun I've had in a long time." He laughs. "Maybe ever. And I'll never forget this, no matter how long I stay like this."

She frowns as the words leave his mouth.

(Wasn't the thing tying him to the real world his failure to experience his life as a teenager?)

Marinette says it aloud.

"If only it were that simple," he responds, almost sad. "But I don't think that was ever the reason."

"Then what is it?"

"..."

"Adrien?"

"..."

"I won't judge it or anything. Please, I want to help."

Adrien sighs, then looms over her, the expression on his face almost breaking her heart. "It's corny, but… I wanted to experience love." He finally says. "After my mom died, I was locked away. I never felt my dad's love, and Nathalie cared for me, but that was it. My mom was the last person who ever loved me. I just wish I could've experienced that feeling one more time."

"...

I loved you."

"What?"

Marinette looks up at him, vulnerable. Her hands curl up into balls as they grab at the couch.

"I don't know if you remember me," she begins shakily. "But I was there that day you went to the high school."

"..."

"It was raining. And it was only for a moment, but you lent me your umbrella because I forgot mine," she laughs to herself. "I'm sure you don't remember me but…"

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"... how did you know that?"

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," he repeats. "I remember that name. I talked to Miss Bustier over the phone then, and she told me you were the first person I should find when I came to class. She told me you'd make me feel right at home. Adrien looks up at her, and smiles. "I guess she was right."

At that, Marinette feels her mouth tilt upward. "Took you a long time to find me, huh?"

"Better late than never, though?"

They share a laugh, before Adrien continues. "I was really looking forward to meeting you," he says. "And somehow, I knew it was you when I gave that umbrella. You just gave that feeling of home Miss Bustier was talking about… and I was so desperate to have you know me that the umbrella was my way of doing so. Even if I never gave my name, I hoped that somehow, in some way, you'd remember me." He smiles. "And you did."

"... I don't know what to say."

"I think I loved you then," Adrien says, almost to himself. "I just didn't know it yet."

They stare at each other for a moment, and Marinette feels her heart break and be whole at the same time.

The sun starts to show itself, peeking through the clouds.

"... I won't see you again anymore, will I?"

Adrien doesn't even have to nod for her to know his answer.

"Maybe I'll take back my, 'I love you', then."

He laughs.

"I don't like having to lose you all over again."

He makes his way to her, then presses a kiss to her forehead.

(She knows that ghosts can't touch her, but the warmth that spreads from his touch isn't anything short of real.)

"Good luck with your YouTube channel."

It's Marinette's turn to laugh.

"Are you sure those are what you want your last words to be?"

Adrien hums.

"I guess you're right," he replies softly. "I'll go with this then:

I love you, Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

And as the sun rises, she suddenly finds herself alone.

.

.

Marinette rushes home to use her laptop.

She scrolls through the messages— all assuming she's died, and dials a number she knows by heart.

"Oh thank God you're alive, I was so worried about you!"

"I saw your message, Alya."

"Oh. Haha, well! How was I supposed to believe that an actual ghost showed up on your live?"

"I guess you're right."

"... so, is it true? Was the ghost real? Is the Agreste mansion haunted?"

Marinette pauses.

Then, almost too softly for her to hear, she says it:

"Not anymore."

[acrosstheskyandstars]

Book Review: Eleanor Oliphant is Completely Fine by Gail Honeyman

Where to start with this book. I was definitely not a fan. This book was recommended to me by my best friend and my favorite Youtuber. I was convinced that I, too, would love this book. Unfortunately, this book did not live up to my expectations.

The premise of this book is that Eleanor is a 30 year old administrative assistant who lives the most basic boring life in existence. She eats the same thing for dinner every day (cold pasta with pesto), has the same weekly commute (stopping by Tesco every Friday to buy vodka), and doesn’t understand any attempt at non-literal speech. You may, at this point, be wondering if Eleanor was written to be some sort of neuroatypical representation. I certainly was. I paused reading to google it, only to find out that the author did not intend Eleanor to be neuroatypical at all. She has explicitly rejected the idea that Eleanor was written to be autistic. So now we’re left with a main character who is confusing and we have no reason for it. Yes, Eleanor has experienced childhood trauma (SPOILER: her mother set fire to the house killing herself and Eleanor’s sister when Eleanor was only 10), however her behavior seems unexplained by that. I can excuse the trauma blocking of her sister and the fact that she doesn’t remember that her mother is dead. Her depressive episode and suicidal ideation certainly make sense with a traumatic childhood. Trauma can do some very odd things to the brain. However, trauma does not make a previously neurotypical person behave as though they are autistic (the condition that is most speculated about in relation to Eleanor). If the author intended Eleanor to have some sort of mental health condition, like PTSD, she did not convey this through her writing. In fact, Eleanor seems to become pretty “normal” by the end of the book. Suddenly her coworkers care about her, she has friends, and she is mentally healthy. While these are all good things, the process of how one begins to unpack and process their trauma isn’t shown in very much detail. This leaves the reader with the impression that Eleanor was able to work through her issues on her own the whole time. She quits drinking after roughly one therapy session. The woman was binging 2 bottles of vodka by herself every weekend and admits that she was not sober at all from Friday evening to Monday morning for the past decade.

The thing that irritated me the most about this book was that every interaction Eleanor has with another character comes off as very stilted and painful. At no point do these interactions become charming, though she does become more tolerable after her mental breakdown. The breakdown in question is of course caused by the fact that she has convinced herself she is in love with a local pub musician that she saw precisely one time. Please note: she has never interacted with this man and he does not know who she is. She decides to get a bikini wax to impress this man that she has never met. Please tell me any other instance of a person doing this. Which brings me to the most painful interaction I’ve witnessed. Apparently some readers find this funny or charming. I found it painful because of how socially unaware she is. The idea that some may find her cluelessness funny is odd to me, particularly if they are reading her character as autistic. I’ll transcribe it here so that you can all feel the pain with me:

“‘Now then,’ she said, ‘what are we doing today?’ ‘As I said, a bikini wax, please.’ She laughed. ‘Yes, sorry, I meant what kind of wax would you like?’I thought about this. ‘Just the usual kind . . . the candle kind?’ I said.‘What shape?’ she said tersely, then noticed my expression. ‘So,’ she said patiently, counting them off on her fingers, ‘you’ve got your French, your Brazilian or your Hollywood.’I pondered. I ran the words through my mind again, over and over, the same technique I used for solving crossword anagrams, waiting for the letters to settle into a pattern. French, Brazilian, Hollywood . . . French, Brazilian, Hollywood . . . ‘Hollywood,’ I said, finally. ‘Holly would, and so would Eleanor,’…‘There,’ she said, removing the gloves and wiping her brow with the back of her hand, ‘now doesn’t that look so much better!’ She passed me a hand mirror so I could look at myself. ‘But I’m completely bare!’ I said, horrified.‘That’s right, a Hollywood,’ she said. ‘That’s what you asked for.’I felt my fists clench tight, and shook my head in disbelief. I had come here to start to become a normal woman, and instead she’d made me look like a child.‘Kayla,’ I said, unable to believe the situation I now found myself in, ‘the man in whom I am interested is a normal adult man. He will enjoy sexual relations with a normal adult woman. Are you trying to imply that he’s some sort of paedophile? How dare you!’She stared at me, horrified. I had had enough of this.‘Please, leave me to get dressed now,’ I said, turning my face to the wall.She left and I climbed down from the couch. I pulled my trousers on, consoled by the thought that the hair would surely grow back before our first intimate encounter. I didn’t tip Kayla on the way out.”

Every time Eleanor interacted with another person, it was this painful. Perhaps the height of her outlandishly bad social awareness was the scene where an old man collapses on the street and her coworker rushes to help. She is taken aback that her coworker wanted to help the elderly man who was unconscious on the sidewalk, and then also is frustrated that calling an ambulance throws off her evening plans (going to Tesco to buy two bottles of vodka to drink herself silly through the weekend).

Eleanor definitely needed help, and I’m glad she got it. Post-breakdown Eleanor was the best she got in the book. My main problem with the book is squarely placed on the character of Eleanor. She is unlikable, unrelatable, and frankly unrealistic. I think the moral of this story is that everyone can have different tastes, given how many people liked this book.

I’d also like to link to a post that goes into a more in-depth discussion of Eleanor’s possible autism and possible mental illnesses: https://penchant.blog/2019/08/19/eleanor-oliphants-story-and-why-it-doesnt-belong-to-the-author-who-wrote-it/

Check out my blog: https://acrosstheskyinstars818513457.wordpress.com

[rose-of-pollux]

Yet another MFU blurb

Written for today’s short affair prompt at Section VII

Summary: In which failing to convict a war criminal causes Napoleon to question why he had to be the only witness that night in Korea.

Featuring a guest appearance from Fr Mulcahy because he just fit right in.

Continuation of this piece and this piece.

Eventually will be crossposted to AO3.

       Well I remember, I remember, don't worry, how could I ever forget,                          It's the first time, the last time we ever met.                                  — Phil Collins, “In the Air Tonight”

In spite of the best efforts from Napoleon and the rest of the prosecution to try to convict Smith for the murder of an unarmed Korean civilian, the lack of evidence, unfortunately, made the case fall apart.  In spite of Napoleon’s reputation, the passage of time since the incident caused the jury to question what he had seen, and they went with Smith’s version of the story—that he found the necklace after stumbling upon a body in the storm.

Napoleon was furious—and even moreso when Smith had the gall to turn up at U.N.C.L.E. a few days later. Illya had steadfastly refused to leave, even after Smith had stated that his business was with Napoleon, and Napoleon alone.  Illya stayed, as did their office cat, Baba Yaga, who immediately arched her back at Smith, hissing angrily at the sight of him.

“What do you want?” Napoleon asked, his voice tinged with ice.

“Well, Solo, first of all, before you got sidetracked with trying to drag my name through the mud, I had wanted to hire U.N.C.L.E. as bodyguards for one of my fancy gatherings,” the man said, smirking, as he reached for an orange from the fruit basket on the desk.

“U.N.C.L.E. doesn’t protect war criminals,” Napoleon shot back, quickly yanking back the purloined piece of fruit.  “We don’t provide them with any comforts, either.”

“But I’ve been acquitted!” Smith grinned.  “Your memory just didn’t serve you well then—I just picked the medallion up off of the ground.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” Napoleon countered.

“But the jury doesn’t—and that’s all that matters,” Smith smirked.  “So, how about it—the protection?”

“We have the right to refuse our services to others when we find it prudent,” Illya said.

“And I don’t really care,” Smith said.  “Fine; I can hire plenty of other people to protect me at my party.”

“Then go do it—the less I have to see of you, the better,” Napoleon said.

“Well, there’s one other thing I want from you,” Smith said.  “My medallion—the one I found in Korea.  It’s mine.  I want it back.”

“It isn’t yours,” Napoleon snapped, his anger visibly increasing.  “You admitted on the stand that you found it—therefore, it was never yours!”

“Nevertheless, I’m sure I can find some loophole to make sure you return it to me,” Smith said. “See, I want that back—a souvenir of war, and now, it’s my trophy of how I defeated the great Napoleon Solo.”

“Get out of this office and this building, or I will have you removed from the premises,” Napoleon insisted.

“Touchy, aren’t you? Fine, I’ll leave for now,” Smith conceded.  “But you haven’t seen the last of me.”

He turned and left with the cat hissing at his retreating back, and Illya closed the door to their office before turning to his partner.

“Napoleon?”

“What was the point!?” Napoleon suddenly fumed.  “What was the point of having me be there, at that time and place, to witness this, if it did absolutely nothing!?”

“…You are asking that question to someone who cannot even begin to find an answer,” Illya said, with genuine sympathy in his voice.

Napoleon’s expression softened.

“Illya—”

“You needn’t apologize to me—or anyone,” Illya reminded him.  “He was playing on your emotions the entire time he was here—I, for one, am pleased that you held it together in front of him.  He didn’t need the satisfaction of seeing your anger unleashed…”

He trailed off as the intercom buzzed.

“Mr. Solo?” Waverly’s voice crackled over the radio.  “Can you report to my office, please?  Feel free to bring Mr. Kuryakin with you, if you so desire.”

“Right away, Sir,” Napoleon said, and he shut off the intercom with a sigh.  “Well, he’s got his ear to the ground.”

“He cannot possibly find fault in anything you have done,” Illya assured.  “That’s what I was most insistent about, and you have stuck to that, much to my relief.”

“Mmh,” Napoleon sighed, as they made their way to Waverly’s office.

They were surprised to see Waverly in conversation with another man, a bit younger than him—the man had light blond hair, a hearing aid in each ear, and a collar that quickly identified him as a man of the cloth.

“Ah, Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin,” Waverly said.  “I want you to meet Father Francis Mulcahy.  …Well, as I understand it, you, Mr. Solo, have already met him.”

Napoleon blinked, trying to place the man for a moment before his eyes suddenly widened in recognition.

“…You were the chaplain in the medical unit in Korea where I had my appendix taken out,” Napoleon realized.

“That is correct,” Mulcahy said, with a warm smile.  “And I am very pleased to see that you were able to end up exactly where you wanted to be—where you can do the most good.”

“…Not enough good, I’m afraid,” Napoleon said, averting his gaze.  “You see, I just had a—”

“Yes, I know all about it,” Mulcahy sighed.  “You see, in addition to serving as the unit chaplain, I was also very involved in the care and well-being of the orphanage in Uijeongbu.  When your request for information on the records of… that night came in, they asked me to try to help them with the records, as well.  I was still searching when Mr. Kuryakin called to follow up and say that the trial had already begun.”

Napoleon looked to Illya in surprise, but then smiled fondly at his partner before turning back to Mulcahy in slight confusion.

“I appreciate your efforts, Father, but I’m not sure why you’re here now.”

“Because I did eventually find the information you were searching for!  The child’s father found her after the war—he’d checked the orphanage as a last-ditch attempt—”

Napoleon gave a wan smile.

“Again, Father, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your efforts, but we can’t bring Smith to trial a second time,” he said.  “I’m afraid it was all for nothing.”

“If you’ll permit me, Mr. Solo,” Mulcahy said, with a gentle smile.  “I have two people outside who certainly don’t see it that way.”

Napoleon blinked in surprise as Waverly instructed his secretary to show them in; he and Illya both turned to see a Korean man enter the office with a thirteen-year-old girl. The man looked overwhelmed, and the girl looked nervous.

“Mr. Solo,” Mulcahy said. “I want you to meet Mr. Ahn, and his daughter, Chun-hei.  Mr. Ahn, this is Mr. Solo—the man who saved your daughter’s life thirteen years ago.”

And even Illya couldn’t help but smile as Mr. Ahn gratefully shook Napoleon’s hand, and as Chun-hei shyly thanked him.

Perhaps, he conceded, as he watched his partner give the gold medallion to Chun-hei, Napoleon had just received the answer to his question after all.

[theparanormalperiodical]

11 Weird Events that Happened on Halloween

It’s that time of year again:

Your local Tesco’s has officially begun stocking christmas-related food items, cheap cat ears have completed their invasion of every female-directed fashion shop, and thanks to global warming the temperature has barely dropped since mid-summer.

That’s right - it’s nearly Halloween!

And we all know what Halloween means: striking moments of political change!

Oh, wait, is that one just me?

Yep, thanks to British politics, the most wonderful day of the year could potentially be tarnished by Brexit.

But it got me thinking: what other major events have happened on Halloween?

And has anything spook-tastic ever coincided with All Hallow’s Eve?

Clearly the 31st of October has an aura of frightful goings-on.

In basic terms, Halloween is believed to be the only day of the year when spirits can cross over from the afterlife and wander with the living once more.

So, could these events be a coincidence, or sparked by the spirits crossing back over into this world?

Today’s edition of the Paranormal Periodical is going to be all about every event - from the political to the paranormal - that has happened on the 31st October.

Let’s get spooky!

We start with the political side of things.

And let me tell you, there’s like, a lot of things.

So, no, Brexit will not stand alone as a political memory on the best day of the year.

In fact, it honestly seems like a large chunk of American history just decided to, like, happen, on this one day of the year.

But we start with something less spooky, more sad.

It’s the Wreck of the Monmouth.

Take yourself back to 1837. 

It’s - yes, you guessed it, you understand the basic premise of this post - Halloween night. It’s also the moment from which the forced deportation of Creek Native Americans from their homeland begins, shortly following a war in 1836. 

This deportation used a number of boats, including the one that titles this tale: The Monmouth.

The story goes that it crashed into another steamship, and that the sheer force of the collision sent it to the depths of the Mississippi river. 

It is estimated that 400 Native Americans drowned in this collision. It has even been regarded as the worst American Steamboat accident to date.

But there seems to be more discussion surrounding this tale than simply its occurrence on All Hallows’ Eve:

It ignited a wider discussion of the portrayal of Native Americans among the population and in the press. As it was in a remote area and ceased to include white people, it was simply ignored by the press.

As I said before, American politics does seem to dabble on doing things in late October, but it really specifies a niche for itself by having yet another disaster with a ship.

Only this was to have much more global consequences. 

The USS Reuben James - created to protect supply shipments during WW2 - was sunk during conflict on Halloween.

It lost two thirds of its crew, and even earnt the honour of being the first ship sunk during the conflict.

Indeed, this occurred only a month before Pearl Harbour, cementing itself as part of one of the most iconic moments in modern American history.

Happy Halloween?

But before we get tangled up in American history, how about we move to the next crazy event that coincided with the spookiest day of the year?

Well, I’m afraid that’s going to involve getting knotted up in another country’s political history to do so… 

It was 1922 when Mussolini - the first European dictator to start the mid-20th century political trend - marched on Rome. 

Having created a coalition government, he decided to consolidate his power by (you guessed it) this infamous march on Rome. 

Bolstered by a sea of Blackshirts, his fascist supporters, his control symbolically began.

Keep your horror films, and hold onto your ghost stories: this scares the living shit out of me.

Our final event takes us back only 4 years before this march, and back across the borders to American history.

However, this does shed a more positive light on the darker moments already detailed.

It was October 1918 when the affectionately named ‘Death Spike’ of the Spanish Influenza hit the USA.

And with a death toll topping 50 million around the globe, it certainly seems to stick to the darker themes so far discussed in this episode.

(Look, I’m sorry history happened, I can’t control fascists or stop people dying.)

In October, 200,000 Americans from the Influenza died. This accounted for nearly a third of the total death toll in America for the Influenza.

The positive side to this story? It was Halloween that actually ended this month.

Yep, Halloween ended the Death Spike.

Well, phew, that’s over.

Can we finally get onto some cool, spooky yet awesome stories now?

What about some stories with less death and hatred and pure evil?

Maybe a handful of quirky coincidences to liven up the depressing stories already listed?

Nope, the next ones are just as awful.

Now we turn to the spooky shit that coincided with Halloween.

We start with possibly the most ironic death… ever.

Harry Houdini is the most famous magician - okay, fine, you can keep Merlin, whatever - that’s ever existed.

Yet it’s not actually his life that features on this list - it’s his death.

It was October 1926 when Houdini gave a lecture to McGill University students about fraudulent spiritualism.

Hahaha well this is awkward hahaha.

Basically, he invited some students to his dressing room at one of the theatres in Montreal. For some reason, one of these students decided to score several hard blows at his stomach.

One abdominal infection later, and he was dead. 

And so the death train continues.

Our next stop is still as deathy, but a smidgen more spooky. And a splash more serial killer.

In 1981, a couple was murdered. 

They were beaten, shot, and the house was left ransacked. The police even claimed it had the looks of an execution.

Initially it was believed to be related to drugs, but the tone of the case quickly shifted when it was discovered the murder was predicted by an prisoner.

Serial killer David Berkowitz gave an eerily accurate description of the murders mere weeks before it occurred.

Clearly, this would make him a give-away suspect in this case, but as he was in prison during the murder, this removed him from the list.

We now turn to a similarly ghastly murder.

In 1977, a baby girl went missing. She was snatched from her own cradle.

And the first terrifying detail of this case starts with her abduction - which okay, fine, that definitely counts as creepy enough but somehow it gets worse: as the doors and windows were found to be locked, it is believed the abductor was hiding in the closet.

Oh, and it only gets worse and weirder - her body was found in a fridge.

I suppose you could assume that the murderer, I don't know, panicked and hid the body in a pretty ordinary un-suspicious object. 

But this is when things get interesting. Prior to this, two young girls were also abducted and lured into a fridge, confirming that a fridge is somehow a prominent prop for a serial killer who may still be lurking among us.

One of these girls died during the abduction, and it was the surviving child that claimed it was the babysitter who attempted to abduct them. 

The babysitter was found to be innocent, especially considering the surviving child was so young.

We now move from deaths to a disappearance:

Even now, no less than 18 years later, information regarding Hyon Jong Song is scarce.

Following a Halloween party in 2001, Song made it home at 4am, still decked out in a traditional Halloween bunny costume, after a lift from a friend.

The last evidence we have of her is her belongings which were dropped off in her house - she had even managed to remove her eyelashes!

But this was to be the final trace of this grad student.

Our penultimate tragedy takes us to Indiana, and brings us swinging into the sixties.

During the Indiana State Fair, an ice skating exhibition was on display for hundreds of visitors. 

But it was during the finale that disaster struck.

Unknown to the managers of the event, propane gas was leaking from a tank in a room nearby. You don’t need a chemistry degree to tell you this wouldn’t end well.

The fire utilised in the finale’s effects set it alight, causing an explosion that killed 74 and injured over 400. 

We now turn to an occurrence that seems uncomfortably common for Halloween.

I take that back - I suppose it suits the time of year well...

In fact, I’d like to call this section: 

when Halloween decorations were not Halloween decorations but were actually dead bodies. 

Brace positions, everyone. 

The most famous case only take us back 5 years.

In 2014, a man dragged a fake corpse out of his apartment on Halloween in front of a crowd of unsuspecting onlookers, and kicked the head across the street in a jest.

Only it wasn't a jest.

And it wasn't a fake corpse.

It was his decapitated mother. He had killed her shortly before this.

A similarly tragic event - which doesn’t sound dissimilar to any old urban legend is the death of William Anthony Odem.

The 15 year old was hoping to embellish the theme of his haunted house by staging a Gallows scene in the basement.

Unfortunately, he hung himself in the process.

In fact, hangings in particular - accidental, or not - often have ended up as decorations.

Suicide victims has often gone unnoticed during All Hallow’s Eve, disguised as the ghosts and ghoulish figures hanging on trees across streets and suburbs.

And so we arrive at our conclusion.

Depressed and scarred for life.

So much for a horror film binge and thought out costumes - these real events should scare you enough for Halloween! 

[takingcourage]

Bring to a Simmer

Pairing: Jaime x MC

Word Count: 2,200

Summary: Arden attempts to make the inaugural batch of ‘Dad and Arden’s Stroganoff,’ but with Jaime around, staying focused is more easily said than done. 

Note: This is just a silly little oneshot inspired by some optional dialogue from the “remembering mom” diamond scene in Chapter 13. I thought it could be a fun premise for a story, especially with a side of Jaime Lewis there to spice things up. Gosh, I’m going to miss this book. 

This also fulfills a request I received for kiss prompt #8 (the playful kiss on the tip of the nose). 

“I’ve got the onion sliced, pumpkin.”

Up to her elbows in flour, Arden looked over her shoulder toward to check her father’s progress at the breakfast table. “Great! I’ll bring the mushrooms over in just a minute.”

Turning her attention back to the recipe card in front of her, she mashed at the sticky dough again. It never looks this way on Bake Off, she considered, worrying her inner cheek against her teeth. But then again, they’re usually making pastry, not pasta. The thought made her feel slightly better, but she still had very little faith that the pasty substance before her was going to end up resembling anything close to her mother’s stroganoff noodles.

She pried one hand away from the clumpy mass, grimacing at the feeling of her very messy fingers sticking to the paper of the flour bag. How had her mom always managed to make cooking look so easy? Even a simple four-ingredient pasta dough was enough to tempt Arden toward a delivery service.

It’s not about the finished product, she reminded herself. This is about remembering mom and making new memories.

Picking at the excess lumps of dough from between her fingers, she wondered how she’d keep her father involved in the process once all of the ingredients had been chopped. His leg had been particularly bad today, which meant that he couldn’t spend much time on his feet without his trusty cane by his side. Unfortunately, canes and cooking didn’t mix particularly well.

“Can you see Jaime working out there?”

She smiled at his inquiry, lifting her eyes momentarily to catch a glimpse of the man at their fence line. “Yep, he’s hard at it. You’ll be really happy with how it looks, dad. I promise.”

“Your mother would have put me in the dog house if she’d seen how bad I let it get. I just…” His voice grew wistful as the sentence trailed, and Arden had to take a deep breath to steady herself.

“It just didn’t seem as important without her around. I think she’d forgive you.” 

The front yard had been a point of contention ever since her mother had fallen ill. Melinda Gale had always taken great pride in her plants, the perfect picket fence, her trailing ivy – all things that Harry only tended to on her behalf. In recent years, the yard had been gradually falling into a state of disrepair. 

Thank goodness for Jaime and his powers of persuasion. He’d been gently nudging for several months, and after coming home from the hospital, her father was finally ready to accept the offer. Arden was just glad that the matter had been resolved without too much nagging on her part.  

That’s not all I’m grateful for, she mused, sneaking another glance out the window. 

She’d known Jaime was attractive for years, but if possible, he’d grown even more gorgeous to her in the past week. Maybe it was because she’d been out of work and had had more time to appreciate him. Maybe it was because she’d seen every inch of him on the night after the gubernatorial debate and knew exactly what was hiding underneath those work clothes. Or maybe it was because she loved him. That word still made her pulse skip every time she thought it. 

Beyond being very nice to look at and prompting irregular heartbeats, he was also incredibly skilled at repairing fences. In a single afternoon, he’d managed to replace the missing and broken pickets, paint the entirety, and purchase new balusters for the front porch. His abilities seemed to go on without end. 

Arden’s own talents felt questionable at the moment, though her hands were becoming less laden with dough the more she rolled and patted the clump into submission. She gave it a final smack, drawing her hand away slowly to determine whether the consistency was ready for rolling.

Although she’d never assisted her mother in the process of making dough, she did have an idea, more or less, of what the final result should look like. The mass on the counter wasn’t an exact replica, but she didn’t think that her attempt was too far off.

At the table, her dad inhaled a sharp breath, but it was several long moments before his words came. “I’m glad you talked me into this, honey. I think your mom would probably get a kick out of watching our struggles in the kitchen.”

“So do I.” Smiling faintly at the thought, she sidestepped to the sink and began the chore of cleaning her hands.

“And she’d be even happier to see how well you and Jaime are getting along these days." 

Arden yanked the kitchen towel a little harder than intended, causing the cabinet door it hung from to squeal in protest. 

Her father clearly needed something else to keep him occupied.

Carrying in the colander of button mushrooms, she set them before the man without a word. As she traded him for the plate of onion slices, she caught the mischievous grin slanting its way up his face. 

"I’m not as blind as you think I am, Arden.”

“I know.”

“And he’s been looking at you like he wants to haul you off and marry you." 

She knew that too. 

Thankfully, her back was turned by in time to hide the blush spreading over her cheeks. "We’re still figuring things out,” she answered evasively. Pulling the largest pot from the oven drawer, she set about filling it in the sink.

“I know I promised not to tell you how to live your life anymore, but he’s the only man I know who’s good enough for my Arden.” She ought to just kiss him sometime. She’s been half in love with him since they were kids. 

Arden pretended not to hear his thought or his comment over the running water. Her father might claim to have seen things, but he’d missed an awful lot of kisses that had passed between them in the last couple of weeks. Beyond that, he didn’t have the faintest idea that she’d spent the night next door after the insanity of the debate. As she waited for the pot to fill, she snuck another look through the glass.

Jaime was removing his shirt.

Her skin flushed again at the sight of his toned, tanned body. Her hands ached to glide along those perfect abs – to wrap her arms around his neck so she was pressed flush against the heat of his chest. Sleeping with him had been incredible. Waking up in his arms, nothing short of divine. 

They hadn’t discussed their plans for after dinner, but maybe she could talk him into another sleepover…

With a start, she realized that the water was spilling over the side of the pot. She drained the excess quickly, vaguely aware of the sporadic sound of chopping coming from the breakfast table.

Her father didn’t say anything, but there was a distinct twinkle in his eye when she returned to the table with the beef. 

_____

 Thirty minutes later, she’d managed to produce something that vaguely resembled stroganoff. Arden counted it as something of a marvel that she hadn’t given up the whole cooking endeavor in favor of just standing and staring out the window. She knew he wasn’t doing it deliberately, but Jaime had been putting on quite a show.

Wielding a paintbrush, standing back to consider his work, wiping his brow – everything he did set her blood on fire. As the evening had worn on, the pan before her received less and less of her attention. The sight through the window had proven too tempting for her to resist. 

His work on the fence complete, Jaime had switched to trimming the bushes in front of the house. As he skirted around the plant, she caught his eye. Arden sucked a breath at his wink.

"I’ll be right back,” she promised her father, hardly taking the time to make sure that he was still cutting romaine hearts for their salad.

Jaime’s eyes were on her as soon as she passed through the door, the shears falling to his side. “The view from the kitchen wasn’t enough, I see. Did you decide it was time to get up close and personal?” 

She rolled her eyes. When she looked up at him again, she was taken aback by the glisten of sweat all over him. With his chest mere inches from her face, she could discern each perfectly sculpted ab, and her fingers twitched with longing at her side. Arden wondered idly how much it would scandalize the neighbors if she started making out with him in her father’s front yard.

Still not prepared for this view?

She reddened at his thought as their eyes met, his sweaty hair obscuring vision from one side. “I’m still getting used to...” she gestured vaguely at his stomach, much to Jaime’s amusement. “But I actually came out to give you a dinner update. It all just needs to simmer for about twenty more minutes and then we’ll be ready to eat.” 

“I’m looking forward to it. I should reach a pretty good stopping place shortly, so I’ll have time for a quick shower before we eat.”

Arden’s mouth grew very dry at the appealing mental images his suggestion graced her with. Distracted, her gaze wavered from his face for a moment – not long enough to satisfy her desire, but certainly long enough to attract his notice.

"You keep looking at my chest, Arden. Is everything okay?” Not that I mind. I’ve only been hoping for this for years.   

Knowing she’d been caught, Arden dropped all pretense and stared openly. She sighed and lifted her face to his. “I’m just thinking again how much I’d like to kiss you right now.”

Jaime bristled with pleasure. “You wouldn’t get any complaints from me if you did, but I am pretty sweaty at the moment. We should probably wait until after dinner.”

Someday, she’d have to tell him that she didn’t mind him being sweaty. In fact, she’d found sweaty kisses with Jaime to be extremely enjoyable just a few nights before. With that memory in mind, she was inspired. “Can I just have one for now?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, uncovering both eyes. The deep brown pools were gleaming with equal parts humor and desire. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

Arden tilted her chin, lips poised and eager for contact. Jaime’s mouth was warm and soft as it descended on hers, the salt of his sweat making her relish the experience even more. Body responding of its own volition, she had to pinch herself to keep from throwing both arms around his neck. Even after he’d pulled away, it took a moment for her to regain full control of her senses.

Just as her head cleared Jaime caught her by surprise, leaning down a second time to brush his lips gently across the tip of her nose. 

She wrinkled the bridge instinctively. “What was that for?”

“I couldn’t help it,” he explained. “You’re just so damn kissable, Arden.” 

“So are you. Please tell me there will be time for more kisses later?”

“I was hoping you’d suggest that.” He stretched out his free hand, skimming the pads of his fingers along her forearm. 

“The mind-blowing, earth-shaking kisses that are full of ten years of pent-up desire?”

He chuckled at her description. “You know those are my favorites. And I don’t have any plans for the rest of the night.” 

“Mmmhmmm.” His little half smile was doing funny things to her stomach. It wasn’t long before she’d lost all track of what he’d been saying. 

Should I put my shirt back on? 

His thought managed to get her attention, and she recoiled. “Don’t even joke about that. I’m enjoying the view way too much.” 

“You can enjoy it as much as you want after dinner.” 

“That feels like too long to wait.” She took another step toward him, forgetting both sweat and propriety in her need to touch him. 

“Arden,” he cautioned, though she knew from the yearning on his face that he wasn’t going to tell her no. 

Was that the door?

His thought corresponded with a click from the porch, followed by the beat of her father’s cane.

Their heads swung toward the doorway where Harry Gale stood, watching them both with an arched brow. Maybe she doesn’t need my encouragement after all... After taking a moment to collect himself, he announced, “Your pan boiled over. I got it off the burner, but I’m not sure what to do next.” 

Arden stared at him dumbly. “I was just….I, um.” She swallowed hard and forced her thoughts away from the man beside her. “I’ll come figure it out.” 

Her father retreated back to the house, leaving her alone with Jaime once more. 

“Go do what you need to do with dinner. I’ll finish up here and be in in a few minutes,” he told her, trailing a finger along her inner palm. Before she could pull away, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. 

“See you then,” she promised, breaking the link between them. As she hurried up the porch stairs, she decided that an addition to her mother’s recipe was in order: 

Step 1 - If Jaime is outside, close curtains on the kitchen window. 

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #161

Ah, the After-Suspension Party. Nearly everyone expected it was gonna happen to some degree. But just because it was predictable, that doesn’t mean it can’t be meaningful. Specifically, we see the core members of the Tomoko “harem” (I use the term half-jokingly because it’s just easier) progress in ways that you might not have expected them to, but it’s all-the-more welcome simply because of how hard our girls are trying to get their “best ending”. 

Chapter 161: Because I’m Not Popular, Things Will Go Back To Normal

Interesting choice to have Hirasawa and her BF on the splash page this time, considering they’re not in this chapter at all otherwise (though it’s not like Nico Tanigawa haven’t done it before). From the looks of thing, Hirasawa is gazing fondly at Ucchi’s compadres, yearning for the female friends she doesn’t have.

Could this be a preview for upcoming developments?

Your entire existence summed up.

There’s something oddly amusing about how Tomoko pointed out the dog while acknowledging Ucchi. Almost like she’s putting them on the same level.

Apology Progress: 21% 

For everyone’s else insistence that Tomopup is kind of weird, it’s absolutely fitting that Nemo thinks it’s cute. I could go all pseudo-psychological about how Nemo is projecting her feelings about Tomoko onto the dog, but...

...that would be stating the obvious, wouldn’t it?

Apology Progress: 30% 

“Stupid dog! You made her look bad!”

Notice how Tomoko has that extra shading on her when she pops the question? It makes the exchange feel ridiculously dramatic, and if that isn’t the mangaka toying with shippers, I don’t know what is.

Apology Progress: 90%

See? Now that wasn’t too hard, was it, Ucchi? The first step to improving oneself is admitting to your mistakes. You’re lucky that Tomoko doesn’t care that much about you to hold a grudge, but still, it took guts to humble yourself before your crush. Now you can put all that animosity behind you and move ahead to finally admitting your feel–

Apology Progress: -5%

Nah, just kidding. I knew it was going too smoothly. I’d be pissed if I wasn’t laughing too hard.

Oh, wow. Katou is actually giving Ucchi the “How would you like if they did that to you” lecture. As if her mom-level wasn’t already off the charts.

Props to the translator for finding a great alternative to use in place of “yabai”. It’s not the same word, but the reasoning still applies just as effectively as the original. 

Nice save, Ucchi.

NOT.

Apology Progress: -10%

Confession Progress (Part 2): 18%

...go on.

This close. We were this close to Ucchi finally admitting to Tomoko’s face that she finds her attractive. It’s taken a mountain of digging and prodding at Ucchi’s psyche, but her inner feelings have finally skirted the surface. Unfortunately, the plot demands that Ucchi’s progress has met its quota for the day. 

Hina Nemoto: Professional normie/otaku hybrid, aspiring voice actress, and now, expert wingwoman.

Hey, Nemo...

YOU WANT SOME ICE FOR THAT SICK BURN???

Oh, Katou. Your motherly tenderness transcends the species barrier.

Oh, Tomoko. I recommend you look up the word “projecting” when you get the chance. You may just learn something about yourself.

Oh, Ucchi. Your arsenal of kimoi-based puns knows no ends.

Oh, Yuri. Not so above it all after all. 

So Tomoko really did succumb to a bit of cabin fever, after all. I can only imagine how much Tomoko might’ve regressed if she had to do suspension on her own.

Is it weird that Tomoko and Nemo’s passive-aggressive banter makes me nostalgic? 

It’s been a while since we saw the two of them go at it like this. One key difference is that Nemo, in her growing admiration for the girl, is subtly complimenting Tomoko for how much she’s come out of her shell since the day they first met. 

Take some notes, Ucchi.

Even when she’s a disembodied fantasy head used for narrative purposes, Itou still lights up whenever she gets provoked. It’s amusing how each character has their own quirk like–wait a minute.

Itou Hikari. (hikari = light). Oh...duuuuuuuh. 

It took over two years, but what goes around has finally come around.

The fated first meeting between Tomoko and Nemoto may not have meant much for the former, but for the latter, it’s was the spark that made the otaku/normie into the girl she is today. From being the giver of fistbumps to becoming the receiver–it’s astounding how such a simple gesture can sum up their relationship like that. 

Hey now, Tomoko. You can’t exactly judge Nemo when you’re the one who introduced it to her. 

Take this with a grain of salt, but you ever get the feeling that Tomoko has memory problems? Forgetting Komi-something’s name, her brother’s school application, and now this? You could say it’s just her being a jerk and not retaining info she doesn’t care about, but maybe there’s something more to it.

(Nature documentary voice) “And here, we witness a wild Emoji Girl, commonly known as the “Ucchi”, assume the mating position as she targets her prey.”

You know what? I don’t even think Yuri is being that kuudere here. After their “date” at the recreation center. I’d say she gotten comfortable with not hogging Tomoko all for herself. Good on her, and good on Mako for looking out as always. 

“As you can see, the Emoji Girl will attempt to cozy up against the elusive Tomoko by ordering the same beverage as her.”  

That’s nothing new at this point, though it’s the first time Tomoko has been surrounded exclusively by the “popular” girls. (Yes, I know Yuri is right behind her, but still.)

I want to make some cheesy comment about how Tomoko and Yuri always have each other’s backs, but that would be...actually, screw it. They totally do.

I’m a sucker for shots like this where you can visually feel the “so near, yet so far” dynamic between two characters. Someone help me.

Rena, you ever think that being a repeat offender may have something to do with that? Or do you and Yoshida (not sure about Anna) have no concept of self-awareness?

Who’d of thought that Those Two Girls would someday be hanging out with Those Two Girls?

Actually, given the direction this manga has taken, it’s not that surprising. At first glance, it’s easy to think that Rena and Anna are a little too rowdy for the likes of Yuri and Mako. Thankfully, we have Yoshida acting as the “test run”, allowing Yuri and Mako to become accustomed to their delinquent atmosphere. Even if they don’t end up the best of friends (Rena, in particular, seems pretty high-maintenance), I don’t see any reason they couldn’t end up respecting each other. 

Now these two, on the other hand, were secretly my platonic rareOTP. Anna's the most approachable of the Delinquent Trio, and her easygoing nature feels like it could smooth out Yuri’s rougher edges. 

Yeah, I’m a sucker for Sweet Stoner x Wallflower pairings. 

–discovered what hentai is!”

First off, Yuri is too freakin’ cute nibbling at her fries like that. They seem to be going for the “big eater” trope for Yuri, and I like how it’s being played with. Improbably thin girls with big appetites are a dime a dozen in manga, but Yuri feels different because it's not that she necessarily loves food. It’s just that eating is her way of busying herself when she doesn’t want to deal with social situations. As any introvert will tell you, it’s a natural habit when you can’t muster up the nerve to speak up in a group. 

Yuri may fall behind the pack compared to the others, but what makes her special is that Tomoko will always look back for her.

Just, you know. Give her a week.

Smooth move, Tomoko! Calling Yuri by her first name in front of the others now? May as well have been a marriage proposal!

Nico Tanigawa are making it really hard for me to remove my (Friend)shipping Goggles when they include “long-lost lovers” dialogue like this. (Or maybe I’m the only one who sees it that way...)

Off-topic, but something about the perspective of this shot seems off. I think it’s the chairs’ different-sized legs.

This entire image just gave me Type 1 Diabetes.

There’s no grudge or snubbing that one might’ve expected from Yuri. Instead, Tomoko offered her a sincere–if not teasing–retort, and Yuri responded back in kind. The general hesitation that Yuri has when Tomoko’s being weirdly affectionate isn’t an issue anymore. But the sweetness dials up to eleven when you remember how Yuri flubbed the flirty joke Tomoko offered during the Mouseyland trip. Yuri��s learned how to banter with her, and best of all, she’s enjoying it. If that ain’t friendship goals, I don’t know what is.   

You know a friendship has potential when you’re buying extra fries for the table.

If there’s an edge that Yuri has over the others right now, it’s that she’s acquainted with Tomoko’s actual soulmate, Yuu Naruse.

This chapter’s title is really misleading, but not by how it’s normally done by this series. It states that “things will go back to normal”, and back in the early days, it was meant to be ironic. It would suggest that Tomoko would return to her unchanging loneliness, only for us to be hit with the amusing realization that things have changed now that she’s made friends.

But here, it’s a double subversion. That chapter title is now being played totally straight. Everything we’re seeing now–Yuri opening up and being less possessive, Nemo’s “tough love”, and Ucchi’s whirlwind efforts of befriending Tomoko? That is the normal now. Tomoko’s improving high school life is no longer a shift in the series’ premise. It is the series’ premise. 

To not be afraid of change without ignoring your roots is the true mark of what makes Watamote stand out as a coming-of-age story.

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Secrets” Part 1

The Joker did something so unforgivable and despicable you don’t ever want to see him  again. After months of avoiding The King of Gotham, you really can’t understand why he appointed you as the only person to take care of his son in case of emergency. There’s no way you’ll accept to help the little boy in his father’s absence, yet the three years old has no fault in what happened between you and your ex.

Part 2: http://diyunho(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/178630090876/the-joker-x-reader-secrets-part-2

You have no idea for how long you’ve been driving, but you feel the need to pull over again: the restlessness is becoming unbearable and the tears clouding your vision make it dangerous to continue the trip for the moment.

You signal and switch lanes, slowly approaching the emergency shoulder ahead without a clue about what to do afterwards; one thing’s for sure though: Y/N will definitely take refuge in LA.

At this point it’s safe to say that the town her father owns is probably the only home she ever had; not a very comforting notion yet the shocking revelation she accidentally stumbled upon a few hours ago doesn’t leave any room for alternatives.

You park as close as possible to the concrete railing and get out of the SUV, the cold air making you shiver since your coat is quite thin for the chilly spring afternoon. You start pacing around the car, hesitantly glaring at your cellphone. Should you make the call now or wait?... …

Might as well get it over with.

You press the screen on the sole name listed under “Important Contacts”: Dad.

The Joker’s phone number used to be there also; it got blocked and removed when you had to stop for fuel at a gas station back in Gotham.

Jase picks up right away and the sound of his familiar voice makes it harder to keep yourself together.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi daddy,” you sniffle and bite on your lip, not wanting to cry. “How are you?”

“Not bad for an old man, kid. How’s my favorite daughter?” he asks and despite not remembering being more upset in your life, you still crack a smile since the mobster doesn’t have any other children.

“I’m OK dad,” you gulp and continue. ”I’m actually on my way to Los Angeles; I should be there tomorrow night.”

“That’s great, Y/N! I didn’t see you in a while and I sure miss you. How long are you staying?”

You take a deep breath, almost chocking on the painful words:

“Indefinitely…”

Absolute silence for a few seconds and then Jase growls:

“What the fuck did he do now?”

You sigh, choosing not to share the specifics of your decision.

“It’s just not working out…So I’m coming home…Can I use the house again please?” your request makes your parent cringe.

“That’s your house and you don’t need my permission to live there, kiddo. What’s going on, hm? You know you can tell me,” the 62 years old attempts to reason with the distressed Y/N: although she’s doing a decent job at hiding her heartache, he can read in between the lines.

“I’ll…I’ll be fine dad, don’t worry,” you mutter and your father knows better than to push for a confession; you’ll probably bring him up to date when you’ll be ready. “I think I’ll get on the road again; I have to cover as much distance as possible today.”

“Sure kid, I’ll see you soon. Drive safe!” Jase agrees because he realizes his daughter won’t be able to talk for longer: she sounds flustered and will probably burst into tears as soon as she hangs up.

“I will daddy. Bye…” is the faint answer the King of LA discerns before the conversation ends.

That son of a bitch! Jase grinds his teeth, angered at the simple affirmation of what he feared for months: The Joker was the wrong choice and certainly didn’t deserve your affection.

You were in love with him regardless.

So what the hell happened?!

************

Five hours ago

You were beyond excited to see J after the four days business trip; your father had a special request for his daughter to help smoothing out a transaction with one of his main New York partners and you obliged. Things went better than expected: Y/N managed to finish the assignment a day earlier which made the anticipation of being reunited with her boyfriend feel like a well-deserved bonus.

You rushed out of the elevator straight into the living room at the Penthouse and your enthusiasm got cut off when you saw this woman wearing one of your silk robes nonchalantly organizing piles of money in a few suitcases scattered on the floor. Her eyes got big when she noticed your presence.

“You’re early,” the woman concluded, more annoyed than surprised. “Weren’t you supposed to return tomorrow?”

You gazed at her with contempt, unaware of how bad it was.

“Who are you?” you frowned, heart beating so fast it was deafening.

She smirked, taking it upon herself to brief the clueless Y/N about the truth despite knowing The Joker will go ballistic at her actions:

“I’m his wife you dumb girl.”

You seemed stupefied and she continued:

“He does this from time to time if it benefits us business wise. Though I have to admit one year is the longest I had to share him with anybody and I’m tired of it! My husband never tells me who the women are and I trust he’s doing whatever necessary to ensure our future. I’m sick of people not knowing he’s mine!” she raised her voice, jealousy taking over. “Who are you, hm? What’s so important about you that he didn’t break it up yet?” she got worked up, seeing that as her chance to unravel the mystery of The Joker’s lengthy relationship with the stunned Y/N.

“I’m the Godfather’s daughter,” you mumbled and her entitled smile died under the burden of understanding she messed up badly.  

Damn, The King of LA’s offspring! That’s why the money was pouring in from all the transactions with the other gang, that’s why The Joker kept you for so long. Oh God, he’s going to lose his mind! He should have said something to his wife about your identity, at least this time around: you were probably his most ambitious and lucrative project ever. Unfortunately, his other half screwed up beyond repair.

J’s voice coming from upstairs got you out of trance:

“Who are you talking to Nessa?” and he starting descending from the top floor with a little boy in his arms. Half way through he realized you were there and abruptly stopped, prompting the child to complain:

“Daaaaddy, I’m hungry.”

The Joker gazed at the two women in his life and didn’t get the opportunity to reply the burning question:

“You have a child?!...”

Y/N ran out of the premises, unable to fully comprehend what she witnessed by mere coincidence. She took the stairs, stumbling and almost falling on the way down; her ears were ringing and she could barely see a few feet ahead which was much better than the aftermath of the encounter happening at the Penthouse.

The Joker put his son down and urged him to go back to the master bedroom, stomping towards his petrified wife.

“What did you tell her??” he yelled so loud it made her shiver. “What did you say??” J pushed her against the wall and Nessa took a stance despite the survival instinct advising of the opposite.

“I didn’t know she is the Godfather’s daughter, ok? I’m aware we’re doing this for us, but you should keep me in the loop! I didn’t know who she was. I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry???” he snarled and the eerie grimace on his face turned into genuine insanity. “You ruined all of it and you’re sorry?? Who gave you permission to open your mouth, huh?? I could have fixed this, I could have made her think I was cheating and patch it up!!!”

“Why are you so mad?...” she had the nerve to fight and J slammed her on the floor, livid at the defiant behavior. “Do you…do you actually like her??!”

“Shut up!” he kicked her and she couldn’t stop:

“Is that it?! You like her?!”

“I said SHUT UP!” The Joker got on top of Nessa and pinned her body under his, wishing to squeeze the life out of her with his bare hands for the total disaster she was responsible for.

“Mommy…” their three years old son whimpered, scared to see his parents like that; they were caught up in the feud and didn’t see Alexis sneaking downstairs. “Mommy…” the terrified little boy made his father postpone his rampage.

“You ruined my hard work,” he hissed and got off her. “One year down the drain and you have the audacity to inquire if I like her??! Do you know how much money we lost since Jase won’t do business with me after this??!!”

“I’m sorry baby,” Nessa kept on coughing and curled up in a ball.  

Alexis couldn’t stop sobbing and The Joker lift him up, panting with indignation while trying to suppress his rage.

“Sorry won’t fix shit!!!” he screamed and stormed out of the room, leaving his wife on the floor, grateful to have escaped his violent attack.

**************

After three months

You are at your father’s mansion, organizing his numerous accounts and updating wire transfers that need immediate attention after the settlements negotiated during the previous day.

“Done?” he uses his cane to knock at the opened door.

“Yes, dad. Probably 10 more minutes and I’m out of here.”

“Take your time kid,” he comes in and takes a stroll around his spacious office, wanting to share what he just found out.

You are completely absorbed into your assignment and Jase analyzes your features, delighted as always to see so much of him in his daughter.    

“Say Y/N,” he gets your attention,”wanna hear some news?”

“Hmm?” you lift your head up from the laptop, not overly curious to discover whatever he wants to share.

“Your ex nearly lost his life two days ago. Apparently an ambush. His wife was with him, my sources inform. She’s dead and he’s not doing well either,” your parent emphasizes the secret relationship and watches you squirm in your chair, startled at his unexpected revelation. “Is that why you left him?” the interrogation makes you hold your breath and he shakes his head, irritated. “You found out the jerk was married? Why didn’t you tell me?”

You exhale, cornered by the impulsive Godfather.

“Because I didn’t want the business partnership between Gotham and LA to be impacted by my personal life,” you blur out one of the main reasons for your silence.

“Business partnership?! When it comes to my family to you think I give a damn about monetary gain? Are you serious?!”

“I knew you would retaliate and I didn’t want him to think that I care. Because…because I don’t,” the sadness in your voice makes Jase calm down a bit.

“… … Why are you crying then?...” he pushes the box of tissue in front of his devastated daughter; you didn’t even realize tears are rolling down your face. Jase grabs your hand and pulls you up in his embrace, holding you closer when you start bawling your eyes out on his shoulder. “Nobody messes with my little girl,” he whispers and caresses your hair, somewhat discouraged by your objection:

“I’m 30 daddy,” you sniffle and bury your face in his shoulder again.

“Still my little girl,” your father grumbles, displeased his own flesh and blood thought she didn’t mean more to him than a few million dollars.

It’s clear you kept the secret for other reasons also, probably the most important being the embarrassment of finding out you were used and taken for an idiot by the man you obviously loved.

A whole year of lies and deceit…

The cut runs deeper when it comes from the person that meant so much it got you convinced to change your mind about not wanting children; The Joker probably laughed at your willingness to give him an heir when he already had one with his own wife.

The two of them definitely deserved each other, but he definitely didn’t deserve you.  

***********

2 weeks later at your house

“What does he want?” you sneer after one of the guards entrusted with your security told you Jonny Frost is here to ask for a meeting.

“I’m not sure, he says it’s an emergency. He has a little boy with him,” Nixon adds and you put aside the book you’re reading, intrigued. “Should I let him in?”

You nod a yes and furrow your eyebrows as soon as Frost enters the lounge: he’s carrying Alexis in his arms, the child fast asleep after the exhausting journey from Gotham to Los Angeles.

“Hello Y/N,” Jonny greets and you cut him off.

“What do you want?”

The Joker’s trusted henchman had a speech prepared for the encounter, yet given the current situation and the bitter look on your face he has to be as concise as possible.

“Mister J is very sick.”

“How is that any of my concern?!” you resentfully interrupt.

“Boss has to undergo a few surgeries since he can’t walk or talk properly,” Frost colors the big picture with a few carefully chosen words. “He left special instructions regarding his son: Mister J would like you to take care of Alexis in his absence.”

“Get out!” you snap and stand up from the couch. “Get out!” you repeat, disgusted by his demand. “The Joker has plenty of resources and people to fulfill his instructions. I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE PEOPLE!!!” you yell and the three years old is rubbing his eyes, almost woken up by the commotion. “How dare you come here and ask such a thing after what happened? Get out!”

“I didn’t know,” Jonny responds since he guessed exactly what you’re referring to. “I had no clue. And even if I knew, I couldn’t have said anything anyway,” his honesty doesn’t make it better. “Please take Alexis, I can’t go back with him; you know how Mister J is. Please Y/N,” Frost pleads and you bark:

“You have 20 seconds to disappear from my sight!!”

Nixon and four other goons approach, signaling Jonny to follow them because it’s evident the fuming Y/N is not thrilled with the uninvited guests. Frost has no other option besides leaving the premises, wondering how he’s going to explain his failure to The Joker.

“Ava!” you address the woman patrolling the western corridor of the house. “Have the crew ready in one hour, I need to pick up some diamonds from Enzo Neroni.”

Jonny is too far to discern the rest of the conversation and a simple plan flourishes in his brain: Enzo is one of the smugglers J uses on a regular basis also. Frost knows exactly where to find him and this might be the only chance that will act in his favor.

At this point he has nothing to lose.

************

“What is he doing here?” you point out at The Joker’s son as Enzo neatly places the purchased diamonds in tiny jewelry boxes.

“Uhh,” he shrieks. “Frost dumped him here until he can find a safe place for the kid. I guess his father will be out of commission for at least one month and he doesn’t want anyone messing with his offspring. I’m sure they’ll be some jumping at the opportunity. Get out of my way!” Enzo pushes the little boy and he falls on his knees, picking himself up afterwards. Alexis holds his teddy bear tighter, staring at all the strangers around and seems terrified.

“Can you not do that?” you smack your lips, aggravated.

“Do what?” Enzo halts his task. “You don’t want the gems in boxes? I can put them in pouches.”

“I was talking about the young boy,” you clarify your statement.

The smuggler lifts his shoulders up, defending his indifference.

“My warehouse is no place for children. Hey, don’t touch that!” he slaps Alexis’s hand when he reaches for a bottle of water on the table. “I didn’t say you can have it! I fucking hate kids,” he gives the three years old a mean look and it pisses you off.

“Are you thirsty?” you ask and snatch the water, opening the lid.

“U-hum,” Alexis barely manages to utter.

“Can I have this water or do I need permission too?” you mock and Enzo lifts his hands up in surrender, not wanting to initiate trouble. “Here,” you offer it to the little one and help him drink. He sure is thirsty since it takes a few good seconds before finishing. “Are you hungry?” and the child shrivels up, not answering your question. “Did you give him anything to eat?”

“No; I suppose I can send somebody to fetch some food when I have a moment,” Enzo groans and arranges the boxes inside the empty suitcase you came with.

“Do you think The Joker would be happy with that answer?” you frown and the reply bothers you more than it should:

“Mister J is not here, Y/N. I’m doing the best I can under the circumstances.”

“Your best sucks!” you mutter and take the hasty decision that will change the future for the parties involved, even if you don’t know it yet. “Where are his things?”

“In my van. Why?” Enzo is curious to hear.

“He’s coming with me, that’s why! Nixon, get the diamonds,” you order the bodyguard and you extend the palm of your hand, waiting for Alexis to take it. “Come on, let’s go,” you force a grin on your face and the little boy stalls until you encourage him again. “Come on,” and the small fingers are finally trapped within yours. “Don’t be scared, it’s ok,” you walk at his pace towards the exit.

Once you and your team are gone, Enzo dials Frost’s number and informs:

“She took him.”

Jonny is not big on religion but feels that today he was granted divine intervention.

“Oh thank God! That was so close to disaster,” he sighs, relieved.

“You better tell Mister J I didn’t do anything to his son! You know she’ll talk, I don’t want him coming after me. Tell him I actually helped and it was part of the plan. Do you fucking understand? I don’t want any trouble!”

“I’ll tell him,” Frost reassures and Enzo hangs up, wondering if it was wise to get involved in the messy situation.

**************

“I’ll tuck you in,” you pull the warm covers on top of Alexis and he anxiously wiggles after another thunder strikes in the distance. “It’s alright, it’s just a storm,” you try to make the little boy relax.

You were gone for most of the day and Ava was left in charge of the kid; at least he was bathed, fed and changed in clean clothes, undoubtedly safe under your roof just like his father wished.

“My name is Y/N. What’s your name?” you adjust his stuffed teddy bear under the blankets.

“Alexis…” he shyly whispers and gulps when another strong thunder shakes the house.

“That was close,” you wink and he nervously whimpers, distracted by the loud noise.

“Whe’s mommy?” Alexis suddenly asks. “I…I want my daddy,” his eyes get teary because he doesn’t know you and he’s frightened.

A three years old can’t possibly fathom why he doesn’t see his mother anymore and why his dad disappeared also.

“They’re not here…” you bite on your cheek. “You’ll stay with me for a while.”

“I want my moommyyy,” the boy starts crying and you don’t really know what to do.

You get under the covers and pull him in your arms, attempting to comfort an agitated child that squirms to escape the stranger’s embrace.

“Ssssstt, it’s ok,” you keep on gently rocking him and another powerful thunder makes Alexis instinctively cling to your nightgown. “You’re ok, it’s just nasty weather. It will go away,” you caress his hair with one hand and use the other to hug him again. “There you go, don’t cry. It’s fine…” you smile and his eyes gaze into yours, totally immersed in your soothing presence. “Ssstttt, you’re good,” you cuddle with the kid, protectively holding him until his body is not tense anymore.

The Joker’s son is falling asleep and even if the raging tempest wreaks havoc outside, someone showing him affection after being tossed around all day makes him cozy. Alexis has no idea that the woman tricked into taking care of him has no obligation to do so; in fact quite the opposite. His luck has changed tonight especially since there are several groups interested in taking advantage at J’s present misfortune.

The secret is out and can’t be swept under the carpet: The King of Gotham was married and he does have a child. With many enemies lurking in the darkness waiting for a chance to strike, it’s a miracle it didn’t happen yet.

But a miracle never lasts for long and destiny has a funny way of making everyone pay their debts.

Or send unexpected help from a person that shouldn’t lift a finger in granting safe haven to a little boy that reminds Y/N of his father’s deception.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

[spoopybruh]

If you’re still taking prompts, maybe Andrew being super bummed out and moody after Steven moves to NYC and Adam points this out. and Andrew does some reflecting and then realizes he’s in love with steven and flies to see him. it can have angst the fluffier and happier the ending the better. I just need some fluff i’ve seen too much angst recently:(. tysm I LOVE your writing

[ I am! Thank you for the compliment, I’m glad to hear that you do! That’s most encouraging. Here’s angst w a happy ending for you! May I also suggest you listen to this song while you read? c: ]

Twenty seven Worth It videosin, Andrew receives a quiet but firm tap against the desk space next to hislaptop and glances upwards to acknowledge the appearance of a familiar friend.With a degree of reluctance, he pauses the current video he was on and removeshis ear-buds right as Adam makes himself comfortable in Steven's seat anunoccupied office chair next to him."Hey."Now that his attention is mainly focused on his friend and colleague, it'simpossible for Andrew not to have missed the fleeting yet pointed glance Adamoffers to the display on his screen. While he hadn't verbally brought thingsup, it's enough to have Andrew feeling defensive enough to fully shut the coverof his laptop down in an audible click. 

"Just uh-" An abortive shrug of his shoulder was made. "Doingsome research." He knows it's as flimsy of an excuse as they come- doesn't mean he still won'tmake an attempt to navigate out of an undoubtedly awkward situation.Unfortunately enough, Adam's nowhere as new of a friend to let him off thateasily.

"By watching oldvideos?"  There's no hesitation inthe dry disbelief of Adam's delivery when he responds to his truthfullypathetic attempt of an excuse and Andrew has to fight back the urge to wincebecause damn, talk about leaving no wiggle room. Then again, Adam isn't theonly stubborn one in this situation. Not...situation but it very well is fast becoming one.

"Yeah. You don'tknow what we could have missed. Could work it into our contingency plans orsomething."

Andrew's repeatattempt draws a longsuffering sigh from his companion and he allows himself aspan of a few seconds to feel a reflexive stab of guilt before rectifying thatwith a reminder that Adam didtechnically start this, therefore he has no grounds to be making Andrew feelbad.

"Andrew-"Okay now he really feels bad forbeing the cause of that much exasperation. "It's been months." There's only so many repeats of the same videosone can watch without being suspected of feeling some type of way. Adam doesn'tvocalise that but the implications were clear. Knowing that they were leaves asour taste in Andrew's mouth that worsens when Adam's frustrations faded intosomething softer. Something that resembled sympathy mingled with pain. "You can't keep living like this."

The intake of breathhe draws into his lungs is shaky to say the least. Done out of necessity tosteady himself from the hollow ache that settles against his chest with anoppressive weight. "I know, Adam. I just-" Another deep inhale. Keep it together.There's no reason he should be feeling like this. He has no right. It wasn'this decision to make and it still isn't. Thinking otherwise would have beenselfish.

I miss him.

"I guess I just needmore time. It won't...I won't always be like this, I promise. I just...needmore time."

It's ridiculous. Heknows it is. Steven's not dead. Theystill talk all the time and if he wanted to, he could always see what Steven isup to by following his social media updates. He's not dead. He's just...gone. He's just not here and the factthat his absence in proximity could upset the balance of peace Andrew feels isridiculous. It shouldn't be the case, except it is. Even if it made no damn sense.

There were times whereAndrew momentarily resents Steven for that. For somehow making him care. Forbeing able to affect him this drastically. For leaving everything and everyonebehind that easily, like they meant nothing to him. Like he meant nothing to him. And that's fucked up because he shouldn'tbe feeling this way. A change in environment and resources meant thepossibility of accomplishing more. Steven has plans for his future and Andrewhas no place holding him back from fulfilling his goals.

"Andrew." Ohwow a second Adam-trademark sigh. They're really on a roll today.  Adam's fingers dug in slightly when he sets ahand on his shoulder and squeezes. Perhaps it's due to the fact that he'saccustomed to handling heavy filming equipment, so his grip gets a little toostrong at times. But Andrew finds the pressure steadying. Like an anchor,securing him so he has no danger of drifting off. Drifting away. Not like-

"This isn't aproblem that can be fixed with time. You're not helping anyone by letting itfester." His friend is undeterred in his chiding but no less gentledespite his insistence. "Whatever this is. It has to stop. It's nothealthy."

" I've tried. Nothing's working."

He resists the urge toscrub at his own face. Exhaustion weighs heavy against his temples, leaningagainst the slopes of his shoulders.

"Steven's myfriend too, you know." Hearing his name spoken aloud is clarity at itscoldest. Adam waits for him to make eye contact again before he continues."You're not the only one who has to deal with having a close friend leave-I did as well. And right now, I feel like I'm losing another even though he'ssitting next to me every day."  

Despite his usual eloquence, Andrew finds thatthe lump forming against the back of his throat severely dampens his ability toform a sentence. Regardless, there's nothing he could have said to deny thestark truth of Adam's statement. Steven isn't just Andrew's friend. Everyonemisses him too. And in the time Andrew had spent moping in the face of hisdeparture for New York, he's kind of neglected to see that they were all copingwith his absence too. God, what a shitty friend he'd been. "....Adam, I'm sorry."

"I know, I'msorry too. I waited because I thought it'd get easier to deal with but you'vejust been getting worse. I've never seen you get this bad. Not since-"Adam breaks the rest of his sentence off with a decisive shake of his head. Tohis credit, he barely falters when he continued on. "This has to stop,Andrew. You need to stop pretending that nothing's wrong. You have to dosomething about it."

The backs of his eyesstung when Andrew closes them and wills his voice not to waver.

"I don't knowwhat to do."

Sheer vulnerability inhis admission has him speaking in a hushed tone, twisting his fingers to focuson anything else but the pain. "Besides, it's not like I can just show upunannounced-" "You can."

The conviction inAdam's tone has the rest of his words vacating the premises in an instant andit's all Andrew could do but stare at him in bewilderment. He can't reallyexpect Andrew to just drop everything and step out just to fly all the way toNew York and confront Steven- what the fuck was he even supposed to say? 'Hey sorryfor dropping in so suddenly but you leaving us all behind really hurt myfeelings.' Yeah that would go well.

"You can." Adam repeats once again."I've checked. HQ in New York's currently looking to liaise with someonein our offices for a cross-collaboration so you can go as long as youparticipate in it and facilitate the whole set up. Just think about it,okay?"

As quickly as he'dmade his entrance, Adam disappears after offering Andrew two more meaningfulpats on the shoulder and leaves him reeling in an effort to process theinformation he'd just been offered. Against better judgment, Andrew does end upthinking about it. More specifically, it creeps up on him the moment he stopsbeing able to find other matters to focus on. With a simple yet succinctresponse, Adam has successfully managed to rip off the metaphorical 'Do NotCross' tape he'd painstakingly placed up in the corners of his mind.

Case in point: Stevenis working from their offices in New York rather than here with them and Andrewis upset about it. That's to be expected. Anyone who's developed a friendshipwith Steven would naturally feel upset about watching him go. What the problemhere is that he's been consistently low ever since he'd made the transfer. Hemisses him all the time. Misses beingable to see his face when Andrew successfully sneaks in a pun. Misses beingable to poke and prod at his sides when work is particularly slow. Misses thefamiliar cadence of Steven's voice when he whines his name with mockexasperation.

It's an acute feelingof loss. No longer being surrounded by Steven with his steven-esque things allover the desk. Not having to play wrestle him because he keeps stealing andstretching out Andrew's jackets instead of using his own. Missing the littlethings that have come to mean something to Andrew. Sure they still talk asoften as possible through ,their group chats or arranging times to make calls.Steven sends him memes and images all the time. He saves them all. Butit's not the same as having Steven actually beside him. And how long would thatlast? Sooner or later, Steven is going to meet new people. He's going to makenew friends, be swept up with different projects and before he knows it, thetimes in which they'll be able to contact each other would dwindle. Thebeautiful and cruel thing about Life is that it goes on. It'll always go on andAndrew would be here. Stuck in the moment like he usually is.

Sooner or later, he'sgoing to have to let Steven go.

And- oh.

"Oh my god."This time the tears really do fall. "I'm in love with Steven Lim."

A week later, heboards his flight to New York with his heart in his throat and conviction onhis mind. Past Andrew might have been tempted to decide it's a stupid idea,turn back and die with regret weighing like a perpetual sheet of ice againsthis innards. Current Andrew has decided that he owes it to himself, and Adam,to at least give it a try.

Hours later, Andrew'sin the midst of a rooftop party hosted at their headquarters there. Under thecover of flashing lights, an excitable crowd dancing and mingling about, it'seasy for Andrew to slip in the background unnoticed. With practised ease, heweaves through the throng of colleagues both new and old, careful not to spillthe drink he's clutching onto for a sense of security. Before long, hissweeping gaze lands on Steven.

Even among a crowdwhose liveliness easily matched his, there's something about Steven that standsout. He's bobbing along to the beat in what Andrew recognises as one of hisgoofy moves, laughing along with the others and he steps forward before he'sable to overthink the awkwardness of his actions or how this is still a stupid fucking idea.

Andrew gets aboutthree quarters of the way there before Steven catches sight of him andimmediately does a double take so quick, he wonders if it gave him whiplash.But Andrew doesn't get much time to think after that because the gaping wideeyed expression on Steven's face soon morphs into jubilance and Steven'sbreaking out into a sprint towards him. A couple of hurried 'Sorry's later, hefinds the air knocked out of him as his companion straight up barrels into him,sending the both of them stumbling for a few paces before they're able to catchtheir balance. Andrew's lifted off the ground with how full bodied Steven'sembrace was and under normal circumstances, he would have been self consciousenough to protest about causing a commotion in public.

But this is by nomeans a normal situation so instead of complaining, he secures his own armsaround Steven's shoulders, presses his face against the crook of his neck andsqueezes back. The familiarity of the shampoo and laundry detergent Steven useswashes over him like a warm breeze on a cold evening and he has to resist theurge to shudder before pulling him even closer- if that was even possible. Steven'swarmth is steadying. The lankiness of his body securing Andrew against him isfamiliar and he's never been extremely emotional but for the span of a fewseconds, he swears he could start crying again because even after all this timein New York, Steven still feels like home.

All too soon, the hugends but Andrew couldn't bring himself to protest since Steven's still holdingonto him by his shoulders and offering him his full attention. Being on thereceiving end of such a bright welcoming grin is like basking in the warm raysof the sun on a lazy afternoon and Andrew intends to keep it with him as longas he could.

"Holy shit! Ithought I was seeing things, oh my god! Andrew?!!! What're you doinghere?"

Already, Steven'schattering with enthusiasm, squeezing at his biceps while he beams from ear toear. He makes to draw Andrew into the crowd, holding on to his wrist in a lighttug, probably to introduce him to people. And he can't begrudge the confusionthat settled soon after when he's prevented from doing so by way of Andrewtugging him back.

"Later." Hemouths at Steven through the heavy thrumming of bass and music, motioning withhis head. "Can we-?"

Comprehension dawns onhis companion soon enough because he's nodding back in confirmation andflashing him yet another grin. This time, Steven switches direction and Andrewfollows. Together, they make their way through the crowd, dodging theoccasional errant elbow and shuffling feet as best as they were able. Stevenleads him away from the party, pushing the doors open so that they would be mostlyseparated from the commotion.

"So what'sup?"

Ever the directperson, he wastes no time in sinking down on one of the sofas available,patting at the other end in an invitation to sit. Eyes, as lively as they weresharp, focused on Andrew in a bid to study his reactions and he has to remindhimself to breathe now that he's able to fully take in the sight of Stevenwithout all the distracting strobe lights around.

When Andrew doesn'timmediately answer the question, concern starts to seep into Steven'sdemeanour.

"....Iseverything okay?" Concern is soon to be replaced with alarm as Stevenstiffens. "Are you okay? Is everyone okay?"

"No, no.Everything's fine." For once since the whole duration of being in NewYork, Andrew finds familiar ground, waving Steven's concerns away before theother could worry himself into panic. "It's just...."

No turning back now. Fingerscurled into fists before relaxing repeatedly as Andrew fought to keep hisnerves in check. Distantly, he wonders if the loud beating in his ears is aside effect from the music, or if it's his heart currently trying to vacate hischest because it sure as hell  isstarting to seem more like the latter.

"Look, Steven. Iknow this is a really dumb idea and I know that it's stupid but hear meout."

There was so much tounpack. So much left unsaid that he could have brought up: 'I missed you. Weall did' for one. 'I told you I was happy for you but I really didn't want youto go' for another. What came out of his lips in a hurried breathless mannerwas "I love you."

Like water from abroken dam, it spills from him without restraint.

"I'm in love with you. Have been for a long time.And I know now isn't a good time for me to be telling you this. Especially whenyou have your own things to do here and you're just settling in with your newlife. But...I think about how years or even months from now.....how things maychange for better or for worse and I just...the thought of you moving on fromm- from us, the thought about having to one day let you go completely...itterrifies me. So-" Admittedly, he's not the best at heartfelt speechesbecause he breaks off to wring his hands. "So this is me letting you knowthat you're important to me. And that I love you. I don't expect anything inreturn from you and I'm alright with continuing to be friends. Just pleasedon't cut me off."

He'd be able to handlemost of anything but that. Though he'd spent so long waiting to see Stevenagain, it's suddenly very hard to meet his eyes. In the quietude of the officespace, it's almost quiet enough to hear the words of the remixes that werecurrently being played through the doors. Andrew doesn't regret getting hiswords out even if they weren't rehearsed and he's reeling them off from the topof his head. He doesn't regret the fact that he's just virtually spilledeverything he'd been holding in out.

What's probably theworst thing out of this is that Steven has gone completely still. And with eachpassing second of his silence, Andrew has the mounting urge to apologise and sinkdown into concrete floors. After an eternity, he swallows his shame and chancesa glance up.

Only to see an openlygaping Steven whose pink cheeks were rapidly gaining colour. When Stevenfinally speaks, he emits an undignified squeak that has Andrew fighting off theurge to laugh. His voice cracks when he thumps the front of his chest and triesagain.

"You...soyou...you booked a flight, took it all the way here, came to HQ, all just totell me that?" Okay screw that, there goes the urge to laugh. Andrew released an embarrassedhuff instead. "I told you it was ridiculous." Unlike the higher pitch in Steven'sreply, he murmurs in a tone so quiet, Steven has to tilt his head to the sideto hear it. "But that was the plan, yes."

"Andrew....that'slike...something straight out of a rom-com movie."

"You know me, I'mfull of surprises."

Snickering filled theair briefly in the face of Andrew's dry remark. There is a bright glimmer inSteven's eyes when he worries at his own bottom lip and reaches out. Longerfingers skated across the outlines of his knuckles when Steven rests both hishands atop of Andrew's, easily covering them with his palms. If Andrew's hearthad been hammering then, it sure as hell doesn't plan on stopping anytime soonwith Steven's next words.

"Can I kissyou?"

Not fully trustinghimself with words, he substitutes a verbal response with a nod instead,leaning in. Much like before, Steven meets him in the middle, shifting closerso that he could press their lips together experimentally in a chaste kiss.It's not perfect by any means- Steven's lips are chapped, the tips of theirnoses bumped together and it took a lot of adjusting angles to accommodate eachother before they find an agreeable arrangement. But it was real. It was good.Better than good. Whatever word that conveys 'yes' because Andrew's a littletoo preoccupied to be able to give a term to it.

They break the kissand Steven shivers before he leans in once more. Then they're kissing again.And again. It gets a little easier to lose himself in each kiss. In the waySteven rubs at his cheeks with his thumbs when he cups his face and catches hisbottom lip with his teeth. In the noises of delight he makes each time Andrewdoes something he finds particularly enjoyable. In the feather light tickles ofSteven's lashes brushing against him briefly each time they shift. Andrewdrinks it all in. He kisses him like it's the first and last time he'll ever beable to do so. Vows to bottle this moment in his memory. Memorise the littledips and divots of Steven's lips fitted against his. Memorises the way Stevenexhales a sigh of heady relief when they break for air.

"That was farbetter than I imagined it to be."

"Than youimagined it to be? Steven you-"

Andrew's thrown offbalance both figuratively and literally as Steven snorts and pinches at the tipof his nose. Steven's cheeks were still pink when he answers the unspokenquestion.

"I love you too,duh. Like- a lot."

It takes Andrew awhole five minutes to regain coherency in his brain functions after that. In thatspan of time, Steven's taken him by the hand, led him towards the exit andstopped to kiss him again.

[nimiumcaelo]

“Indeed, Miss?” -- Chapter 2

Chapter summary: Aunts A. and D. put their feet down. Bertie chafes not a small amount.

Chapter 2: Unwelcome News

I confess I was in a somewhat frigid mood come morning. While my immediate reaction to the knowledge that Miss Wooster and I shared certain inclinations was one of hope and a tremulous joy, thorough consideration showed that it would be unwise for me to desire anything of Miss Wooster, especially now that her aunts were attempting to sway her from the path of bohemianism. This affected my mood because, over the past months or so, I had been nursing a tender sort of affection for my employer. She was always so kind to me and I felt drawn to her as a plant towards the sunlight. The knowledge that I must give up my affection for good was rather painful.

Miss Wooster did not appear to be in the best of spirits, either, which was probably due to our disagreement the previous night. When I set her cup of tea on the bedside table and opened the curtains, she blinked at me in a peevish manner and scowled into the sheets over her lap.

“How’s the weather today, Rosalyn?” she inquired blandly. “Still fair?”

“Yes, miss, it appears that today will be extremely clement. Few clouds are expected and the temperature is to be near twenty degrees.”

Miss Wooster yawned. “Charming. I expect Angelo will want a tennis match, then, eh? Shame we're leaving.”

“Undoubtedly the weather would be suitable for it, miss.”

She rose and began to remove her nightclothes. I had laid out her garments for the day – a muted gray tweed skirt with dove blouse – and assisted her in dressing. While completing the actions, I attempted to keep my physical contact with Miss Wooster at a minimum. Unfortunately, this drew attention to myself and Miss Wooster fixed me with a critical eye. It is no difficulty for her to parse out the emotions of another and she had always been able to read me with the same ease that she read her mystery novels. Perhaps fortunately, perhaps not, she attributed my ill mood to her decision regarding the hair-stylist from Naples and began to vehemently defend herself.

“I’ll have you know, Rosalyn,” she declared. “That seven out of every ten women about town these days are sporting a bob. Mary Pickford got one, even.”

“Yes, miss.”

“I’ve had these long locks of mine for years, now, and it’s high time they’ve gotten the boot.”

“Very good, miss.”

“And you can style a bob, you know. You don’t just have to leave it hang like the laundry.”

“Yes, miss.”

Miss Wooster frowned at me as I buttoned her blouse. “Stop using that soupy tone, Rosalyn. I know you’re upset with me.”

“Oh, no, miss, I am quite content.”

“Oh, yes, Rosalyn. Out with it.”

I selected a pair of shoes and helped her to put them on. I was, of course, not at all intending to reveal the true reason of my discontent to Miss Wooster; that would be highly inappropriate. I was just about to indicate further reasons why Miss Wooster should not opt for a bob hair-style when I was saved the effort by a heavy knock upon Miss Wooster’s door.

It was her Aunt Agatha. I was reminded immediately of the lady’s intent to forbid Miss Wooster’s continuation of her “revelries.”

“Good morning, Rosalyn,” she greeted me. “I trust Miss Wooster is awake?”

I could hear Miss Wooster behind me attempting to hide in the closet. “Yes, madam, she is.”

“Good, good. I need to have a word with her alone, Rosalyn, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all, madam. Mrs. Gregson to see you, miss.” I opened the door and let said visitor inside, myself stepping out into the hallway, yet remaining within earshot of any conversation.

“Oh, halloa, aged relative!” I heard Miss Wooster say, a trifle nervously. Evidently Mrs. Gregson had discovered her hiding place. “Spiffing day today, what? I fancy Angelo and I’ll try our hand at a bit of tennis, since it’s so pleasant. The snail on his whatsit and all that rot, eh?”

“Bertie, stop dithering. I need to speak with you on a matter of the utmost importance.”

“Oh, ah, really? That wouldn’t be anything to do with that cricket ball in the silver case, would it? Because that really wasn’t my fault, it was all Tuppy and she – “

“Bertie, do be quiet. This has nothing to do with any cricket balls.”

“What is it, then, Aunt A.?”

I heard a sigh. “Bertie, you are not to be seeing your bohemian friends any longer – “

“But Aunt A.!”

“ – that includes your friends,” there was a pause, as when one consults a list, “ ‘Ginger,’ ‘Bingo,’ and ‘Gussie,’ as well as any others from that club of yours.”

“But Gussie’s engaged to Matthias! And Bingo’s been engaged to at least five men this month!”

“I don’t care. Your relations with them have been exceedingly inappropriate for a young lady of your standing and I wish you to cut off all contact with them except when chaperoned.”

“Chaperoned?!” Miss Wooster cried. “But then I’ll have to miss the annual dart championship!”

“All the better, then. Young ladies throwing darts is unseemly.”

“But Aunt A.! Surely you don’t mean – “

“I do,” Mrs. Gregson said finally. “And if I hear that you have been going against my orders, I will be forced to move in with you and chaperone you myself until you learn some sense. Is that clear?”

There was another sigh, deeper this time. “Yes, Aunt A.”

“Good. I am doing this only for your benefit, Bertie. I trust you’ll remember that. Dahlia should be round with a list of young gentlemen we wish you to make the acquaintance of shortly. Do not make this more difficult than it already is.”

“Yes, Aunt A.”

I heard the sounds of Mrs. Gregson preparing to depart and I hastily removed myself from the immediate premises. The lady in question exited Miss Wooster’s room and went downstairs. After such a meeting, I expected Miss Wooster to require me and I was not mistaken; as soon as I had shut the door behind myself, she let the calm mask fall from her demeanor and grimaced most pitifully.

“Rosalyn,” she declared. “I’m ruined.”

“Indeed, miss?”

“Yes. Do you know what my Aunt Agatha came in here to say? She came in to tell me I’m ‘not allowed’ to be in the company of my chums – my female chums – without a chaperone! Have you ever heard such blithering nonsense in your life, Rosalyn? I say, this just about does it for me. I can stand being pushed around and spat on, but a Wooster has her limits! I can’t stand such an underhanded trick as this, Rosalyn, I simply can’t!”

“Indeed, miss.”

“I hope you’re not still mad at me about the hair, Rosalyn, because honestly that is the least of my concerns at present. I will keep these locks forever if only I may seek solace in the arms of mine own familiar friends! I have been betrayed by my own flesh and blood, Rosalyn! I’m like that chap who comes home from war only to find his wife’s gone and slept with the neighbor and then gets murdered for his trouble.”

“I believe you are referring to Agamemnon, miss, who after his return from the Trojan War found his wife Clytemnestra had been seduced by Aegisthus and then was murdered by Aegisthus and his companions.”

“Yes, Rosalyn, exactly. And now Aunt Dahlia’s going to bring me some list of suitors to court! Bah! What bally nonsense, Rosalyn, is what I say!”

“Indeed, miss.”

There came another knock upon Miss Wooster’s door. Miss Wooster groaned and placed her head in her hands. “Open it, Rosalyn, open it. If I must face my doom, face it I must! A Wooster does not shy away from danger.”

“Yes, miss. Mrs. Travers to see you, miss.”

“Bertie,” Mrs. Travers began in a beseeching tone. “I trust Agatha has been to see you?”

Miss Wooster simply uttered a groan.

“Yes, well, it had to happen at some point, you know, my dear. I have brought you a list of some young eligible bachelors and I want you to look over it.” Mrs. Travers attempted to hand Miss Wooster the list, but, finding that Miss Wooster’s hands were otherwise employed, set it beside Miss Wooster on the bed. “They’re all very sweet men, Bertie, and just the right type to help you settle down. I know it’s a big change but you’re strong, dear girl, and you’ll pull through all right.”

Miss Wooster gave a somewhat pained sigh. “But Aunt Dahlia,” she whinged, head still lowered. “Why must I lose all my friends? Can’t I still see them sometimes?”

“Not without a chaperone, my dear. I’m sorry, but it must be done. It will be better for you, this way,” Mrs. Travers added a trifle awkwardly.

Miss Wooster sighed again. Mrs. Travers rose and squared her shoulders.

“Enough of this pouting, Bertie. You’ll get over it soon enough. Just – come down and have some breakfast before you head out, why don’t you? Anatole has fried some wonderful sausage and I know how much you like it.”

Miss Wooster did not respond.

“Bertie, please,” Mrs. Travers grunted. “I need you to understand where I’m coming from. I’ve always looked on you rather like a daughter, you know, and – well, I simply can’t let you become a spinster, dear girl!”

Miss Wooster mumbled something.

“What did you say?”

“I said,” Miss Wooster repeated, raising her flushed and angry face from her hands. “‘What if I want to become a spinster?’”

Mrs. Travers huffed. “Then you’ll change your mind eventually. Come down and have something.”

Miss Wooster turned away ostentatiously.

“Very well. If you wish to mope, you may. But you can’t weasel your way out of this one, Bertie. You have to face it.”

Mrs. Travers departed. About two beats after she had closed the door after herself, Miss Wooster collapsed backwards upon the bed and moaned.

“Ruined!” she gasped. “My life is ruined, Rosalyn!”

[forlawfirmsonlymarketing]

Google My Business: FAQ for Multiple Businesses at the Same Address

How should I get listed in Google My Business if I’ve got multiple businesses at the same address? How many listings am I eligible for if I’m legitimately running more than one business at my location? What determines eligibility, and what penalties might I incur if I make a mistake? How should I name my businesses at the same address? The FAQs surrounding this single, big topic fill local SEO forums across the web, year after year. The guidelines for representing your business on Google contain most of the answers you’re seeking about co-located businesses, but sometimes they can err on the side of too little detail, leading to confusion. Today, Iet's quickly tackle the commonest FAQs that local business owners and marketers raise related to this scenario, and if you have further questions, please ask in the comments!

Q: I have more than one business at the same address. Can I have more than one Google My Business listing?

A: If you are legitimately operating multiple, legally distinct businesses, you can typically create a Google My Business listing for each of them. It’s not at all uncommon for more than one business to be located at a shared address. However, keep reading for further details and provisos.

Q: How do I know if my multiple businesses at the same address are distinct enough to be eligible for separate Google My Business listings?

A: If each brick-and-mortar business you operate is separately registered with appropriate state and federal agencies, has a unique TAX ID with which you file separate taxes, meets face-to-face with customers, and has a unique phone number, then it’s typically eligible for a distinct GMB listing. However, keep reading for more information.

Q: Can service area businesses list multiple businesses at the same address?

A: Google has historically treated SABs differently than brick-and-mortar businesses. While no official guideline forbids listing multiple SABs — like plumbers and locksmiths — at the same location, it’s not considered an industry best practice to do so. Google appears to be more active in issuing hard suspensions to SABs in this scenario, even if the businesses are legitimate and distinct. Because of this, it’s better strategy not to co-locate SABs.

Q: What would make me ineligible for more than one Google My Business listing at the same address?

A: If your businesses aren’t registered as legally distinct entities or if you lack unique phone numbers for them, you are ineligible to list them separately. Also, if your businesses are simply representative of different product lines or services you offer under the umbrella of a single business — like a handyman who repairs both water heaters and air conditioners — they aren’t eligible for separate listings. Additionally, do not list multiple businesses at PO boxes, virtual offices, mailboxes at remote locations, or at locations you don’t have the authority to represent.

Q: Will I be penalized if I list multiple ineligible businesses at the same address?

A: Yes, you could be. Google could issue a hard suspension on one or more of your ineligible listings at any time. A hard suspension means that Google has removed your listing and its associated reviews.

Q: Will suite numbers help me convince Google I actually have two locations so that I can have more than one GMB listing?

A: No. Google doesn’t pay attention to suite numbers, whether legitimate or created fictitiously. Don’t waste time attempting to make a single location appear like multiple locations by assigning different suite numbers to the entities in hopes of qualifying for multiple listings.

Q: Can I list my business at a co-working space, even though there are multiple businesses at the same address?

A: If your business has a unique, direct phone number answered by you and you are staffing the co-working space with your own staff at your listed hours, yes, you are typically eligible for a Google My Business listing. However, if any of the other businesses at the location share your categories or are competing for the same search terms, it is likely that you or your competitors will be filtered out of Google’s mapping product due to the shared elements.

Q: How many GMB listings can I have if there are multiple seasonal businesses at my address?

A: If your property hosts an organic fruit stand in summer and a Christmas tree farm in the winter, you need to closely follow Google’s requirements for seasonal businesses. In order for each entity to qualify for a listing, it must have year-round signage and set and then remove its GMB hours at the opening and closing of its season. Each entity should have a distinct name, phone number and Google categories.

Q: How should I name my multiple businesses at the same address?

A: To decrease the risk of filtering or penalties, co-located businesses must pay meticulous attention to allowed naming conventions. Questions surrounding this typically fall into five categories:

If one business is contained inside another, as in the case of a McDonald’s inside a Walmart, the Google My Business names should be “McDonald’s” and “Walmart” not “McDonalds in Walmart”.

If co-located brands like a Taco Bell and a Dunkin’ Donuts share the same location, they should not combine their brand names for the listing. They should either create a single listing with just one of the brand names, or, if the brands operate independently, a unique listing for each separate brand.

If multiple listings actually reflect eligible departments within a business — like the sales and parts departments of a Chevrolet dealership — then it’s correct to name the listings Chevrolet Sales Department and Chevrolet Parts Department. No penalties should result from the shared branding elements, so long as the different departments have some distinct words in their names, distinct phone numbers and distinct GMB categories.

If a brand sells another brand’s products — like Big-O selling Firestone Tires — don’t include the branding of the product being sold in the GMB business name. However, Google stipulates that if the business location is an authorized and fully dedicated seller of the branded product or service (sometimes known as a "franchisee"), you may use the underlying brand name when creating the listing, such as "TCC Verizon Wireless Premium Retailer.”

If an owner is starting out with several new businesses at the same location, it would be a best practice to keep their names distinct. For example, a person operating a pottery studio and a pet grooming station out of the same building can lessen the chance of filters, penalties, and other problems by avoiding naming conventions like “Rainbow Pottery” and “Rainbow Pet Grooming” at the same location.

Q: Can I create separate listings for classes, meetings, or events that share a location?

A: Unfortunately the guidelines on this topic lack definition. Google says not to create such listings for any location you don’t own or have the authority to represent. But even if you do own the building, the guidelines can lead to confusion. For example, a college can create separate listings for different departments on campus, but should not create a listing for every class being offered, even if the owners of the college do have authority to represent it. Another example would be a yoga instructor who teaches at three different locations. If the building owners give them permission to list themselves at the locations, along with other instructors, the guidelines appear to permit creating multiple listings of this kind. However, such activity could end up being perceived as spam, could be filtered out because of shared elements with other yoga classes at a location, and could end up competing with the building’s own listing. Because the guidelines are not terribly clear, there is some leeway in this regard. Use your discretion in creating such listings and view them as experimental in case Google should remove them at some point.

Q: How do I set GMB hours for co-located business features that serve different functions?

A: A limited number of business models have to worry about this issue of having two sets of hours for specific features of a business that exist on the same premises but serve unique purposes. For example, a gas station can have a convenience market that is open 6 AM to 10 PM, but pumps that operate 24 hours a day. Google sums up the shortlist for such scenarios this way, which I’ll quote verbatim:

Banks: Use lobby hours if possible. Otherwise, use drive-through hours. An ATM attached to a bank can use its own separate listing with its own, different hours.

Car dealerships: Use car sales hours. If hours for new car sales and pre-owned car sales differ, use the new sales hours.

Gas stations: Use the hours for your gas pumps.

Restaurants: Use the hours when diners can sit down and dine in your restaurant. Otherwise, use takeout hours. If neither of those is possible, use drive-through hours, or, as a last resort, delivery hours.

Storage facilities: Use office hours. Otherwise, use front gate hours.

Q: Could the details of my Google listing get mixed up with another business at my location?

A: Not long ago, local SEO blogs frequently documented cases of listing “conflation”. Details like similar or shared names, addresses or phone numbers could cause Google to merge two listings together, resulting in strange outcomes like the reviews for one company appearing on the listing of another. This buggy mayhem, thankfully, has died down to the extent that I haven’t seen a report of listing conflation in some years. However, it’s good to remember that errors like these made it clear that each business you operate should always have its own phone number, naming should be as unique as possible, and categories should always be carefully evaluated.

Q: Why is only one of my multiple businesses at the same location ranking in Google’s local results?

A: The commonest cause of this is that Google is filtering out all but one of your businesses from ranking because of listing element similarity. If you attempt to create multiple listings for businesses that share Google categories or are competing for the same keyword phrases at the same address, Google’s filters will typically make all but one of the entities invisible at the automatic zoom level of their mapping product. For this reason, creating multiple GMB listings for businesses that share categories or industries is not a best practice and should be avoided.

Q: My GMB listing is being filtered due to co-location. What should I do?

A: This topic has come to the fore especially since Google’s rollout of the Possum filter on Sept 1, 2016. Businesses at the same address (or even in the same neighborhood) that share a category and are competing for the same search phrases often have the disappointment of discovering that their GMB listing appears to be missing from the map while a co-located or nearby competitor ranks highly. Google’s effort to deliver diversity causes them to filter out companies that they deem too similar when they’re in close proximity to one another. If you find yourself currently in a scenario where you happen to be sharing a building with a competitor, and you’ve been puzzled as to why you seem invisible on Google’s maps, zoom in on the map and see if your listing suddenly appears. If it does, chances are, you’re experiencing filtering. If this is your predicament, you have a few options for addressing it. As a measure of last resort, you could relocate your company to a part of town where you don’t have to share a location and have no nearby competitors, but this would be an extreme solution. More practically speaking, you will need to audit your competitor, comparing their metrics to yours to discover why Google sees them as the stronger search result. From the results of your audit, you can create a strategy for surpassing your opponent so that Google decides it’s your business that deserves not to be filtered out.

Summing Up

There’s nothing wrong with multiple businesses sharing an address. Google’s local index is filled with businesses in this exact situation ranking just fine without fear of penalization. But the key to success and safety in this scenario is definitely in the details. Assessing eligibility, accurately and honestly representing your brand, adhering to guidelines and best practices, and working hard to beat the filters will stand you in good stead.

https://www.businesscreatorplus.com/google-my-business-faq-for-multiple-businesses-at-the-same-address/

[isearchgoood]

Google My Business: FAQ for Multiple Businesses at the Same Address

Posted by MiriamEllis

How should I get listed in Google My Business if I’ve got multiple businesses at the same address? How many listings am I eligible for if I’m legitimately running more than one business at my location? What determines eligibility, and what penalties might I incur if I make a mistake? How should I name my businesses at the same address?

The FAQs surrounding this single, big topic fill local SEO forums across the web, year after year.

The guidelines for representing your business on Google contain most of the answers you’re seeking about co-located businesses, but sometimes they can err on the side of too little detail, leading to confusion.

Today, Iet's quickly tackle the commonest FAQs that local business owners and marketers raise related to this scenario, and if you have further questions, please ask in the comments!

Q: I have more than one business at the same address. Can I have more than one Google My Business listing?

A: If you are legitimately operating multiple, legally distinct businesses, you can typically create a Google My Business listing for each of them. It’s not at all uncommon for more than one business to be located at a shared address. However, keep reading for further details and provisos.

Q: How do I know if my multiple businesses at the same address are distinct enough to be eligible for separate Google My Business listings?

A: If each brick-and-mortar business you operate is separately registered with appropriate state and federal agencies, has a unique TAX ID with which you file separate taxes, meets face-to-face with customers, and has a unique phone number, then it’s typically eligible for a distinct GMB listing. However, keep reading for more information.

Q: Can service area businesses list multiple businesses at the same address?

A: Google has historically treated SABs differently than brick-and-mortar businesses. While no official guideline forbids listing multiple SABs — like plumbers and locksmiths — at the same location, it’s not considered an industry best practice to do so. Google appears to be more active in issuing hard suspensions to SABs in this scenario, even if the businesses are legitimate and distinct. Because of this, it’s better strategy not to co-locate SABs.

Q: What would make me ineligible for more than one Google My Business listing at the same address?

A: If your businesses aren’t registered as legally distinct entities or if you lack unique phone numbers for them, you are ineligible to list them separately. Also, if your businesses are simply representative of different product lines or services you offer under the umbrella of a single business — like a handyman who repairs both water heaters and air conditioners — they aren’t eligible for separate listings. Additionally, do not list multiple businesses at PO boxes, virtual offices, mailboxes at remote locations, or at locations you don’t have the authority to represent.

Q: Will I be penalized if I list multiple ineligible businesses at the same address?

A: Yes, you could be. Google could issue a hard suspension on one or more of your ineligible listings at any time. A hard suspension means that Google has removed your listing and its associated reviews.

Q: Will suite numbers help me convince Google I actually have two locations so that I can have more than one GMB listing?

A: No. Google doesn’t pay attention to suite numbers, whether legitimate or created fictitiously. Don’t waste time attempting to make a single location appear like multiple locations by assigning different suite numbers to the entities in hopes of qualifying for multiple listings.

Q: Can I list my business at a co-working space, even though there are multiple businesses at the same address?

A: If your business has a unique, direct phone number answered by you and you are staffing the co-working space with your own staff at your listed hours, yes, you are typically eligible for a Google My Business listing. However, if any of the other businesses at the location share your categories or are competing for the same search terms, it is likely that you or your competitors will be filtered out of Google’s mapping product due to the shared elements.

Q: How many GMB listings can I have if there are multiple seasonal businesses at my address?

A: If your property hosts an organic fruit stand in summer and a Christmas tree farm in the winter, you need to closely follow Google’s requirements for seasonal businesses. In order for each entity to qualify for a listing, it must have year-round signage and set and then remove its GMB hours at the opening and closing of its season. Each entity should have a distinct name, phone number and Google categories.

Q: How should I name my multiple businesses at the same address?

A: To decrease the risk of filtering or penalties, co-located businesses must pay meticulous attention to allowed naming conventions. Questions surrounding this typically fall into five categories:

If one business is contained inside another, as in the case of a McDonald’s inside a Walmart, the Google My Business names should be “McDonald’s” and “Walmart” not “McDonalds in Walmart”.

If co-located brands like a Taco Bell and a Dunkin’ Donuts share the same location, they should not combine their brand names for the listing. They should either create a single listing with just one of the brand names, or, if the brands operate independently, a unique listing for each separate brand.

If multiple listings actually reflect eligible departments within a business — like the sales and parts departments of a Chevrolet dealership — then it’s correct to name the listings Chevrolet Sales Department and Chevrolet Parts Department. No penalties should result from the shared branding elements, so long as the different departments have some distinct words in their names, distinct phone numbers and distinct GMB categories.

If a brand sells another brand’s products — like Big-O selling Firestone Tires — don’t include the branding of the product being sold in the GMB business name. However, Google stipulates that if the business location is an authorized and fully dedicated seller of the branded product or service (sometimes known as a "franchisee"), you may use the underlying brand name when creating the listing, such as "TCC Verizon Wireless Premium Retailer.”

If an owner is starting out with several new businesses at the same location, it would be a best practice to keep their names distinct. For example, a person operating a pottery studio and a pet grooming station out of the same building can lessen the chance of filters, penalties, and other problems by avoiding naming conventions like “Rainbow Pottery” and “Rainbow Pet Grooming” at the same location.

Q: Can I create separate listings for classes, meetings, or events that share a location?

A: Unfortunately the guidelines on this topic lack definition. Google says not to create such listings for any location you don’t own or have the authority to represent. But even if you do own the building, the guidelines can lead to confusion. For example, a college can create separate listings for different departments on campus, but should not create a listing for every class being offered, even if the owners of the college do have authority to represent it.

Another example would be a yoga instructor who teaches at three different locations. If the building owners give them permission to list themselves at the locations, along with other instructors, the guidelines appear to permit creating multiple listings of this kind. However, such activity could end up being perceived as spam, could be filtered out because of shared elements with other yoga classes at a location, and could end up competing with the building’s own listing.

Because the guidelines are not terribly clear, there is some leeway in this regard. Use your discretion in creating such listings and view them as experimental in case Google should remove them at some point.

Q: How do I set GMB hours for co-located business features that serve different functions?

A: A limited number of business models have to worry about this issue of having two sets of hours for specific features of a business that exist on the same premises but serve unique purposes. For example, a gas station can have a convenience market that is open 6 AM to 10 PM, but pumps that operate 24 hours a day. Google sums up the shortlist for such scenarios this way, which I’ll quote verbatim:

Banks: Use lobby hours if possible. Otherwise, use drive-through hours. An ATM attached to a bank can use its own separate listing with its own, different hours.

Car dealerships: Use car sales hours. If hours for new car sales and pre-owned car sales differ, use the new sales hours.

Gas stations: Use the hours for your gas pumps.

Restaurants: Use the hours when diners can sit down and dine in your restaurant. Otherwise, use takeout hours. If neither of those is possible, use drive-through hours, or, as a last resort, delivery hours.

Storage facilities: Use office hours. Otherwise, use front gate hours.

Q: Could the details of my Google listing get mixed up with another business at my location?

A: Not long ago, local SEO blogs frequently documented cases of listing “conflation”. Details like similar or shared names, addresses or phone numbers could cause Google to merge two listings together, resulting in strange outcomes like the reviews for one company appearing on the listing of another. This buggy mayhem, thankfully, has died down to the extent that I haven’t seen a report of listing conflation in some years. However, it’s good to remember that errors like these made it clear that each business you operate should always have its own phone number, naming should be as unique as possible, and categories should always be carefully evaluated.

Q: Why is only one of my multiple businesses at the same location ranking in Google’s local results?

A: The commonest cause of this is that Google is filtering out all but one of your businesses from ranking because of listing element similarity. If you attempt to create multiple listings for businesses that share Google categories or are competing for the same keyword phrases at the same address, Google’s filters will typically make all but one of the entities invisible at the automatic zoom level of their mapping product. For this reason, creating multiple GMB listings for businesses that share categories or industries is not a best practice and should be avoided.

Q: My GMB listing is being filtered due to co-location. What should I do?

A: This topic has come to the fore especially since Google’s rollout of the Possum filter on Sept 1, 2016. Businesses at the same address (or even in the same neighborhood) that share a category and are competing for the same search phrases often have the disappointment of discovering that their GMB listing appears to be missing from the map while a co-located or nearby competitor ranks highly. Google’s effort to deliver diversity causes them to filter out companies that they deem too similar when they’re in close proximity to one another.

If you find yourself currently in a scenario where you happen to be sharing a building with a competitor, and you’ve been puzzled as to why you seem invisible on Google’s maps, zoom in on the map and see if your listing suddenly appears. If it does, chances are, you’re experiencing filtering.

If this is your predicament, you have a few options for addressing it. As a measure of last resort, you could relocate your company to a part of town where you don’t have to share a location and have no nearby competitors, but this would be an extreme solution. More practically speaking, you will need to audit your competitor, comparing their metrics to yours to discover why Google sees them as the stronger search result. From the results of your audit, you can create a strategy for surpassing your opponent so that Google decides it’s your business that deserves not to be filtered out.

Summing Up

There’s nothing wrong with multiple businesses sharing an address. Google’s local index is filled with businesses in this exact situation ranking just fine without fear of penalization. But the key to success and safety in this scenario is definitely in the details.

Assessing eligibility, accurately and honestly representing your brand, adhering to guidelines and best practices, and working hard to beat the filters will stand you in good stead.

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