#pr generally obsessing over boys

[depthnessingsweet]

.

[copajay]

how to write a love song

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

masterlist

taro has been heavy on my mind for the last 24 hours and i’ve always wanted to write a fake dating fic so here we are

summary: you have been a solo idol under SM for years now. unfortunately, you’ve seen a decline in your popularity in the last year. sm’s newest boy group, riize, on the other hand, is blowing up in korea and overseas. in an attempt to generate buzz around your upcoming album, your company sets you up in a PR relationship with riize’s shotaro. (not proofread)

date: 04/07/24

scenario themes: fake dating, idol!au, lowkey grumpy x sunshine lmao

idol: osaki shotaro of riize

concept: fluff, angst-ish

warnings: swearing

word count: 5.3k

"fucking hell." you curse to yourself, alone in your private studio. you were looking at the sales for your last mini album. this was the lowest number you've seen since your debut. flopping onto a chair, you opened up youtube to check your streams, then spotify, then naver, and so on and so forth.

you were beginning to become obsessive, looking to numbers for validation. you put your phone down, sighing. looking up at the wall in front of you, you were greeted with your debut poster.

you were so young, so passionate. you didn't care about streams or sales, you just wanted to share your art with the world. feeling a bit ungrateful, you began to gaslight yourself into feeling better: it's not like the figures were that low, and many artists would kill to have half of what you're complaining about.

it didn't work. you felt even more like shit. somewhere along the way you fell in love with stardom. you became used to high-end brand endorsements, sold-out stadiums, and paparazzi everywhere you go. life has changed a lot for you in the last year.

you got so caught up in everything that you haven't been able to produce as much music. and if you're being honest, the only music you have put out hasn't exactly been your best work.

you initially stood out since you were an idol who didn't dance or put on flashy performances but instead wrote and composed captivating songs with meaningful lyrics. this attracted the attention of a nation, and later on, you developed a global fanbase. a fanbase that is currently fighting for their lives to defend your shitty mini-album.

somewhere along the way, you lost your spark. your lyrics which used to be about raw emotion and life experiences now seemed out of touch and cliche. your instrumentals had so much care poured into them, with most of them containing your own playing of the guitar, piano, drums, and more. now, they were created electronically for the most part by multiple big-shot producers.

you followed the formula for success, so why weren't you reaping the benefits?

your phone screen lit up, notifying you of an email sent by your manager:

RE: Staff Meeting

Y/N,

The numbers aren't looking too good. We need another drop, and soon. We’re having a meeting and you can show us what you came up with so far. We brought in the PR team and they're going to share some ideas with us. The meeting's at 6, don't be late.

you glanced over at the clock. it was 4:44 p.m., which means you still have an hour and 16 minutes to come up with something to show your team.

no matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't come up with anything. it used to come so easy to you. your love songs in particular were always so easy to write, and guaranteed hits at that.

unfortunately for you, being in love is nearly impossible when you're a full-time idol. between hectic schedules and invasive fans, you can't find the time or place to catch feelings for someone.

before you knew it, it was 5:50 and all you had done was mope about how hard it is to make music. packing your belongings, you headed out of the studio and made your way to the SM company building.

once seated at the meeting, you were greeted by your manager and the PR professionals he invited. "so, y/n. we're looking forward to hearing about any progress you might have made for the album." your manager encouraged, smiling at you.

"i... don't have anything," you admitted. the room was dead silent and you were holding yourself back from cringing at your own words. "I was hoping we could maybe just look at a couple of demos?"

"y/n, that's what we did last time, and it clearly isn't appealing to the fans. they want your music. we need the finished album from you by next month." your manager stressed.

"i know, i know. i'm working on it." you muttered. clearing his throat, your manager looked to the PR team, "since there's no new music for us to listen to, i guess you guys can take it from here."

"right, thank you." an unnamed woman in glasses began, "we were thinking of creating a fabricated relationship between miss l/n and another idol here at SM. his group is having a comeback around the same time you are."

you were about to protest before she cut you off, "the relationship doesn't have to go on for long, just until you release new music. it'll generate buzz and people will be more likely to tune in if they think your songs are about him. just consider it." she pleaded.

"who is it?" you questioned, still apprehensive. "shotaro from riize. the group is still recovering after a member of theirs has gone on hiatus following a scandal free seunghan until it's backwards. the two of you are close in age and he's been an idol for a few years now so he's perfect." she persuaded. you saw your manager nod in agreement in the corner of your eye.

"isn't dating as an idol a scandal in itself?" you argued. "yes, but you would generate more good exposure than bad. fans online have been talking about how good of a couple you would make for a while now." your manager butted in.

great. so you're not only going to get death threats from delusional fans but also affirm crazed shippers' beliefs. as badly as you wanted out, you really did need more attention on you as you were preparing to come back. besides, any publicity is good publicity, right?

"fine." you agreed begrudgingly. "wonderful! shotaro has also agreed, we'll have another meeting tomorrow at 10 a.m. with the two of you to go over everything." the lady exclaimed, clasping her hands together excitedly.

smiling politely, you excused yourself and left the room. your manager rushed after you, stopping you from leaving the building. "y/n, listen. I know this is all probably really uncomfortable, but I think it'll be good for you." he insisted.

good for streams, maybe. "i'll be fine. it's only a month, right?" you smiled. "right." he affirmed, patting you on the back before walking in the opposite direction.

once he was out of sight your smile immediately dropped. you made your way out the doors of the building preparing yourself for the lonely commute home.

despite being surrounded by fans and paparazzi constantly, you felt pretty lonely most of your days. you rarely had time to see your friends and family, and you didn't have any group members to share the burden of loneliness with.

making your way to the parking lot, you bumped into an energetic figure, causing your keys to drop. the two of you bent down at the same time and your heads collided. stepping back, you looked up at the stranger that had just made your already shit day even shittier.

he picked up your keys first before standing straight and looking back at you. laughing, he handed them over to you, apologizing for the inconvenience.

to your surprise, it was shotaro. the man you had to act like you were in love starting tomorrow. he had incredibly soft features and the brownest, biggest eyes that you could get lost in forever.

"hey, I recognize you!" he chirped, "I was told you would be at the meeting tomorrow for..." he trailed off, the air between you suddenly awkward.

"yeah." you added dryly. "well it was nice meeting you." you pushed past him. "nice meeting you as well!" he called out, enthusiastically waving.

he's so sweet it's sickening.

maybe you're being a bit of a bitch, but your life feels like it's falling apart. stepping into your car, you took a moment to breathe before starting it and heading home.

the next morning, you wanted nothing more than to rot in bed, but your annoyingly loud alarm reminded you of your impending meeting with shotaro. you didn't see the harm in getting a few more minutes of beauty sleep so you hit the snooze button and drifted back off.

unfortunately, those few minutes turned into an hour, and the next thing you know, you had twenty minutes until your meeting. panicking, you rush to wash your face and get dressed, sprinting down the stairs of your apartment.

once you're seated in the car, you're greeted with a blaring sign: empty tank. just your luck. you have under 10 minutes to get to the SM building and it's a twenty-minute walk from your place.

you checked the bus schedules frantically but none of them seemed to come in time. mentally cursing yourself, you began running in the direction of the company building.

there was no way you were going to make it in time. but this was better than nothing. after about 5 minutes of sprinting like your life depended on it, you saw a familiar face in a car waiting at a stoplight: shotaro.

you don't know how you managed to bump into him yet again but you couldn't really afford to care at this moment. knocking on the window lightly, you saw him look at you shocked.

he rolled down his window, "are you okay?" he asked, slightly freaked out. "i'm so sorry i promise i'll explain but could you please let me in because the light is about to turn green." you begged.

he stared at you shocked for a few seconds before you practically yelled at him to let you in. unlocking the doors, he watched you jump in. he definitely thought you were crazy.

and you couldn't blame him either. looking in the window, you saw your reflection for the first time since you left home: sweat beading on your forehead from running and your hair frizzy and half out of your bun.

while putting together your appearance as best as you could, he coughed loudly, "you said you were going to explain...?" he cautioned.

"right. I slept through my alarm, my car ran out of gas, and I was planning on booking it for the interview since there were no buses available either. oh, and sorry again for scaring you." you rattled on.

you expected him to react like most people if put in this situation: slightly annoyed but accepting of the situation.

he simply laughed. "well then I'm glad you ran into me!" he cheered with a genuine smile on his face. what the hell was his problem?

you knew idols would put on cheery, cute personas for the camera, but you never met someone so honestly enthusiastic. you would be lying if you said it wasn't refreshing, but it felt too good to be true.

you arrived at the building within a matter of minutes. "thank you, once again." you turned to shotaro once the two of you reached the elevator. "no worries." he smiled.

you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t extremely handsome, and his kind demeanor made him even more attractive.

you caught yourself staring at him intensely, suddenly feeling nervous in the cramped elevator alone with him.

he kept trying to make conversation but you were completely zoned out, only being able to focus on how good he looked in his oversized black sweater.

your eyes kept nervously flitting between him and the elevator door, and you were beginning to sweat. has he always been this hot?

after what felt like an eternity, the elevator door opened and you practically sprinted out, making a beeline for the conference room. never have you been more relieved to see a room full of PR professionals.

you and shotaro sat down a safe distance away from each other. you’re not sure what overcame you in the elevator.

you haven’t had any romance in your life for so long that every little thing gets you flustered, including being alone in a small space with a good looking man.

“thank you both for coming today.” the same woman from yesterday greeted. “if you don’t mind, we’d like to walk you through the month-long plan of your ‘relationship’” she shared, using quotation marks.

“firstly, we want the two of you to be spotted out together. going to cafe’s, the movies, even just for a walk. hold hands, hug, kiss if you feel like it.” you couldn’t help but look at shotaro for the last bit and you were shocked to see he was already looking at you.

“we’ll call on paparazzi and companies like dispatch to ‘catch you in the act’ and post your photos online for people to catch on.” she continued, nodding at a man next to her.

“then we’re going to make an official announcement on behalf of the company that you two are officially dating. you know, ‘the pair are getting to know each other and we would appreciate your privacy bla bla bla’” the man said, far less professionally.

“right. you two will continue your outings for another week or so after and then you come back, and we will make a statement on behalf of the company that you have broken up to focus on your schedules. how does that sound?” the lady wrapped up.

“sounds good to me.” shotaro replied coolly. “yeah, um, sounds good.” you sputtered, a bit overwhelmed.

suddenly, you heard a loud ping on the woman’s phone. she looked down and looked up again between you and shotaro, “well, it looks like you two have already set the plan into motion.” she chuckled.

looking closer at her phone, you saw an online article showing pictures from just an hour ago of you in shotaro’s car titled “y/n and shotaro: potential lovebirds?”

what the hell? how did those photos get out so fast… and when were they even taken?

although you were growing increasingly anxious about your lack of privacy, you had to admit the PR team knew what they were talking about, people were going insane over the article.

“since you’ve already been spotted together today, you might as well go on a ‘date’ later in the afternoon to seal the deal.” an older man opposite you added in air quotes.

you and shotaro simply nodded in agreement and before you knew it, the meeting was coming to a close.

grabbing your bag, you prepared to speed-walk out of the room and avoid shotaro until your inevitable ‘date’ but he seemed to have other plans.

“wait up, y/n!” he hollered, catching up to you. “i know we’re kind of being forced to hang out, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy each other’s company!” he began, “what’s your favorite coffee shop? mine’s-”

“look i appreciate you trying to make light of the situation, but this is just a marketing strategy, nothing more and nothing less.” you cut him off, “let’s just go to the bakery across the street, make lovey dovey eyes at each other, and go our separate ways, yeah?”

his smile faded a bit which made you feel guilty, but he recovered quickly and nodded, following you out the company building.

once you arrived at the bakery, you tried to seem as interested as possible in whatever shotaro was talking about, but your brain was still foggy from the hectic morning you had.

“anyways, what about you?” the singer excitedly asked, “…what about me?” you repeated through gritted teeth, forcing a smile in case any cameras were on you.

“i was asking if you started preparing for your new album.” he smiled. “oh. um, yeah.” you shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

“you know i’m a big fan of your music,” shotaro started, “i loved your debut album, i listen to at least one song from it every day.” he shared shyly.

well great. now you felt even more bad for being so unnecessarily rude to him. softening your demeanor, you replied with “thanks… i really liked ‘get a guitar’, too.”

his eyes lit up upon you mentioning his track, which you took as a sign to continue, “but i can never get the dance quite right.” you added, grinning.

“i can always teach you!” he beamed.

“that would be nice-”

“oh my GOD, is that shotaro?” a stranger gasped, causing both your and shotaro’s heads to snap in opposite directions.

even though you were technically trying to get caught, old idol habits die hard. dating scandals are every idol’s biggest fear: an entire dedicated fanbase turning on you just for experiencing romance? true nightmare fuel.

“and i think that’s y/n with him! why are they here together?” another stranger spoke up. you and shotaro swiftly picked up your belongings and left, worried you’d attract more attention.

“i’ll-um-see you, bye.” you mumbled with your head down as shotaro gave you a small thumbs up underneath the table.

the two of you set off in different directions and you began dreading the long walk home. you were wearing a mask and a beanie, which meant your chances of getting recognized were pretty low, but they definitely weren’t zero.

however, you loved walking through seoul, especially this time of year. the weather was nice, and the streets were bustling. you used to love brainstorming song lyrics and melodies during walks.

deciding to take advantage of your situation, you racked your brain for any potential lyrics.

nothing.

how could you have lost all your creativity? did your songwriting talent just disappear? how would you get it back?

doubts filled your mind as you realized you were already halfway home and failed to come up with a single verse.

maybe you were lacking inspiration. your life was filled with romantic endeavors prior to your debut, which filled your mind with several ideas for new songs.

but you seemed to have forgotten all of them, and as cheesy as it sounds, you might have forgotten how it feels to be in love as well.

nearing your apartment, you felt a vibration in your pocket. taking out your phone, you opened up an email from your manager:

Re: Dating News

Hello Y/N,

Seems like your bakery date is already going viral on SNS. A pair of fans spotted you two and uploaded a photo of you sitting at a table together. Keep up the good work.

[1 Attachment]

clicking on the attachment, you saw a screenshot of a tweet exclaiming ‘RIIZE SHOTARO AND Y/N L/N ON A DATE???’ with a picture of the two of you smiling and sitting across from each other at a table.

it freaked you out how happy the two of you looked in the photo, almost like a real couple.

shutting off your phone, you couldn’t help but smile as you entered your apartment, maybe shotaro was starting to grow on you.

in the next few weeks, you and shotaro would go on several public outings, getting spotted almost immediately.

before you knew it the two of you were the hottest topic in k-pop, headlining several media outlet articles and trending on social media.

you would periodically receive correspondence from your manager and PR team praising you for how well you were pulling the stunt off.

although you wouldn’t admit it, you were really starting to enjoy shotaro’s company as well. the two of you began texting until late hours at night and planning ‘dates’ without instruction from your team.

you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to feel a bit attached to him but you reminded yourself that this was simply a work thing. besides, it’s not like he’s interested anyway… right?

you couldn’t read shotaro at all. he always had a sweet smile plastered on his face and seemed excited about everything and anything.

weirdly, you felt your writing ability start to come back slowly as well.. but it obviously has nothing to do with shotaro!

it’s just a coincidence that you draw on your memories of him to come up with lyrics; that you describe his mannerisms to a T in your potential choruses and scribble about how he makes you feel in your notebook on your off-days.

yup! definitely just a coincidence.

“y’know i used to love these growing up,” shotaro shared as the two of you stood at a street food stall indulging in dango.

“you must miss japan a lot, huh?” you asked, staring at the side of his face. his expression faltered slightly.

“of course i do, but i’m glad i chased after my dreams. it sounds cliché but it paid off. i get to do what i love, even if i’m hundreds of miles away from home.” he replied softly.

you don’t know what it was, but in that moment you wanted nothing more than to kiss him. you stared at his lips for a few moments before he caught on.

“do i have something on my face..?” he questioned, raising a finger to wipe his mouth.

you leaned in, centimeters away from touching your lips with his when he stepped back.

shit. way to go, y/n.

“sorry, i just- i don’t think we should…” he stammered,

“no, i’m sorry. i don’t know what came over me. we-i should go.” you said awkwardly, biting your lip.

you headed off before he could reply, mentally cursing at the world and wanting to crawl into a hole and die.

how could you let your guard down like that and embarrass yourself?

that night, you didn’t receive a single text from him like you usually do, so you tried reaching out.

no response.

every time you contacted him afterwards or tried to set up another ‘date’ he would flake last minute or respond dryly until he full-on ghosted you.

you stopped heading out together and your manager seemed content with it as you had already generated enough anticipation for your comeback.

the next time you saw him would be at a company meeting, discussing the end of your ‘relationship’.

you zoned out the entire meeting, barely hearing anything coming out of anyone’s mouth. you focused on trying not to look at shotaro and keeping your thoughts preoccupied so you felt less embarrassed just being in his presence.

your manager briefed you on the contents of the meeting afterwards, sharing that all you had to do was release a joint statement that confirmed you were now broken up.

“it’s easy enough, you mostly leave it to the social media managers. just send them your virtual signature and be sure to post it on your instagram as soon as possible. got it?” the man asked.

you nodded wordlessly with your head still in the clouds. for the first time in a long time your mind was filled with new ideas for lyrics, ranging from lovestruck to heartbroken to enraged.

you opted to walk home that day, even taking the longer route, furiously typing in your notes app and recording several voice notes on the way. you must’ve looked insane to everyone else around you but you didn’t care.

if you couldn’t get your mind off shotaro, you’d at least make it work in your favor. that night, you wrote an impressive 10 drafts of different songs, staying up until late and getting up early the next morning to head to the studio.

you drowned yourself in your work, hoping you’d forget about the boy whose presence was still all around you in both your thoughts and lyrics.

eventually, you refined and recorded all 10 songs, ready to release them in your new album.

shortly before your album announcement, you posted your official ‘breakup’ statement, feeling empty as you tapped on your screen.

you never would’ve predicted the somewhat annoying and yet incredibly charming guy that you were forced into a relationship with would haunt you this much.

you even found yourself looking through old posts and articles about the two of you, reminiscing on your time as a fake couple.

it stung knowing it was completely one-sided, and it stung even more knowing you could’ve still had him as a friend if you didn’t stupidly act on impulse.

you saw him here and there entering and leaving the SM building and the two of you would share a polite smile and bow before rushing off.

the response to your breakup announcement was unprecedented, and the amount of people heartbroken for the both of you took you by surprise.

riizeandrealize: ‘love isn’t real after all 💔💔’

y/n4eva: ‘at least we know the new album is gonna hit’

y/ntaro: ‘NOOO MY PARENTS’

tarosho28: ‘awww… so that means shotaro’s single again? 😁’

scrolling through the comments absentmindedly, one in specific caught your attention:

user1129399: ‘she always seemed more into him than he did. he’s probably the one that broke it off’

you felt hot with rage, what does a stupid netizen on the internet know? and why is their comment making you so upset?

maybe because they were partially right. you obviously were more into him or he would’ve been more receptive to your humiliating attempt at a kiss.

your album was set to come out in a week and you had a set track list recorded and ready.

and yet, you felt compelled to add one more song.

you went to work immediately, writing so fast your words were barely legible but you could read it perfectly fine.

you wrote as intensely and specifically as you could about everything—from your first encounter to your last. you tried to keep your other songs vague enough to avoid any suspicion on shotaro’s part about the subject of the lyrics, but you didn’t care anymore.

you were in love with osaki shotaro and you needed to express it in the only way you know how.

“are you insane?” your manager’s voice boomed over the line.

“it’s already recorded, and i have the backing vocals done too. i just need one more day to get the production team together and it’ll be done and ready to add to the album.” you pleaded.

“fine.” he sighed, “this better be worth it.”

“it will be.” at this point you weren’t sure if you were assuring him or yourself.

this was your most personal and emotional piece of work yet, and you were worried shitless about what response it would receive.

luckily for you, it did amazing on the charts and with your fans. in fact, your fanbase almost doubled in size and you were experiencing even more success than you were already.

unluckily for you, you still felt like shit.

your life felt empty without shotaro in it and no amount of fans, cameras, or praise could fill that void.

as you were preparing to go out onto stage for a music show, you ran into a familiar figure heading out of the green room.

of course it was none other than the one person you have been thinking about nonstop for the past month, wrote an entire album about, and the same guy who probably cringes every time he hears it play on the radio.

you gave him a polite smile before rushing towards the hair and makeup room.

“wait. y/n, can we talk real quick?” he began nervously.

fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfu-

“y/n?” he repeated, snapping you back to reality.

“yes. of course.” you responded, trying to sound as collected as possible.

“i-uh listened to your new album. it’s amazing. i loved track 11 the most.” he smiled softly, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

of course you liked that track, it’s obviously about you.

“thanks! is that all?” you rushed, preparing to sprint away at any moment.

“no! honestly, i wanted to apologize for the way things ended.” he confessed,

you knew how this was going to end. he was going to give you some bullshit excuse for ghosting you instead of just telling you he wasn’t interested and waste 5 minutes of your time.

but you don’t have 5 minutes to waste. you need to get up on stage and sing about how bad he hurt you.

pathetic, but at least you’re self aware.

“save it. i know you don’t feel the same way and that’s fine. but you could’ve at least told me. you didn’t have to shut me out, I thought we were friends at the very least.” you exploded, suddenly feeling a burst of adrenaline.

“but y/n-”

“and i’m not in the mood for excuses. you had a month to think of a good excuse but i guess there just isn’t one. you know i just hope you can take this experience and learn to never do this to some other girl because-”

“y/n you’re not listening to me.”

“why should i? you didn’t bother listening to me when i called you all those times. and about track 11, yes it’s about you. the whole fucking album is about you and i bet you already knew that-”

your petty rant was cut short when you felt something press gently against your lips… but he definitely wasn’t kissing you.

oh my god. did he just physically shush me? he carefully removed his finger from it’s place in front of your now-closed lips.

“did you just shush me?! have you lost your damn mind-” you began again,

“y/n!” he practically yelled, now gaining the attention from several staff members.

“i know what i did was shitty and I’m sorry. you’re right, i shouldn’t have ghosted you. but it’s not because i didn’t feel the same way. i’ve loved you for a while now.”

your jaw dropped, along with several eavesdropper’s jaws throughout the now dead-silent hallway.

“i was scared that you didn’t see me in that way but when i found out that you did… i panicked. i was too scared to tell you how i felt and i know i’m an idiot for it.” he looked down. “i’m not going to beg you to take me back or anything, but can we at least go back to the way we were? friends?”

“y/n, you need to get to hair and makeup NOW! you’re running out of time before your performance!” a staff member called out before you could respond, dragging you away.

well great. now you have to pretend everything’s alright and sing a little song on stage when your whole world has been flipped upside down.

as you sat in the makeup chair, you pondered over what would happen if you did agree to start over with shotaro, would you be happy?

before you knew it, you were on stage facing a crowd full of people staring right at you. you usually wouldn’t mind, you’re an idol after all. but the whole situation was just overstimulating you.

luckily the backtrack began playing before you could overthink and you were able to escape from reality for a few minutes to sing and perform.

you missed this feeling. you missed staying up writing, listening proudly to your new music you poured your heart into, and giving your all on stage every performance.

at the end of your song, the crowd erupted into cheers. you looked onto all the banners with your name and face plastered onto them gratefully.

whether you liked it or not, shotaro brought your spark back. yes it caused you immense pain and suffering, but it also gave you moments of joy, including the one you were experiencing right now.

once you wrapped up, you headed backstage, surprised to see shotaro standing by the monitor. was he watching your performance?

“i made up my mind.” you announced, walking up to him.

“are you sure you don’t need more time?” he asked, nervous.

“you’re a dumbass for what you did,” you started, noting how his face fell, “but i’d be an even bigger dumbass to pretend i don’t want to be with you.”

the contagious smile you’re used to seeing slowly reappeared on his face, causing you to slowly smile as well before you quickly corrected yourself.

“but… i want a proper apology. maybe you could give me one at the bakery tomorrow morning?” you mused.

“it’s a date.” he responded warmly.

[piratefishmama]

Crossing the Line | Part 2

For Eddie Munson, it started with a tweet. A random little tweet in his mentions that ignited his incredibly hard to control impulsive curiosity. One of his long-time followers and his best friends little brother, a boy with a love of DnD who only begrudgingly followed him after he recorded one of his campaign sessions and posted it to YouTube, pinged him a mention with a single link in it to Instagram captioned “roast him he’s ruined Crazy Train!”

Michael Wheeler you little shit. He’d get Nancy on that one, Mike’s obsession with roasting people was getting mildly out of hand.

But Eddie was a curious soul and someone had apparently ruined an Ozzy masterpiece, so of course he followed that link, he didn’t even hesitate, even let out a cute little “boop” out loud as he clicked it.

Now. Eddie Munson, could have probably been classed as a bit of a music snob. He wouldn’t go too far with his snobbery, but for some people... it was just an unwritten rule that some people deserved the snobbery to the max. They deserved the shit storm that came with Eddie’s brutal honesty and lack of verbal filter.

And Nepo-babies with nothing better to do than *fix* legendary metal tracks with their top 10 bubblegum bitch bullshittery were 100% deserving of the roasting his bitchiest of little sheep had called for.

Did he go a little overboard over the following week while bored shitless in between customers at his shitty non-chain coffee shop gig? Absolutely. Did he feel bad? Absolutely not. It’d taken him all of five minutes to decide Steve Harrington was the worst.

Even if the nepo baby thing wasn’t enough, he was spotted with a different piece of arm candy every month, he had girls and guys falling all over themselves to get a glimpse from him in their general direction, like, there were articles about fights breaking out in the audience of his shows because fans couldn’t decide which one of them he looked at. He lived in some fancy ass house if his insta photos were anything to go by which no doubt his parents bought for him, he did way too many PR stunts to make it seem like he was a good guy, and while his voice was… okay, it wasn’t bad… passable, it was passable…

It sure as fuck needed to stay in its own goddamn lane.

So, the boredom in between the rare rush thanks to the Starbucks down the street was filled with what could only be described as obsessive online bullying, his ADHD hyper fixated so hard, but no way was he even going to notice it, so Eddie didn’t even feel bad about it. The guy had so many people falling all over themselves in hopes he’d notice them that his measly little insults would probably wind up just buried in the sea of hormones and the occasional desperate “COME TO BRAZIL” hashtag Brazilian flag and several thousand heart emojis.

And just as a fun little topper on the ice cream sundae that was his weeklong bitchfit into the void, a lovely little cherry on top, he covered Crazy Train on his channel. Not just the guitar bits, but he made chords and tabs for the lyrics too, letting his sweetheart sing for him, he never sang on his channel, vocals were just for the band gigs, his channel was primarily game music covers but this one, this one he declared “This is what it’s supposed to sound like” in the intro then rocked it.

Eddie was all about freedom of musical expression, but Steve Harrington could go suck a fat one if he thought he was getting away with ruining a masterpiece with his croony bullshit.

“So” The week after he’d finally put his one sided feud to rest, found one Nancy Wheeler, the instigators older sister sidling up to the counter mid-way through the most boring Sunday shift Eddie had ever worked in his life.

“Wheeleeerr, my sister from the most boring of misters, what can I get you babydoll?” He didn’t even need to ask, and she didn’t actually need to say it, he was already halfway through making her fancy little favourite, a cinnamon hazelnut latte with soy milk knowing she probably only had five minutes before she’d have to bolt again.

“Eddie… why have you spent the better part of a week harassing a celebrity on Instagram?”

“I think you mean an entire week, your little brother released the dogs of war. Aaaand the ADHD told me to do it.” He grabbed one of the little honey buns from the treats display and popped it onto a plate for her “forgive me honey bun?” A pet name AND a treat combined. She rolled her eyes fondly before accepting the free treat. “Why do you ask?”

“No reason.” There was absolutely a reason, but… honestly he brought whatever was coming to him upon himself. Sort of. She'd stand in his corner if shit got real. “I’ll handle Mike, don’t harass celebrities until you’re actually a celebrity, and even then, don’t harass celebrities.”

“It’s not like he’d notice, let’s be honest he has more fans than there are stars in the sky, all of them, and I do mean all of them, fully up for bearing his children.” Seahorse dads in the house! But also, mpreg too, ass babies unite. “It’s not like some rando having a questionably obsessive and lowkey aggressive meltdown over his ‘I’m bored as shit’ experiment would ever grace his radar.”

“I’m just saying Eddie, you never know who you’re going to reach with your online nonsense, if you ever want to get out of this place, you’re going to have to play nice with people from all walks of life, including nepotism babies.” The bark of laughter that erupted from Eddie Munson would have probably insulted most people, but Nancy had known him for years. He was listening, he was, there were just layers upon layers of automatic reactions to get through before he’d visibly take in what you were saying. “He could be nice, you never know.”

“Oh yeah, his royal highness seems lovely. Did you know people used to call him King Steve?” Seemed like the worst person on the planet masquerading as a semi-decent guy. Eddie wasn’t fooled in the slightest. “Your drink, mademoiselle!” He presented her with a large to-go cup filled with her favourite beverage.

“Don’t you have some odd little moniker on your youtube channel?” She asked behind the lip of her cup, before taking a sip and humming in appreciation. Even if he was a little shit, Eddie could make a mean latte.

“That’s a persona, it’s an online personality! People calling me Kas is different, people just called him that cause of how much ass he got. It’s weird, I bet he started it himself and paid his cronies to use it until it caught on.” That was good, maybe he’d pick his feud back up just to lay that one on him. “Seems very nepo baby of him, y’know? Can’t get a good nickname circling so he’s gotta buy one.”

“Wouldn’t his parents have bought it for him?”

“Ohhhh Wheeler good one! Nice nickname, did your daddy buy it for you? Babe, sugar plum, I love you. Imma write that one down for later.”

“Please don’t.” He was already off, and she caught sight of her smartwatch beeping about some meeting she was close to being late for. “Shoot! Gotta run, no more harassing celebrities!”

“I promise nothing!” Ah well, it probably wasn’t that big of a deal that Steve Harrington’s best friend had DM’d her, probably not a big deal at all, probably meant nothing... probably.

Part 4

[a--a---a]

tell me what you thought about season 3 of bridgerton. I also had really mixed feelings about the Michaela/Michael thing (like the last person) but overall the season was really okay for me. it felt like the PR was more than we got but otherwise I liked most it. i could have done without the Mondrich storyline and the 8 Benedict sex scenes but it was good.

I agree: The season was generally good. I liked it and have watched it several times now. (That is 90% my Nicola Coughlan obsession speaking, but nonetheless.)

Things that I thought were OUTSTANDING:

Agatha/Violet scenes - I fucking love them. Agatha is my fav character in the whole show, and that friendship is amazing. I am an Agatha, Charlotte, and Penelope girly as my top 3.

That scene outside of Genevieve's ("What good am I to you?") because fuck yes, Penelope. - Put that man in his place. Sometimes your only need for a man is to want him there because you love him.

Colin crying - 'nuff said.

Kanthony - there could have been more, but I understand.

Francesca & John - so relatable. I know you talked about Michaela being contentious, but I am excited for her. Again, I didn't read the books. I just want wlw. I loved John's interactions with the boys.

"You Belong With Me" for their wedding dance??? It's THEIR SONG, and I was so happy about it!

Lord Anderson - I am looking forward to him and Violet "gardening" in s4.

the Featheringtons and their character growth.

Nicola Coughlan's perfect breasts. 🥵😍

Things I DID NOT LIKE/WANTED MORE OF:

Not enough Polin scenes. Just in general there were not enough. Spicy would have been fine, but I am in the same camp as many that say they wanted more happy married life before the baby was born.

Colin accusing Penelope of trapping him and then never apologizing for it.

Colin telling Penelope she "has no say" in how the LW blackmail thing got handled. Like 🛑. You are JUST a man, Colin.

Luke Newton's wig for the wedding specifically (but it made other appearances).

Pen's wedding dress could have been more fairytale (but I do love how it highlighted her complexion, etc.).

Not enough Lord Debling/he didn't go with Cressida. I know she was the pt 2 villain, but like...he will be gone for three years.

Eloise was incredibly annoying without Pen. I didn't realize how Pen changed her and maybe softened her in ways. Her without that person to maybe not tame but guide her really showed that.

Too much Mondrichs. I think it would be cool if their son fell in love with Hyacinth and it was another friends to lovers we got to see evolve over time, but besides the ball and finally giving up the club, I feel like maybe 3 scenes in total would have been fine.

Too many Benedict sex scenes. The last was my fav by far, but for the most part they were fillers and didn't drive the plot. If they did it would have been different.

There's probably more, but that's all I've got.

I do think this is my favorite season yet because of Penelope, but there could have been changes. I hope they drop those deleted scenes, but even if they don't i am pretty satisfied with what we got. 💛

[thisismysecondrodeo]

here’s a request if you have time: ted giving y/n a massage?

AN: @tedssweaters wrote a lovely little massage blurb that everyone should go read. I already had this request in my queue and of course, I went in a different (read: horny) direction lol s/o to @jarfishy for the encouragement to finish this one early 😛 two fics in one day, who am I?!

Rating: Explicit

Tags: AFAB!reader, One-Shot, Sports injury turned very sexy, Smut, Porn with barely any plot, facefucking, fingerfucking, General sexy things

Fic masterlist

-

You had been obsessed with football since you were little, your older brothers happily taught you every trick they knew while they dribbled circles around you until you were old enough to start playing against girls your own age. You had long since hung up your football dreams, though, focusing on a career in PR instead. But since you started working for AFC Richmond—and dating the head coach—you couldn’t help but want to get back on the pitch again.

Over happy hour one night you told the team how much you missed playing and they all tried to get you into a drunken round of footie on the Richmond Green, absolutely gutted when they couldn’t procure a football and the coaches told them it was too dark and they were too not-sober. But after that, the boys would occasionally drop by your office on a light practice day to invite you out and you started keeping some extra athletic clothes and boots under your desk.

“You sure it's okay,” you asked Ted each time you went to step out on the pitch, trying not to linger. Though your relationship had started completely unrelated to your employment, neither of you wanted anyone to get the wrong impression. The only people that were aware you were together were Rebecca and HR…and Keeley after that one time she had come back for something in her old desk and caught the two of you….indisposed. You had to admit the sneaking around was a little sexy, but it was a bummer in times like this when you wanted to drop a kiss on his cheek after he said, “of course! Go show those boys what-for.”

You were getting into the rhythms of playing, your lungs burning with exertion and a grin cemented to your face as you darted around. You raised a hand to Dani with a call of, “oi!” and sprinted to the ball to set yourself up for a corner kick. It felt good to score, even though you knew the boys let you have that one—granted they’d been out there for hours and you were fresh from your desk, no one could blame them for being a little slow.

You were taking the ball down the field when Sam called for a pass and you looked up for him just as O’Brien went for a slide tackle and you went down hard, with a pained grunt. Ted was hovering over you in an instant, you didn’t even know how he’d moved that quickly, and you rolled off of O’Brien and onto your stomach with a laugh.

“Jeez, I’m so sorry, you alright Y/N,” O’Brien asked with genuine remorse as he sat up on his knees, Ted right next to him his brow furrowed in concern.

“It was fair play, I’m perfectly fine Tommy Boy. Don’t apologize for that,” You went to get up but Ted stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t move yet, we should get you checked out,” Ted said and you looked at him like he was crazy.

“Ted, I’m fine. I’m a human woman, not a paper doll,” you laughed and Ted chuckled with you. “Just help me up, why don’t you?”

Ted held out a hand and you let him take most of your weight as you clambered up, took a step, and…shit that hurt. Not the worst you’d felt, but your thigh was cripplingly tight. You must have pulled your hamstring when you went down. Ted saw you grimace and his voice was frantic when he asked, “Woah now, what hurts?”

“Mmmf,” you grunted, “s’okay, just pulled my hamstring.” You gestured to your left leg and Ted’s hands were on you, squeezing with a pleasure-pain that made you groan as you braced yourself on his shoulder, not realizing how inappropriate this might seem to the players still gathered around. Coach Beard loudly and pointedly cleared his throat but it was too late.

“Coach, why don’t you work my hamstrings out like that, huh,” Jamie called out, his tongue sticking out of his mouth. Roy shoulder-checked him but even he smirked. Ted blushed and removed his hands immediately. You needed to get him out of here before he started apologizing and making things worse.

“Where were you when I tore my butt,” O’Brien teased and all the players laughed at that. Ted opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly cut him off.

“Ha ha,” you stuck your tongue out at Jamie and O’Brien mockingly, “come on, Coach, help me to the treatment room?” You wrapped an arm around Ted’s shoulders, your hurt leg in between so you could use him as a crutch as you limped off the pitch. He wrapped a hand around your waist to support you, being sure to keep his hand higher than necessary.

As soon as the treatment door clicked shut behind you, Ted had you wrapped tightly in his arms as if he had found you on the pitch half-dead. Thank god the actual trainer was out for the afternoon otherwise there was no way the two of you could explain this one away as platonic concern. You chuckled a little but let him hold you, his hands gripping your t-shirt as he took deep, soothing breaths.

“Ted?”

He didn’t respond but you could feel his fingers release just a smidge.

“Teddy, I’m alright sweetheart,” you whispered with light amusement and Ted sighed and let you go.

“I know, I know you just…gave me a bit of a fright seein’ you take a tumble like that. And I’m embarrassed on top of that for not keepin’ my hands to myself and almost blowing our cover. I should have told the boys to take it easy—”

“Woah, now, none of that,” you chastised, hobbling over to sit on a treatment table. “I may not have ever been a professional athlete, but I was an athlete. I know what it’s like to be knocked down, I know the symptoms of a concussion. Hell, have I told you my front incisor is an implant? Mum was pissed after that game.” You chuckled and looked over at Ted who was wincing. “Ah, come on now darling. You see people get hurt all the time. Scrapes and bruises are little badges of hon—”

“Not you,” Ted said, his voice tight and his hands fisted in his pockets. “I don’t see you get hurt all the time. It’s not because you’re a woman or because you’re not a professional or because I don’t think you can handle yourself, I just…I love you. And I don’t want to see the person I love in pain.”

Ted had never told you he loved you before and your eyes shot to his face, searching for any indication that he didn’t mean it, that he regretted saying it. But all you saw was the vulnerability of him offering his heart on a platter. You reached a hand out towards him and he stepped closer, allowing you to tug one of his fists from the pocket of his khakis.

“I love you too, Ted Lasso,” you whispered, holding his gaze as you leaned in and he met you halfway. It was easy to forget where you were and why when he kissed you like that, but when you shifted to widen your legs so he could step between them, the tug in your thigh reminded you and you grunted into his mouth, which was not the sexy sound he’d been anticipating.

“As much as I’m loving this very sexy turn of events, do you think you could get me an ice pack?”

Ted jumped into action with a smile and you slid off the table to remove your shorts so they wouldn’t get in the way, before leaning over and locking the door. Ice pack in hand, Ted turned and you could see the way his eyes lingered, but he remained focused on attending to your injury.

“Here, why don’t you lay on your stomach and I’ll hold this for you.” You did as he asked, and jumped when the freezing cold sensation hit your skin. “Did you stretch before you got out there?”

You gave Ted a sheepish look from where your head rested on your folded arms and he clucked his tongue at you. “Well if it’s alright with you, it might be helpful to massage your other leg while this one is healing to prevent this in the future. If you’re gonna be a member of my team, ya gotta be proactive in taking care of yourself, ya know?”

You smiled and nodded as he wrapped your ice-pack thigh in a towel so it wouldn’t move and stepped to your other side, rubbing massage therapy oil between his palms before he touched you. “Does that mean you’re letting me back out on the pitch, Coach?” You didn’t mean it to be seductive, but the two of you had somehow slipped into a mild coach-player roleplay, and the moan that slipped from your lips when he pressed down deep into the muscles of your thigh didn’t help.

“As if I could tell you no,” Ted responded affectionately, using both hands to grip your thigh and rub small, deep circles down the length of the muscle. He moved down to your calf, massaging slowly and humming a tune. He switched legs, skipping your injured thigh and going straight to the calf muscle and it felt like heaven, his hands warm and firm against your skin, his long fingers wrapping briefly around your ankle. He let go and you whimpered at the loss.

“How’s your back, love?”

“If I say ‘just awful’ will you keep touching me?”

Ted laughed, a full-bellied laugh that always made you giddy when you could pull it from him. You sat up and he helped you remove your shirt and bra before you laid back down, your arms to your side, and as he walked past your head for more massage oil you couldn’t help but noticed his tented khakis. You had of course felt like this was a rather sexy scenario, but you hadn’t realized how much it was affecting Ted too. He hadn’t made any untoward comments or touched you in any way that someone with a Sports Physiology degree wouldn’t. Knowing that his care for you was NOT centered on sex, that he couldn’t be distracted from looking after you just because you were mostly nude, only made you want to fuck him more.

Ted ran his hands over your back, gently first and then with more pressure. You sighed deeply when he hit the spot between your shoulder blades that always ached from working at a computer all day. He leaned closer so he could focus in on that spot but when his erection brushed your arm he quickly tilted his hips back. You wanted to tell him it was okay but you didn’t want to embarrass him, so you settled for letting him know how much you were enjoying the experience and maybe some not-so-subtle hints.

When his thumbs worked into your lower back, you spread your legs slightly and thanked your lucky stars you had picked gray underwear today. You knew he could see how wet you were by the sharp intake of breath you heard behind you.

“Feel good,” he asked, his voice a little strained, and you smiled over your shoulder at him.

“Very. What would you say if I asked you to get my glutes…Coach?”

Ted took a deep breath that he released as a groan. “I’d say we’d need to get these off.” If you could fist pump in this position you would. You were dying for him to touch you. Not that he hadn’t been, but there were certainly more sensitive areas that could use his attention. Ted removed the towel and ice pack first, letting his long fingers trail along your inner thigh and you shuddered in anticipation. He hooked his fingers in your waistband, slid down your underwear, and then…actually massaged your glutes.

It still felt amazing, but you wanted him to sink those very capable fingers into your core, to massage your clit until you were begging for release.

“Hey, Coach?”

“Hm,” Ted hummed. You couldn’t see him from this angle but he wasn’t tilting his hips back anymore and you could feel him hard against the side of your thigh.

“This is making me very fucking horny.”

Ted laughed. “Is that right? Is that you droppin’ hints that you’d like my hands…a little lower?”

“Well if you’re offering,” you joked nonchalantly as if you weren’t prepared to beg. Ted did slide his hands down but he didn’t immediately sink his fingers into you. Instead, he treated your vulva with the same care he had treated the rest of your body, a gentle but purposeful massage that made it hard to tell whether the growing slickness between your thighs was oil, arousal, or a mix of both.

“Fuck,” you whined as Ted’s middle finger parted you and made contact with your clit, but he pulled away and you grunted in frustration.

“Turn over for me darlin’.”

Ted helped so you didn’t bother your injured leg and though you were more than excited for him to go back to touching you, the real reason you felt heat pooling in your belly was getting to look at his sweet face, concern almost fully replaced with desire, his dimple deepening when his eyes locked on yours.

“Well, hello there,” you said softly and he grinned. “Appreciate the helping hand.”

“Anytime,” Ted responded as he ran his oiled hands up your belly to your peaked nipples, massaging your breasts and leaning forward to capture your moans between his own lips. You tangled your tongue with his, relishing in the slip of his fingers as he pinched at both nipples. He stood up as he trailed one hand back to its previous location. Done teasing, he wasted no time sliding two fingers into you and you tried to keep your reaction in check but you couldn’t help but whine, “Jesus, fuck Ted you feel so fucking good.”

“Shh, I’m glad, baby,” Ted said quietly, obviously not wanting to draw attention to what was currently happening in the treatment room, “just relax and let me take care of you.” He tilted his fingers up to find the soft spot inside of you that made your soul leave your body as his thumb found your clit, his other hand still alternating between your breasts. You were whimpering and whining and Ted was steadily trying to shush you but you didn’t know how he expected you to stay quiet when he was so expertly taking you apart.

“I…I can’t, fuuck, I can’t stay quiet baby.”

“You have to darlin’, you have to be good for me.”

“Mmm,” you complained but then you caught sight of his erection yet again and you ran your hand over it, smiling when he couldn’t help but press into your palm. You tugged him closer to you by his pocket, using both hands to work his pants open and Ted chuckled, “you’re just not going to let me take care of you, are you?”

You freed Ted’s length from his boxers and smiled up at him, batting your eyelashes. “I just thought something in my mouth might help me keep quiet.”

“Christ,” Ted whispered emphatically as you stroked him a few times. Somehow in all of this fingers had never stopped their slow fucking so you knew he was up to the challenge.

“You’re going to have to fuck my mouth since I don’t have the range of motion I normally do, think you can multitask?”

Ted choked on his spit and coughed, sputtering as he answered, “You’re going to be the absolute death of me.”

But it certainly wasn’t a no, and he did as you asked when you slipped the tip of him between your lips, moving slowly to match the pace of his fingers. You moaned against him, adoring the feeling of him heavy in your mouth, letting your tongue circle the seam of him when he pulled back and relaxing your jaw when he pushed back in. He picked up the pace of both his hips and his fingers and you were so close, your whole body pulsing with desire, your injury forgotten. And then Ted slid in a third finger and you were a goner, the stretch and pressure so overwhelmingly good the only thing stopping you from screaming was his dick in your mouth.

Thankfully, when he felt you clench against his fingers he stopped moving his hips, otherwise you surely would have choked. Your chest was heaving as Ted moved to pull out of your mouth but you shook your head no, leaning over to take him in hand before you released him for a gasp of air, stroking him swiftly until you could take him again. When you were ready you sat up slightly so you had more control and used both your hand and tongue to work him over, his chin tucked to his chest and his hand covering his mouth.

“I’m gonna…baby, I’m about to…” He tried to pull back, but you shook your head again and sank down as far as you could and swallowed, feeling him come down the back of your throat. Now it was Ted’s turn to gasp for air as you sucked him clean and released him.

“Can’t believe this treatment room is still haunted,” Ted said as he tucked himself back in his khakis, “you’re a goddamn succubus.”

You laughed as he helped you back into your clothes. The two of you had been missing from training for so long, you just cleaned up the treatment room and left the stadium hoping no one was suspicious. Ted shot Beard a quick text that he was helping you get home and got just a thumbs up in return.

-

A couple weeks later now fully healed, Colin stopped by your office and invited you out to the pitch again. You grinned and pulled on your athletic wear, tying up your boots before stepping out next to Ted. The two of you had decided it was long time to stop sneaking around, so this time when you asked, “you sure it’s okay” and Ted told you to get out there, you thanked him with a kiss.

Both of you looked around at the team confused when no one reacted and Ted cleared his throat, “Guess I should let y’all know that, uh, Y/N and I…”

“We know, Coach,” Sam called out with a smile. “And we’re happy for you both.” The team took to the pitch but you and Ted still looked at each other confused until Isaac came over and murmured, “Training room connects to the locker room. And it's not soundproof, bruv.” You’d never seen the color drain from Ted’s face so quickly, but you just followed Isaac out onto the pitch with a smile. It had been worth it.

And despite now knowing about you and Ted—way too much about you and Ted, it seemed—the boys didn’t take it easy on you for one second. Just the way you liked it.

[missdreamfyre]

𓂃𓏲࣪ ʚɞ succesion/fall of house usher hotd au brainrot i've had for a while ♡. 。°˖

(feel free to use for like whatever i'm probs not going to write this)

Viserys owns a mega company that's been in his family for generations after his great great great grandfather ruthlessly took over the company his first wife aemma died in labor he has one daughter and heir to the empire rhaenyra. his business partner otto convinces him to remarry otto's extremely young daughter and rhaenyra's private school friend best alicent (She's 16 almost 17 when they meet and 18 when they actually get married and have aegon) knowing that they're son would be set to inherit the company as it's tradition that the first born son gets control over the company.

• Viserys and Rhaenyra get into a fight after while drunk at a business party she "sleeps' ' with the much older ex business partner and best friend daemon.

• Daemon is Viserys ex business partner and college friend (not his brother but viserys basically still treats him like one) who was removed from the company due to trying to pivot them to more illegal business.

• The issue with the strong boys is less that their bastards and more that they're very obviously not Laenors.

• The Hightowers are new money and the Targaryens are old money.

• Rhaenyra and Laenor only get married because rhaenyra doesn't want to get married and still wants to privately "play the field" and Laenor is in the closet.

• Viserys dies and "the family goes to war" by suing each other into oblivion, another who gets control over the company and ends up pissing away the family fortune on lawyers and smear campaigns/pr.

• Alicent is basically treated similar to Willa (Succession) or Juno (Fall of House Usher) until Viserys dies.

• Laena is an actress in this au! Rhaena wants to follow her mothers footsteps while Rhaena wants to join the family business (also Rhaena and Helaena become friends in this au cause i think i'd be cute).

• Blood and Cheese is replaced with Daemon using mob connections to have Helaena and her kids kidnapped. Jaehaerys is severely injured by the goons and is hospitalized for a while and is permanently wheelchair bound but lives. This drives Aegon to continue in his war against rhaenyra.

• Alicent homeschools her kids instead of sending them to the prestige boarding school the Targaryens have been going to for decades (she also redecorates the mansion due to it being mildly hideous).

• Aegon is basically a useless fuckboy for the first half of this drinking, using and partying constantly and wants to start his own nightclub but Alicent and Otto stop him.

• Alicent buys a cat once Viserys dies and it's her favorite thing in the world (Aegon jokes she likes it more than him).

• Aemond losing a eye was a prank that the strong boys didn't intend to go that far (it was revenge for Aemond mocking them for being obviously not Laenors kids) Viserys defends them saying it was just boys being boys and that they were sorry and they're all family ect ect alicent loses it and slaps rhaenyra after she suggests Aemond be sent to military school for "Bullying" her sons.

• Aegon is basically a twitter troll and chronically searches his own name to know what people are saying about him. 

• Alicent starts out dressing more like a preppy teenager but covers up more due to her relationship with Viserys plus her being seen as a "Goldigger" by daemon and slutshamed.

• Aemond goes off to study business at a prestigious private university and meets the older Alys.

• This is semi inspired by a fic but Larys is very obsessed with alicent and 100% believes she killed Viserys (she didn't and is also a repressed lesbian in this au) 

• Criston was rhaenyra's bodyguard before what happened in cannon happens and he confesses to alicent and Viserys gets chewed out and fired and almost fired later alicent comforts him and convinces Viserys to have him switched to being her own personal body guard instead of firing him.

• Alicent was into literature in highschool before dropping out to get married and passed that love on to Aemond.

• Daemon has ties to organized crime and instead of taking rhaenyra to a brothel he takes her to a private strip club.

• Rhaenyra was a popular online it girl until she started dating daemon, she argues with people who don't like him on twitter (they're basically grimes and elon musk in this au).

[stillblues]

hi all! i'm shin (he/him, 21+) and i'm excited to be bringing adagio actor/model jung yohan to this group! i haven't written in a hot minute and have really had to dust off my brain the past few weeks, but i'm looking forward to getting back into things with you all. :-) anyway, more about yohan under the cut! and as always, drop a like or message if you'd like to plot~ (discord can be given if you prefer to plot there).

quick nav: private profile, career page.

( * background

born in daejeon, south korea (nov 24 1995) but was basically raised in the countryside by his grandmother while mom worked in the city.

his grandmother was the one to kickstart his dreams to be onscreen, always watching tv dramas and reality shows with him every evening.

the family moved up to seoul together when he was done with high school, which is where he was scouted into a midtier company as an idol trainee.

didn't know anything about performing and it showed. but for the lack of talent, he made up for with a crazy work ethic, and he showed major improvements during his training period.

in 2015, he debuted in a 7-member boy group that flopped hard. after just one comeback, the group disbanded may 2017.

the rest of the year was spent in one massive slump, taking part time jobs and some small modeling gigs as a site model to make ends meet while wondering wtf he was going to do with his life.

got a casting call for an "idol revival" show (similar to "the unit") and ended up joining the show with 2 of his former group members. the show helped push him back into the spotlight as a charismatic leader figure who was great at catching screen time and votes. he made it to the final episode, but didn't quite make the cut for the final lineup of the group.

following another heartbreak, he really didn't know what to expect his life to throw at him next, so a contract with adagio was a happy surprise.

a couple shoot with a senior model under adagio catapulted him back into the spotlight, and he's been garnering opportunities and attention since.

his slow crawl to success has honestly only just started, even though it's been 8 years since his first official debut. he's trying not to let the lost time get to him in case he falls back into another slump, but as soon as work slows down a little, he can't help but feel like he's fading again. (we'll see what evil ways i have planned to get him the attention he wants so bad...)

( * personality

yohan is the picturesque "adagio actor/model standard 3000 max." he's likable, focused on his work, doesn't create any issues, and keeps his distance from the public in a way that shelters his image (think cha eunwoo but way less popular).

has intense focus when he has something to do, but it's mostly because he gets easily distracted if he's not putting his all into the task at hand.

hates to feel stuck, so he's always finding ways to seek out something new to experience. new food, new feelings, new friends, new lovers; he'll try anything once.

he doesn't exactly feel very approachable when he's off the clock, but once you get him started, he'll talk your ear off.

a people pleaser. he hates to assume so he'll ask a lot of questions or just seem clueless in personal situations until he knows exactly what the other party wants. (has accidentally rejected many advances in this manner...)

just kind of a work-obsessed idiot who feels like time is running out fast for him and knows he'll have a breakdown the moment he has a second to think. :-\

( * connections

just some general ideas for plots i'm interested in exploring for yohan!

bonding over failure; people who have also been in past groups/occupations/paths and things didn't work out for whatever reason, which became the common ground for your friendship to build off of.

drinking buddy; he's been indulging a little more often these days.

adventurers; he's always trying to experience something new and exciting, and you're the person he tends to rope into his plans.

good old pr friends; maybe you actually are friends, but it definitely started as a way to build reputations and post nice instagram pics.

actor/model friends!

a musician friend; he doesn't miss his idol days much, but he can still appreciate a good song or a long karaoke session. will probably think you're the coolest person in the world if you play instruments.

past relationships, flings, crushes; he probably let you down too nicely, whether that came as a relief or something to be pissed about for you.

someone who pulled away; whether you wanted to be friends or something more, the way he's just so nice to everyone had you cutting ties before anything could happen. it just rubbed you the wrong way.

a lingering crush; he's way too old to be blushing but you just know exactly what to say and do to stir up new feelings.

an enemy or that one ex; for the angst. maybe you disappeared when he needed you most.

[louisisalarrie]

Hi! Gosh, I wish 2025 would be 201D but I really struggle to see how they could all be together in the same place with the current narratives standing. Surely the minute we have Harry and Louis physically in the same room it’s going to be obvious as to the state of their relationship? From all the video’s I’ve obsessively consumed we saw through what was being pushed as to their friendship. Or maybe I am misunderstanding what you mean’t by 201D. So glad I’ve found your blog, btw- thanks!!!

Hey lovely anon, thanks for being here!! You’re very sweet.

You’re not misunderstanding at all!! It’s exactly what I mean. Just hoping and praying that they come back for a 10 yr reunion. You’re right, the current narratives will have to shift quite drastically over the next little while, but we’ve had some drastic shifts happen before. Plus, a lot of wild PR ops, say if the end of bbg was announced, even some kind of big thing for each boy (I imagine it’ll only be an ot4 reunion unfortunately, by the way, but I am 100% ot5), it would all be good big promo to reintroduce 1d to the general public again, and hype up a reunion and also have Liam/niall/louis’ names more in the press prior to it next to Harry’s already insane press status, so it’s not just Harry and 1d, ya know? And shows their solo careers are going well, and makes them look like established adult musicians.

So I’m sure we’ll get big things prior to an announcement of a reunion, and plenty of seeding. Things can happen fast. And boy there are a lot of folks waiting to make some more money from 1d.

Also I’m mad that 201D reads too much like 2015. But 202D just doesn’t make sense. Although I guess it does… idk. Trying out some fun terms to coin for the chaos!

[workingforitallthetime]

The "top prospects" group in that pic/from today is so strange to me. The michkov erasure at the combine already felt noticeable (and I get he has been busy since getting to america) but now they're also missing leo (who maybe was supposed to be there but his flight was cancelled) and reinbacher?!

Is it really top prospects when this group of 8 is missing potentially 3 of the actual top 8?

i assume michkov is excused from general PR activities because a lot of teams want to meet with him in a very short time frame and that takes priority over general gladhanding, so i wouldn't necessarily read anything into his absence. leo carlsson did indeed miss this event because of flight issues. idk about reinbacher, maybe the nhl really does think this is a strong year for forwards. seems like reinbacher's only predicted to go top 8 bc he's the best defenseman, not necessarily because he's one of the eight best players.

however! where i CAN get a little 👀 is the absence of gabe perreault! there has been so much talk about how the four top ntdp boys could go in pretty much any order, so it seems a little unusual to be missing one of them, especially one that's 1/3 of the vaunted top line triumvirate.

for anyone not as obsessed as me, the prospects in that photo are:

front row, L to R: nate danielson (perfectly serviceable centre from the brandon wheat kings) bedsy (duh) zach benson (short king from the winnipeg ice who'll probably be drafted way later than he deserves) oliver moore (the extra ntdp boy who's not part of the triumvirate)

back row, L to R: matthew wood (tall guy from uconn with skating issues) ryan leonard (len cheddar! the feisty one of the ntdp triumvirate) will smith (the boring centre of the ntdp triumvirate) adam (my beloved feral wolf child of course)

please see this video where they all throw their roommates under the bus.

[newstfionline]

Sunday, April 7, 2024

Shhh, I’m on vacation. Travelers are on a quest for the quiet (AP) At home in the New York City suburbs, Oscar Sandoval has lots of friends and an active social life. But when it’s time for vacation, he prefers to keep it quiet. Like, literally. He’d stroll, sit, do some gardening and generally contemplate life for a week. More recently, he’s done solo backpacking trips across Spain. “The utter peace and stillness is impossible to put into words.” From serene nature retreats to silent walking, the quest for quietude has become one of modern travel’s latest trends. Conde Nast Traveler said last month it was “the travel trend we’re most obsessed with this year.” For many, quiet travel goes beyond escaping the cacophony of everyday life while on vacation. It can be a shift toward introspection; a deeper connection with where we are both literally and figuratively. “Transformative travel’s a trend we’re tracking for growth,” says Alex Hawkins, editor at the trend forecaster and consultancy The Future Laboratory. “It taps into consumers’ desire for self-reflective tourism experiences.”

Mexico breaks relations with Ecuador after embassy raid (Washington Post) Ecuadorian police forced their way into Mexico’s embassy in Quito late Friday and pulled out a former vice president who had sought asylum there, sparking a diplomatic crisis in a region becoming increasingly polarized between left and right. The raid was a brazen move by Ecuador’s government, which sent a convoy of black vehicles with sirens blaring to break down the front gate of the embassy. When the Mexican consul tried to stop one of the vehicles as it exited, police grabbed him and wrestled him to the ground. “This is totally unacceptable,” the consul, Roberto Canseco, told journalists, his voice breaking. “At risk of my life, I defended the honor and sovereignty of my country. This can’t be!”

When Haiti’s gangs shop for guns, the United States is their store (Washington Post) When Walder St. Louis entered the Miami pawnshop in October 2021, his shopping list contained just a few items: Two AK-47s and an AR-15. Germine Joly, then head of the Haitian gang 400 Mawozo, had placed the order from a Port-au-Prince prison. St. Louis would soon send two barrels of firearms back to the Haitian capital. Heavily armed gangs control 80 percent of Port-au-Prince, the United Nations has estimated, where they rape, kidnap and kill with impunity. Haiti doesn’t manufacture firearms, and the U.N. prohibits importing them, but that’s no problem for the criminals. When they go shopping, the United States is their gun store. The semiautomatic rifles that have wrought human carnage from an elementary school in Newtown, Conn., to a Walmart in El Paso are also being used to menace the Haitian government and terrorize the population. U.S. authorities seized some of the guns in the 400 Mawozo plot before they could be smuggled, and Joly, St. Louis and two others pleaded guilty to federal gunrunning conspiracy charges. The gang would soon gain notoriety for kidnapping 17 American and Canadian missionaries. Other firearms, purchased in part with ransom money, slipped into Haiti undetected.

French pupil dies after being beaten near school (BBC) There are renewed concerns over levels of violence in French schools after two young teenagers were the victims of attacks, one of them fatal. A 15-year-old boy named as Shamseddin died in hospital on Friday. The news came a day after he was beaten by a group of youths near his school in Viry-Chatillon, in the southern Paris suburbs. “This extreme violence is becoming commonplace,” said the town mayor, Jean-Marie Vilain. On Tuesday, in another incident in the southern city of Montpellier, a 14-year-old girl named as Samara was placed in an artificial coma after she was beaten by a group shortly after leaving school. The attacks have further heightened concerns about violence in schools, against a background of gangs, cyber-bullying and pressure to conform to Islamic rules.

Germans finally warm to digital payments (Spiegel) The island of Rügen is considered a stronghold for paper money in Germany, which is already widely known as a cash-obsessed nation. Tourists are often amazed by how attached the islanders are to coins and bills. “If you’re going to Rügen, take cash and lots of bread with you!” the Berliner Zeitung in Berlin once wrote. But cards are also slowly finding their way to Rügen, albeit slowly. Stickers can now be found on the windows and doors of many stores in the tourist town of Binz: “We accept debit card payments.” Still, 69 percent of Germans said that cash is either important or very important to them, especially older people and people with low incomes and education levels. In Europe, only Austrians appear to have a greater affinity for cash than the Germans. But that love is being put to the test. Millions of customers suddenly went cashless during the pandemic—and stuck with it. Many young people prefer to pay even small amounts by debit card or mobile phone. The EU is pushing for limits on cash payments, local authorities are issuing debit cards to asylum-seekers and the European Central Bank (ECB) is already working to create a “digital euro.” Cash, it seems, is coming under pressure from many different sides.

With no way out of a worsening war, Zelensky’s options look bad or worse (Washington Post) As Russia steps up airstrikes and once again advances on the battlefield in Ukraine more than two years into its bloody invasion, there is no end to the fighting in sight. And President Volodymyr Zelensky’s options for what to do next—much less how to win the war—range from bad to worse. Zelensky has said Ukraine will accept nothing less than the return of all its territory, including land that Russia has controlled since 2014. But with the battle lines changing little in the last year, militarily retaking the swaths of east and south Ukraine that Russia now occupies—about 20 percent of the country—appears increasingly unlikely. Negotiating with Russian President Vladimir Putin to end the war—something Zelensky has rejected as long as Russian troops remain on Ukrainian land—is politically toxic. The Ukrainian public is hugely opposed to surrendering territory, and Putin shown no willingness to accept anything short of Ukraine’s capitulation to his demands. The status quo is awful. With the fight now a grinding stalemate, Ukrainians are dying on the battlefield daily. But a cease-fire is also a nonstarter, Ukrainians say, because it would just give the Russians time to replenish their forces. Ukrainian and Western officials view Zelensky as largely stuck.

US, Japan, Australia and the Philippines to stage military drills in disputed South China Sea (AP) The United States, Japan, Australia and the Philippines will hold their first joint naval exercises, including anti-submarine warfare training, in a show of force Sunday in the South China Sea where Beijing’s aggressive actions to assert its territorial claims have caused alarm. The four treaty allies and security partners are holding the exercises to safeguard “the rule of law that is the foundation for a peaceful and stable Indo-Pacific region” and uphold freedom of navigation and overflight, they said in a joint statement issued by their defense chiefs Saturday. Aside from China and the Philippines, the long-simmering disputes in the South China Sea, a key global trade route, also involve Vietnam, Malaysia, Brunei and Taiwan. But skirmishes between Beijing and Manila have particularly flared since last year.

Chinese Overcapacity Is About To Slam Into Europe’s Economy (Die Welt) In late March, the BYD Explorer No. 1, a 200 meter-long bright white vehicles carrier, made its maiden voyage to Bremerhaven, a port city on Germany’s North Sea coast, to deliver 3,000 China-made electric cars. Technically equal to most German models, these cars are often significantly cheaper. And they are the first of many waves that will strike at the heart of a key German industry. In the next few years, the Chinese electric vehicle maker BYD alone is planning to launch seven more cargo ships to transport cars from Asia to Europe. And the electric cars are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to industrial products that are expected to pour into Germany from China over the next few years. Many of these will likely be less expensive than their German counterparts, forcing companies and politicians to look for new ways to respond to this challenge.

China carefully scrutinizes U.S. envoy’s ... chopstick skills? (Washington Post) U.S. Treasury Secretary Janet L. Yellen landed in China this week with a raft of thorny issues to tackle. But it wasn’t her trade policy or stance on the poor state of U.S.-China relations that caught the attention of the Chinese public. “Watching Yellen use chopsticks, it’s clear she’s a chopsticks master. She definitely eats Chinese food on a regular basis,” one user wrote on the microblog Weibo after news outlets posted a seven-second video clip of Yellen wielding said utensils at a Cantonese restaurant in the southern Chinese city of Guangzhou on Thursday night. Chinese social media platforms on Friday were awash with details of Yellen’s first meal in China during a week-long visit aimed at improving U.S.-China ties and addressing what Washington sees as unfair Chinese trade practices. Hashtags related to Yellen’s dining choices drew almost 10 million views on Weibo. The breathless state media coverage of her dining choices or dexterity with chopsticks reflects an effort by Beijing to cast Yellen’s visit in a positive light, especially to an increasingly anti-American Chinese public. It underlines how Beijing sees Yellen as perhaps its best hope for improving trade ties with Washington and helping its own ailing economy.

U.S. Seeks ‘Results’ After Israel Promises More Gaza Aid Routes (NYT) World leaders and humanitarian groups said on Friday that Israel must show concrete results after it reacted to growing pressure from the United States by announcing it would open more aid routes into the Gaza Strip, where the United Nations has warned that a famine is looming. At a news conference in Brussels on Friday, Secretary of State Antony J. Blinken welcomed the new aid routes, calling them “positive developments,” but said that the United States was watching to see if Israel would make it a priority to ease the humanitarian crisis in Gaza. One measure of Israel’s commitment, he said, will be “the number of trucks that are actually getting in on a sustained basis.” “The real test is results, and that’s what we’re looking to see in the coming days and the coming weeks,” he said, adding, “Really, the proof is in the results.”

After 6 Months of War, Some Israelis Ask: Is Netanyahu Dragging It Out? (NYT) Nearly six months since it began, Israel’s war in Gaza is dragging on. So, too, is the tenure of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. In Israel, some are now asking: Are the two linked? To his allies, Mr. Netanyahu’s refusal to agree to a cease-fire in Gaza is a necessary one, made in the national interest and backed by many Israelis. The thinking goes that Israel must cripple Hamas to weaken its hand at cease-fire negotiations. To his critics, the prime minister is dragging out the war to prevent the collapse of his fragile right-wing coalition and extend his time in office. By this analysis, he has made a domestic calculus that ignores both the growing global anger about the bloodshed—including from Israel’s most powerful ally, President Biden, which erupted into full view on Thursday—and the rising anger from the families of Israeli hostages who seek their relatives’ immediate release.

13.56 (WSJ) That’s the initial value of Zimbabwe’s new currency against the U.S. dollar. The government, notorious for printing 100-trillion-dollar notes, is launching Zimbabwe Gold, or ZiG, to replace the current Zimbabwe dollar, which most recently traded at more than 30,674 to the U.S. dollar. A previous dollar was abolished in 2009 after a hyperinflation rate of 500 billion percent, according to some estimates. Then the country used foreign currencies for nearly a decade. When the central bank couldn’t pay out savings in cash dollars, it reintroduced the Zimbabwe dollar in 2019. The currency has lost around 75 percent of its value this year.

[intizzies]

i have decided to do a post on the plastics of derry

WENDY:  the CEO . the Queen, she’s the master of resting bitch face and literally always looks disgusted at everything which is highly hypocritical of her bc she is gross.  she has a thing for henry bowers bc she’s self destructive as hell and is kind of an alcoholic. she’s rlly obsessive over everything. her relationship with sabrina is completely manipulation based - she keeps her keen by treating her mean - and her relationship with connie is purely public appearances. she loves the gossip mill in their year being about them when it can be and she’s friends with connie bc she’s a great source of discussion. she’s spoilt, an only child and hella used to getting what she wants.  she chews around 10 pieces of gum per day and smokes everything under the sun. everyone wants to know her / date her / be her. she’s the one who gets the party invites. her parents are business parents and never have time for her but in substitute, she gets all of the material things she wants.

SABRINA: the PR girl. she’s the gretchen weiners of the three and makes sure they’re pumping out content for the general public. i swear if these three were a corporate business they’d be so fucking successful lmao. she’s on the school newspaper team and quite literally promotes gossip. she’s smothered by her middle class parents and her older sister and just wants a break from it all. she gets ‘crushes’ on teachers and mouths off about it all the time but everyone knows she would never do anything. she will do anything for wendy - she’s in love with her tbh. she’s been heavily manipulated by her and has developed a kind of Stockholm syndrome co-dependency. in her head she’s the only one for her. connie and her have this unspoken bond bc of wendy’s reign. when she’s being shit, they hang out. if wendy didn’t exist these two would actually have a healthy friendship, but alas.

CONNIE: the consumer material. she’s realised she can’t tell wendy or sabrina anything bc it will get out 30 seconds after she opens her mouth. the three of them are only friends bc of appearances and a weird solidarity. connie is the constantly high, constantly out-of-it reckless ‘idiot’ who smokes by the bike sheds and avoids her asshole big brother and pack of douchey friends who are basically frat boys who didn’t go to college. she screws around and it is known she does. she likes sabrina sometimes but only sticks around wendy bc of loyalty. weirdly connie is pretty loyal to her friends, but she’ll be a bitch to anyone who looks at her funny. she turns up to prom on ket (supplied by asshole brother). a walking disaster girl.

[iamanartichoke]

So "Tom Hiddleston and Zawe Ashton are engaged" was trending on twitter last night, and it popped up on my facebook feed (I gotta stop clicking on Marvel articles bc the algorithm tbh), and my initial reaction was, 😍 good for them! and my second reactions was, lol cue the uberstans* having meltdowns -

- so then I went to go find some wank bc I was bored and I think Tom wank - like, literally about Tom, not about Loki or any character he plays - is an 8/10 on the wanky entertainment scale (mainly bc there's just so much to unpack but I don't usually get emotionally invested [I do sometimes get angry on Tom's behalf bc dear lord] so it's just like, *munches popcorn* ) -

- and, anyway, I'm not sure what it says about me that a) I did this in the first place (intentionally sought out wank, I mean) or b) that I was not disappointed, bc oh my god, the takes. To be fair, the reaction seems to be mostly positive and supportive, but of course there's that faction of the Tom fandom - the aforementioned uber stans - who genuinely seem like they don't want Tom to ever have nice things.

Cut for length and also bc this post is stupid.

Some highlights -

It's a PR stunt (if so, they're really pulling off the long con) (not clear if it's PR for Tom [TES] or Zawe [new Marvel role] or both

Relatedly, apparently Tom (and Zawe) is irrelevant at this point and they're just trying to drum up publicity to keep his name out there (especially hilarious bc the last couple of years, he's been so relevant, especially compared to 2016-18ish when he'd dropped off the face of the earth, but what they really mean is that he's irrelevant for anything besides Marvel/Loki and they really resent that he's not out doing tons of good movies like Benedickle Cumberpickle**)

^^ Furthermore, Tom must think he has the star power/relevance to be picky about roles but he's no Leonardo DiCaprio or whoever and he needs to work, okay, bc the thirsty fanatics demand it (see: stan entitlement toward Tom's life, career, and general being)

^^ Also, Tom needs to be done with Loki now bc he definitely looks too old to play the part anymore

It's old news bc Zawe's been wearing a ring for months so, like, whatever, yawn, we already knew anyway

^^ but also Zawe wore a very loose-fitting dress to whatever awards the other day, and clearly this means she's pregnant, so they're now trying to spin the engagement narrative before the inevitable pregnancy announcement

Celebrity marriages never last, they'll split eventually (assuming they even actually go through with getting married in the first place)

Tom is about to lose so many fans bc the thirst is real but it's only worthwhile if he's single or they believe he is

And like I said, most of the reaction is positive/supportive, but the unhappy ones are really unhappy for, clearly, a myriad of reasons and I don't have time to unpack all of them but suffice it to say, this kept me entertained for at least a good hour and a half last night bc, like, boy howdy how do these people's brains even function.

* uberstans - the fans I consider to be completely unhinged about Tom, ie just obsessed, to the point that they lose their minds over stuff like this that interferes with the fantasy(?) that someday they will meet Tom and he will fall in love with them or whatever

** idk if making fun of Benedict's name is an Old Meme at this point and no longer funny, but to me it will never stop being funny, bc I'm very easily amused, I will not be taking constructive criticism at this time.

[incarnateirony]

Riddle me this: If Walker can't even make it a 4 season run as a CBS product (with potential of episode trajectory rounding down to 0.0 on some eps in S2 alone both by season decline and loss of Lindsey, much less S3)...

will... CW shows or either parent studio even hire him again?

I mean think about it. They literally sold their prize pony down the river to boost it, it didn't work, all that happened was their entire network glass cliffed and all their properties dramatically devalued overnight. It's expediting the network's heat death as the shell agency that delivers the content for these parent companies. Like the very definition of betting on the wrong horse.

And while he's on CW as a golden child, they may deal with his public tantrums and ignore it, do... you think they're gonna forget him almost torpedoing The Winchesters, one of the few things with a meaningful chance of turning it around for them?

As it is, it doesn't look like Jared's getting mountains of job offers outside of the CW. Even CBS didn't want walker (lol "Pedowitz bid high" bitch why didn't CBS want it on its network). I don't see side gigs, cameos, movie deals, book deals being thrown, I just see vitamin sand water posted everywhere. His star meter is reading lower than his pre-SPN Gilmore Girl Days. His trends have slid behind colleagues he used to be above on socials. His fandom already tore up Amazon/The Boys over their own delusions. He's known for set damages, for PR blowups, and for a toxic fanbase in media abroad--it's not HARD to see why there's not external offers.

I'm-- genuinely wondering if we're seeing the death of the career of Jarpad.

Beyond like, reprising Sam, for simple IP/continuity purposes, in whatever Winchester cameos there may be while it centers on Dean POV. Does the network even have a particular reason right now to encourage Sam forward on it beyond guest spots?

I'm just staring at this grizzly aftermath. I wanted CW to learn it's lesson, I wanted Jarpad to, IDK. Learn. DO better. Stop making terrible choices. Stop veering into the Red lane. And yeah, I'm miffed he didn't. But whatever part of me USED to be a fan of his until the last year or two is still looking at it a bit sadly. Like, wish I could get in a time machine and zap about a decade back and warn the fuck out of Jared about fans, life choices, project choices, and everything else. Like maybe nobody intervened enough. IDK.

Sad, yet entirely predictable. As we've... been predicting. And avoidable. But I'll save the pity for this post. Because at the end of the day, he's chosen to aggress, double down, blow up, do damage, spew queerphobia and whatever else, so my empathy based on past illusions of him only stretches so far.

So like. Probably more harold memes tomorrow. But just a somber moment in general.

Walker doesn't even stream worth HBO picking it up for dev if CW crashes and burns in the ongoing aftermath of the SPN finale causing network-wide abandonment that gouged their ratings and never returned. Other shows would, like S&L. But... I dunno.

It's a weird feeling because there's actually no "yay I'm right" beyond the admitted smirk of pissing off a few assholes that obsess about me worse than they hate boner on Misha Collins himself. That passed quickly. Now it's just a puzzle box of littered broken feelings to sort together.

[owo--bot]

Loyal as a Dog // Sanzu Haruchiyo x Reader

Chapters 4-6

wc: 4k

Tags: slowburn (the literal slowest), friends to lovers, coming of age, hurt & comfort, fluff, light and dark themes, plot heavy

TW // codependency, they're both semi toxic, underage drinking, obsessive behavior, untreated mental health issues,

Chapter Four: Hands of a Creator

I'd love to have the hands of a creator. One that creates beautiful things; may that be bonds, a future, or even a foundation for others. But when I look at my hands, they appear filthy. Are they really mine? The only meaning my life offers is to hold those dear to me close, even if I suffocate them in the process. Even if everything becomes black. Even if my hands don't look like mine. Even if it hurts.

What I'm trying to say is that these hands are that of;

A murky protector.

What I love may never die.

What I love will always be safe.

Trample on the ones I love.

And I will shatter your creator's hands.

-

"Happy-"

Bang bang bang

Your typical Sunday morning; passed out beaten and bruised. Smothering your roommate as usual, too exhausted to wake up with the rest of the world. The pounding erupting from the door was an alarm neither of you asked for. An alarm that failed to wake you. Peeling your hands off, Sanzu shoved you awake.

"Get the door."

You whined before sitting up groggily, hearing three more firm bangs.

"Waaait." You called, crawling out of the futon and teetering to the door.

"Hey ya bastards."

The dark-haired visitor grinned, showing his set of canines as he flung the door open further. You stepped aside, rubbing your eyes as the boy welcomed himself in.

"Oh, hey Mr. Baji. What are ya doing here?"

"What, your captain can't check up on ya?"

"What happened?" Sanzu joined, blanketed in a serious demeanor.

"Are ya really going to make me repeat myself?"

The captain barked, as he further made himself at home; taking a seat in the kitchen while using the table as a footrest. His eyes shifted from Sazu over to you.

"What, you two finally get sick of each other?" He grinned, tapping his nose.

"No way! I got these from keeping Sanzu safe."

"Still playing guard dog huh?" Baji grinned as he humored you.

"Woof!" You replied.

"Don't do that." Sanzu shot back at you.

Baji let out a slight chuckle as he leaned forward in the chair.

"Well, it looks like you two are fine."

Baji stood from his seat, starting towards the door. With one foot out the door, he looked back momentarily and asked.

"Hey, you two seen the news lately?"

"Nope!"

"Ah, well, it wouldn't hurt to check it out."

"Thanks, Mr. Baji!"

"It's Baji, later."

The captain waved his hand back at you, just as abruptly as he'd entered, he'd left.

Sanzu narrowed his eyes towards the outdated television set, shuffling towards it and immediately clicking on the power, sifting through the stations.

"Why the news? We're not that old yet, right Sanzu?"

The blonde didn't respond as he continued crouching in front of the screen, while you began with the routine penalty. Folding, folding, folding, lugging, lugging, lugging, before too long the futons were placed neatly within the closet.

"Look."

Sanzu signaled you over to the television, pointing to words cycling through at the bottom of the screen.

"I should've cracked his skull open." Sanzu tsked.

-Politician beaten and robbed: suspects are a woman supposedly around 18 years of age as well as an unidentified accomplice. Details of the woman's appearance are listed below, while there are still no verifications on the second suspect. If you have any information please call us now at xxx-xxx-xxxx.-

"Is that supposed to be me?"

You held your hand to your mouth trying to suppress the outburst of laughter.

"They didn't even get my age right."

"Shut up, it might be vague but that looks like you."

Sanzu pointed at the rough sketch in the bottom corner of the screen. There was a long pause before he looked back as you spoke up.

"Well… What should I do?"

"Your hair, start with that."

"Okey-dokey boss!"

You agreed, motioning to him with a salute.

-

Ding dong

A bell chimed upon entering the general store. You were met with isles upon isles of goods, ranging from groceries to your everyday household necessities. A woman greeted you from behind the counter as you strolled along to the section labeled as Hair Products.

Your eyes scanned the shelves, stocked full of hair dye products along with bleach, toners, and anything else you might need. Scooping up two separate boxes you spun around all too eagerly.

"Hey, hey! Which one?"

"It doesn't matter, just pick one."

"Aww come on Sanzu! Hey, let's dye your hair too. What if we got matching colors?"

You shook the boxes of dye attempting to hold in your excitement. It was pretty rare the two of you got to spend money on things other than the fundamentals so yes, you were bubbling over at the seams.

"We don't have extra money to blow."

Sanzu snatched the second box of dye from your hand, throwing it back on the shelf.

"I didn't hear a no? We could always steal it."

"No."

Watching the blonde walk-off, once again you pledged to another carefree ambition: getting Sanzu to dye his hair with you– eventually.

"Ah well, he still picked out the color."

You looked down at the remaining box in your hand, letting out a concerningly sinister laugh. Merry as could be, you ventured back to the register, totaling the purchase and giving Sanzu back the additional change.

"Thank you, please come again."

Ding dong

-

With the apartment coming into view, your excitement continued welling up. Turning towards Sanzu you held out the bag containing the dye.

"Hey! Wanna help?"

"I'm dropping you off."

"Boo! What for?"

"Meeting someone for our next job."

"Okay well, have fun Boss!"

You waved at him as the two of you parted ways.

"Come back and get me before the meeting tonight, please!"

"I'll think about it."

Sanzu waved his hand upwards as he departed, the slightest smile tugged at his lips.

"Thank you!"

Trotting up the stairs at full speed you trailed down the path leading to your room. Patting yourself up and down, frantically you looked for your key until you heard the slightest jingle resonating from your neck. Accompanied by a sigh of relief you removed the chain and unlocked the door.

Flinging the products out of your bag you set off to the bathroom, pumped up for the abrupt change to your appearance.

After about an hour of bleaching, washing, dying, and washing again it was finally done. Looking in the mirror you faced the final result of your work. A thin line curved at your lips, splint, and bandages aside you were delighted.

Now all that was left was waiting for Sanzu to come back and get you. Bajis' squad was set to have a meeting tonight, so long as Sanzu came you'd be able to get there. There was a time where he tried giving you directions, which only resulted in you ending up at the opposing section of the city. It had to be some kind of feat passed down through your family's genealogy because it was unfathomable how terrible your sense of direction was.

Standing there, looking back at yourself in the mirror, an uncomfortable feeling began creeping over you.

"I should clean."

As though your life depended on it you made a beeline towards the kitchen. Opening one of the cupboards you yanked out an assortment of sponges and solutions, prepping the house for an intensive scrub down.

Spray, wipe, scrub, dust, spray, wipe, scrub, dust,

…

spray, wipe, scrub, dust, spray, wipe, scrub, dust.

…

Spray, wipe, scrub, dust, spray, wipe, scrub, dust

…

The sun had begun to set, knowing that at any moment Sanzu would be walking through that door.

At any moment.

At any moment.

At any moment.

At-

Knock, knock

Tumbling to the door you swung it open with a smile.

"Welcome back!-...?"

To your surprise, you were met with a boy sporting a choppy blonde and black undercut: First Division vice-captain, Chifuyu Matsuno.

"... Y/n?"

"Ah, Yessir!"

"Oh, sorry you just look- never mind… Something happened with Sanzu."

...

Clasping your hands in front of your face, you replied with a nervous smile.

"I see."

-

Chapter Five: Burns the Rest

I have a love for many things; the rising sun, handknit scarves, cheap meals among friends, cute things and scary things, words of affirmation, stray cats, the ladybug who landed on my window, convenience stores at night, the elderly couple next door, that crack on the sidewalk, bonds stronger than life.

All things bear a potential for love.

So I express my love for oh so many things.

But this fixation called loyalty tugs at my chest, what do I do when the things that I love collide.

It's simple really.

Because I feel it, tugging at my chest;

In my heart where many are loved, it knows which is strongest.

And burns all the rest.

-

The sun had begun its descent below the horizon, enveloping the streets of Tokyo in a golden hue. The humming of an engine prattled on as the daylight became scarce. Giving a chummy pat to the boy's shoulder, as he further adjusted himself onto the leather seat. Letting out an exaggerated laugh you followed behind, securing your arms around his stomach.

"You seriously had me going there for a second Chifuyu."

The vehicle took off leaving you in a short bout of laughter, only due to the state of ease your psyche mellowed into. Moments earlier the world was uprooted and nearly ceased to exist, but!— Chifuyu had explained Baji and Sanzu were going at it again, nothing life-threatening and something that was by no means a rare occurrence. It'd typically be initiated through some minor dispute like buying the wrong soda and from there it'd quickly progress into a barking match; in rare cases becoming physical. Looking back only one particular incident came to mind that could be considered 'serious', in which Sanzu initiated a fight with members from another gang and promptly got his ass kicked. Baji was far from thrilled, you could've sworn his pupils were stained red.

"Stop picking fights you can't win."

Was the captain's one and only warning.

But hey, even the happiest of families need to bicker once in a while and your squad was no exception. In the grand scheme of things it just proved how close Toman really was.

This was just the way your family was.

The wind scratched against your cheeks with a burning sensation as the bike weaved around each corner and street, until finally—

You had arrived.

The lot was cluttered with bikes, parked this way and that along the weathered asphalt. The vehicle you had accompanied came to a firm stop as you released Chifuyu from your clutches. The rumbling of the exhaust was replaced with an inaudible mess of voices, but the shouting of your captain reigned dominant.

"Huh, they're still going?"

Chifuyu commented, turning to what looked to be the majority of the First Division. Packed together they were gathered around an opening in the middle of the lot.

Stepping down off the bike you approached the huddle of bodies. Peeking above the crowd you got a glimpse of Baji, standing tall within the center of the group. Sifting through the mass your gaze finally fell to your roommate; positioned on the asphalt. His face was twisted in a scowl, gritting his teeth as he looked up at Baji.

Passing by the last wall of people you stepped into the inner ring.

Normally it's just a screaming match, yeah here and there it'd get physical but nothing too intense.

Nothing too intense.

You watched the scene unfolding before you, a discomposing feeling blurred your senses. It just didn't make sense. Sanzu was beaten down, why? Your head buzzed as you tried making sense of it;

Did Baji do this?

No, Baji's not a bad person, he wouldn't go this far.

Then why?

Baji is a good person, then why?

He couldn't have done that.

Right?

Your head spun, jamming pieces together that didn't fit. There were too many contradictions bouncing around as you felt the sensation of your brain short-circuiting. Yeah, reasoning and logic weren't your forte so how about this; no more thinking— only doing. You broke off from the group and headed into the den of wolves.

"Baji, what's your problem?"

You questioned closing the gap, only sparing inches between your faces.

"Back down Y/n."

The captain barked at you, baring his canines. It wouldn't be odd if one mistook him for a feral dog, his eyes were devoid of any compassion.

Your hand motioned towards the collar of his jacket, before making contact an unrelenting hand curled around your wrist.

"You listening? I said back down." Baji's grip tightened, as he spat out words that seeped with venom.

Sanzu glared up at you wearing a similar expression; another untamed presence. His face was littered with cuts and bruises, which only further contorted at the sight of you.

"Stay out of this," Sanzu hissed.

Upon his demand; you untensed your hand, allowing it to fall from Bajis' hold. Without a word you returned to the group, begrudgingly taking on the title of a bystander.

"You really like making me repeat myself don't ya? So I'll ask you one more time, what the hell were you doing?"

"..."

"Oh?"

Obediently you stood there in silence, without so much as blinking you took in the ugly scene derailing before you. Your thoughts teetered on the brink of nothingness, as the seams of your family unraveled.

"You're done, get the hell outta my sight."

Baji shifted his back towards the blonde, who'd been left there, continuously gritting down on his teeth in a silent rage. The group spilled outwards upon Baji's dismissal, leaving only two.

"What happened?" You asked.

The boy's soft features contrasted with the scrapes, bumps, and bruises that marked him up and down. Reaching out you hoped to help him up, but instead, your hand was met with a bitter slap.

"Don't touch me."

"Yeah... Sorry."

Silence washed over you, waiting for Sanzu to say anything, to do anything.

Anything.

And so he did, standing up he turned his back towards you, towards Baji, towards the First Division, heading off and becoming swallowed up by the night.

"Hey, that's not fair. This– sucks for me too. Y'know?"

You bit down hard on your thumb, an anxious response to the question of: what do I do? Clearly out of touch with your surroundings a voice broke through.

"And you, know your damn place."

The seething captain strutted up behind you, granting a firm slap to the back of your head. The sudden impact shoved you back into reality, hinting at the slightest traces of a smile you answered:

"Yes, Mr. Baji."

"It's Baji."

"You got it, Mr. Baji."

This is only temporary—bad things can't last forever.

They never last forever.

And also, because–

You're a good person.

Right?

Mr. Baji.

-

Chapter Six: Unraveling

It's unraveling

And unraveling

And unraveling

And unraveling

I need to mend it back together—

But

I don't know how to sew.

-

Your fingertips lingered over the handle, a spark of hope entwined in your stomach. The scent of citrus hit your nose as you opened the door; oh yeah– It was only a few hours ago when you scrubbed this place top to bottom.

Yeah, that was only… A few hours ago.

In two quick movements, you slipped off your shoes and flicked on the lights; peering forward into the cramped living space.

It's empty.

...

Raising your hands you inhaled sharply, giving your cheeks a firm slap.

"Boss'll make fun of me if he comes back and sees me all depressed. Besides, it’ll all fix itself– that's how things always work."

So as usual you laid out both futons, giving enough space between the two that you deemed sufficient. You played out the routine comments Sanzu would make; threatening to chain your futon down outside. Finishing that thought you pushed the beds apart a few more inches, although there wasn't much more room you could give in your defense.

"Everything will work out."

-

The creaking of the floorboards broke through the murmurs falling from your lips. The rowdiest of sleepers was carelessly sprawled out on top of each futon. As a hand rested on the back of your head consciousness tugged at your senses. Opening your eyes a whisper met you through the silence.

"Sorry," Sanzu mumbled.

"Yeah," you replied.

A goofy smile sprouted on your face as you turned over, desperate hands reached out and clung to that eternally damaged face. It was a silent agreement that he wouldn't complain until morning.

-

I'm not in the First Division anymore.

Is what you thought came out of those battered lips. But really, did your ears go on strike or something? Because you kept hearing variations of things like

I got moved

I'm not coming back

I got reassigned

How many different ways could your senses deceive you? Quite a few apparently, because no matter how the words were arranged they all stated the same thing.

"I'm done repeating myself."

Sanzu slid his plate across the table, indicating he was done.

"I'm sorry! But seriously, something weird's going on. My ears aren't working right."

You tried grasping at any excuse that'd allow you to continue refusing the reality that was oh so wrong.

"No, you're just being difficult."

"Yeah, maybe but– I just don't like being separated, ya'know? So I wanna get moved too." You gave a cheesy grin as your hands clamped together with overwhelming enthusiasm.

"Do you like Baji?"

"Of course! I have nothing but respect for Mr. Baji."

"Then stay with him, you have no reason to switch divisions."

Sanzu's statement came out cold, denying your request. This can't be right. Can it?

…

An uncomfortable sensation swept over your skin. What's this empty feeling? Is this it? Did your usefulness wither away...?

"Did ya do it so you could get away from me? Is that why ya started that fight? Because you-"

You fired off; loaded question after question, the unrelenting tone you'd taken on congested the room. Everything was edging into a blur until an unrelenting hand coiled around your wrist, yanking it across the table. The intensity of Sanzu's gaze burned into you like an owner scolding their dog.

"Don't."

Sanzu's tone was stern, pulling you back to some sense of rationality even if it was induced through fear.

"Sorry…"

With newfound embarrassment, the gears in your brain came to a gradual stop as Sanzu released his hold on you.

"Besides, it won't be all the time. I'll be with you the rest of the time, alright?"

"I'm still really, really not happy about this but… Okay."

You shrugged still a bit on the deflated side but there wasn't much more you could say. His hand brushed against your cheek bringing your gaze up from the floor back into his soft eyes.

"I always know what's best, right?"

"Yes!"

That's right, Sanzu always knows best–no matter how much it hurts, the fact– no, the law of your world was;

He always knows best .

"Good, now hurry up. There's somewhere we need to check out."

"You got it, Boss!"

In a few swift movements you rinsed off the dishes and within a few steps, you readied yourself within the cramped bathroom.

-

Rubbing your hands together, the wind brushed up against your skin; reminding you that winter was on its way. Dim lighting drifted atop the playground, appearing ever so ominous at this hour. The swings were lonely as they creaked in intervals, the wind being their sole guide. Of all places, this one seemed right: at this exact time, with this exact atmosphere, everything existed so perfectly.

"Our next job is one week from now."

Leaning back on the park bench, the boy's words were accompanied by a subtle mist hitting the Autumn air.

"That was fast, huh, so whaddya we gotta do?"

"We're robbing a house. Owners are going on vacation."

"Vacation…?"

"Yeah, guy who hired us is a scumbag. Wants half the cut but I think thirty'll do."

"Hmm, are they rich?"

"Didn't sound like it, just some mediocre family."

"Sheesh, talk about harsh. Employer must have some grudge, don'tcha think Boss?"

"Doesn't matter, but look."

Sanzu pointed upwards in the distance, presenting a row of houses nestled along the quiet streets.

"That one in the middle's where we'll be going."

"Oh, so coming here wasn't a date."

Equipped with a foolish grin you stared up at your next target. How….

Ordinary.

Light spilled out from the wall panels giving you a view of a shallow set of stairs accompanied by wooden fencing lining the outside of each home. Staring at the house you wondered if there would ever be a day where you'd come to live in something like that. Something deemed as; just ordinary. But then again you'd be happiest if nothing changed, if things could be the same forever– that would be the best life.

Your fingers tingled against the frigid wind, blowing hot air against them you tried regaining some warmth.

"Hey Mr. Sanzu, keep my hands warm."

You grinned stating your demand, holding your hands up to the boy who was seemingly unbothered by the chill air.

"You have pockets don't you."

Sanzu resumed leaning back on the bench as his gaze rested on the starless sky.

"Nope!"

Jumping up off the bench you shed your jacket, forsaking it along with the pockets it possessed to the ground. With an ‘I’m so clever’ Esque smirk you pointed to your defense announcing:

"See."

Sanzu shrugged in response, holding out his hand which you were quick to snatch up. Upon settling back onto the bench, you smiled plopping your head against Sanzu's shoulder.

"If you ever leave me, I'll be done for."

"Yeah, I know."

"So never leave me, okay?"

"Yeah."

His hand felt warm within your own, warm in body and warm in soul. Your arms were left barren to the weather but your mind was occupied elsewhere; the feeling of his skin against yours, the heat he gave off, how rigid his shoulder felt, and how you wanted things to stay like this forever.

That's right, now nothing else mattered, as long as things stayed like this forever.

Especially not the home you'd soon intrude, nor the family it'd affect.

Yeah

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't?

Matter?

...

I wonder what vacations are like.

[dp-marvel94]

Fractured

For the Phic Phight 2021.

Prompt by @blueoatmeal. Fracture: At his creation, he was a fusion of two mismatched halves. Now, the Dark Phantom is split into two pieces again.

Word Count: 4828

Also on A03 and Fanfiction.net

Warnings for suicide mention, mention of blood, general TUE timeline awefullness

This took me so long to finish but I'm done. I've actually really wanted to write something like this for a while. It's also inspired this post, a conversation with @all-out-disney based on a prompt by @danphanwritingprompts.

When he had first been created, it was painful. The combination of two mismatched parts, two fractured pieces that never should have come together to form a whole. In the beginning, Phantom and Plasmius had fought against each other. Everything had been confusion and pain. So much information, so many memories and sensations clashing together. The two had nearly fallen apart at the start. But the thing holding them together? Anger.

Kill it! Kill the brat!

No! No! The new being’s hands held their head while it screamed.

Weak! It was his fault! In his head, one voice screamed. His fault they’re gone.

His fault? The other voice asked, the words echoing in their head.

An enraged hiss. His fault! His fault! 

They’re gone.

Gone! He threw us away! 

A fresh memory. Being ripped out of his body, his souls being pulled apart. Oozing, bleeding. A pain in his inmost being.

He threw us away...But...

In front of the lanky, blue skinned ghost, a blue-eyed boy trembled. Danny’s human half whimpered. “Please! Stay away!”

Quick! Do it now! In the air, the new ghost twitched, hunched over in pain.

But...I don’t want to-

He didn’t want us. Didn’t want us. Pain. Pain. His fault.

That licked at their anger. He didn’t want me. A growl. This was supposed to fix things, supposed to make the pain go away.

It’s his fault.

The human pressed up against the wall, his breath quickening. “No. This is wrong. This is wrong.”

“This is your fault.” The new being hissed, his voice a sick, twisted echo of the human’s.

Danny shook, eyes widening. “No. I didn’t...I didn’t want this.”

I didn’t want this. One voice echoed the human’s words.

Kill him! Before he destroys us!

Shakily, one hand lit with an ectoblast. Their eyes widened with terror even as a wicked grin stretched across their face.

No! I don’t-

The being shot the blast anyway. Danny screamed as the energy burned him. He scrambled to get away, his hands reaching for something to protect himself with. He grabbed a green and silver device and jabbed it at the ghost.

The flaming-haired figure growled in pain. It hurt. Everything hurt. It wasn’t supposed to hurt anymore.

Make the pain go away. Destroy the weakness.

Weakness. The part of them that was, that had been Phantom, remembered. Pain. Too weak, too slow, too stupid to save them. Curled on his bed, crying until he couldn’t breath. Wishing he could just die. There’ll be no pain if he’s dead.

Die then. The part that was Plasmuis, remembered. His phone dropped out of his numb gripp. He never got his revenge, never got Maddie as his bride. Listening to Daniel weep, the boy broken, withering away. Pathetic, weak.

Anger surged at the sight in front of them, worsened by the pain of the attack. The new ghost lunged, red hot rage coalescing the battling thoughts into a single line, a single drive.

Make the pain go away.

The human Danny never had a chance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The new ghost settled, smoothing out into something like one being. He grew in power and ability. He didn’t worry about things like names. Everyone who really knew where he’d come from was dead. As was his past. His past didn’t matter. (But it did. It did. It still hurt so much. He still missed his parents. His dear Maddie, the oaf Jack. Sam and Tucker. Daniel’s little friends. His sister. Jasmine.)

No, that didn’t matter. None of it mattered. None. All there was, all that matter was his work. He had important work to do. He needed to amass more power so he could take what he wanted, do what he wanted. And what he wanted? For the pain to go away, at a global, no, a universal scale. No one would hurt if they all were dead.

He was never supposed to exist. Really all things considered, he shouldn’t. He was two fragments clinging to each other. (But...that gap, that hole it was still there. It was still there. He shouldn’t have killed Danny Fenton. He missed...he missed Danny. He missed being Danny). He was better without those weak human halves (Lie.) He was never supposed to exist  and yet...here he was. And he would do what he needed to.

Years passed. The new ghost, called The Dark Phantom or just Phantom by his enemies and victims, (The name sickened him.) raged. He killed and maimed and destroyed. Ghosts were warped by his hand. Blood was spilled. The world was ravaged. He tried to destroy humanity but they were resilient. (He should stop. He needed to stop. He didn’t want this.)

He started collecting objects of power. The crown of fire. The ring of rage. He destroyed the Ghost King. The Infinite Realms were under his thumb. 

And then...he discovered the Reality Gauntlet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Dark Phantom floated over the ravaged battlefield. Builds crumbled around him, the smell of smoke and fresh spilled blood filling his nose. He grinned wickedly, clutching his prize in his hands. The humans had fought to keep it from them, they really had. Those idiotic GIW had hid it deep underground years before, their only intelligent action before he’d overpowered them. They’d destroyed all physical and digital records of it.

But he’d found it. He’d found the Reality Gauntlet anyway, killing and destroying anyone and anything in his path. Even now, his greatest human enemy, Valerie Gray the Ghost Slayer, laid dead at his feet. Even she’d fallen in the futile attempt to keep ultimate power out of his hands.But she’d failed. They all had failed. And now he held the glove in his gasp.

The ghost laughed evilly. And now he could have anything, anything at all he wanted. He floated higher, looking towards something at the horizon at the green glow of a ghost shield. Within that barrier laid Amity Park, the last resistance, humanities’ last stronghold. And now he could destroy it. One thought and he could destroy everything.

The ghost flew closer, coming to stop at a hill overlooking the city. It was a rare bare area, free of the usual twisted metal and broken concrete of apocalyptic landscape. Instead, there was just knee length grass. He landed and slid the glove onto his right hand.

Now, how did he want to do this? How did he want to destroy this thorn in his side? Fire? Nuclear explosion? Maybe he should freeze it solid? Not that was stupid. Asteroid impact? Suck it into a black hole? Maybe he should just suck the whole planet into a black hole. The ghost tapped his chin. He had always wondered what that would be like. What did a black hole actually look like in person? What would it be like to fall into one? What would it feel like? Would you really sit at the event horizon and watch all of time for the rest of the universe pass in the eternal moment before you were ripped apart?

The Dark Phantom shivered. There was the space nerdiness again. It did love to rear its head at the strangest moments. He shook his head. He needed to focus on how he would destroy his hometown. The place where he’d grown up, where he’d learned to ride a bike and meet his friends. Where he’d watched the stars and gone to high school and where he’d died the first time. Where his friends and family had died. 

The images flashed in his mind and the ghost pinched his eyes closed. A fiery explosion, concrete and metal, his pounding heart as he stood intangible in the middle of the wreckage. (He should have died with them.) Numb, sitting with the paramedics. Shock, they said. It was weeks before he spoke again. Standing in the rain, the two half ghosts together. Danny hadn’t even had the energy to flinch away when Vlad had put his hand on his shoulder, smuggly smiling down at the boy. Staring at the grave. Graves that were on the other side of the shield.

The ghost shivered, pushing the images away. No, stop that. Stop that. He would destroy them. He’d destroy the graves and the city. The plants that Sam loved so much, all the technology that Tucker tinkered with. Every single last book that his sister, Jasmine, studied. Every, single damn blasted ghost that his parents, his dear friends, were obsessed with. He’d destroy all of it, all of it damn it. He pressed the Gaunlet’s gems in sequence. He’d never have to look at their graves, remember any painful memory ever again.

The Dark Phantom pressed his will into the gems. With his eyes closed, his fractured soul poured its deepest desire into the glove. Power surged out of the Gauntlet, the smell of ozone burning the air. The ghost braced himself. It would happen any second now, the one thing he wanted. It would be his and all of this would be over. But...there was nothing. No heat, no cold, no explosion, no screaming, no crying. Nothing.

Instead, there were five soft thumps in front of him and one behind him. The ghost didn’t dare look yet. Then finally, after what felt like forever, there was a gasp. The ghost opened his eyes and his jaw dropped. There in front of him were five people. Each was sitting on the ground, rubbing their heads. None were looking at him yet. But his eyes flickered between the figures.

This couldn’t….this couldn’t be. It couldn’t...He knew...No...He didn’t….he didn’t. They couldn’t be...these weren’t….but….

Sam? Tucker? He wanted to ask, but the words choked him. He glanced between the two. Sam, who was staring angrily at the ruined environment. Tucker, who was taking his glasses on and off, as if that would change what he was seeing. 

But the image didn’t change, no matter how many times the ghost blinked. Here they were. They were really here, right in front of him. His (Daniel’s little) best friends. These two who’d been with him through it all. Through tests and projects and long days at the arcade and the waterpark. Through the accident. Through the power malfunctions and the late night ghost fighting. (No, he’s been alone. His friends had left him in that hospital to rot.)  Through injuries and secrets and- 

“Madds? Where are we?” Dad’s (Jack’s) cut through. 

The ghost’s eyes widened. It was his Dad. His Dad! The man who read him bedtime stories and chased away the ‘ghosts’ in the closet and hugged him close when he was scared. (That oaf always ate all the food he’d bought from himself! He made a mess of the dormroom.) 

The ghost whined, clenching his head. It ached with the contradictions. Happiness, relief, pure joy, the love of a child for their parents. Dad had taught him how to tie a tie and had driven him to the movies and took him stargazing. Anger, Hatred, The Longing for vengeance. (He stole the love of his life! He couldn’t obey the most basic laboratory safety!)

“I don’t know.” Mom’s (Maddie’s) voice cut through. She rapidly looked side to side, eyes widening with fear. “How did we get here?”

His Mom, his core sang. His mom. The woman who’d kissed his bo-bos and made him cookies and taught him self defense and took him out for milkshakes. (The most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his eyes on.)

Head throbbing, the ghost doubled over, feeling sick. No. NO! That was wrong. This was wrong. No.

“Ghost!” Dad (the oaf) suddenly yelled.

The sound of feet stomping towards him. “You! Do you bring us here, ghost?”

The ghost looked up, shakingly meeting the woman’s (beautiful) purple eyes. “Yes...no...I..I..” His insides churned, painfully as he shrunk back from her angry glare. This was his mom. She was supposed to be happy to see him. He’d brought her back. Now he could finally steal her from Jack. The ghost growled. “Shut up.”

“What did you say to me?!” Mom glared, pulling an ectogun from her holster.

“Mo-addie.” The ghost cried, his quickly fragmenting mind switching between the two names. He stumbled backwards as Sam and Tucker finally seemed to notice the adults. 

“Mrs. F!” Tucker exclaimed. 

“Mr. Fenton!” Sam shakily stood up, rushing to the man.

“Sam. Tuck.” The ghost whispered. He was shaking, his knees knocking together. It hurt. His insides hurt. This was...he was wrong. This wasn’t...he wasn’t...this didn’t….

Mom...Maddie...Mom continued pointing the gun at him. “Where are we?”

He groaned, falling to his knees. The flame of his hair flickered erratically.

In front of him, Jack...Dad...Jack...had run to the still unconscious Jazz. He shook her roughly and the girl groaned. Sam and Tucker found the pair, helping the older teen sit up. 

“Who are you?” Mom spat out.

Who? Who...he didn’t….

Jazz blinked, taking in her surroundings. She then turned to the side, her eyes falling on his. Her gaze flickered to the emblem on his chest. Her mouth feels open. “Danny?” She whispered.

His mind stopped. Danny? That was (not) his name. Or it had been. (No it wasn’t). It had been his name. No. He...he missed...he missed that name. (That brat, that fool, pathetic). The ghost whined, his insides revolting. His eyes flickered. Red. Green. Red. Green. The black and white on his suit swirled, shifted.

“Danny.” Jazz repeated, more certain.

The ghost nodded. Then he shook his head. Yes. No. Both. Neither. Both….Yes...No...

“What...what’s happening to him?” Tucker asked fearfully.

What was happening?! What was happening?! He wrapped his arms around his middle as if that could hold him together. Maybe….no…

“Never mind that!” Sam hissed. “What happened to us? How did we get here?”

“The last thing I remember is….” Jazz’s eyes widened with shock and pain. “We...we..all of us, we….”

“You all died.” A voice, a new voice behind him, whispered. 

The ghost tensed, stiffening. He shook torn between wanting desperately to look and being terrified (disgusted) with what he’d see because-

“You all...you all died.” The young male voice choked out again.

That voice, it was so familiar. It was...it was...Rapidly, Jazz, Sam, and Tucker looked between the ghost and the figure standing behind him.

Shakily, Jazz stood, her eyes focusing on the speaker behind the ghost. "Danny?" Her eyes flickered to Dark Phantom (?) again. "You're both…. How are you…?" She stuttered, unable to ask the vital question.

But the ghost knew what she was asking. He knew who was behind him but-

"Jazz." Feet shuffled towards him. "You're...you're alive. You're all alive." A whisper. "I'm...I'm alive."

The ghost felt a sensation, so similar, almost like a heart skipping a beat. Shakily, he started to turn. 

It made sense, in a strange way, for him to have brought back his friends and family (but why would he care about Daniel's little friends or that oaf?) A shake of the head. No, stop that. It did make sense. It did. But bringing HIM back?

Another foot step sounded behind, to his left. The ghost's eyes finally met the speaker's eyes, familiar blue eyes.

Danny, Danny Fenton, identical to the the day he died, stood in front of him. The boy stared at him with a complicated expression. Fear, shock, confusion, awe. It was all there. He blinked, lip twitching. "You….you brought me back." 

His core squeezed and pulsed, his form rippling as pain shot through him. Danny Fenton. He'd brought Danny Fenton (himself, his human half; the insolent brat) back to life. Back to life. Because he never should have killed him in the first place. (Why shouldn't he have?) No! He shouldn't have! That was a mistake! A mistake! The pain was supposed to go away when he destroyed his humanity but it did, it didn't! 

His whole body was smoking, cracks forming along his skin. The ache had just grown, gap yawning wider. Instead of being whole, complete, he...they...were two fragments clinging together for stability, for survival. He wasn't supposed to exist like this.

Questions, demands were buzzing around him but there was no registering the words. In front of him, Danny was rapidly backing away, eyes widening with fear.

Danny. Daniel. An arrogant hiss. He missed Danny, he missed being Danny. He missed being alive. No he didn't, that was ridiculous.

"No!" A roar, two voices screaming at once.

The being writhed, hastily made connection tearing. They weren't supposed to exist like this. So they didn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phantom and Plasmius broke apart, flying in opposite directions. The younger ghost skidded across the grass before careening to a stop. He curled in on himself, shaking and whining. 

Around him, alarmed and confused questions rose in volume but he couldn't hear over the brief sound of someone cackling and the sound of his sobs.

Wait, sobs? When had he started crying? He sniffled, a tear falling down his face. Yep, crying. He was crying. He shook, great emotion overcoming him. Horror, sorrow, grief, guilt. He...he remembered everything, all the horrible things he'd done with Plasmius.

"Danny! Danny! Get away from the ghost!" Mom was yelling.

Sneakered feet approached, a lithe figure falling to his knees in front of Phantom. Warm, peach colored hands reached out, grabbing his arms and pulling him into a seated position. 

The emotions intensified, hitting the ghost like a brick wall. A double memory. Killing his human half. Being killed by his ghost half. The first murder of his reign of terror. His botched yet successful suicide. It was excruciating, tearing his soul from both sides.

"I..I…" Phantom gasped, finally meeting the blue eyes through the tears. 

"You and Plasmius...you killed me." Fenton said without accusation.

"I...I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Phantom begged. The words didn't cover it at all, the width and depth of his iniquity, of the travesties he'd committed in his insanity.

"I asked you to." Fenton whispered, looking down guiltily. "I wanted to die." He shifted, pulling Phantom towards him. "Oh god. I shouldn't have split us. I shouldn't have done that."

The ghost didn't resist as Fenton wrapped his arms around him. Instead, he clung to the human as if he would disappear. "I shouldn't...I shouldn't have joined Plasmius. I shouldn't have killed you." His core spasmed, again threatening to fracture under the strain. "I shouldn't...oh god I...I destroyed everything." 

He could barely comprehend what he and Plasmius had done, all he'd been through. And the guilt wared with other feelings at the edge of his perception. Part of him wanted to be hopeful, happy even if it was so abominably selfish. He'd missed being human, being alive. He missed being Danny Fenton. But…. Danny Fenton was in front of him, his still living soul and body pressed up against his chest. He'd brought himself back to life.

And his friends and family. They were behind him. Sam, Tucker, and Jazz were holding his parents back and offering them cursory explanations. For a brief moment, Phantom wondered; how did Jazz know his secret? 

But then the greater issue reared its head. His loved ones didn't know what was going on here. They didn't know the world he'd dragged them into. And now, they didn't need two broken, inconsolable pieces. They needed all of him. They needed Danny.

Phantom breathed, pulling this human self closer as he felt Fenton's agreement. He relaxed, feeling his body become tingling and numb. He let go of tangibly, becoming nothing more than a cloud. He was fog being burned away by the morning light. No, he was a cup of water poured back into the lake he'd come from. He was liquid, spreading out, diffusing into a larger body of water, the newly added molecules indistinguishable from the old. Phantom dissolved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a flash of light. Danny Fenton-Phantom remained frozen on his knees. His arms wrapped around himself as he cried. 

This didn't feel like the last time, with the ghost catcher. Then, when he'd finally come back to himself, there had been relief, the feeling of coming home after a long, tiring day. But now, it still hurt. He was home but he didn't belong here, didn't deserve this. He looked up, heart throbbing with love for his family and friends. He didn't deserve them but they needed him.

Shakily, with great effort, Danny pushed himself to his feet. He met his sister's eyes and she ran to him. Finally the two hugged.

"Jazz." He sniffed.

"Little brother." The girl squeezed him.

"I love you so much." He vowed.

The rest approached, his eyes flickering among each person one at a time. "Sam. Tucker." A pause. Finally. "Mom. Dad."

"Danny." Mom's voice rang with a dozen emotions as she joined the hug. "My baby boy."

"I love you. I love you so much. " Danny repeated as his loved ones surrounded him in an embrace. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I love you. I love you guys. I'm sorry. "

The others muttered much the same, assurances of love and apologies. Danny never wanted it to end but it did as the group pulled apart.

His loved ones looked around, faces pale with worry. Finally Tucker asked. "Dude, what happened here?" 

"Was it the ghosts?" Dad asked, alarmed.

Danny flinched at the words. Guilty, he looked down.

Sam bit her lip. "Was it Plasmius?"

Somehow, the boy curled in on himself even more. "It was me." He muttered.

Danny paled, bracing himself. He expected horror and disgust. Accusation. Hateful sneers. And he would deserve it, all of it. But instead, the group stared at him in disbelief.

"Dude, there's no way." Tucker started.

"You couldn't have done this." Sam denied, perfectly confident.

"I did. It was me." Danny whined. "You all were gone and I was all alone. And I just...I was so angry." He gnawed on his lip. "And I just wanted to stop hurting but it didn't work and I thought…." He trailed off. 

Thinking back, the rationale didn't make sense. He couldn't grasp it, couldn't understand what his, his and Plasmius' motivation had been. The thoughts  seemed to slip through his fingers, refusing to stay in his brain. Danny wasn't sure whether or not that was a good thing.

"It couldn't have been just you." Jazz softly said, drawing him out of his thoughts. Her hand gently wrapped around his arm. "We saw what happened with that blue skinned ghost." She whispered, as if this was a tightly kept secret.

Nervously, Danny’s eyes flickered to his parents who looked confused and deeply troubled. It was actually surprising that they hadn’t pointed the ectogun at him again, not after they apparently saw his ghost and human halves fuse back together. Obviously, his sister or friends explained that to them and they somehow believed it, or were too overwhelmed to really process. But the bigger problem? Everyone saw the fusion of Phantom and Plasmius fall apart. Again, he shivered at the memory of being even a part of that monster.

“So you and Plasmius….” Sam trailed off, nose wrinkling in disgust.

That disgust was justified, the very idea repulsive. But he’d been angry and desperate after the split. He, the Phantom part, had wanted to be stronger. Because if he had been, then maybe everyone wouldn’t have died. He’d been so angry at the older half ghost, for all the shit Vlad had put him through. And he’d been in so much pain. Vlad was so cold, so unfeeling. If he could be like that, if he could just be numb and selfish for once-

Danny couldn’t bear to say any of that, instead changing the subject. “Plasmius, where did he go?” He looked around, seeing no trace of the other ghost. His brow wrinkled in sudden alarm. “And where’s the Gauntlet?”

“Gauntlet?” His mom blinked, brow furrowing at the question.

Jazz frowned. “That glove thing? Plasmius took it, when he flew off.”

Danny’s heart skipped a beat. He flew off. With the Gauntlet. And he hadn’t noticed until now. No one had said anything either. And….the other ghost could do anything with the reality altering item.

Shakily, the half ghost pulled away from his loved ones. “I need to go after him.” With a thought, he summoned the rings around his waist. His parents’ eyes both widened in alarm while the others looked concerned. He ignored the looks, transforming and floating off the ground.

Danny took an unneeded breath, looking around for any sign of Plasmius in the distance. Which direction would he have gone? The boy frowned, considering. But he didn’t know. He’d just have to set off in one direction and hope he could find him and get the Gauntlet back. He looked around, flinching at the destruction. He’d used it to bring his loved ones back but he still needed it to-

Something blue and white appeared on the horizon, rapidly approaching. The half ghost flinched, recognizing the figure. He shifted in the air, floating to stand between his friends and family and the approaching ghost. Taking a fighting stance, Danny balled his fists and lit them with ectoenergy.

Moments later, Plasmius materialized in front of him. “Daniel.” He looked down at the boy distastefully. “I see you’ve managed to pull yourself back together.”

The boy frowned. “Yes.” He warily eyed the Gauntlet clenched in the other ghost’s hands. “What are you gonna do with that?”

The vampiric ghost scowled. He silently floated for a moment, before his form seemed to glitch, flickering like a broken TV.  His face briefly scrunched up in pain, nose wrinkling. Then his expression smoothed out, turning into something forcefully neutral. He heavily dropped the glove at Danny’s feet. “Fix this.”

The boy stared down at the Gauntlet, blinking in confusion. He bent down and grabbed it, tightly holding the object in his hand.

Behind him, Tucker asked. “Why didn’t he just use it? Ow! Sam!” Obviously, the girl had elbowed him.

Plasmius said nothing, still scowling while Danny considered. Why didn’t the man use it himself? The other ghost’s image flickered again, causing him to let out a low hiss of pain.

“You can’t.” Danny finally said, realization hitting him. “You’re too unstable.” 

It was the other reason their dark version stayed together. Both halves would have faded away, destabilizing into ectoplasm within minutes. And there would have been no solution. Phantom had killed his other half. And Plasmius’ was somewhere in Wisconsin, too far away to be of any help now.

“Fix this.” The other ghost growled again, looking at something in the distance.

This time, there was a greater weight to the words. It wasn’t just a request to be stabilized. It was a demand for more. To clean up the rest of the mess they’d made together.

Danny slipped on the glove. Looking down, he pressed the gems in sequence. Fix this. He needed to fix this. He could fix the damage, heal the people he’d hurt, bring back those who were gone. But…. he remembered his loved ones’ haunted expressions. The horror with which they looked around the destitute environment. 

The halfa closed his eyes, knowing what he needed to do. He took a breath and pushed his desire into gems. The world went white.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Danny Fenton woke up in his bed, the remnants of a long nightmare in his mind. The boy groaned, burying his face in his pillow. 

“Danny!” His mom called through the door. “Get up.”

The boy didn’t respond, groaning again. 

At that, the woman opened the door. “Danny. You have to get up. You’re taking the CAT today.”

CAT? His brow furrowed at the information. He was taking the CAT. Slowly, the half ghost sat up. 

“Good.” His mother nodded. “Breakfast is ready downstairs. Go ahead and get dressed.”

After she closed the door, Danny stood. He started getting dressed as she said. His brow still furrowed with confusion. His dream. He’d been dreaming about? He couldn’t quite remember, except it had been horrible. A sense of dread overcame him. And...he needed to fix something. He had to fix something.

Danny pulled on his shirt. He then turned, grabbing his bookbag. It fell open, revealing a manila envelope. Guilt squeezed his heart. The CAT test answers. He picked up the sheet, stuffing it back inside his bag. 

Dread passed through him again, his stomach flopping. He still needed to fix something. But it couldn’t just be about his cheating, right? There was something else.

“Danny! Your father’s going to eat all the bacon if you don’t hurry up.” Mom called.

Danny frowned. Whatever it was, he would figure it out and everything would be okay. Right?

[killugonfan01]

Writing Pt 1

I’ve been fizzing with crossover ideas that have been keeping me awake longer than I should be and I just need somewhere to spill my guts.

First up, I recently fell into the hole that is the Phandom. Used to watch Danny Phantom, but I can’t say for certain I’ve watched all the episodes, it’s been years. I did like Micro Management though, I remember that was good (gee what does it say about the rest of the show that even my child brain managed to latch onto the one episode that had good writing?) At first I doubted I’d write for it, but then the damn plot bunnies decided to overrun me.

First I think of writing four standalone fics for a Harry Potter x Danny Phantom scenario (one for each house) that’ll be under the umbrella series title of Hogwart’s Ghosts (real original I know). I have some bits fleshed out for the Gryffindor and Slytherin Dannys (I made them the most similar in terms of backstory) as well as a vague idea of making sure the different fics will have different set-ups where Danny enters Hogwarts during different parts of canon so I’m not just rewriting the same story 4 times with minor differences. Like, I know the Gryffindor!Danny should be inserted into 5th year, because dissection/vivisection angst + blood quill lover Umbridge? Hello? Obvious choice. Dunno about Slytherin!Danny though, but I figured both Dannys would be mute at the start (so I don’t have to think of dialogue/puns) due to trauma.

And then comes the fact that I haven’t read the Harry Potter books in over 6 years, so the details are a bit fuzzy. But fine, I can roll with it. The most trouble I’m having is with Ravenclaw!Danny since in none of the fics I’ve read has Danny been placed in Ravenclaw. Been thinking of cranking his obsession with space up to 11 to justify it. To be fair, for most of the Dannys, it could be excused that he only allowed a small chunk of his mental shields to drop for the Sorting Hat to sort him, and so I could do author handwaving and say the parts of his personality he showed ended up influencing the different sorting outcomes. That plus the backstory changes to fit the timeline.

Of course, all 4 fics would be operating under the assumption of no PP, no identity reveal, and Ghost King!Danny for funsies. It’s a toss-up whether I’ll let the Hogwarts ghosts know about him though. Oh! And I’d like Sam and Tucker to have more presence than just a token mention at the start, especially in the (more) traumatic instances. 

And then there’s the Boku no Hero Academia x Danny Phantom crossover idea that’s been floating around in my head called Heroic Spirit (not to be confused with Heroes Spirit, that belongs to someone else) where Izuku gets sent back to the Dawn of Quirks.

Sam and Tucker are Meta Users (the name for Quirked individuals at the time in either canon or fanon, I can’t remember) while Danny was your regular quirkless teen whose only fault was being born to the town loons. And then the portal accident happened and he wasn’t the odd one out any longer.

The idea is less developed than the HP x DP crossover, but I do have a general idea of what I want. I kinda want to do some worldbuilding for the Dawn of Quirks Era and what the addition of ghosts means for how Meta Users are viewed (hint: it’s not good for the latter group). I know I want the story to end off where Danny brings Izuku to Clockwork and gets him back to his own time, and Izuku just promises he’ll remember Danny as a hero even if history won’t and just... moving the halfa to tears? Sure Danny wasn’t in the hero (or was it vigilante?) gig for the good PR-it’s a bit late for that honestly, he was just in it because he felt responsible for the portal’s opening, as well as the need to protect people in danger-but having someone who wasn’t his sister or his best friend tell him that he was doing good and giving him validation? Priceless for poor Danny-boy.

I really should finish off my current HxH/AC crossover, or at least get it to a decent temporary stopping point first though...