#youngblood chronices

[omegalomania]

i must confess that the ybc musical has my heart going ba boom

[basslinecal]

i'm sorry ive been gone, depression got the best of me & my other hyperfixations reappeared from the darkness BUT. i saw 5sos live.

it was SO good and i miss them so much. i was alone in the pit and just had a solo party to them i 🫶🏻🫶🏻 idek if anyone will see this but here's my fav video from that night teehee

[tripstitan]

Be Careful Making Wishes in the Dark

Y'know, for a lot of reasons really, especially since, well, in the end everything collides.

Yup, it sure does. Everything, everywhere, is always colliding, on the subatomic and atomic levels. Speaking of, that's how Reggie developed thermokinesis. Monstrous, isn't it? Reggie's childhood spat back out the monster that you see.

*Whistles innocently.* Sometimes, being the only genre-savvy member of a party, or family, is painful. Yup, really painful.

What's worse is, Reggie's an individual with PTSD. The portrayal I use in-narrative is only slightly dramatized, to help get the point across to other readers that might not be aware of subtler symptoms. Much like most of my writing for this series, it's about expressing and representing people who are underrepresented in escapist fantasy literature, or even just in general. Those of us who suffer these issues can still lead full, rich, even adventurous lives, depending on our symptoms, their severity, our coping mechanisms, our support networks, and a lot of other factors. That's why the severity of Reggie's episodes slides up and down a scale a bit, to display that side of chronic illness, and mental unwellness.

The chapter titled "Save Rock" is up for AAoMM over on RoyalRoad, free as always. Wait'll you guys get a load of the next four or five chapter titles, and their content. Let's just say you're in for either a blast from the past, or at the very least, a blast in general. At least one.

[lovelyhan]

— melting point ⟢

rumor has it that icy department head of pledis insurance has something going on with her loyal secretary, wonwoo. well, she does—it's just not the kind of behind-closed-doors business one would expect for them to partake in.

★ FEATURING; secretary!wonwoo x afab!oc

★ WORD COUNT; 12.3k words

★ TAGS; coworkers to lovers, revenge fic, angst, smut

★ WARNINGS; blackmailing, manipulation, mentions of past bullying, graphic sexual content (MINORS DNI)

★ NOTES; hi... it's been forever, hasn't it? i missed tumblr a lot, and have decided to grace the tags with this fic after months of radio silence heheh ! this was a commissioned piece on twt which i tweaked to fit my tumblr audience better! cheers to 5k followers even in my absence t__t you guys are the best!

★ PS; i'm sorry i can't be bothered to dig up my taglist and tag those who filled it up T T

There’s a saying in PLEDIS Insurance that goes: enjoy your coffee early because once the Ice Queen is in, it’ll turn just as cold as she is. 

Of course, the words were merely thrown around in jest. Something that bored employees come up with in the break room whenever they’re careless enough to think their little jokes won’t reach said ice queen’s ears. But still—they’re just jokes. As long as they worked enough to satisfy their salaries’ worth, Emma the Ice Queen would always turn a blind eye. She might be cold, but she isn’t completely heartless.

Most of the time.

“Good morning, ma’am,” her secretary, Wonwoo, greeted with a curt nod as she entered her office. 

Emma scoffed before setting her things down on her work desk, the frown on her face only worsening when she sees the elegantly wrapped gift box in front of her. “What's this?” 

Wonwoo swallowed thickly, like he was nervous. Wonwoo never gets nervous.

“We have an...unforeseen circumstance,” he prefaced before tapping away on the iPad in his arms. “Sir Leo from the Choi group wants to pursue you.”

“Unforeseen?” Emma repeated. “Wonwoo, this is completely foreseen. Isn't it our from the start is to make them fall in love, only for us to expose their dirty secrets in the end?”

He looked as if he wanted to agree. But after turning the screen of his iPad so Emma could see the article written on some shoddy newsletter, her brows furrowed together in confusion.

A Race for the Inheritance: How the Choi Group’s Next Generation of Ambitious Youngbloods Will Do Everything to Get Their Fill of Old Money. 

The title itself didn’t give Emma much context of what exactly was making Wonwoo—her ever-composed secretary—lose his composure. It’s natural to see the sons and daughters of a powerful business conglomerate fight each other for their rights to the family inheritance. But after reading through what the rest of the article had to offer, the pieces of the puzzle suddenly started to fit.

“They're seeing who gets to get married first?” Emma laughed incredulously before handing the iPad back to Wonwoo. “Does Leo really think he can get me to become his lover—even more so his wife—after everything he did to me in high school?”

Wonwoo breathed in deeply. “Miss Emma, we both know the answer to that. If it were all up to you, you could easily put him to shame and reject him. But his interests somewhat align with the director’s interests as well…”

Ah. Her father’s interests.

“No,” she answered sharply. “Even if he kicks me out of my position, I’m not going to be wed to that prick.”

“Are you sure about that?” Wonwoo sighed before adjusting his glasses. “Miss Emma, we both know you love your work more than anything. And you're chronically attached to this company even if you despise the executives. Sir Leo has good leverage over you, sad to say.”

There was something irritating about hearing Wonwoo call his ex-best friend Sir, as if he was underneath some scumbag of a human being like Leo. But then again, years have passed since then. Lots of things have changed. 

But Emma’s grudges hold steadfast, still.

“Hmph, whatever.” She dismissed the matter with a nonchalant wave before unwrapping the gift box in front of her. “Was this from Leo, too? Is he on a deadline or something?”

“Hmm, first one that gets married before December gets the rights to the inheritance,” Wonwoo informed her as he picked the clutter of ribbons off Emma’s desk and pocketed them in his coat for later disposal. “Do you want me to look up the progress of his siblings and cousins? We can sabotage him while it's still early.”

Emma didn’t respond right away—preoccupied with unwrapping Leo's so-called gift. But when she sees a red velvet box with an engagement ring and a folded letter inside, she begrudgingly realized that Leo wouldn’t be as easy a target as her other high school bullies.

No, this man really was rotten to the core.

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you already heard the news. You know what to do, right, Emma?

Or should I say, wifey? ;)

“Send this back to him. Now.”

Wonwoo nodded obediently as Emma pushed Leo's cursed gift box away from her. “Alright. Anything else I can do for you? Like…have someone plant a snake in his bedroom or something?”

Despite the sour mood that Leo undoubtedly put her in this morning, Wonwoo's little idea of a joke made the corners of her mouth turn up into a small smile. The offer was tempting, but in the end, she shook her head and booted up the PC on her desk instead.

“As much as I want his death by a snake bite to headline the news, Leo doesn’t deserve to get out of this the easy way.” Emma muttered as she started browsing through the hard-drive she’d hooked up onto the computer. “And lucky for us, I finally got the evidence to send his suspiciously prosperous career down into a spiral.”

Wonwoo raised an eyebrow before taking a peek behind her. “What's that? Money laundering records? Tax fraud?” 

No. It was really something as simple as—

“Footage of a mass orgy he participated in,” Emma casually told her secretary as she clicked on the only video on the hard drive. “Might not look like a big deal compared to what we had to go through with Ezra, but Leo belongs to a family of devout Catholics. Good thing your contact from Leo's favorite bar had some use. All I did was ask around and he quickly spilled all the details with the right amount of money.”

Wonwoo chuckled as he flashed her an impressed look. “As far as I know, I’m the one who’s supposed to do the dirty work for you. Why are you directly involving yourself in matters you can leave to me?” 

The lewd video continued to play on her screen—muted, of course—and one could easily make out Leo Choi's face amongst the crowd of sex-depraved freaks. Once they sent this over anonymously to each and every person who might think that scumbag deserved to inherit his family’s wealth, it would be all over for him.

“‘Cause we’re a team, Wonwoo,” she chuckled. “You’ve done your fair share of work when we took down Gavin and Ezra. But admittedly…I've got more bones to pick with Leo. I think it’s only fair for me to orchestrate his downfall with my own two hands.”

“Right…” Wonwoo agreed with a hint of fondness in his tone that completely went over Emma’s head—far too triumphant with her newfound ammunition. 

“We’re a team.”

But it wasn’t always that way.

Wonwoo was actually more deeply involved in Emma’s mission to exact revenge on the people who’ve wronged her years ago than one would otherwise expect. He’d been best friends with Leo since they were kids, and when they eventually met Gavin and Ezra in their high school basketball team, the four of them were quite inseparable. 

But despite being his best friend, Wonwoo knew that Leo could be quite…off-putting with his behavior sometimes.

“Hey, look at that,” Sixteen year-old Leo scoffed before gesturing towards the loud girl earning amused stares in the cafeteria. “She's so fucking loud. Is she the new transfer student?”

Gavin snickered as he took a bite out of his lunch. “How'd she even get in here? Our tuition isn't a joke, and she doesn't really look like she can afford it. The kid of a maid, maybe?”

“Or she could be one of those financial scholarship kids,” Ezra pitched in with a shrug. “Though she doesn't look very bright if we're being honest.”

Wonwoo didn’t offer anything to the conversation, merely eating his food quietly as his friends talked smack about the new transfer student in their class. Emma Rodriguez was like a piece of meat thrown into a pit of vipers. Some might like her—like the classmates who were howling with laughter because of her antics—but others looked at her with disdain. 

She didn’t belong to any wealthy well-known families like every other kid in their grade. The girl simply popped out of nowhere like an eyesore, according to Leo. Wonwoo didn’t really mind her presence though. She made the boring monotone of his school days a bit more bearable with her energy.

But what Wonwoo thought was just his friends’ surface-level dislike for a girl who behaved differently from the others in their grade turned out to be something else.

Something worse.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew what bullying was, and was well-aware that what his friends constantly did to Emma wasn’t something that normal high schoolers did. Leo was the most vicious about it, and Wonwoo never really got to know his reasons for doing all those horrible things. 

But whenever they spotted Emma horsing around in the hallways, Leo would always be the first one to come up to her—calling her names like fraud, gold digger, and the like. Gavin and Ezra followed each and every time, and they were usually the ones who pushed her around for no real reason.

And Wonwoo? Wonwoo was the one who always stood a few feet away every time his friends decided they were in the mood to pick on the transfer student. The one who always stayed quiet and pretended nothing unsightly was happening in front of him.

The one whose gaze Emma always tried to silently catch, hoping he’d be the one to stop his friends from harassing her. 

But he never did.

That cycle of three boys bullying a once bright and bubbly transfer student became commonplace. Before their third year in high school came to a close, Emma suddenly vanished off the radar. She didn’t attend their classes, nor was she there in the completion ceremonies at the end of every school year. 

Most of the kids around Wonwoo didn’t really give two shits about her sudden disappearance. Word around the street was that she transferred out because of the heavy harassment she was getting, not just from his friends, but also the rest of the students from their grade. They didn’t think Emma was funny because of her silly antics and loud jokes anymore.

Everyone started to collectively think of her as a nuisance, and the fact that she had no familial connections to protect herself with only fed into the senseless yet oh-so popular trend of crushing Emma Rodriguez’s hopes and dreams into the ground.

It was almost like Wonwoo was the only person in their entire grade who felt the tiniest bit of pity for her. But he told himself long ago that someone like him had no right to feel sorry for someone he never bothered trying to help. 

The years passed by in a flash. After Emma’s disappearance, Wonwoo quit the basketball team and  completely cut off his friends and everyone else who actively hurt her. He didn’t really know why either—all he knew was that he couldn’t stomach the idea of keeping those connections despite what they drove Emma to do. 

Of course, he knew he wasn’t completely innocent either. But it wasn’t too late to be a decent person, right?

Wonwoo simply went through the motions of graduating high school, then college, before pursuing a career in the vicious world of the corporate hierarchy. But instead of gunning for executive positions like his fellow fresh grads dared to dream, he worked his way up without using his family’s prestige to his own advantage. 

In fact, Wonwoo realized he liked working closely with his bosses. That’s why he became the designated secretary to all the finance department heads who walked through the doors of PLEDIS Insurance. He was content with being a jack-of-all-trades kind of guy who’s at the beck and call of someone else—a tool who worked on the sidelines. He never really wanted to be the face of any company anyway.

But then, in his fifth year on the job, he was told that there were a couple of changes in PLEDIS’ executive board. The boss he’d been working under was set to retire and he’d be replaced with a new one—someone younger and full of promise, as the head of human resources dramatically explained to him. 

It wasn’t really a deal breaker or anything. As long as Wonwoo got paid, he’d gladly work for even the most terrible of people in this industry.

But on the day his new boss was set to start, he was haunted by a ghost from the past instead.

Wonwoo hasn’t spared a single thought for Emma Rodriguez in God knows how long. Yet the moment she stepped into the office, he recognized her almost immediately. There was no trace of that girl people called gold digger and other derogatory names because of her appearance. This was a woman with her head held high—someone who oozed confidence in every stride with a gaze sharper than her winged eyeliner. 

Yet Wonwoo couldn’t be mistaken. This really was Emma Rodriguez.

He wondered if she remembered him, too. The boy who kept quiet about those who bullied her in those few crucial years of her life. Wonwoo even considered apologizing for not doing anything to help her when he should have. 

“Ah, Wonwoo Jeon?” Emma repeated his name with a dismissive air, almost like she was wholly uninterested in him. “The one who just watched when Gavin Kim pushed me in the muddy courtyard at school? The one who pretended not to see when Leo Choi splashed paint all over my uniform? Of course I remember you.”

God. Was this her exacting retribution?

For the next few days since she came into the office, Wonwoo helped Emma get used to the feel of things in the Finance Department. At least, that was his intention. 

From the looks of it, Emma already knew the ins-and-outs of managing a company’s cash inflow and outflow, as well as the other gritty, more technical details that came with accounting for each and every cent. She managed to prepare and present several sets of data that his previous boss had trouble organizing to the current board of directors within two days’ time. 

Her work ethic was admirable—she got the job done quickly and efficiently, and that made her earn the respect of her subordinates faster than Wonwoo had seen them warm up to their previous bosses. It would have been the perfect relationship between the new department head and her employees, if it weren’t for Emma’s stone cold behavior towards other people. 

Not only did she look different from the Emma he knew in high school, but she acted differently too. Wonwoo couldn’t picture this Emma purposely making a fool out of herself just to make the people around her laugh. This Emma wanted the entire team to get the work handed to them done as soon as possible, and if they did, the most they’d receive in return is a mere nod in approval and nothing else.

It was for that reason that employees would start calling her the Ice Queen. Though she wasn’t some tyrant that gave people an unreasonable workload—she was actually very lenient and fair about the division of tasks—her people skills needed a little work. 

That or Emma was purposely shutting everyone out with her chilly attitude. 

Wonwoo had a few clues as to why she’d want to do that, but he’s a secretary, not a therapist. The only thing he could do about it was to keep his silence.

But then came a day when Emma asked him to come into her office to do something he completely expected from her but didn’t at the same time.

“Are you still in touch with Leo, Gavin, and Ezra?” she asked him, not even bothering to look up from the report she’s reading off her PC.

The question caught Wonwoo off-guard and it was obvious Emma caught on to his reaction if the tiny smirk that curved across her lips was anything to go by. Still, he took it in stride—breathing in through his nose as he thought about his answer.

He hasn’t been in touch with any of them since his high school graduation. All their attempts at reaching out to Wonwoo to invite him for a quick game of ball or a round of drinks somewhere in the city were all ignored. Not even turned down—ignored. 

Leo was the most persistent about it. After all, they were best friends. But after several years of Wonwoo not even bothering to give their invites a single glance, Leo stopped reaching out altogether. Wonwoo's life became a lot more peaceful since he cut ties with them, and he never really regretted the decision to do so. 

But perhaps the universe really was telling him to pay the price for his past inaction now that Emma was bringing up the past on a regular Wednesday afternoon. 

“No, ma’am,” he told her honestly. “Do you want me to reach out to them? Their contact details are pretty easy to get our hands on.”

Emma sighed quietly before meeting his gaze, an unreadable look hovering across her face. “Mmm. Yeah, I’d like that. But aren't you going to ask why I want to contact them again?”

He wanted to, but Wonwoo learned that in his line of work, the last thing he should do was ask questions. It made him wonder if Emma was purposely setting him up on some sort of conversational bear trap, but seeing as he didn’t really have anything to lose by giving, he chose to relent. 

“...Why?”

The silence of her office rang in his ears as Emma typed away on her keyboard. It was a mechanical one with tactile switches that matched the color of her desktop wallpaper. He didn’t take her to be someone who cared enough about aesthetics to that degree, but then again, Wonwoo never really got a chance to get to know her back then. 

He was too much of a coward to do so.

Once she was done, Emma got up from her ergonomic chair (which also matched her desktop setup), leveling her gaze with Wonwoo's even if the latter was easily a head taller than she was. Something about the glint in her eyes made him swallow the lump in his throat. Not to mention that sweet yet chilly smile that graced her bright red lips.

“It’s really simple, Wonwoo,” she told him with a laugh. 

“I want revenge.” 

And that’s how their little team was formed.

It was a two-person job. Emma entrusted Wonwoo with digging up the information she needed about the three men she wanted to bring down, all while she was in charge of putting their plans into motion by heading over to the front lines. 

Gavin was an easy target. Unlike the other two, he’s the only one who pursued professional basketball and for a while, he amassed quite the number of fans and admirers because of his outstanding plays. What’s more was that he managed to wife up a beauty queen who’s already conquered the international stage a few years back. Now with their first baby on the way, one would think that Gavin Kim has a picture perfect life.

But further down the road, talk about how he’s actually a womanizing wife beater started to seep out of the cracks and crevices of the athletic industry. The allegations were serious, but no one really bothered batting an eye. It’s normal. Lots of athletes are like that. We can't do anything about it.

It was easy to get a hold of which gym Gavin frequents to maintain his physique. He preferred working out in public facilities instead of the one provided for his team because it gave him all the freedom to ogle and flirt with other women who just happened to be hitting the gym on days he was on the prowl. 

Wonwoo even added a little footnote in the file he prepared that said likes to engage in post-workout coitus in the shower rooms. Emma rolled her eyes in disgust when she read it, but made sure to keep it in mind.

The day finally came when she’d collect enough evidence to ruin Gavin’s career. Emma hasn’t dropped by the gym in a while—work having sapped her energy too much to let her psych herself back into working out. But she realized she didn’t have to act out too much because the moment she started operating the treadmill right next to Gavin’s, he was already checking her out.

He didn’t seem to recognize who she was, unlike Wonwoo. But then again Gavin was easily the stupidest out of her trio of high school bullies. This man was all brawn and no brains, which was why it was all too easy for Emma to seduce him in the showers of this shoddy gym not thirty minutes since she’d arrived.

It wasn’t the most pleasant experience. The last thing Emma wanted was to have this idiotic man inside of her so she offered to go on her knees and blow him instead—something that Gavin was all too happy to relent to. 

He didn’t even boast a cock of considerable size. It probably wasn’t any longer than her middle finger, and for a split second, she wondered why his beauty queen wife stayed with him despite having a cock that didn’t back up his cocky attitude. It was probably the money.

Emma didn’t waste much time though. Wonwoo visited this gym only a few hours prior to plant a bug somewhere inside the specific shower stall they were currently occupying. She just had to hope she and Gavin were positioned well enough so the camera would get a full view of what they were doing. 

It was the longest twenty minutes of Emma’s life, and she had to go home right away to disinfect her mouth about ten times, but hey. All in the name of vengeance, right?

At around eight in the evening on that same Saturday, her phone lit up with an email notification from Wonwoo. 

From: Wonwoo Jeon  Subject: CLASSIFIED Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well. I retrieved our bug from the gym earlier today and extracted the videos taken before properly disposing of it. Attached to this email is the MP4 file of our evidence against Mr. Gavin Kim. Around the time this message arrives to you, I have simultaneously sent said evidence to Mr. Kim’s managers, sponsors, teammates, other colleagues, and of course, his wife.  The only difference between their emails and yours is that this is a self-destructing message. Once you’ve closed this window, it will be deleted from your inbox without a trace. So if you are interested in watching the video below, best save it to your device of choice for better perusal. If you have any further questions and concerns, I am merely a text message away.  Regards,  Wonwoo Jeon Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department PLEDIS Insurance 

Like hell she was going to watch it.

The moment Emma finished reading through Wonwoo's overly formal email, she quickly exited the window and, true to his word, the message itself had disappeared. Despite being a fairly new player to the game, she had to commend all the precautions Wonwoo was setting to make sure her plans were a success. 

It made her wonder if his previous bosses have also asked him to do shady things under the company’s nose in the past. Whether or not that's true, she was reaping the benefits of his expertise, so she had no room for complaints. 

As long as she had Wonwoo, she’d get to punish everyone who wronged her without fail.

Gavin’s downfall followed soon after. 

Tabloids were their best friend in that scenario. The thumbnail of the video that Wonwoo spread around like some virus that wouldn’t stop replicating headlined every single paper, talking about how one of the most promising basketball stars of their generation had fallen prey to his own vices.

It was a good thing that not only was Wonwoo careful enough to not leave digital footprints as he sent out those emails, but he also edited the video to keep Emma’s identity a secret. As Gavin’s world started to crumble before his eyes—him being kicked off the starting roster of the team, his wife leaving him behind, and the public execution of his reputation—Emma simply shared a bottle of aged wine from Tuscany with the man who helped her pull off a wonderful performance.

“You’re not too bad,” she mused as she took a small sip, crossing her legs from where she’s seated unceremoniously on the edge of her desk. “You're surprisingly more on-board with this plan than I thought. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were never friends with Gavin in the first place.” 

Wonwoo retained his stoic demeanor, not having touched the glass Emma offered him simply because it was against company regulations to intoxicate himself on the job. “If my boss tells me to ruin someone's life, I'm mandated to do it. I’m just doing what’s written on my job description, ma’am.”

Emma’s lips stretched into a grin as she threw her head back with a laugh. She leaned in closer to Wonwoo, who seemed wholly unfazed by the fact that the gesture granted him an ample view of her cleavage through her blouse. 

“Does your job description cover watching and editing your boss' sex scandal so you can mass send it to hundreds of people?” She giggled before leaning back to take another sip of her drink. “You’re in the green for now, Wonwoo. Keep it up and I might just have a pay raise arranged for you with HR if our next escapade is a success.”

He hummed in understanding. “Who’s next?”

In usual Emma fashion, she didn’t give him a straight answer right away. Instead, she hopped back to the carpeted floor of her office—not even wobbling in those thin heels she’s wearing—before rounding her desk to access her computer. 

“Have you been watching TV lately? Primetime soap operas?” she asked him as she clicked away on her screen. 

Wonwoo shook his head. “They don’t really interest me, ma’am.”

“I figured they wouldn’t. But this might.”

Emma gestured for him to peer at her monitor and Wonwoo wordlessly followed suit, getting up from his seat and standing behind her. Flashed on the screen was an article from a more reputable news outlet that featured two co-stars who played the main couple in a popular network’s newest drama. 

“Ezra Lee and Alaina Park…” Wonwoo muttered under his breath before his eyes flickered to Emma. “You have any leads I can work with?”

His boss chuckled before looking up at him with an expectant smile. “Someone's determined. I never thought I’d get to see someone so eager to do the dirty work for me.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Miss Emma, I'm not sure if you're aware but desk work gets boring sometimes. You’re right. This is a lot more interesting.”

“Alright, then,” Emma chuckled before retrieving both of their wine glasses and handing Wonwoo's back to him. “Unlike Gavin, I don't have a lot of surface-level leads with Ezra. He’s a celebrity—their reputation needs to be squeaky clean, so it makes sense why I can’t dig up anything about him through regular means. But this should be a piece of cake for you, right?”

Wonwoo stared at the bright red liquor inside the expensive glass, gaze darting to the wicked smile playing on Emma’s lips. If he looked a little closer, he would be able to tell that the shade of her lipstick matches the color of the liquor in her hands. 

He took it from her grasp with a sigh, clinking the edges of their glasses together before downing the entire thing in one fell swoop. The wine was aged well, and had somewhat of a sweet aftertaste, but despite the appealing flavor, Wonwoo reminded himself to never drink on the job ever again. 

“I’ll get back to you once I have the information you need.”

Wonwoo swiftly left Emma’s office after that little victory party. Even with his new sideline of being his boss’s lead henchman, he still had a lot of work to do for PLEDIS Insurance. And that included telling the other employees to quit horsing around in the break room when their designated lunch break ended hours ago.

“Sir Wonwoo,” one of said employees, Soonyoung, snickered before throwing an arm over Wonwoo's shoulders. “You've been hanging out in Miss Emma's office pretty frequently. Is there something going on? You became close real quickly.”

“Yeah” said one Seokmin, who’s still snacking on a wafer despite Wonwoo's scolding. “Boss, we know you're not the fuck-your-way-up kind of guy, but who knows, right? But with your position right now, do you really need it?”

Seungkwan, the last member of their unruly trio, slapped Seokmin’s arm with a scowl. “Hey! Do you really have to say it to his face? Oh, boss, if you make a report about these two, please know I have nothing to do with whatever they're saying.”

Soonyoung snickered. “Are you sure about that? Weren't you the one who first noticed that Sir Wonwoo was stepping inside Miss Emma's office more frequently—”

“Hey! Boss told us to scram, didn't he?! Let's go.”

Seungkwan quickly ushered his two friends out of the break room, scolding them in a hushed tone before they all went back to their respective cubicles. Wonwoo shook his head with a sigh, muttering something about inevitable rumors as he made himself a cup of coffee.

Was that how they perceived Wonwoo’s sudden closeness with the department head? That he was fucking Emma in the solitude of her office? Well, the idea of a boss having illicit relations with their secretary wasn’t too far-fetched. He’s heard about how the head of the Advertising Department gets frisky with his secretary through the corporate grapevine. But just because it was a popular trope among the employees’ strange fantasies, it didn’t mean it applied to himself and Emma as well.

They were strictly professional: he did the dirty work and she paid him in full. That was all there was to it.

(But what people don’t know was that editing Gavin’s scandal wasn’t exactly the walk in the park Emma thought it was.

Despite being one of the most indifferent people in the company, Wonwoo was still a man. Seeing his boss, whose body would be coveted by anyone who dared to want her, in such a compromising position excited an…unexpected physiological reaction out of him.

His resolve was as sturdy as steel, however. Instead of taking care of the obvious problem in his pants as he edited the scandalous video, Wonwoo dealt with it by taking a long, cold shower until all the blood that rushed down south started circulating properly again.

He told himself not to think about it come morning.)

“A drug den?”

Even Emma was baffled by the news that Wonwoo brought her the following week—a scowl of disbelief permanently etched on her face as she scanned the file her secretary prepared for her. Wonwoo merely stood at her side, waiting for her to finish going through the data he’s gathered. 

And he sure hoped she understood every single word printed on it. He practically risked his life trying to investigate Ezra’s secret business. No wonder it was so hard to dig up any dirt on him—dead men tell no tales after all.

“This is…” Emma swallowed thickly before continuing, “way above my expectations. If he was just getting faded on his own with a private dealer, I'd understand. Lots of celebrities do recreational drugs. But for him to head an entire operation? Where'd he find the time on top of his taping schedules?” 

Wonwoo sighed. “I would’ve been able to investigate further if his men weren't so meticulous. They're fiercely loyal to Ezra. Couldn’t bribe him like we did with Gavin’s gym coach.” 

“And you made sure to keep your identity under lockdown?”

“Positive.”

Emma drummed her fingers across the smooth surface of her work desk—brows furrowed as she stared into nothingness. Though they’ve only been working together for roughly six months at most, Wonwoo knew her well enough to realize she hit a wall.

It made him wonder if this was where she would draw the line. Their success with Gavin gave them both an unexpected high, sure, but Wonwoo recognized that this game they were playing was a dangerous one. The people they were trying to take down had more money and connections than the two of them could ever hope to get their hands on. 

But one thing that he failed to recognize right away about Emma was that she’s always been grossly ambitious. 

“The file you gave me also mentioned na he was hoping to insure his new house in Incheon,” she pointed out. “Care to tell me why you decided to include that?”

“I know you told me not to involve the company in this as much as we can, but I couldn’t think of any other way to penetrate into his circle.” Wonwoo adjusted his necktie, suddenly feeling like he’s being watched by the hawk that was his boss. “I’ve been told that he’s wary of people. Side effects of the cocaine, probably. Though the info broker sounded like he was joking, it’s best to be wary of him. If he can hide behind the protection of his management and his family, we need to play our cards right and protect ourselves, too.”

Emma took a moment to process what her secretary just told her, nodding slowly before closing the folder containing Ezra’s file and locking it inside a hidden drawer beneath her desk. 

“Oh, Wonwoo. If only all men were as intelligent as you are,” she sighed, getting up from her seat before pinching his face. “Good work. Let's go out for drinks later. My treat.”

Wonwoo's face twisted with confusion. “For what? Doing my job?”

Emma rolled her eyes. “For going above and beyond every single time. You think you're only good at doing dirty work? At being my errand boy? You never fall behind your quotas here in the office either, you know. I think that in itself is a cause for celebration.”

Now that she’s reasoned it out, Wonwoo was even more weirded out by this strange turn of events. In the six months that Emma Rodriguez has spent as the head of PLEDIS Insurance’s Finance head, she never failed to uphold that arctic cold façade. She treated both executives and regular employees with the same degree of cut-throat harshness. 

And that’s when Wonwoo realized that she didn’t really treat him the way she treated them.

Huh. Did the Ice Queen have a melting point after all?

Despite his extensive protests, however, Wonwoo let Emma rope him into grabbing dinner and drinks at a food hub several districts away from their office. The fewer people who could recognize them outside, the better. Of course, he pleaded and reminded her several times that she was his boss and she really didn’t have to—

“Hey! Keep drinking!” Emma slurred with a huff, face red from the alcohol as she pushed another pint of beer into Wonwoo's face. “Why aren't you drunk yet, huh, Wonwoo Jeon? Are you God? Maybe that's why you're so good at obtaining information for me. Ah! No! Maybe you're the devil! Right, what we're doing isn't exactly good nor is it legal…”

Wonwoo exhaled long and hard as his boss continued blabbering nonsense across from him at their shared table. One glance at the smartwatch on his wrist told him that it was near midnight and that he should probably bring Emma home before she could make a scene. 

But…maybe they could stay for a few minutes more.

“Miss Emma? Are you sleepy?”

“Hm? Why would I be sleepy? We're drinking, aren't we?” 

“You're half-asleep on the table, so.”

At the prospect of being called out, Emma quickly shot into an upright position—looking around to see if anyone caught her drooling. When she realized she was in the clear, she narrowed her eyes at Wonwoo.

“Not a word about this in the office,” she warned, using one of the finished barbecue sticks on their empty plates to threaten him. “But...yeah. Alcohol makes me sleepy. Drive me home.”

Not even a please. This woman was really shameless even when drunk.

Not a peep of complaint was heard from Wonwoo when he drove Emma all the way to her condo unit in uptown Poblacion. Though he had to practically carry her inside and even help her out of her clothes and into her pajamas (at her request, not his own initiative), he simply told himself this was all part of his job. 

When his boss was safely tucked in bed, he was ready to bid her farewell and head back to his own place to catch up on some sleep. But for someone who was intoxicated beyond belief, Emma was still quite aware of her surroundings. The moment Wonwoo took a step away from her bed, her hand shot out to grab ahold of his wrist, making Wonwoo look back at her with an eyebrow raised.

“Wonwoo,” she murmured, face still smothered in her pillows despite her tight grip. “Can you stay?” 

“There's nowhere for me to sleep,” he chuckled. “I should go.”

“Then sleep next to me.”

The furrow on his brow merely deepened. He’d ask her to repeat what she said, but Wonwoo could recognize that Emma wasn’t really in the headspace to be reasonable right now. So instead of refuting her wish, Wonwoo carefully pried her fingers off his wrist so he could take off his work coat and fold it neatly on top of her vanity table.

This is all part of the job, he told himself.

Wonwoo laid on his boss’ duvet perfectly still. He didn’t want to make the mistake of touching her when he didn’t have explicit permission to do so. He was merely told to sleep next to her after all—nothing else.

But about fifteen minutes after he lied next to her, Emma shifted on her side of the bed—turning to him with a sleepy look in her eyes.

“You know,” she whispered, so softly, he would’ve missed it if he wasn’t as observant as he was. “I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.”

Emma probably won’t remember what she mumbled in her drunken stupor in the morning. But the sadness and honesty that underlined her words sent him back about ten years into the past. To a time when he was a much greater evil than those who directly wronged her.

An apology sizzled across the tip of his tongue—something that’s a decade overdue. But before Wonwoo could hope to let her hear his piece, Emma’s breathing had become even and shallow. 

She was already fast asleep.

He sighed, staring up at the dainty ceiling of her bedroom as he chuckled helplessly to himself.

“That’s why I’m making up for it now.”

If Gavin’s case was a walk in the park, Ezra’s was an Olympic-level marathon.

Wonwoo didn’t want to dwell on the details anymore. To cut it short: he was going to cross out ‘exposing a notorious drug lord’ off his bucket list without thinking of doing it again ever. While he managed to get out unscathed during his investigation, it just so happened that their final altercation with Ezra ended up putting Wonwoo in the hospital. 

But so what if he fractured a couple of ribs trying to save Emma from being killed by that drug-addicted lunatic? As long as their goal to bring Emma’s enemies down was achieved, he’d gladly sustain any life-threatening injuries.

Which was, admittedly…strange. 

Long before Emma came into the picture as his boss, Wonwoo never would’ve pictured himself risking his neck for the benefit of someone else. Though he had an entire arsenal of skills and knowledge at his disposal, it would take more than just his generous salary to get him to put them to good use.

But with Emma, he found himself utilizing whatever means to help her exact her revenge—on people he once called his friends, much less.

He must be going insane. 

“Wonwoo…?”

Funnily enough, he ended up recalling everything that happened over the past two weeks first before recognizing that he was just regaining consciousness in the intensive care unit. Wonwoo's eyes hurt because of how bright the fluorescent lights were overhead, but for some reason, he didn’t flinch away from her relieved smile when it was a million watts brighter than the hospital’s indoor lighting.

“Good…day, ma’am,” he croaked out awkwardly, belatedly realizing that he didn’t know what time it was. “What day is it? Did someone fix your schedule for today? Did someone go over your meal plans in my stead? Were you—”

His endless stream of questions was interrupted by hacking fit—making Emma scramble for a glass of water on the table by his hospital bed, a concerned look lining her gaze.

“Don't talk too much,” she scolded him as he finished his drink. “You’ve been out for two days, idiot.”

Two days? 

Needless to say, he couldn’t do a thing about it once his boss started fussing over him. She called over doctors she personally knew and handpicked only the most competent of nurses to look after Wonwoo. How Emma could be the judge of that, Wonwoo wasn’t very sure, but he gladly let her take care of him for a change. 

After all, they successfully concluded another chapter in Emma’s little revenge story.

“When are we going to start with Leo?”

Wonwoo brought the matter up about three days after he woke up, right in the middle of eating the stale hospital food served to him for dinner. Emma, who was snacking on some takeout fast food, hummed before tossing a french fry into her mouth.

“You're not even healed yet, and you're thinking about work?” she sighed before pointing a fry in his direction. “I’m still paying you your regular wage even if you're stuck here. You don’t have to worry about making ends meet so much, Wonwoo. You just need to rest—”

“But I don’t want to rest, I want to be useful to you,” he interrupted her gruffly, which was strange of him because he never interrupted his employers. 

For a moment, Wonwoo thought he’d be on the receiving end of a verbal lashing even if he was still recovering. Emma never let other people talk back to her without consequences. But instead, his boss threw her head back with a laugh that bordered on a snort. It’s a look that Wonwoo had seen on her time and time again—a look that he noticed Emma only showed to him. 

Back then, he didn’t really think of her smile all that much. But now…

“You’re being useful enough just by being alive, Jeon,” she reassured him, that grin of hers unwavering. “Enough questions about Leo. I'm not even thinking about him yet because compared to the previous two? He’s a lot easier to track down.”

Wonwoo shot her a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

“Same approach lang with Ezra.” She flashed him a toothy smile. “We’re going to get him to insure some of his properties under PLEDIS. But instead of us going to him, he'll be going to us instead.”

“I…? Sorry, ma’am. I don’t follow.”

Emma stifled a soft laugh behind her palm, unwrapping the burger included in her takeout meal before taking a bite of considerable size. “The Choi Corporation is expanding a chain of shopping malls somewhere in Jeju. Leo Choi personally contacted our CEO and there we have it: another big shot client.”

Another person to drag down to hell.

“Is that good enough for you?” 

Wonwoo was still processing the news as they both finished up their respective meals. He should probably be glad that Emma didn’t decide to put their secret operation on hold just because he was out of commission. But something about how smoothly they’re progressing into the next phase of Emma’s big revenge plan that made him wary of treading any further. 

He felt like he was being paranoid—probably the aftermath of almost crossing to the other side because of what happened with the Ezra incident. Wonwoo couldn’t help but be wary of any and all threats to both his life and Emma’s, and it was for a good reason.

“Okay,” Wonwoo breathed, wincing a little when he felt the spot where his ribs broke ache at how fast he inhaled. “What do you want me to do for now? Investigate? Trace his whereabouts?”

Emma’s smile suddenly turned ice cold. “I want you to rest, Wonwoo. Do I have to keep repeating myself?”

“But—”

“No buts. Boss’ orders—I'm your boss, right?” 

Ah, there’s the Ice Queen they all knew and loved. 

Fine. Maybe he could use a break from all that quote-unquote field work he just did. But one thing about his entire hospitalization still remained unanswered.

“What did you tell HR? About…this?” Wonwoo gestured towards his battered but healing body. “You’ve got the charisma, but I’m pretty sure it’s difficult even for you to go into cahoots with the other employees of PLEDIS. Much more, our human resources head.”

Emma waved away his concerns with a shake of her head. “You're so persistent, aren't you? Don’t think about HR. Or Leo. Or the rest of our plans. Can’t you be a normal salaryman and be happy that you have a break from all the things I make you do?”

“I told you, Miss Emma. I just want to make myself useful.”

“And I told you that you're the least useful in your current state. So give. It. A. Rest,” she threatened, putting emphasis on every syllable. 

But behind her intimidating façade was someone who actually cared for him. The details were still a bit muddled in Wonwoo's head, but he remembered being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance. Remembered how Emma never let go of his hand as they made the trip all the way. And how he heard her pray for him to make it out alive despite being a well-known agnostic.

Once their conversation had mellowed down, he laid back against the steady elevation of his bed, watching the scenic city lights glimmer outside the window of his hospital room—just behind the woman who made his life a lot more interesting.

He couldn’t wait to be useful to her again.

“I hate this. I fucking hate this so much.”

Wonwoo spared his employer a quick glance as she practically glared at her reflection in the full-length mirror. He’d been browsing through a sports car catalog tucked underneath the hotel’s coffee table, but watching Emma have a furious meltdown about her wedding was more worth his time. 

“You're the one who said that there'll more benefits if you accepted the marriage proposal,” her secretary reminded, crossing his legs as he leaned back on the couch he was sitting on. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course I was just…gaslighting myself about this entire fucked up situation!” Emma growled as she stomped over to him with a scowl. “Can’t fucking believe my dad agreed to marry me off just like that, too. After all his talk that I needed to love whoever I'm supposed to marry...”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Anyone can be blinded by money—especially if it's from the Chois.”

“Even you?”

It’s a question that sunk into the room with a rhetorical implication. Emma was quick to exchange the earrings her stylist chose for her with something more suited to her taste—a pair that didn’t sparkle all that much but was worth more than six months of Wonwoo's salary. In her reflection on the vanity mirror, he could clearly see the way her red lips parted in concentration as she clipped the earrings in place. 

“No,” Wonwoo responded even if he knew she wasn’t looking for an answer. “I’m more easily blinded by other things, ma’am.”

Emma glanced behind her with a puzzled look, not getting his drift. “Like what?” 

Wonwoo didn’t dare think twice. 

He got up from his once comfortable position on the couch, closing the distance that sat between him and Emma in long, calculated strides. She didn’t seem fazed by his sudden need to walk over, but the moment Wonwoo was behind her, she stiffened when he reached a hand in front of her face. Then, with a firm yet featherlight touch, her secretary wiped off the lipstick that stained past her lip line with his fingers—not once breaking eye contact with her in the mirror. 

“It wouldn’t be fun if I told you, now would it?” He smiled before pulling his hand back. “I need to keep you on your toes sometimes, too, Miss Emma.”

He half-expected her to scoff and brush off his attempt at being smart with her. Emma was a no-nonsense kind of person, and with the wedding happening soon, Wonwoo understood why she’d be more high-strung than usual. 

But instead of acting the way she always did with him, Emma took Wonwoo by surprise when she fisted his silken necktie in her manicured nails, tugging him down so that their eyes were leveled with each other. Normally, that wouldn’t be enough to wrestle Wonwoo into complete submission, but this was his boss they were talking about.

There’s a glint in those sharp eyes of hers that had his heart beating off the charts. This wasn’t the gaze of someone entitled the Ice Queen of their office. No, there’s something warm in there—borderline sensual. And before Wonwoo could even hope to figure out what it was, Emma was already closing her eyes and sealing their lips together like some unspoken pact. 

It’s an inconsequential kiss. Wonwoo has made out with both men and women alike—all desperate gasps and lust-fueled passion—but somehow, none of those experiences could hold a candle to the way Emma Rodriguez pecked his lips for a fraction of a second before pulling away. 

“You're getting more and more insufferable,” she muttered, resting her forehead against his. “You were never this cheeky before. What happened?”

You, he wanted to tell her. You happened.

At that point, Wonwoo's brain was merely operating on carnal instinct alone. He lunged forward to capture her lips again, making her gasp in surprise as he snaked a strong arm around her waist. Thank fucking god Emma’s wedding dress had a simple design—no pretentious frills to obstruct his movements. 

Despite the fact that this woman—his boss—was getting married in less than two hours, Wonwoo couldn’t even give a damn. He swiped all the makeup boxes and accessories off the vanity table, propping Emma up on the horizontal surface as he kissed her until she saw stars. 

“Wonwoo,” she sighed against his lips, thighs inching apart as he bunched the long hem of her gown up to her waist. He wondered distantly if Emma was going to ask him to stop—to see reason. But the glazed look in her eyes told him otherwise.

“More.”

Wonwoo wanted nothing more than to give her more. He’d do everything she could ever dream of asking him. Never mind the fact that it was more than a little messed up for him to consider fucking his boss right before she’s married off to the man who tormented her endlessly at sixteen. 

Nobody else mattered—not Leo, not the director, not even Emma’s intricate revenge plot that was years in the making. At that moment, only the two of them existed, only separated by a few layers of clothing before they could finally become one. 

But Wonwoo was abruptly reminded why he always chose reason before ambition long before he met Emma. Dreams and delusions were bound to end when you least expected them to. Reality, on the other hand, would always remind you of life’s harshest truths.

“Miss Emma?” They both could hear the voice of Leo's personal assistant outside the door to the hotel room, preceded by a few short knocks. “It’s time for your prenup shoot. Director Rodriguez is also looking for Sir Wonwoo. Is he in there with you?”

Whatever dream the two of them have fabricated only minutes ago had been erased from existence—all that was left was a bride-to-be with her dress ruffled in all the wrong places, and a pitiful secretary with red lipstick stains adorning his face.

“Yeah, he’s here with me,” Emma yelled over to the doorway, eyes refusing to part from Wonwoo's. “We’ll be down soon. Thanks, Christina.”

“Okay, ma’am. I'll just wait for you in the lobby.”

Wonwoo counted to ten before peeling himself away from Emma, quickly striding towards the bathroom to get some tissues both for himself and his employer. But while he was wiping off the lipstick on the corners of his mouth, Wonwoo immediately noticed the shift in the atmosphere.

Emma was already busy straightening herself out—smoothing down the creases in her gown and retouching her makeup as best as she could without her stylists. Wonwoo wouldn’t have minded the silence, it’s exactly the kind of setting he preferred working in. 

But just when he thought he’d managed to melt the Ice Queen’s heart over the past year, she turned arctic cold all over again. 

“After the wedding, tell my driver to accompany me to Leo's penthouse. Though I despise the idea, we have to go home together to keep up the act for everyone to see.” She gave her orders the same way she used to tell Wonwoo to sort the company’s financial reports—straight to business with little room for playing around. “Other than that, I don't have any more orders. You can rest easy for the day, Wonwoo.”

He felt like he should say something to address what just happened between them five minutes ago. To ask why she was pretending as if they weren’t breathing each other in like all the oxygen on the planet had gone in a flash. But Wonwoo wasn’t some desperate fool that overestimated his place in Emma’s life. 

“Duly noted, ma’am,” he muttered with the same degree of aloofness she’d just given him before tossing the soiled tissues in the trash. “I’ll be waiting for you outside.”

Emma didn’t even break face as Wonwoo's footsteps resounded on the carpeted floor. She didn’t even spare him a second glance. But then again…

He was her secretary, and she was his employer. 

That was all there was to it.

Much to Wonwoo's surprise, Leo's case was closed much sooner than he thought it would be.

Before Emma could even make it to the cathedral, the commotion had already started. Wonwoo had arrived earlier in the venue with Emma’s father, the director of PLEDIS Insurance, and were just about to take their seats among the other principal sponsors when the television screens mounted all over the church suddenly started playing a video.

A video that Wonwoo has already seen before.

He didn’t have to glance at Leo to know that he was sporting the most horrified look he could muster upon seeing one of your many sex scandals having an impromptu screening at the cathedral. Collective gasps and disgusted remarks were heard in a chorus of murmurs that reached all the way up to the high ceilings. 

Wonwoo could hear Leo's assistant, Christina—who turned out to be part of the sex parties her boss secretly indulged in—barking orders for the church staff to cut the feed. But it was too late. Those who needed to see the truth have already gotten their fill.

Recognizing that his daughter couldn’t possibly be wed to a man with a reputation that’s been tarnished in a church, of all places, Director Rodriguez ordered Wonwoo to contact the bridal car driver and tell him to send Emma straight home instead. It’s a job that Wonwoo got done fairly quickly, and despite the numerous text messages that Emma sent him demanding answers about what happened, he didn’t respond to any of them right away. 

After a few hours of digging around, Wonwoo eventually found out that one of Leo's cousins was behind the public exposé. Apparently, said cousin was able to obtain the same footage that Emma acquired and was able to sabotage Leo's attempt at seizing their family riches before Emma could even put her plans into motion. 

Well, at least someone else already did the dirty work for them.

As usual, Wonwoo collated all the information he’s gathered in a concise email. This was how he kept Emma up to speed about their progress—through self-destructing emails. He informed her about the involvement of Leo's cousin and how the trash had taken itself out, ensuring that Leo Choi had fallen from the false pedestal he’s clung onto for years.  

Their behind-the-scenes mission has been fulfilled.

While he didn’t expect Emma to respond enthusiastically, receiving radio silence in return wasn’t something Wonwoo had anticipated either. But he opted not to read into it much. She must’ve been royally pissed that Leo's demise wasn’t brought about by her own hand, and Wonwoo respected that.

The following Monday after the canceled wedding, however, he ended up finding out the reason behind her silence. 

“Boss,” sobbed Seokmin when Wonwoo timed in at the office. “Please don't leave!”

Immediately backing him up was Soonyoung, who didn’t hesitate to hug Wonwoo, even giving him a few pats on the shoulder as if they were old drinking buddies. “It's okay, Sir Wonwoo. You've been here long enough. Maybe it's about time you found your path elsewhere.”

…Huh?

“What are you talking about?” Wonwoo voiced out his confusion. “You’re speaking like I got fired.”

As if on cue, the third member of their trio walked in on the conversation as he sipped on his usual iced americano. Seungkwan stared at Wonwoo with a puzzled expression before saying:

“But weren't you fired, sir? Miss Emma announced it this morning, but I think she left right away after, too.”

Not privy to the way the pieces started to click in his head, Seokmin and Soonyoung kept consoling Wonwoo as he made his way to his (old) cubicle. Emma had been one step ahead too—someone already having packed away most of his belongings in storage boxes. Not to mention the notice of contract termination sitting on his desk. Effective immediately, it says.

“I really don't get it though” Seungkwan droned behind him. “You? The best secretary in the city? Fired just like that?”

Seokmin nodded. “I don't understand it either. You two were business-as-usual after the wedding. Miss Emma must've been so pissed that she didn't get married that she laid off the boss here.”

“True,” Soonyoung agreed with a snicker. “Boss, maybe Miss Emma's just being unreasonable. I bet she'll be begging for you to come back in a few days' time.”

Yeah. That’s what the situation would seem like to an outsider. But Wonwoo knew perfectly well that Emma wasn’t bluffing about this. She fired him for a reason that’s been stewing for more than a decade. Even if Gavin, Ezra, and Leo have had their taste of justice, Emma’s revenge plot wasn’t finished like Wonwoo thought it was.

Because Wonwoo was one of her targets all along, too.

I hoped...so hard back then that you would help me when I needed it. But you never did.

“Where is she?” 

Seungkwan perked up. “Uh, maybe she went home? She told us something about feeling a bit under the weather?”

Seokmin nodded. “She's probably in her penthouse or something. If i were you, I'd start making it up to her.”

“Hey, you're talking like they're actually dating,” Soonyoung scolded with a laugh.

Not even bothering to thank them, Wonwoo turned on his heel and made a beeline for the office entrance—dead set on doing exactly what Seokmin jokingly suggested.

This is why I'm making it up to you, he mused with an exasperated air as he buckled up in his car. 

Can’t you just let me in?

Emma spent her first Monday after the entire wedding disaster with Leo holed up in her unit—stuffing herself full of ice cream. The only reason she bothered going to the office today was to formally announce that her secretary Wonwoo Jeon was fired—just like she’d been planning since the moment she met him again as her secretary after all these goddamn years.

Her high school bullies have been put in their place. Her fifteen-year revenge plot was finally over.

But why did she feel so fucking depressed about it?

She sighed pitifully when she realized she’d already emptied her tub of double dutch ice cream, finally deigning to get up from the couch to deposit it in the kitchen for later disposal. But just when she was about to continue moping in her living room, the doorbell to her unit buzzed from the entrance, making her glance that way curiously.

It could be her next-door neighbor. A kind, elderly woman who lived with her daughter. She borrowed Emma’s rosemary spices yesterday—something that she barely used because she often opted to go for food deliveries instead of whipping up her own meals. 

With that reasoning in mind, she didn’t bother checking who was at the door through the peephole. She simply undid the locks before opening the door—only to come face-to-face with—

“Hey,” Wonwoo sighed as he jammed his foot between the door and the doorframe. “Ma’am, please talk to me first. Did you think I wouldn't catch onto what you were trying to do?”

“Why do I have to explain myself to you? You’re fired, right?” Emma growled as she pushed the door with her back, but sadly, Wonwoo easily overpowered her. At least he was decent enough to not let himself in—he simply lingered out in the hallway with a placid look on his face. “What?”

“Emma,” her ex-secretary addressed her for the first time without any formalities. “If you fired me as vengeance for not helping you all those years ago, I get it. I deserve it, even. But after what happened sa hotel…

“You can’t convince me there’s nothing between us anymore.”

Her breath hitched, face growing warm at the reminder of that intimate moment they shared hours before she was supposed to get married. Whenever she closed her eyes, she could still feel Wonwoo's mouth on hers. But that wasn’t a thought that was healthy to entertain at the moment.

“What are you saying? That was all part of the plan, you know?” She bluffed with a mirthless laugh, fully turning to face him as she crossed her arms. “Make you smitten enough with me to let your guard down. Look, you didn't expect me to fire you, did you?”

“No, but you can’t fool me, Emma,” Wonwoo chuckled with a self-satisfied smirk. “You wanted me too—that was real. If I’m mistaken, then make me leave. Call security on me. If I’m the nuisance you so desperately want me to be, then get rid of me here and now.”

The silence was thick between them. Emma was practically shaking with frustration as Wonwoo stared down at her with that overconfident look on his face. She wanted nothing but to punch him, hit him, slap him—

Kiss him.

Maybe Wonwoo was right. Maybe Emma did want him more than she led herself to believe. 

Because why the hell did she fist the front of Wonwoo's work shirt before pulling him inside her penthouse? Why did she slam him against the door, earning a sexy groan from him as she crushed their lips together?

Was this a healthy way to deal with your current predicament? No—definitely not. But it felt too fucking good to pass up on.

Wonwoo, however, was all too quick to regain control—hooking one of Emma’s thighs around his waist as she gasped into his mouth. She could practically feel him smirk against her lips, and though she’s loath to admit, it only made her want him even more.

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” he chuckled before peppering her neck with love bites. “You might need to kill me first before I stop pursuing you.”

Emma spared him a breathless laugh that quickly melted into a moan when Wonwoo's hand found itself inside her oversized sleep shirt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were obsessed with me, Jeon.”

His fingers were warm against her skin, and Emma couldn’t help the full-on shudder that racked her body when Wonwoo grazed her bare nipples. The smile on his face was wicked—dangerous, even. 

“Maybe I am,” he chuckled, his breath fanning against her flushed face.

“What would you do if I was obsessed with you, Ma’am?”

Emma was well aware that Wonwoo knew the answer to his own question. It was obvious in the way he quickly picked her up from the floor, fully wrapping both her legs around his waist as he carried her towards her bedroom. But despite the carnal urgency in his grip, Wonwoo was awfully gentle as he laid her down on the mattress.

“Last chance to kick me out,” he murmured against her ear as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could exact your revenge on me even better, ‘no? I’m giving you the leeway to frame me for forced entry…among other things.”

God. She knew Wonwoo was a little crazy when he accepted Emma’s orders to help her make his old best friends suffer. But the way he looked at her with such crazed desire further confirmed her suspicions.

And she didn’t want her men any other way.

“Fuck me, Wonwoo,” she told him clearly before stripping her own clothes and laying herself bare for him to feast on—eyes lidded, desiring him just as much as he did her. “That’s an order.”

He shook his head with a chuckle, and Emma had to force herself not to drool over his perfectly built torso. If she had more patience, she would’ve taken her time worshiping every inch of Wonwoo's body, but he’d already set a fire in the pit of her stomach. One that she fully expected him to deal with sooner than later.

“So wet for me,” he observed with a lopsided smirk, pressing their foreheads together as he lathered his fingers with her slick. “Have you always wanted me this way? Do you touch yourself to the thought of me, Miss Emma?”

Yes. Fuck, yes. 

“That’s none of your business, Jeon,” Emma stubbornly insisted, keeping herself from moaning when his lips descended onto one of her hardened nipples. 

Wonwoo made good on the opportunity, using the fingers he’d used to feel up her slick cunt to rub her essence across the other bud he wasn’t suckling on. The effect was near immediate—Emma throwing her head back with a pretty little whimper as Wonwoo started to massage her breasts. 

Fuck. He’d always dreamed of getting to smother his face between them.

“Wonwoo,” she gasped out loud, hips bucking desperately when he bit down on her sensitive flesh. “F-Fuck me. Now.” 

“Demanding.” He pulled away from her sensitive nipples with a pop, staring up at her with a lustful gaze. “You enjoy ordering me around too much, you know?”

“You enjoy being ordered around, too,” Emma pointed out with a scoff, trying her best not to moan too loudly when Wonwoo's fingers started to toy with her leaking cunt again. “Just—I need you. Please.”

Ah, he never thought the day would come when he’d hear Emma Rodriguez begging for his cock.

“Okay, Ice Queen,” he relented with a playful laugh, kicking his underwear and trousers off as he pumped his already hard length. “Since you're so eager for me to fuck you, I’m not going to prep you anymore. You better not cry when my cock splits you open, okay?”

Hearing him talk so lewdly to her made her pussy gush with excitement. What’s more was that, not only was her secretary blessed with a face and body that gods would covet, but his cock was something she was afraid she’d keep looking for even when he was done with her.

He was awfully careful when he first pushed inside of her, sharp eyes riveted on her face as it twisted with both pain and pleasure alike. His size was something that one needed getting used to, and he wasn’t about to make his first time with Emma uncomfortable for her.

No, he wanted her to keep thinking about him even after they’ve had their fill of each other.

“Squeezing me so fucking tight,” he rasped against her neck, licking a long stripe along the column of her throat to make her shiver. “Too bad you already fired me. I always wondered what it would feel like to bend you over and fuck you in your office.” 

He could feel her pussy squeeze his cock even tighter at the shameless image she put in her head, making Wonwoo smirk with pride as he started to move. Emma mewled his name, grabbing his face as he chased his lips. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted, meeting her with an open-mouthed kiss as their tongues clashed together in time with his thrusts.

“W-Wonwoo,” she moaned into his mouth, hips eagerly meeting his. “Deeper. Fuck me deeper.”

And fuck her deeper, he did—Emma’s got him wrapped around her pretty manicured fingers, after all. 

Wonwoo was relentless with the way he pounded her into the bed, the sound of skin slapping against skin ringing much too loudly in his ears. But he didn’t fucking care. The feel of Emma’s velvet pussy walls pulsing around his cock sent his mind into a frenzy—fucking her until the bedframe creaked, until Emma was begging him to give her more, more, more—

All of a sudden, she gasped, “Coming, coming—!” 

If being inside her was life-changing, feeling her cum around his cock sent Wonwoo straight to heaven. Her cunt spasmed deliciously as Wonwoo helped her ride out her high—lips locked together as they breathed each other in. 

“Cum inside me,” she murmured deliriously into his mouth, practically rubbing her breasts—sensitive and littered with all the marks Wonwoo left on them—against his toned chest. “Make me yours, Jeon.”

He didn’t have to be told twice.

“God, I love you,” he sighed a little mindlessly, and those carelessly uttered words made Emma’s eyes widen with surprise before losing herself to the feeling of delirium. 

Wonwoo spilled his load inside her quivering cunt with a long-winded moan, feeling like he’d been shot through the head and was experiencing a level of euphoria that bordered on illegal. Emma moaned at the feel of his warm cum filling her to the brim, bringing him down for another sloppy kiss as the heat of the moment started to dissipate in the quiet atmosphere of their bedroom.

As their breaths started to settle, Emma was the first to glance at him—to meet his eyes. Wonwoo couldn’t find any trace of the arctic cold Ice Queen that practically told him to scram the other day at the hotel.

No, it was just Emma. 

His Emma.

“Can I still take back my verdict?” she muttered softly, inching closer to bury her face in his chest. Wonwoo instinctively pulled her in for a tender embrace, kissing the crown of her head with a smile.

“You mean the contract termination?” Wonwoo chuckled. “Take it up to HR, Miss Emma. I’m just a lowly secretary.”

All of a sudden, Emma rolled over so that she was seated upright on the bed. Wonwoo had to keep himself from groaning at the sight of her—hair disheveled and body sporting all his marks. Seeing her freshly fucked by him was doing things to his libido. 

“You’re not just my secretary, Wonwoo,” she sighed, twiddling with her fingers awkwardly. “I…I wasn’t going to fire you anymore. I got used to your company. I…

“I fell in love with you.” 

The words floated between them like a cloud that couldn’t easily be swept up by the wind. Wonwoo offered her a comforting smile before pulling her into a firm kiss.

“Yet you fired me anyway,” he pointed out with a laugh. “Why? You couldn’t deal with the fact that you fell in love with one of your high school bullies?”

That earned him a punch in the shoulder. “You’re not one of them. You’re different.”

“And you’re in love with me too, no? You said it yourself. Since when?”

Shaking his head, Wonwoo then pressed a soft, featherlight kiss on her nose—one that had Emma’s heart fluttering like she was a schoolgirl.

Gosh, this man. He’s fifteen years too late.

“Maybe I’ve always been a little in love with you. Who knows?” Wonwoo spared her a Cheshire cat smile. “There’s more where that came from though.”

Emma punched him in the chest this time—a bit too close to the spot where he broke a few ribs months prior. But he didn’t care.

She could send him to hell and back and he’d do it for her in a heartbeat.

From: Wonwoo Jeon 

Subject: NOT-SO CLASSIFIED

Good evening, Miss Emma. I hope this message finds you well.

I heard that you dealt with quite a stressful client today. I’m very sorry that I wasn’t here to help you with the matter as I was given tasks to do elsewhere. In order to make up for this lapse on my part, I am cordially inviting you to dinner at 7PM tonight after work. 

Rest assured, the expenses shall be shouldered by me and your only job is to sit and look gorgeous as I wine and dine you for the evening. Sincerely hoping for your most favorable response.

Regards, 

Wonwoo Jeon

Secretary, Finance and Logistics Department

PLEDIS Insurance 

Your boyfriend :)

end notes: this wasnt thoroughly proofread so if you spot some strange errors (aka sentences in a different language bc this fic was partly in filipino) here and there, pretend you didn't see em! as always, ur feedback means everything to me so scream in the tags or my ask as much as you want ^__^

[cry-ptidd]

Okay! Thank you so much! And I might ramble and shit gets sad and dark real quick.

To me, Abraham Van Helsing has/had a bleeding heart. Abraham cares deeply about not just about his loved ones, but everyone. He symbolizes agape - the love for your fellow man - in my story. Yes he is morally ambiguous, and later turned cruel, but he always believed it was for the greater good. He does have a bit of a savior and martyr complex though, and he lies and tells ‘half-truths’ and keeps people in the dark about certain things to ‘protect them.’ Abraham is Christian - Protestant- but he has some witchcraft in his veins, he knows this and honors both his lineage and his Christian beliefs, you could technically classify him as a ‘Christian witch.’

In my story, the Hellsing family has been close friends with two other families; Blacklocks and the Youngbloods. The Blacklocks and Youngblood were similar to House Hellsing, but the magic in their blood has been heavily diluted, barely existent.

Abraham was life-long friends with Arlo and Diora Blacklock, he is the uncle/godfather to their children; Twins (19) Lydia and Killian, and Jaime (9). In comes Katherina ‘Kathy’ Youngblood, whose parents died when she was little and Abraham and the Blacklocks took her in and she was raised along side the twins. Even before Arlo’s death, Abraham personally attended to the sickly and bedridden Diora, especially when she had Jaime months after Arlo’s death. Abraham would also later personally attend to Kathy as she got older and developed unexplainable chronic pain.

Abraham loved those kids. At the time, they were the closest thing he had to children of his own. Lydia was joy and loveliness incarnate, Killian was broody but grounded, Jaime with his youthfulness was a calming balm on everyone’s soul, and Kathy was as quick as a whip and extremely intelligent. With Kathy, when she was 18 and expressed a desire to become a physician- proper Victorian etiquette be damned - Abraham leaped and hollered for joy and picked her up and spun her, exclaiming that god has gifted him another prodigy. And so, he began to teach her what he knew, even took her to the night classes he lectured at the local university.

She showed great promise, she was talented and driven and compassionate.

Then came Dracula, who they knew as ‘Vlad’ at the time. Through time and unforeseen circumstances that would force them all to work together, and Kathy, ‘Vlad’ soon became ingrained into their sudden, odd, mismatched family.

Abraham blames himself greatly for what would happen 15 months later. Her knew something was wrong, he felt it in his gut.

Killian had been sent away for a series of assignments over seas months ago, they all knew he would be gone for a long while but each of the letters he sent back felt wrong even though in them he claimed he was fine and that he was just very busy. (Dracula had left Killian for dead and at the mercy of his Brides a year ago, all that time Killian was suffering and everyone back home was ignorant to it. Abraham never forgave himself for that).

Kathy was becoming close to ‘Vlad,’ the two exchanging looks when they thought he and the others weren’t looking or shared cryptic sentences between each other when he thought he or the others wouldn’t catch on. He turned a blind eye to it because ‘Vlad’ made Kathy happy. Abraham knew what ‘Vlad’ was - a vampire - but at the time, Abraham didn’t know who ‘Vlad’ was. (‘Vlad’ did make Kathy happy, but at what cost to Kathy and the others? That bastard. That fucking bastard!).

Lydia was getting sick and acting strange slowly as the year went by. The signs were there, but Abraham didn’t or couldn’t see it. The naively thought it was Lydia coming into what little abilities were left in the Blacklock bloodline (which turns out he wasn’t wrong about. But that less-than-a-man abomination was feeding off of her and using her as a vassal the entire time. And when that day came and reports of a woman in white feeding off of children started coming in and it turned out to be Lydia, undead and blood staining her wedding dress, it was Kathy who had to dispatch the person she’s called sister and best friend their entire lives).

Diora was still sickly but wasn’t bed-bound, she could get around with a cane. She shared his same questions and concerns about ‘Vlad’ and Kathy but also shared the same belief that ‘Vlad’ made Kathy happy. And at the time, Arthur was happy as well, as selfish as it was. (He loved Diora. Lord above, he loved her. That night, when he found her throat ripped open and Lydia’s corpse empty of blood near by, the first time in years Abraham broke down in such a way since the death of his first wife and son, that he - always strong and composed - had to be taken away from them both by Lord Dominick Sweet and Dr. Aubrey Davies who were also in their own state of disbelief and shock).

After poor, innocent Lydia was finally put to rest. The hunt for Dracula was on. All of them - Lord Dominick Sweet, Dr. Aubrey Davies, Rafael Arroyo/Chimalli, Kathy, and himself were so deep in grief and anger it fueled them, kept the hunt alive.

Abraham would never get the image of Raf being eviscerated in front of him, not Kathy’s scream from witnessing it. Abraham loved Raf like a son, and how does that love tied to Abraham present itself? A brutal death just like Lydia and Diora at the hands of a singular monster.

It was Kathy who delivered the final blow to Dracula, killing him. After Kathy cut off his head, there were several moments of unforgettable silence before Kathy began to shriek and cry and scream. He held her tightly as she sobbed into his coat, seeing as the humanity returned to her and as the reality of what Kathy had gone through and unintentionally invited into their lives, that the ‘man’ she loved was a monster who took everything from them.

Abraham handed her catatonic-self to Killian and Dominick as Abraham found and carefully wrapped Raf’s body to be sent back to America for a proper funeral. And later, Abraham found and secretly took custody of Dracula’s body.

By the time they all returned to England, Abraham knew what he would do. After everything, Dracula still had much to pay and answer for, and he would by Abraham’s will and skills in the occult alone.

He told Kathy and Killian to take Jaime and to leave England, to start their lives over somewhere far and safe from the horrors that occurred in England. They did, taking Raf’s body and promising to return him to his family when they arrived in America so that he could be laid to rest.

He told Dominick to move on and live as well, and he would some time later.

Meanwhile, Abraham - knowing that his remaining loved ones are far away and safe and ignorance about was to happen next - began his work. He brought Dracula back, and broke him. Over and over and over and over again. He branded him with forbidden slave crests, binding him to Abraham and his family forever. Abraham knew that revenge would not bring Lydia or Diora or Raf back, but damn did it feel good.

Abraham kept in contact with Kathy and Killian and Jaime and Dominick through letters throughout the years but never saw them in person, not wanting to put them at risk again even through his ‘pet’ had long since replaced his arrogance with obedience.

Abraham never told any of them what he did and was still doing.

Abraham never told or spoke about any of them - especially Kathy - to it. And when it had the nerve to speak or ask about her, Abraham let it be known through torturous means that it would her see her again and it wasn’t worthy to say her name.

And Abraham sure as hell didn’t tell it that months after Kathy moved to America with Killian and Jaime, he received a letter from Kathy, informing him that she was pregnant. In fact, he burned the letter after reading and re-reading it a dozen times over and it lead to a particularly brutal session of experimentation for it.

In 1897, a year after the events and when everyone left, when ‘Dracula’ by ‘Bram Stoker’ was published, Abraham scoffed but smiled a small and proud smile, knowing exactly who wrote it. Only Kathy could be so gutsy.

A handful of years later, Abraham would attend the funeral of Lord Dominick Sweet and encounter Kathy and Killina and Jaime there, along with the purple-eyed young child - a girl - who was perched on Kathy’s hip the entire time.

Abraham never spoke the truth about anything to either them or it. And even in death, Abraham protected/protects Killian and Jaime and Kathy and her daughter from it.

HELL YEAH!!! I love this!! Amazing!!

[yuikomorii]

The day tumblr stans will stop being chronically online is the day I will finally like this fandom. Goofy aah people think their opinions matter?

Last year everyone adored Ayato on this platform but after a certain ahem cult ahem of people joined, I can sense they’re secretly having beef with Ayato and are sending mean anons to Ayato fans for some jealousy reason.

Granted he is not my personal best boy but he’s DiaLovers’ best boy for a fact and the hype he started getting is pretty much deserved. In a series of games that’s a bit dead, I’m glad he’s able to keep it relevant not only for the DiaLovers fans. Don’t mind delulus saying bad things about him, those only exist on this platform anyway and are just seeking for attention and approval from random strangers.

// Tbh, I’m disappointed but not surprised. Unfair and two-faced people are everywhere and if they truly spend their time in that manner, you can already see how miserable their lives must be.

I believe that the Ayato hate train began with Youngblood and picked up steam this year after the release of the Meow Meow vampire art. Many people made fun of Ayato's appearance and blamed him for FaVoRiTiSm , despite the fact that everyone in Japan adored him there. I don't know why, but the DL Tumblr fandom is completely out of touch with everything DL-related. They have no idea that Rejet simply creates Ayato content as a marketing ploy; in fact, Japanese fans are literally the ones who request it. In 2020, Ayato was stated as fans’ top choice and got invited as a co-star with a national idol at Nino-san, which was broadcasted on the second largest television corporation in Japan. If people hadn’t recommended him so much, he wouldn’t have ended up there… it’s not that hard to understand.

This has the same vibe as those kpop fans who always complain about how their ult group is underrated but don’t even stream their songs, instead they spend their time criticizing bigger groups for what??

I’m not forcing anyone to love Ayato but at least give me good reasons to dislike him. I understand not liking ALL Diaboys but isn’t it hilarious how some people would give you a litany of reasons why they can't stand Ayato, but when you look at their bias, he did the same (or worse) things as (than) Ayato? If you truly dislike those actions, at least pick a side, lol. I honestly don’t hate any Diaboy (though I don’t agree with their behavior all the time) but even if I did, I wouldn’t throw shade at that one character out of the blue only to piss of his stans.

And I swear, it's incredibly annoying how some people would tear Ayato down when asked about their favorite character/ship/route, etc., even though he has absolutely NOTHING to do with the question or he isn’t even the main topic of the question. Saying things like, "Yeah, I like this character because, unlike Ayato (just an example hehe)—" or "No hate towards Ayato but — *proceeds to mischaracterize and hate on him*" are examples of uncalled hate speech. Literally why use HIM most of the time as an example when talking about negative things?? At this point that’s not even a coincidence anymore, but a pattern, which is truly giving fan behavior.

Such people are really the worst. Reminds me of how some fans still think it’s okay commenting stuff like “This is great but I don’t like *inserts thing the OP obviously likes*” or “Not trying to be mean but *starts being mean*”. Respectfully, who even asked for your opinion? Mind your own business and learn basic etiquette.

[the-noisiest-pumpkin]

rswr incorrect quotes pt 3!!

noise: i’ve got one foot in the grave, but in a kind of fun, flirty way.

noise: the way one might slip on a fishnet stocking.

flow: are you fucking stupid?

noise: i mean, broadly, yeah, but what prompted you to ask?

flow: it wasn’t a question. are you sexualizing depression and/or death?

noise:

noise: hell yeah!

roman: buy a man eat fish, he day.

roman: teach fish man?

roman *chuckles*: to a lifetime.

youngblood: roman, please sit down, i think you have a concussion.

noise: when i was little-

youngblood: *snorts*

youngblood: “was”.

roman: damn, noise! are you a construction worker?

roman: because YOU are BUILDING!

noise:

noise: what?

roman: 👍

noise: wait… you like me? for my personality?

youngblood: we know, we were surprised too!

roman: *nodding*

noise: i’m going to eat a hammock.

roman: please don’t.

youngblood: NOISE STOP TRYING TO EAT INANIMATE OBJECTS.

noise: NO.

noise: glass looks fucking exquisite though…

youngblood: STOP.

roman: hammock doesn’t even taste good.

noise:

youngblood:

youngblood: how would you know?

roman: context: i was a kid.

youngblood: that doesn’t provide context??

noise: seeee bloody? join the cult!

youngblood *talking to the bard king*: hey worstie! remember to drink sewage water and become the dirt i walk on! i hate you ❤️

britney: how���s the sexiest person here~?

flow: i don’t know, how are they~?

britney *flustered*: i-

noise *from across the room*: I’M DOING HORRIBLY, THANKS!

youngblood *tending to roman’s wounds*: how would you rate your pain?

roman: zero stars. would NOT recommend.

roman: what’s your biggest fear in life?

noise: probably that all of my friends are gonna realize that i’m an asshole and that they’re all gonna abandon and forget about me because i’ll never be good enough. you?

roman: damn. that was deep.

roman: i was gonna say the kool aid man but now i feel dumb.

britney: we’re playing scrabble. it’s a nightmare.

roman: scrabble? scrabble’s great!

britney: not when you’re playing with djembe, it’s not. he puts words like “eumoirous” and i put “jam”.

djembe: now gang, what do we say when we’re sad?

roman *nodding sagely*: it is what it is.

youngblood: arson solves everything?

noise *pats dirt hole*: my grave.

flow: add to cart.

britney: my sadness may be chronic but my ass? fucking iconic.

djembe: NO TO ALL OF THOSE-

noise: there are no fruits named after colours, other than blueberries.

roman: starfruit?

noise: so close! that is a shape ❤️

[ao3feed-brucewayne]

What Did He Do to Save Me?

by brynthewriter Danny Fenton was reincarnated as Bruce Wayne's oldest biological child. This wouldn't be an issue for anyone, except Damian was born with a hole in his heart that could only be fixed by Danny splitting his core in half. Now, Danny is perpetually exhausted and barely able to move. But despite all of that, he still loves his siblings. And he's about to find out how much they love him back, when Damian finds out the lengths Danny went to to save him as a baby and decides to return the favor. Words: 3027, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 14 of Bryn's Fics Fandoms: Batman - All Media Types, Danny Phantom Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Danny Fenton, Dick Grayson, Damian Wayne, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Clark Kent, Ember McLain, Skulker (Danny Phantom), Desiree (Danny Phantom), Ghost Writer (Danny Phantom), Box Ghost (Danny Phantom), Lunch Lady (Danny Phantom), Box Lunch (Danny Phantom), Nicolai Technus, Youngblood (Danny Phantom), Walker (Danny Phantom), Wulf (Danny Phantom), Fright Knight (Danny Phantom) Relationships: Batfamily Members (DCU) & Danny Fenton, Talia al Ghul/Bruce Wayne Additional Tags: Danny Fenton is a Batfamily Member (DCU), Sickfic, Chronic Illness, Ghost Cores (Danny Phantom), Reincarnation, Good Sibling Dick Grayson, Good Sibling Jason Todd, Good Sibling Tim Drake (DCU), Good Sibling Damian Wayne, Good Sibling Cassandra Cain, Good Sibling Duke Thomas, Good Sibling Danny Fenton, Good Parent Bruce Wayne, the BruTalia stuff is very minor btw, she's only occasionally mentioned, but she's the batkids' parent via https://ift.tt/XCuLAvr

[dear-indies]

in light of recent events... who are some of your favorite underused indigenous faces?

I think it'd be better to ask Indigenous creators some of their suggestions (if they're accepting asks!) but I will list people I know of with resources at the time of posting so the roleplay community knows who has them since the main directory is down. I know some of these are well known but I hardly see anybody use them:

Gil Birmingham (1953) Comanche.

Ernie Dingo (1956) Yamatji.

Benjamin Bratt (1963) Peruvian of Quechua descent / German, English, Sudeten German.

Zahn McClarnon (1966) Irish, Polish, Hunkpapa Lakota and Sihasapa Lakota.

Jason Scott Lee (1966) Kānaka Maoli and Chinese.

Kimberly Guerrero (1967) Colville, Ktunaxa, Bitterroot Salish, and Cherokee.

Michael Greyeyes (1967) Plains Cree.

Aaron Pedersen (1970) Arrernte and Arabana.

Robbie Magasiva (1972) Samoan.

Kaliko Kauahi (1974) Kānaka Maoli and Japanese,

Jennifer Podemski (1974) Saulteaux, Ojibwe, Lenape, Metis, and Polish Jewish - has Chronic Lyme Disease.

Chaske Spencer (1975) Yankton, Assiniboine, Sisseton, Nez Perce, Cherokee, Creek, French, and Dutch.

Simone Kessell (1975) Ngāti Tūwharetoa and Ngāi Te Rangi.

Tawny Cypress (1976) African-American, Accawmacke / Hungarian, German - is queer.

Daniella Alonso (1978) Peruvian of Quechua descent, Japanese / Puerto Rican.

Jesse Williams (1980) African-American, Seminole / Swedish.

Marisa Quinn (1980) Mexican and Lipan Apache.

Meagan Good (1981) African-American, Afro-Barbadian, Puerto Rican, Cherokee, Creole, and Jewish.

Jennifer Pudavick (1982) Metis.

Gabriel Luna (1982) Mexican and Lipan.

Rudy Youngblood (1982) Comanche and Yaqui.

Heather White (1983) Mohawk / Nakoda Sioux.

Cara Gee (1983) Ojibwe.

Andrew M. Gray (1983) Spanish / Miwok.

Uli Latukefu (1983) Tongan.

Alex Meraz (1984) Mexican of Purepecha descent.

Jessica Matten (1985) Red River Metis of Cree and Saulteaux descent, Chinese, French, British, and Ukrainian.

Martin Sensmeier (1985) Tlingit, Koyukon, Eyak, Irish, and German.

Cooper Andrews (1985) Samoan / Hungarian Jewish.

Elle Maija Tailfeathers (1985) Kainai Blackfoot and Northern Sami.

Nathalie Kelley (1985) Argentinian, Quechua of Peruvian descent.

Maika Harper (1986) Inuit.

Miranda Tapsell (1987) Larrakia.

Oona Chaplin (1986) Chilean [Mapuche, Spanish, evidently Romanian] / English, Irish, 1/16th Scottish.

Lily Gladstone (1986) Amskapi Pikuni Blackfoot, Kainai Blackfoot, and Nez Perce.

Jenna Talackova (1988) Babine and Czech.

Joan Smalls (1988) Afro-Virgin Islander, Irish / Puerto Rican [Spanish, Taino, Indian].

Ashley Callingbull (1989) Cree.

Ellyn Jade / Jade Willoughby (1990) Ojibwe, Afro Jamaican, Taíno, British - is Two-Spirit (she/her) - not straight otherwise unspecified, has nephrotic syndrome and celiac’s disease.

Kiowa Gordon (1990) Hualapai, English, Scottish, Danish, Manx.

Mary Galloway (1990) Quamichan - is queer.

Keisha Castle-Hughes (1990) Tainui, Ngāpuhi, Ngāti Porou / English.

Tanaya Beatty (1991) Da’naxda’xw and Himalayan.

Richard Harmon (1991) Mi'kmaq, French, Italian, English.

Cody Kearsley (1991) Metis.

Grace Dove (1991) Secwepemc.

Rose Matafeo (1992) Samoan / Scottish and Croatian.

Yalitza Aparicio (1993) Mixtec and Triqui.

Bryana Holly (1993) Kānaka Maoli, Japanese, Slovenian, Russian.

Ashley Moore (1993) African-American, Cherokee, and White.

Luciane Buchanan (1993) Tongan / Scottish.

Kawennáhere Devery Jacobs (1993) Mohawk - is queer.

Frankie Adams (1994) Samoan.

Taija Kerr (1994) Kānaka Maoli and African-American.

Khadijha Red Thunder (1994) Chippewa Cree, African-American, Spanish - is pansexual.

Angel Bismark Curiel (1995) Taino, Afro Dominican, Spanish - has asthma and a heart murmur.

Kehlani (1995) African-American, French, Blackfoot, Cheroke, Spanish, Mexican, Filipino, Scottish, English, German, Scots-Irish/Northern Irish, and Welsh, as well as distant Cornish, Irish, and possibly Choctaw - is a non-binary womxn and is a lesbian.

Sasha Lane (1995) African-American, Māori, English, Scottish, Sorbian, French, Cornish, distant German, Italian, Belgian Flemish, Russian, and Northern Irish - is gay and has schizoaffective disorder.

Cody Christian (1995) Penobscot, Passamaquoddy, French / English.

Chase Sui Wonders (1996) Tahitian, Chinese, Japanese, and Unknown White.

Courtney Eaton (1996) Chinese, Māori Cook Islander / English.

Román Zaragoza (1996) Akimel O’odham, Mexican / Japanese, Taiwanese.

Keahu Kahuanui (1996) Kānaka Maoli as well as some Japanese, likely small amounts of Scottish and French.

Court

Alex Aiono (1996) Ngāti Porou and Samoan / English, German, Irish, Danish, smaller amounts of Welsh, Swiss-German, and Scottish.

Madeleine Madden (1997) Gadigal, Eastern Arrernte, Kalkadoon and White.

Alaqua Cox (1997) Menominee and Mohican - is Deaf and is a leg amputee.

Kaiit (1997) Papuan, Gunditjmara, Torres Strait Islander - non-binary - she/he/they.

Morgan Holmstrom (1997) Metis of Cree descent, Ilocano Filipino, and Sambal Filipino.

Sofia Jamora (1997) Kānaka Maoli and Mexican.

Amber Midthunder (1997) Hunkpapa Lakota, Hudeshabina Nakoda, Sissiton-Wahpehton Dakota, Thai-Chinese, and White.

Froy Gutierrez (1998) Mexican and Caxcan / European.

Forrest Goodluck (1998) Navajo / Hidatsa, Mandan, Tsimshian, one-eighth Japanese, Norwegian, English, French-Canadian, German.

Kekoa Kekumano (1998) Kānaka Maoli.

Shina Novalinga (1998) Inuit.

Sivan Alyra Rose (1999) Chiricahua Apache / Afro-Puerto Rican, Creole - is genderfluid (she/they) and pansexual.

Erana James (1999) Ngāti Whātua-o-Ōrākei, Tainui.

Lizeth Selene (1999) Black and Unspecified Indigenous Mexican.

Willow Allen (1999) Inuit.

Anna Lambe (2000) Inuit - is bisexual.

Auli'i Cravalho (2000) Puerto Rican, Kānaka Maoli, Native Hawaiian, Portuguese, Chinese, Irish - is bisexual.

Joshua Odjick (2000/2001) Algonquin, Cree, and possibly Ojiwbe.

D’Pharaoh Woon-A-Tai (2001) Ojibwe, Cree, Chinese Guyanese, Afro Guyanese, White.

Matthew Sato (2001) Japanese, Chinese, Kānaka Maoli, Norwegian, Azorean Portuguese, English, Irish, Scottish, German.

Quannah Chasinghorse (2002) Hän, Gwich’in, Sicangu Oyate Lakota Sioux, and Oglala Lakota Sioux.

Jimmy Blais (?) Plains Cree.

Meegwun Fairbrother (?) Ojibwe, Scottish.

Ryan-James Hatanaka (?) Metis, Japanese, Scottish / Irish.

Delno Ebie (?) Lenape, Ojibwe, Cherokee, Mohawk, Montaukett, Powhatan, Pequot, Narragansett, Italian [including Sicilian], Greek, and possibly other descent.

Taiana Tully (?) Kānaka Maoli.

Lindsay Watson (?) Kānaka Maoli.

+ please let me know if I'm missing anyone or worded things wrong!

[yastaghr]

BPSSSFTB: Chp. 3 Link + Enigmatic Spoilers!

You don't need an account for this one, but that might change!

Here's the hyperlink version: To the fic!

And here's the plaintext: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52571161/chapters/132979594

Now, the enigmatic spoiler section awaits below the cut!

Temporarily stranded ghosts.

A good science experiment is conducted!

Explosions!

Chronic pain relief description by someone with chronic pain!

The Flashfam knows more about ghosts than the JLD and will not let them live it down.

All-terrain Wheelchairs that work in space, on water, and inside the walls!

OSHA gets an undead inspector with only a little bit of a grudge.

Youngblood makes friends!

[pulchrasilva]

i know a place where the pain doesn’t reach

Fandom: Roleslaying With Roman

Relationships: Blood Red Song/royono

Characters: Youngblood, Noise, Roman, a cameo from one of the sides + mentions of other roleslaying characters

Summary: Youngblood and Roman refused to let Noise go back to Fantabulous Neon, instead kidnapping him and taking him to Frogtown. But once they arrive, it's clear something is off with Noise - and it might not be what Youngblood expects. But this is a chance to start soothing old wounds, both literally and metaphorically, that Youngblood won't pass up.

Word Count: 3336

Warnings: some slightly questionably morality, mentions of destruction etc, difficult emotional situations, scars, chronic pain, Youngblood does a bit of that 'i could heal it' stuff, self-deprecation, eating bugs, food issues, non-sexual nudity, well-meaning kidnapping, past violence, The Bard King (he needs his own warning tbh)

Notes: title from Come Wander With Me by Brian Fallon

AO3 // My Masterpost

Noise had tried to stay in Neon, to go back to their duty as First Chair and the people they were supposed to command. He didn't succeed.

It was a good thing Roman picked Noise up and threw him into the car when he did, because Youngblood didn't want to think about what might have happened if he hadn't.

Noise put up a token struggle as Roman carried them away from the collapsing city but once he managed to get them into the car, they just... stopped.

Youngblood threw himself after them and slammed the door, heart pounding. They couldn't get out of there fast enough.

It was only as they were driving away that Youngblood began to worry. He and Roman, already criminals by Bard law, had just kidnapped the First Chair. Sure, Noise didn't seem too upset about it – but that was a whole other can of worms. Youngblood wouldn't put it past the Bard King to accuse them of abandoning their post as First Chair. And Noise had already suffered too much at that bastard's hands.

In trying to keep him safe, they may have put Noise in even more danger.

The journey had been quiet. Noise hadn't looked back at Neon once, but Youngblood knew they were thinking about all the citizens and Bard Guards they were leaving to be overpowered by the fey.

A pang of guilt went through Youngblood as he remembered all the people that he'd left to fend for themselves against such a powerful attacker. But he couldn't regret doing it.

He couldn't handle the thought of Roman, bright and smiling Roman, being hurt as he tried to save people. Or the idea of Noise, already beaten down and hardened, charging back into danger on behalf of the College that had hurt him? It was unbearable.

Maybe he was selfish. But Youngblood knew that his friends, the two most important people in his life, were safe and happy, and that was more than worth all the lives in Neon.

They hadn't talked about it since arriving at Frogtown. Youngblood knew that Noise was conflicted, mourning the people they had lived and worked with, and relieved to be out from under the Bard King's thumb (at least for now). But they hadn't talked about it.

The drive had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Noise silent, Roman unusually subdued, and Youngblood having no idea how to bridge the gap between them.

The taxi driver dropped them off at the inn, where the innkeeper introduced himself as Lily Padton.

“Free of charge!” he said as Roman began to get out his money bag.

“Thank you!”

“Why?” Youngblood demanded.

“Well, you’re newt to the area! Besides, you three look like you’ve had a rough day. I’m perfectly happy to house you while you figure out where to go from here! Now come in, come in,” he said as he herded them all inside. “You can leave your things in the croak room.”

Youngblood thought he should probably be a little suspicious of that but Mr Padton gave them such a big smile as he herded them inside, and he was just so tired. Roman and Noise seemed to trust him. They would be okay if he just let it go for a little while.

Roman of course made fast friends with their host. He smiled and joked and made pleasant conversation, offering to help as Mr Padton bustled around the kitchen and insisting on doing something even after being waved away.  He seemed much brighter now than he was on the way here.

Meanwhile Youngblood sat to the side and watched Roman in what was apparently in his element. He didn't know what else to do with himself. He tried not to glower too hard but it was difficult. Social niceties were not his strong suit, especially not with the mood he was in.

The only person missing from the scene was Noise. The minute they got inside he'd made a beeline up the stairs and claimed a room for himself, slamming it shut behind him. Youngblood didn't think they were angry per se, but they definitely weren't happy, and he didn't know what he could do other than give them space.

Youngblood wanted to help, to do something. But if he got it wrong, he risked shattering the friendship they were slowly rebuilding entirely.

No matter how much he wanted to help, he was helpless.

So he sat there, quiet and brooding, managing to feel alone even surrounded by Roman's chatter.

"Right!" Mr Padton exclaimed suddenly, snapping Youngblood from his thoughts. "Dinner is almost ready. I just need to set the table, then I'll serve it piping hot!"

"I can do that!" Roman jumped in front of Mr Padton, collecting cutlery from the draw and sweeping into the dining room before he could protest.

Mr Padton chuckled, before turning to Youngblood. "Do you think your friend will be hungry, kiddo?" he asked gently.

Youngblood blinked. It was so obvious. Why didn't he think of that? "Yes!" He blurted out. "Yes, I'll go get him!"

Maybe Youngblood couldn't help Noise with everything they were dealing with right now, but he could make sure they ate. That was something.

He leapt up, making a beeline for the stairs before Mr Padton could respond.

"Oh-" he ribbited, "Alright then, kiddo! You two come on down when you're ready."

"Thank you, Mr Padton," Youngblood called back, not even waiting to see whether he heard it.

***

"Noise?" Youngblood knocked on the door gingerly. "We’re about to have dinner, are you coming?"

"Yeah, yeah." The response sounds distracted, hastled. Like something was wrong. "I'll... I'll be down in a bit. You guys start without me."

It set off alarm bells in Youngblood's mind.

He couldn't help it. After everything that had happened these past days – the injuries Noise sustained in the bards duel, watching their fingers slip past his own as they were swallowed by the cart, learning exactly what happened to their eye – the idea of Noise distressed and alone was unbearable.

Before he could even think about it, Youngblood burst through the door, sword already in hand.

But there was nothing there, nobody who posed a threat. Just Noise, squawking at the sudden entrance.

So what was wrong?

Youngblood turned his attention to Noise, whose face was slowly turning pink as he babbled about "privacy" and "manners" and "what's even the point of knocking if you're just going to barge in" and hurried to sweep his cloak over himself. Because their shirt lay on the bed, along with a small vial. Youngblood's face started to heat as well as his eyes fell on their bare chest, before Noise managed to wrap the cloak around his shoulders and draw it around himself.

"What are you doing?" they shrieked.

"I- I didn't-" Youngblood spluttered, hastily putting his sword away like that would undo the awkwardness of the situation. "I thought something was wrong!"

"Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?"

"I don't know!" His voice rose. "Forgive me for being worried about you!"

"Well there's nothing to be worried about," Noise snapped. "So if you could go off to dinner with your new friend and close the door behind you, that would be great." A hand slipped out from behind their cloak to point like he might not be able to find the door himself.

Youngblood froze as his gaze locked onto that hand, and Noise froze with him. Starting at the wrist and disappearing into their cloak, was a mass of dark purple, twisted flesh.

Burn scars.

There was silence.

Youngblood swallowed. "Was... was that me?"

Noise paused.

"…What do you think?"

Feeling sick to the stomach, Youngblood strode across the room, grabbed his hand and flipped back the cloak. His heart sunk as he took in the full extent of the scarring, twining around their elbow, up their bicep, and touching their collarbone.

Noise hissed through his teeth and snatched his hand away. He stumbled backwards, gingerly wrapping his other hand around his wrist.

"Sorry!" Youngblood blurted. "Sorry, I didn't mean to... Does it hurt?"

"No." They looked away.

"Noise," Youngblood said softly, prompting them to meet his gaze. "Please, don't lie to me."

They didn't reply.

"I can help?" The thought of using magic on Noise again made his stomach twist, but the idea of leaving them in pain was far, far worse. "I might be able to heal it."

"You think I haven't tried that already?" Noise scoffed. "I've seen countless healers, and none of them could do it." They looked at him, considering. "I don't know why, Bloody, but your magic sticks."

"But I was the one to do it! Surely I can undo it."

Noise sighed. "That's what they all said."

Youngblood frowned at them, anguished but silent.

"I can’t be healed. The best I can get is to ease the pain."

"Then let me do that."

They waved him off. "I don't need you for that. I just need to apply the salve the College Healer gave me."

"But I-"

"Youngblood." Noise cut him off. They spoke softly, but his mouth snapped shut. "You don't have to feel guilty. It was an accident."

"No." Youngblood shook his head. "It's not that."

He still felt guilty, of course he did. After almost every interaction with Noise, his mind drifted back to what he'd done and the state they'd been in when he left. But that wasn't why Youngblood wanted to help, not really.

It took some courage to admit it, but once the words were out Youngblood knew they were some of the truest he’d ever spoken.

"I want to help you because I care about you, Noise."

There was a pause.

Voice small, Noise asked, "You do?"

And Youngblood's heart broke.

"Yes. Yes, of course I do. Please, Noise. Let me help you."

Noise stared at him for a long moment. "Okay," they whispered.

Hesitant, Youngblood drew closer. He lifted his hand to the edge of the cloak.

"May I?"

Eyes wide and cheeks flushed, they nodded silently.

Youngblood gingerly peeled away the fabric and put it on the bed, leaving their torso bare once again. Noise didn't meet his eyes as he put a hand on their shoulder, the contact feeling like it burned, and led them to sit next to him on the bed.

"What do I use?" He murmured.

"What?" Noise blinked. "Oh! Here." He scooped up the small vial on the bed and placed it in Youngblood's palm.

The salve was a paste, pale green with small flecks of herbs that hadn't quite been crushed, and cool to the touch. Taking Noise's arm into his lap, Youngblood began to work it into their skin with diligent care. Keeping his touch as gentle as possible, rubbing small circles across the scars and making sure to give equal attention to every inch.

He started at their shoulder, applying the salve with one hand and gently holding their wrist with the other as he moved down their arm. The scars were a strange shape, spiralling around Noise's arm like vines. It became methodical, almost meditative, to work his way down those lines. Youngblood couldn’t say how long he spent at his task, all his focus on doing the best job he could for Noise. He just moved his fingers to the vial, back to Noise, softly circling, and repeat.

A heavy silence had settled over them, but not an uncomfortable one. Noise's hand was heavy in his, the touch of his fingertips against their skin unignorable even as he tried to keep it light as possible.

There was something familiar about this. The silent significance in every action was new, but the deep affection in the air and the things unspoken but mutually understood were like old friends to him.

Finally, Youngblood reached Noise's palm, still cradled in his hand. The first point of compact, the place that first got burned. Youngblood scooped up another dollop of salve and, taking a deep breath, continued smoothing it in.

Noise made a small sound as his fingers ghosted over the knot in the centre of their palm and Youngblood paused, gaze snapping up to look at them.

"Sorry, sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"You didn't hurt me," Noise hurried to reassure him. "It just... feels nice."

They were staring steadfastly at where his own wrist was held tenderly in Youngblood’s hands.

"Oh." Youngblood replied, suddenly too flustered to do anything other than continue soothing the scars he had left on them with the pads of his fingers.

***

Roman raised his eyebrows at the colourful display set out across the dinner table. He knew this was a town of frogs, but he still hadn't expected such an... insect-based diet.

Mr Padton looked his way, seemingly for approval, and Roman immediately replaced the doubtful expression with a beam. It was just a difference in culture, no need to be rude. He'd already eaten his fair share of insects as a child running around Reston, and these ones were even cooked!

But back in Fantabulous Neon, Youngblood had seemed horrified when he thought they were being served cockroach – he wouldn't like this one bit. And Roman could only imagine how Noise would react.

Speaking of: Noise still hadn't come down for dinner, and Youngblood hadn't returned since offering to go get him.

It had been a while now, but that wasn't too surprising. After such a long couple of days, they both deserved a chance to rest in privacy. But they won't be able to recharge if they're hungry - Roman should bring some food up for them.

And if that would give him the chance to see the horror on their faces when they saw what was on the menu, that was only a bonus.

He swept up a few serving plates - some kind of insects lightly drizzled in syrup, a plate of brownish mush with tiny legs sticking out, and something that might actually be cockroaches served on a bed of roasted vegetables - to take upstairs.

"Your friends not coming down?" their host asked as he began to ascend the stairs.

"I figured I'd take some food up for them." Roman smiled. "It looks delicious!"

"You're a good lad," the Mr Padton said, pleased. "You go on up, kiddo."

It was a strange balancing act to carry the three large plates without dropping anything, but Roman managed, walking slowly and taking care not to trip.

Eventually he made it to Noise's room, where he assumed Youngblood was too.

With his hands so full, he knew he didn't have a hope of knocking. Deciding manners would have to be forgone, Roman shoved the door open with his shoulder and called, "I come bearing gifts!"

He was stopped short by the sight in front of him.

Youngblood and Noise, curled up together on the bed. Noise, shirtless, rested with their head on Youngblood's shoulder, a scarred hand placed on his chest. Youngblood had an arm wrapped tightly around his waist, and their tail twined around his upper thigh.

It was so tender, so vulnerable yet relaxed, in a way that he'd never seen either of them. He'd been travelling with Youngblood for a while now, and slowly getting to know Noise since leaving Neon, but this was a level of familiarity and trust that he couldn't even dream of. The sight had his heart aching with a sudden craving for this, this intimacy, with them.

Noise's eyepatch was off to the side, eyes closed and the right lid slightly slack. He was still slumbering peacefully but Youngblood's snapped open, frowning at his clumsy entrance.

Roman flushed.

He wasn't supposed to see this.

"Roman-!" Youngblood started.

"Sorry! Sorry, I didn't realise-"

It was such an intimate moment, and he'd just walked in without thinking twice.

"I just thought, food! Sorry, I'll um I'll go-"

The arm Youngblood had around him tightened as Noise began to stir at the sound of his stammering and Roman cursed. He'd only managed to disturb them more.

They stretched, languid as a cat, and rolled their head to face him.

"Roman?"

Their voice was so soft that his mouth immediately snapped shut. Somehow, he managed to feel even more guilty that he'd disrupted their peace.

"Sorry," Roman whispered, trying desperately not to make it any worse.

"What are you doing here?"

Roman cringed. "I thought you might want some food?"

They propped themself up on an elbow at that, peering at the plates Roman still had precariously balanced in his arms.

Noise's eyes lit up. "Are those honeyed dragonflies?"

"Uh."

Roman looked closer at the dish. Those could be dragonflies.

"Maybe?"

Youngblood wrinkled his nose.

"Ugh," he said at the same time as Noise cheered sleepily.

"Give, give!"

That wasn't quite the reaction Roman was expecting, but he found himself delighted by it.

"One plate of dragonflies, coming right up!"

The pair sat up, Youngblood leaning against the headboard and Noise soon returned to their place curled against his side. Roman deposited the dish in his lap, careful not to spill any food - he knew how particular Noise could be about their clothes.

They blinked blearily and smiled at him. "Thanks, farm boy."

"It-" Roman flushed, busying himself with arranging the remaining plates on the bed, "it's farm man. And you're welcome."

He did his best to hide how jittery Youngblood’s intense gaze made him, but he was sure they both noticed his hands shaking slightly before he could tuck them behind his back.

"Well-" Roman said, almost hysterical and definitely too cheery. "Enjoy your dinner! I'm just gonna-" He swallowed. "I'm gonna go."

"Roman?" Noise called, freezing him in place just as he was about to flee the room. "Where are you going?"

"I- I’ve got to eat too, you know," he said, a half hearted joke that fell flat.

He looked back to see Noise looking at him with big, mournful eyes.

"You're not eating with us?"

"I thought you two would want some time alone, you know, I wouldn't want to intrude."

"Roman," Youngblood interrupted. He’d been silent for so long that even that low muttering of his name immediately stopped Roman in his tracks. "You're not intruding. Come eat with us. Please."

And that was all it took for Roman's admittedly feeble resolve to crumble. His shoulders slumped.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, Roman. We want you here."

So, hesitating and slightly clumsy, Roman climbed into the bed. He didn't know what to do with himself but Noise didn't let him flounder for too long, pulling him against their side.

"I love honeyed dragonflies," he said, already digging in, and beaming at the taste. "I haven't had them in ages! Youngblood, here!"

Youngblood grimaced and screwed his eyes shut, but obligingly opened his mouth to let them feed him a spoonful. He looked faintly sick as he swallowed.

"Oh, Bloody," Noise cooed, half mocking and half sympathetic. "We'll find some other food for you tomorrow."

"I'm sure Burgundy has a stall around here," Roman chimed in. "She's everywhere! Her employees are very resourceful."

Youngblood looked at him, despairing. "I can't just eat bread, Roman!"

Noise couldn't hold back their giggles. "You might have to!"

Then they turned to Roman, another spoonful in hand. "Your turn, farm boy!"

"Oh! Um-" his face heated as he let Noise feed him the dragonflies. It was odd – crunchy, and with a bitter flavour that cut through the sweetness of the honey. Roman decided he liked it. "Mm." He grinned at Youngblood, who pretended to gag.

Roman soon found himself absorbed into the serenity of the couple, spooned around Noise and laughing with them as Youngblood groaned at the food (although Roman suspected he may have been exaggerating his disgust slightly to make them both laugh).

A little bubble of joy burst into existence inside Roman, and for the rest of the evening it only glowed brighter.

[tripstitan]

Can't Be Sure When They'll Hit the Mark

What, you thought I was done with the reference? Strap in and buckle up kiddos and kiddettes and mein kinder, hermosas, hermanos, y hermanes y amigues, all you guys gals and non-binary pals, you dudes, dames, and everything around and in-between.

You're all -Seen-. If you know what I mean. No, seriously, don't think that you're not, that I'm just blowing smoke up your rumpus mcmuffin. My series, AAoMM (An Age of Mysterious Memories, free on Royal Road) is to prove just what I'm saying.

Reggie and a heaping helping of the cast are agendered, or aroaces, or all of the above, or one of the three. Plenty of rainbow fam and queer cuties across our giant umbrella of lgbtqia+ amongst the cast, main and side. But those are just -traits-, not the entire person, persona, or character. You are more than just one of your traits, or even a few traits that seem to dominate your life. That's what this whole journey is about, this thrill ride of acknowledging people all over every spectrum, and acknowledging chronic illness, mental unwellness, mental health coping mechanisms and support networks, and so much more. Reggie's a survivor, in more ways than one. Dealing with panic attacks? It sucks. It really does. Some of Reggie's motivations are trauma-informed, and even they don't acknowledge it. Let's just say that there's a reason that they lean more and more into their role that everyone keeps thrusting on them, "Hero." Reggie's no hero, they'll admit it themselves, hell, they're worried that morally they might just be a villain, or the villain, but heroing's a job somebody's got to do if everyone's going to get a chance at a happy ending. (Not like that, you pervy goobers, those of you that jumped into the gutter. Read more for some cute images at the end.)

We're six thousand pages into an epic tale that is more stream-of-consciousness exploring-the-human-condition through dialogue and mental monologue, than the grand fantasy adventure backdrop it's painted against. It'll probably be about nine thousand pages by this time next year, and maybe the series will reach what I'm hoping will... well, let's just say I hope it continues to provide what it needs to provide for those that need it. Whether it's the escapism of the fantasy, the acknowledgement, the adventure, the camaraderie, the falling in love with the characters, the references and easter eggs and dig-your-teeth-into-the-foreshadowing I've built up as a web that I've plotted for thousands of pages for the analytical amongst us that love to find all the ways I've hinted at things since literally "Day One." (If you're interested in Day One, and the first few confusing days of Reggie's life, check out An Age of Perilous Prologues, yes, my prologue is over one hundred pages, and has a bunch of systems-info, but it also has the formative moments and development of Reggie's main panic trigger traumas. Nothing too content-warning'ish, cutesie wild-animal attack in a wilderness survival drama, it shouldn't be too unexpected for a reader that goes into it.)

There are so many things I want to spoil to you peeps, but I'll just leave you with some Lil and Lucky and the chapter snippet. I've rambled long enough.

Oh, right, the reference. Today's chapter title is "And Roll Out of the Skillet." (Yesterday's chapter was Save Rock if you're not a follower/hadn't seen my previous post.) Yes, there's a lot more than just one of these little portmanteau chapter titles or me addressing either the characters, or my readers, across my over five hundred chapter long series. I'll attach one that's kind of mean, but also funny.

(I'm so evil. But the chapter titles do actually make sense, so I'm not just being a dingus. I am a dingus, but I'm not just being one.)

Have some happy Lucky and happy Lil to balance things out. (Yes, Lucky's a shapeshifter, so he can technically go Bara-pup form, so these aren't entirely inaccurate representations.)

Lil's also a shapechanger, and almost as much of a goober as Lucky... maybe more of one.

[thezineontheblock]

my story so far?

I'm a traveler by nature.

As a youngblood, I'd find myself walking miles and miles into South Portland to get to used music shops, bookstores, comic shops and eventually, I'd retrace my steps from childhood all those years later when I was seeking a quicker means of getting to and from nightclubs and then my graveyard shift jobs cleaning up after construction crews or emptying wastebaskets in some deserted office park.

If I was a character out of anime, you'd see me as the sarcastic and acerbically witty chronic drunk or stoner with bags under my eyes and a distinct lack of energy but plenty of sass to spare.

I've lived in a huge slew of different cities;

Las Vegas was a crazy heady situation,

Phoenix was a burning hellhole of a town,

Tempe was a safe haven but not for long,

Brooklyn had some of the best pizza and sandwiches I've even sunk my teeth into

Seattle, Edmonds and Lynnwood had some of the best weed to smoke,

Jefferson was a snowy winter wonderland and three times as spooky around Halloween,

Martha's Vineyard was and remains to be one of my least favorite places to have ever called 'home'; mosquitoes, rude rich people and catty hotel workers.

Eugene in Oregon and Portland - Goose Hollow and the Alphabet District - made me feel like I was living in an indie movie when I was crashing out of that hostel. The owners are charming people and the food they supply is absolutely divine.

I took up collecting instruments with how much I move around; giving my hands something to do other than twitch and twiddle in place. Besides smoking kush and reading tarot cards, I'm now rather accomplished on the trumpet, the electric hollowbody guitar and the ukulele. I also play the Blues harp - the professional term for a harmonica -.

I'm something of an amateur scribbler; I try to put my thoughts and ideas into words and down on paper to get the collective noise out of my head. I can't remember the last time I shared one of my ideas with someone else but hey, maybe someone out there likes what I type and wouldn't mind acting as a proofreader?

[connorchen-saddog8]

What Happened To Chair Porn?

Above notes are some initial brainstorms about this idea and some feedback from Harry.

Inspiration

The phenomena of the internet "lolcow" and act of extensive pervasive documentation of one persona only made possible by the rapidness of contemporary / technology. Resulting in internet archival histories and documentations, almost to an obsessive point, of a specific persona, engraining their legacy into internet culture which reverberate through the public internet consciousness.

Eroticism and its evolution caused by the advancements in technology and communication. (looking to Gene Youngblood's Synaesthetic Cinema and Polymorphus Eroticism). It talks about how with the invention of video and tape? porn? more easily accessible porn i guess - Erotica and sex is being depicted in a less sinful light in cinema, as well as its manifestations within art. Thinking about this in the lens of contemporary technology in social media. Both the insane accessibility of porn at the click of a button (which obviously has worrying implications in terms of exploitation etc) but also the "chronically online" side of things? Fetish art, rule 34, the ms paint home made obscure kind of "porn" made by a forum user about their never-before-heard of fetish about their favourite character buying wonderbread.

The exponential growth of the internet and the digital landscape. It's all so new, but the internet 10 years ago is a completely different animal than it is now. Something from 2016 is historical because of just how fast and everything it is.

Performance and the visceral real being an impossibility on the current digital landscape. The thin veil of performance and suspension of disbelief anyone must have to encounter anything on the internet. It's so unreal! its so real!

Objects

The archival resources and rabbit holes of internet "theorists". Old blog posts and forums of early internet, the exponentially growing mound of media in the form of TikTok, YouTube, Instagram. Specifically the video essay farm on YouTube - media analysis or "tea" reporters. Horrible YouTube thumbnails. MS paint fetish art.

Idea summary

The work will consist of 3 layers of media focused on performance and the screen in a hyper-online shape. This passage will be written like I am describing fictional personas, and they are at once fictional, real, strangers, and all me. 0.5. Chair porn. i intend to recreate a corny porno with chairs. No voice over but just silence, wood creaking, subtitles of furniture delight. 1. This chair porn will have a chair porn creator, dedicated to the point of obsession to creating and documenting the process of creating chair porn. This person becomes an internet staple, akin to Chris Chan and her creation of sonichu. Art born of chronically online shaky mspaint lines and divine magnum opus of a not so sane creator in a constantly exposed online environment. This is genuine. 2. This internet persona and his craft will become a sort of lolcow. A spectacle to watch, analyse and document. Video essays and archives spawn from internet "theorists". Forums discussing this person, informal documentaries (youtube videos), essays. They are now a piece of internet history by no means of their own actions. They may not have been monumental, but they have become a part of the public internet consciousness. One specific video essay is made, going through the entire history of chair porn maker, analysing their practice and work, proposing theories and conspiracies. 3. I, Connor Chen, have strong opinions on this video essay discussing chair porn maker and the legacy of chair porn. I will present my opinion in a lecture theatre, playing the video essay on the screen and pause intermittently to voice my thoughts and objections. 3.5 I will record this and submit it as the final version.

After talking with Harry and figuring most of the stuff above out, he asked me what I was critiquing and I realised not much. I'm not so much critiquing these themes, (the pervasiveness of contemporary social media due to technological advances, or the over exposure of the common man as a result of this, or the fast paced nature of information and media, or the so called internet "theorists" and the archives of information created in the exponentially expanding yet short history of the internet.) as much as I am simply fascinated by them. I cannot really separate myself from this enough to condemn it.

some thoughts below that I can't quite place right now.

Materiality

Performance / Immersion / Suspension of Disbelief / fiction

Irony and humor of the chronically online

absurdist theatre

chair porn - commodity fetishism - what can be fetishized?

exponential lore of the internet

authorship and authority in performance

inspirations / references:

Expanded Cinema essay - Synaesthetic Cinema and Polymorphous Eroticism

Chris Chan and Sonichu

Erik bunger

video essayists (more so tea channels than art analysists)

[brookstonalmanac]

Holidays 8.24

Holidays

Bartholomew Fair (UK)

Flag Day (Liberia)

Flitting Appreciation Day

Gaura Parba (Nepal)

International Day Against Intolerance, Discrimination and Violence Based on Musical Preferences, Lifestyle and Dress Code (UN)

International Strange Music Day

Kobe Bryant Day (Los Angeles)

Love a Geek Day

National #IAM911 Day

National Danny Day

National Emory Day

National Hydropower Day

National Knife Day

National Maryland Day

National Parks Day (Costa Rica)

National SKAM Artist Day

National Waffle Iron Day

Nostalgia Night (Uruguay)

Osiris Nativity (Ancient Egypt)

Pluto Demotion Day

Sam Spade Day

Schaferlauf (Germany)

Shooting Star Day

Single-Parent Family Day

Vesuvius Day

Waratambar (Thanksgiving; Papua New Guinea)

Wayzgoose (End-of-Summer Party)

Weather Complaint Day

We Love Memoirs Day

William Wilberforce Day

Winter Barley Day (French Republic)

World Gujarati Language Day

World Trainer’s Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Can-Opener Day

National Peach Pie Day

National Waffle Day

4th Thursday in August

National Bra Fitting Day [4th Thursday]

National Burger Day (a.k.a. Mr. Hyde National Burger Day; UK) [Thursday before August bank holiday]

Independence Days

Russia (from USSR, 1991)

Ukraine (from USSR, 1991)

Feast Days

Abbán of Ireland (Christian; Saint)

Alex Colville (Artology)

Arkwright (Positivist; Saint)

Aubrey Beardsley Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Aurea of Ostia (Christian; Saint)

Bartholomew the Apostle (Roman Catholic, Anglican) [mead drinkers, cheese merchants] *

Day of Our Lady of Sanity (Pagan)

Festival of Mania (Ancient Rome)

The Great In-Betweeny (Muppetism)

Gunnlöð Festival (Norse)

Irchard (a.k.a. Erthad) of Scotland (Christian; Saint)

Jeanne-Antide Thouret (Christian; Saint)

Lavinia Fontana (Artology)

Luna Festival (Ancient Rome)

Maria Micaela Desmaisieres (Christian; Saint)

Massa Candida (Martyrs of Utica, a.k.a. The White Mass; Christian; Martyrs)

Mundus Patet (Roman harvest feast)

Owen (Audoin) of Rouen (Christian; Saint) [Innkeepers]

Pluto Demotion Grieving Day (Pastafarian)

Willka Raymi (Ancient Incan; Peru)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Alice’s Restaurant (Film; 1969)

All Quiet on the Western Front (Film; 1930)

Buddy the Gee Man (WB LT Cartoon; 1935)

Chronic Town, by R.E.M. (EP; 1982)

The Facts of Life (TV Series; 1979)

Fantastic Voyage (Film; 1966)

Frank, by Squeeze (Album; 1989)

Get Together, recorded by The Youngbloods (Song; 1966)

Grace, by Jeff Buckley (Album; 1994)

Gravity and Grace, by Simone Weil (Philosophical Thoughts; 1947)

They Happytime Murders (Film; 2018)

The Harp in the South, by Ruth Park (Novel; 1948)

Jay and Silent Bob Stroke Back (Film; 2001)

Look What You Made Me Do, by Taylor Swift (Song; 2017)

Love Me Tender, recorded by Elvis Presley (Song; 1956)

Mockingjay, by Suzanne Collins (Novel; 2010) [#3]

Oh! The Grandeur, by Andrew Bird with Bowl of Fire (Album; 1999)

Pump Up the Volume (Film; 1990)

Rock ’N’ Roll High School (Film; 1979)

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, by Tom Stoppard (Play; 1966)

Saludos Amigos (Disney Animated Film; 1942)

Tattoo You, by The Rolling Stones (Album; 1981)

Teenage Dream, by Katy Perry (Album; 2010)

3 Ring Wing-Ding (WB LT Cartoon; 1968)

Tortilla Soup (Film; 2001)

Violin and Piano Sonata (K526), by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Sonata; 1787)

The Witches (Film; 1990)

Today’s Name Days

Bartholomäus, Isolde, Michaela (Austria)

Aurea, Bariša, Bartol, Bartolomej, Bartul, Zlata (Croatia)

Bartoloměj (Czech Republic)

Bartholomæus (Denmark)

Albert, Berta, Pärt, Pärtel (Estonia)

Bertta, Perttu (Finland)

Barthélémy (France)

Bartholomäus, Isolde, Michaela (Germany)

Aitolia, Eftihis (Greece)

Bertalan (Hungary)

Bartolomeo, Genesio, Giuliano (Italy)

Bertolds, Bertrams, Berts, Bertulis, Boleslavs (Latvia)

Alicija, Baltramiejus, Baltrus, Rasuolė, Viešvilas (Lithuania)

Belinda, Bertil (Norway)

Bartłomiej, Cieszymir, Jerzy, Joanna, Malina, Michalina (Poland)

Bartolomej (Slovakia)

Bartolomé, Emilia (Spain)

Bartolomeus (Sweden)

Baird, Bard, Bart, Barth, Bartholomew, Bowen, Evan, Ewan, Keon, Owen (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 236 of 2024; 129 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 4 of week 34 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Coll (Hazel) [Day 17 of 28]

Chinese: Month 7 (Geng-Shen), Day 9 (Jia-Yin)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 7 Elul 5783

Islamic: 7 Safar 1445

J Cal: 26 Hasa; Fiveday [26 of 30]

Julian: 11 August 2023

Moon: 50%: 1st Quarter

Positivist: 12 Gutenberg (9th Month) [Arkwright]

Runic Half Month: As (Gods) [Day 12 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 64 of 94)

Zodiac: Virgo (Day 3 of 32)

[brookston]

Holidays 8.24

Holidays

Bartholomew Fair (UK)

Flag Day (Liberia)

Flitting Appreciation Day

Gaura Parba (Nepal)

International Day Against Intolerance, Discrimination and Violence Based on Musical Preferences, Lifestyle and Dress Code (UN)

International Strange Music Day

Kobe Bryant Day (Los Angeles)

Love a Geek Day

National #IAM911 Day

National Danny Day

National Emory Day

National Hydropower Day

National Knife Day

National Maryland Day

National Parks Day (Costa Rica)

National SKAM Artist Day

National Waffle Iron Day

Nostalgia Night (Uruguay)

Osiris Nativity (Ancient Egypt)

Pluto Demotion Day

Sam Spade Day

Schaferlauf (Germany)

Shooting Star Day

Single-Parent Family Day

Vesuvius Day

Waratambar (Thanksgiving; Papua New Guinea)

Wayzgoose (End-of-Summer Party)

Weather Complaint Day

We Love Memoirs Day

William Wilberforce Day

Winter Barley Day (French Republic)

World Gujarati Language Day

World Trainer’s Day

Food & Drink Celebrations

Can-Opener Day

National Peach Pie Day

National Waffle Day

4th Thursday in August

National Bra Fitting Day [4th Thursday]

National Burger Day (a.k.a. Mr. Hyde National Burger Day; UK) [Thursday before August bank holiday]

Independence Days

Russia (from USSR, 1991)

Ukraine (from USSR, 1991)

Feast Days

Abbán of Ireland (Christian; Saint)

Alex Colville (Artology)

Arkwright (Positivist; Saint)

Aubrey Beardsley Day (Church of the SubGenius; Saint)

Aurea of Ostia (Christian; Saint)

Bartholomew the Apostle (Roman Catholic, Anglican) [mead drinkers, cheese merchants] *

Day of Our Lady of Sanity (Pagan)

Festival of Mania (Ancient Rome)

The Great In-Betweeny (Muppetism)

Gunnlöð Festival (Norse)

Irchard (a.k.a. Erthad) of Scotland (Christian; Saint)

Jeanne-Antide Thouret (Christian; Saint)

Lavinia Fontana (Artology)

Luna Festival (Ancient Rome)

Maria Micaela Desmaisieres (Christian; Saint)

Massa Candida (Martyrs of Utica, a.k.a. The White Mass; Christian; Martyrs)

Mundus Patet (Roman harvest feast)

Owen (Audoin) of Rouen (Christian; Saint) [Innkeepers]

Pluto Demotion Grieving Day (Pastafarian)

Willka Raymi (Ancient Incan; Peru)

Lucky & Unlucky Days

Sakimake (先負 Japan) [Bad luck in the morning, good luck in the afternoon.]

Premieres

Alice’s Restaurant (Film; 1969)

All Quiet on the Western Front (Film; 1930)

Buddy the Gee Man (WB LT Cartoon; 1935)

Chronic Town, by R.E.M. (EP; 1982)

The Facts of Life (TV Series; 1979)

Fantastic Voyage (Film; 1966)

Frank, by Squeeze (Album; 1989)

Get Together, recorded by The Youngbloods (Song; 1966)

Grace, by Jeff Buckley (Album; 1994)

Gravity and Grace, by Simone Weil (Philosophical Thoughts; 1947)

They Happytime Murders (Film; 2018)

The Harp in the South, by Ruth Park (Novel; 1948)

Jay and Silent Bob Stroke Back (Film; 2001)

Look What You Made Me Do, by Taylor Swift (Song; 2017)

Love Me Tender, recorded by Elvis Presley (Song; 1956)

Mockingjay, by Suzanne Collins (Novel; 2010) [#3]

Oh! The Grandeur, by Andrew Bird with Bowl of Fire (Album; 1999)

Pump Up the Volume (Film; 1990)

Rock ’N’ Roll High School (Film; 1979)

Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, by Tom Stoppard (Play; 1966)

Saludos Amigos (Disney Animated Film; 1942)

Tattoo You, by The Rolling Stones (Album; 1981)

Teenage Dream, by Katy Perry (Album; 2010)

3 Ring Wing-Ding (WB LT Cartoon; 1968)

Tortilla Soup (Film; 2001)

Violin and Piano Sonata (K526), by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (Sonata; 1787)

The Witches (Film; 1990)

Today’s Name Days

Bartholomäus, Isolde, Michaela (Austria)

Aurea, Bariša, Bartol, Bartolomej, Bartul, Zlata (Croatia)

Bartoloměj (Czech Republic)

Bartholomæus (Denmark)

Albert, Berta, Pärt, Pärtel (Estonia)

Bertta, Perttu (Finland)

Barthélémy (France)

Bartholomäus, Isolde, Michaela (Germany)

Aitolia, Eftihis (Greece)

Bertalan (Hungary)

Bartolomeo, Genesio, Giuliano (Italy)

Bertolds, Bertrams, Berts, Bertulis, Boleslavs (Latvia)

Alicija, Baltramiejus, Baltrus, Rasuolė, Viešvilas (Lithuania)

Belinda, Bertil (Norway)

Bartłomiej, Cieszymir, Jerzy, Joanna, Malina, Michalina (Poland)

Bartolomej (Slovakia)

Bartolomé, Emilia (Spain)

Bartolomeus (Sweden)

Baird, Bard, Bart, Barth, Bartholomew, Bowen, Evan, Ewan, Keon, Owen (USA)

Today is Also…

Day of Year: Day 236 of 2024; 129 days remaining in the year

ISO: Day 4 of week 34 of 2023

Celtic Tree Calendar: Coll (Hazel) [Day 17 of 28]

Chinese: Month 7 (Geng-Shen), Day 9 (Jia-Yin)

Chinese Year of the: Rabbit 4721 (until February 10, 2024)

Hebrew: 7 Elul 5783

Islamic: 7 Safar 1445

J Cal: 26 Hasa; Fiveday [26 of 30]

Julian: 11 August 2023

Moon: 50%: 1st Quarter

Positivist: 12 Gutenberg (9th Month) [Arkwright]

Runic Half Month: As (Gods) [Day 12 of 15]

Season: Summer (Day 64 of 94)

Zodiac: Virgo (Day 3 of 32)