#that isn't worth pursuing but it does make me sad

[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 ^__^

#svthub #seventeen smut #wonwoo smut #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #lovelyhan #full-length fic 📚 #wonwoo x oc #wonwoo x reader

[mcflymemes]

AS SAID BY CASSANDRA PENTAGHAST  *  assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

the truth is more important than my reputation, and anyone willing to accuse me of weakness is welcome to try.

i cannot stop thinking of our earlier discussion.

you enjoy making things complicated, don't you?

you can't be serious.

i simply wanted to steal a moment, while i still can.

i will not let him take you from me.

i want a man who sweeps me off my feet, who gives me flowers and reads me poetry by candlelight. i want the ideal.

pretend you don't know this about me.

the flirting. with me. i've... noticed it. unless it is my imagination, which is entirely possible.

i'm thinking less flattering things now.

perhaps this would be a good time to stop talking.

what makes you think i would welcome your pity?

you so rarely call me by my name, [name]. why is that?

you were together for a long time?

i enjoy fighting at your side, [name].

you're not as handsome as you think.

romance is not the sole province of dithering ladies in frilly dresses. it is passion. it is being swept away by the pursuit of an ideal. what is not to like about that?

i was hoping we could speak privately.

you're smiling a great deal these days. do you always do it while staring dreamily into the distance?

such fascinations reveal far more about the teller than the truth.

i did not realize it took so little to exceed your expectations.

i do not trust any event where hitting someone isn't an option.

me? in a dress? it's ludicrous!

what would i have to blush about?

i take it you think i'm frightening?

if you had done that in our last sparring match, you might have won.

were you not suggesting earlier i should be more intimidating?

how is manipulating and bullying people supposed to be enjoyable?

i don't wear "underpants."

if you are going to pursue this, make it worth it. be happy.

i've never considered what i must look like to someone common. i must indeed seem terrifying.

i wasn't very interested to begin with.

you will never let that go, will you?

i do not "rough people up."

do not pretend to be an innocent bystander.

are you eager to see me go?

what we had was fleeting.

this... is not a discussion i want to have here.

not all my feelings involve stabbing.

i am not without my sympathy, especially given recent events.

i thought you might be concerned.

i suppose that is all we will ever know.

thank you, [name]. that... does make me feel better.

i assume you have advice?

when it is done, i promise what you have done here will not be forgotten.

i thought you would be pleased.

no one has ever accused me of reinforcing reality before.

i should not have asked.

you have seen so much sadness in your journeys.

your opinion of me must be very low to surprise you so often.

i know myself and i cannot be the leader we need. thus, i have no regrets.

the world hinges on our actions. we face death at every turn.

it was an accident. well... mostly an accident.

we must pray it never comes to that.

what made you change your mind?

#dragon age #dragon age inquisition #cassandra pentaghast #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask meme #roleplay meme #ask memes #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #mcflymemes

[sassasafreeaction]

While The Resurrectionist minisode gives us a lot of different things, one of the most important things that it gives us is the concept of plausible deniability and how important it is for Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship.

In the episode, Crowley drinks literal poison, and while he gets to be very silly, he also gets to be a more honest and genuine version of himself. He gets to do good, and when Aziraphale points this out, he immediately throws in the rebuttal - "Not kind! Off my head on laudanum."

Now, the next time he sees Aziraphale, he asks for holy water, so it's hard to say how much deniability the laudanum actually gave him. At the same time though, Crowley is still around and not eliminated.

The only real effect that a supernatural being seems to experience with poison is drunkness, which in a way I guess makes sense because alcohol is its own poison. However, it's also a poison that the two of them regularly partake in.

A lot of the more serious and genuine conversations that the two of them have happen while they're drinking, when they have that level of plausible deniability. It would be so easy for one of them to say something and take it back under the ruse of being drunk and not knowing what they're doing or saying, even though they both know that it takes an extraordinary amount of alcohol or a strong poison for them to actually be drunk.

The first example we see is in the bookshop after Crowley has delivered the Antichrist, and he's trying to convince Aziraphale to help him. When they had met up initially, Aziraphale had adamantly refused to help him, but once they're safe in the bookshop with several bottles of wine in their system, Aziraphale is honest for the first time about his feelings on the situation. "I don't like it anymore than you."

Sure, they sober up shortly after that, but it isn't until there is that liquid courage/plausible deniability in their system that he's even willing to dare to start to humor the thought.

(In Hard Times, you do have them sharing a drink together in Rome. It's the first time where they seem to genuinely indicate that they'd be interested in actively pursuing the other's company. There's less to pick a part because it's so short, but worth mentioning, especially because the entire time the two of them talk, they have a drink in their hand.)

The next time we see either of them drinking is right after Crowley has left the bookshop fire. A lot of people drink when they're sad, so that's not the most exciting, but he is drinking because he's sad about Aziraphale, his "best friend," and while Hell probably doesn't care because they have bigger things on their mind, it still gives that placebo level of protection.

Side note, there's a strong chance that if Crowley does remember the Fall that this is probably the most accurate description since he's the most open we've probably seen him in the show here- essentially talking crap at the Heavenly Watercooler with the boys and then ending up in a boiling pit of sulfur.

The Script Book has a line that I think is super worth mentioning as Crowley says, "Aziraphale? I'm trying to get drunk. Failing." It emphasizes how much of a cover drinking has become for them, and that the act of pretending is more important than genuinely being drunk. Also, Crowley doesn't try to hide from Aziraphale. He doesn't specifically say "I thought I lost you," but he looks absolutely wrecked. The way Aziraphale pauses in return makes me feel like he has to know, but also, they're idiots.

The two of them also share a drink before the Swap, and they get rather philosophical in regards to the Almighty. This is also the first and only time that Crowley uses the phrase 'We're on our side' and Aziraphale doesn't have a rebuttal.

At the end of Season 1, they're at the Ritz, drinking of course, and it's here where both of them tease at how they genuinely feel about the other. The drinking is on the light side though, so we don't get anything more concrete than 'To the World'. (Although the way that Aziraphale looks at him and says that phrase still makes me weak.)

Season 2 sees Crowley offering Aziraphale his first drink. The angel refuses but Bildad still gets his drink on. This is the first time that Crowley introduces the concept of not being on Hell's side.

(Also, he just watches Aziraphale pleasure himself enjoy some ox ribs which is freaking wild. I'm pretty sure everyone has analyzed the undertones of this scene to death, but there's drinking involved so it makes the cut.)

After speaking with Heaven and Hell, Crowley and Aziraphale get together at the pub to discuss their new plan. They both have a single drink, but you have the chest touch and Crowley talking about falling in love in the rain (ya know like he did).

In 1941, following the magic act, we have them drinking again. Crowley asks Aziraphale to retire the act, and then there is an important beat as they get ready to start a more serious conversation. As soon as Aziraphale decides to take them toward more serious territory, he tops off Crowley's glass. They again tease at the concept of 'our side' by discussing the morally grey.

Now, in S2E6, Crowley mentions to Muriel about taking Aziraphale for an extremely alcoholic breakfast at The Ritz, which to me suggests that even without Maggie and Nina talking with him, Crowley likely would have confessed.

However, in Episode 5, when Crowley is sitting at the restaurant, the first thing he does after getting Aziraphale's attention is ask if he wants a glass of wine. Aziraphale tells him "I'm at work and I have a meeting". I feel like this was almost the original confession from Crowley. Forgive me because I can't find the post, but I know someone has pointed out some of the other parts things that indicate this (Crowley's is the only table with a rose, him walking right into the 'smitten' phrasing because he thought that might make a good transition, etc. I'm really sorry I didn't find it right away when I scrolled and I gave up.) I think the wine speaks a lot to it though because it allows for the same song and dance of if this doesn't work out, I can always blame it on the alcohol.

Now you could say that the two of them just really enjoy alcohol and its a coincidence, but there are an angel and a demon who also happen to meet a pub. Gabriel gets himself and Beelzebub a beer, but the two of them never drink them.

Unlike Aziraphale and Crowley, they have the luxury of power to protect them. They don't need to have the plausible deniability because as far as they're concerned, they answer to no one.

Maggie, a human, also turns down alcohol while she's with Nina. Nina needs the liquid courage, but she doesn't. She has no interest in alcohol. However, Nina is in a sticky situation with her partner. Maggie carries a torch for Nina, but she's also brave enough to be the first one to offer a gift and indicate how she genuinely feels about her. They're both human, so they can be honest with one another.

I'm sure drinks will probably still be important in Season 3, but I wouldn't be surprised if they have a scene where either Aziraphale or Crowley actively turns down a drink because they no longer need to hide.

#i spent entirely too long on this #i forgot to eat dinner. I'm gonna do that now I guess. #I wanted to contribute to the meta i guess #this makes me feel like I'm in a college english class again and i fucking love it #I missed this shit so much #if anyone can think of scenes I'm missing please feel free to add them #good omens #good omens 2

[bestbonnist]

Chapter 171.1

The battle between the immortals is played for laughs, but the way that each of their arguments is connected to their core character traits makes me think it's indicative of more deeply ingrained conflicts. Let's break it down!

Tonari's same old same old. She feels indebted to the people she loves, Fushi especially, and believes that if she wants to be around them, she needs to be able to pull her weight. She doesn't think she has any helpful skills apart from a base level of poison resistance, so that's what she focuses on. Tonari puts a lot of emphasis on how "useful" it is when she dies, on whether or not her death helped her friends or not. She puts herself down and uses herself like a tool for the sake of the people she loves.

Gugu is similar to Tonari in that he uses his body like a tool for the benefit of his friends. As an impoverished, abandoned child—also very similar to Tonari—Gugu thought his only attribute was physical labor, especially after he had his accident and from his point of view, lost his humanity. Gugu got into his accident in the first place because he put himself in harm's way to save Rynn. It's a mark of how little he values his safety.

The main difference between Gugu and Tonari, in this case, is that Tonari sees herself the same as other people, which is to say: bad. Humanity is all a bunch of assholes, and she's no different. Her friends are the rare exception. Whereas Gugu sees all of humanity as fundamentally good. And Gugu, being a monster, is below them. So Gugu is willing to lay down his life for everyone, and Tonari is willing to do it for the people she loves (yes I know she literally says she does it "for everyone" but she's only talking about the people in the park with her).

Messar says that he's enjoying his life but he keeps dying in horrible ways. He froze to death nine fucking times and hasn't learned his lesson. Is that really enjoyable? It seems more like he's disguising a disregard for his own well-being as freedom. And as Hylo says, he has no purpose, so he's just kind of stagnant right now. It's, uh... It's giving depression.

If Messar is too hedonistic, then Hylo is too restrained. By setting goals for himself, like saving all of Renryrr or becoming a baker, he's able to get a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment that makes him happy. But he has no chill. Those goals are the will to live that he thinks are so important. Without those goals, he's no different than Messar. Only Messar is able to find the worth of moments spent doing nothing.

This is also literally the same shit they said in Chapter 165.1. This argument has been going on for five hundred years.

Messar "left unhappiness back in Renryrr," referring to when Alme died. His reason for living was to protect her, he was literally unable to move after she died and got killed by a knocker. Moving on is all well and good, but if his recklessness is any indication, he hasn't moved on at all, he's just trying not to think about it. As Hylo—who has actually done the work to move forward after the loss of his foster mother—points out, you can't really call that happy. Hylo is so harsh on Messar because he used to be aimless as well. But Hylo found something to pursue in the Renryrr arc and Messar isn't even looking.

In her first life, March agreed to be sacrificed because it was the way to keep the most people safe. She didn't want her friend or her little sister and their parents to be hurt, so she went along with Hayase's plan. She also died saving Parona's life. At this point in time her idea of a good life/good death was similar to Tonari's and Gugu's—that is, to use her death to make the people she loves happy. But as a ghost, she saw firsthand how much her death affected Parona. Being dead wasn't better for the people around her like she thought it was. Now the way she doesn't make everyone sad is by staying alive. She encourages others to do the same, as seen in this chapter when she chastises Messar for not taking care of himself.

March also takes this into account during important decisions, like when Fushi consults their friends on whether they should take the Beholder's powers or not and she calmly tells them that the choice is theirs. A huge difference from the time she freaked out when they told her they would be losing consciousness indefinitely at the end of the previous era. March's way of living is at odds with Tonari and Gugu's way of dying, but they're all dedicating themselves to the people they love.

Bon doesn't get involved in arguments, ever since the Renryrr arc he's relegated himself to a mediator/advisor role. He avoids having any contrary opinions and goes with what will placate the most people. I can't say much more about him because he almost never gives away what he's really thinking (sadly he is not a perspective character anymore), but this is definitely a continuing pattern. It's a shame because he's actually pretty good at decision making, although he stepped down due to the number of poor choices he made during the Renryrr arc.

Kai, and Eko don't care very much about the best death argument, which doubles as a "whose life has the most meaning" argument. I wonder if it's because they found a reason to live by working as mechanics and transferring their good points to people within the system, so they don't feel as insecure about it.

Well, that's that! I think their squabbling was a neat way to introduce the issues that'll be explored in this arc and to show how Fushi's friends have adjusted to immortality. The doll point blank asks them why they're alive, and in a roundabout way she gets an answer: they're alive to die.

#i was going to put this together with my meta for 171.2 but then i remembered why i don't do that. but by then this was already late. #fumetsu no anata e #to your eternity #to you the immortal #fnae #tye #fnae manga #fnae spoilers #fnae anime spoilers #fnae manga spoilers #wish era #at the ends of power #chapter 171.1 #tonari #tonari dalton #gugu #messar robin bastar #hylo rich #march #original post #meta

[autismtana]

santana lopez has adhd (part 2)

^the adhd/lesbian flags^

(*disclaimer: i have adhd myself and work in education/educational psychology, which is the basis of this post in which i get wayyyyy too analytical about a fictional character; however, i'm not a psychiatrist or doctor and am not qualified to diagnose real people with adhd or anything else ... seriously, our only representation is cis white boys whose adhd is an explanation for them being the class clown and treated as a joke so please don't get salty at me for claiming a fictional character that isn't a cis white boy as part of the adhd gang)

(credit to @dojasrivera on twitter for making the og adhd!santana thread; i unfortunately wasn’t able to see it as i only found out about it after their original twitter account got suspended but there may be some overlap between their thread and this post)

sup homies, as you know, tumblr cut me off so i had to make a part 2. (here's part 1)

ambitious but lacking in direction - noted terrible educator will schuester describes santana as being "unfocused" in 3x16.  she's indecisive about college in the latter half of season 3, initially says she wants to go then flip-flops, and then goes to louisville (fun fact: donovan mitchell also went there) for a short period of time then drops out.  after that she has a bunch of projects and career goals that never really go anywhere. (partially thanks to the lazy writing on the show)

fear of failure - santana wanted to go to new york after graduation but initially wanted to stay behind when she found out brittany wasn't graduating (like immediately), then chose to take the scholarship to louisville despite brittany and quinn both pointing out that she had the cash from her parents to pursue her dreams in new york (brittany was a lot more supportive and less judgy though). she did end up going after unpacking her anxiety around it with britt though.

low self-esteem, anxiety and/or depression - season 2 is what i like to refer to as "santana lopez's sad gay era", however i'd also argue that season 4 until mid season 5 (when she reunites with brittany) is kind of a low period for her as well.  the break-up is painful for both of them.  they're one another's safe people so when they don't have each other in close proximity, both of them experience depression.  i would also consider her demeanour at the beginning of 5x09 as an example of her exhibiting signs of depression. santana also experiences a lot of anxiety around her interpersonal relationships (pretty much all of season 2, 4x16, 5x09-5x13); in 5x18 it's very apparent that she's scarred by the experience with auditioning for rachel's understudy part and doesn't want to intrude on mercedes (thankfully, mercedes is awesome, we love mercedes jones here, themostrandomfandom does a great job of analysing this storyline here). it's also worth noting that despite how clumsily she goes about things, santana lopez is the most loyal, ride-or-die person on this damn show (she's definitely a gryffindor or hufflepuff who thinks she's a slytherin despite my less than positive thoughts on the transphobic lady's book series, or - in the context of the superior book series - a mary anne who thinks she’s a claudia) but the only acknowledgement she gets is shame, so she internalises it to give people an "out" ("I'm numb to people's feelings", "I have no heart").

can be easily distracted (while also hyperfocused on other things) - has a tendency to zone out of conversations (credit to @santanaslawyer on twitter) and couldn't remember her locker combo around brittany (although some of that could have also been santana being in her sad gay era and pining over britt)

narrow window of tolerance - santana was completely done with everyone's shit like all the time

strong sense of justice - homegirl uses her bitch powers to protect the people she cares about (see 2x17, 3x11, 5x18). other people aren't allowed to make fun of her mates, that's her job, dammit! she's also proactive in reporting mr schuester's lack of efficiency as a spanish teacher not because she dislikes him (which she doesn't; she might roll her eyes at him all the time but she does actually like him as a person) but because his teaching promotes offensive stereotypes, harms her and negatively affects everyone's education (and to her credit she is way more patient and charitable to him than he deserves when he literally chastises her in front of everyone for doing it). she will also challenge authority in situations where she is being held to a different standard to others. in 3x07, when figgins is considering suspending santana, she pushes back against it (rightfully so) because she doesn't understand how there isn't a zero-tolerance policy for violence when finn and puck get into it in the middle of school, or when the glee club get slushied, or when kurt is repeatedly physically assaulted by karofsky, but she slaps finn (after he outed her) and this policy suddenly exists. same applies in 3x13 when finn and rachel are allowed to have very graphic PDAs at school with no complaint from the authorities, but santana and brittany have one chaste peck and it's the end of the world, and she rightfully tells figgins that there's a double standard.

(really random) hyperfixations - it's a popular glee headcanon that santana spends a lot of time researching random shit on wikipedia (which she probably did the night before her wedding so she could explain to britt about the superstition around the bride/groom not seeing each other before the wedding) based on the absolute batshit cultural references she comes out with. she makes the most random cultural references (e.g. comparing rory to the great gazoo, which is a really random side-character from the flintstones), and has somewhat of a fascination with lizards (2x04, 2x12).  she also just randomly made an entire voodoo doll of rachel berry just for shits and giggles, like … wtf

lack of spatial awareness - so this one's mostly just naya rivera's physical comedy, but ... in the nicest possible way ... santana's a tad bit unco, isn't she? (see: her very charming wacky inflatable arm-waving tube person dancing in 3x08, the scene where she literally walks headfirst into a balloon in 3x22 and the scene in 5x17 where she gets attacked by pigeons).

hyperactive - santana's abuela put her in ballet classes because she was "such a tomboy and it really pissed [her] dad off"; obviously we know she had a mullet and dressed up as uncle jesse from full house for halloween (and she knows how to tie a tie, thanks again sarah) - those are obviously aesthetic things but "tomboy" can also be code for "hyperactive" in afab people (particularly if santana's grandmother was of the "children should be seen and not heard" generation).

#santana lopez #glee headcanons #glee #brittana #adhd #glee meta #neurodiversity #adhd santana

[cursemewithyourkiss]

Or put your favourite type of ending in the tags!

#hope this will reach the themes and symbols enjoyers <3 #my post #my polls

[tomwambsgans]

i'm not saying that tom doesn't *actually* love shiv but what i am saying is that there is genuinely an isolated sort of sadness to the end of a relationship, literally no matter what happened in that relationship. like look at how many couples repeatedly cheat on each other and fight and break up and just keep getting back together bc regardless of the strife, to so many people, it simply feels worth it to Be Together. to have a partner. i spent a good half of a 2+ years long relationship thinking (albeit on and off) about how much i wanted out of it and how inevitable a breakup was, and wished that i could just one day wake up into the reality where it wasn't a thing - only to be inexplicably shocked when he broke up with me, and to try to fix it and convince him that the relationship was fine, and then be depressed about that breakup and incapable of pursuing other relationships for basically a whole year after. like, attachment to a person (and subsequently the love of them) is very often rooted in the stability that they bring to your life, whether much happiness is part of that stability or not. that's what tom means by the sad with shiv vs the sad without shiv. actual happiness isn't a promised part of either option, but in one of them he has a partner, someone he's known for years.

as far as the love he has for shiv as its own independent concept, i'd just really love to see it get deconstructed, since we can mean so many different things when we say love, and our cultural expectations for how it's expressed and the relationships we grew up seeing as an ideal are so incredibly wrapped up in that. you could say people love simply when they want to, and the definition of it is subjective due to being immeasurable, that for each person love is whatever they decide in any moment to call love - and further, there's all the factors that can even go into that Decision alone. this also of course means that the *feeling* of love in and of itself is not a good reason or justification for anything as it relates to yourself and other people who feel love differently, least of all huge committments. like marriage. it's just far from enough.

love is romanticized as a feeling but it's also a choice, because emotions are fluid and mutable and some people/cultures understand this more intuitively than others. i think tom is one of those people, as it seems pretty clear that "this person makes me happy" is not a prerequisite for him to say that he loves someone. meanwhile shiv, i think, grapples a lot with this. she loves tom because she clearly does make those choices, but because she doesn't love tom in the way that he needs her to - the passionate, romantic western ideal, that is, aka the way the average person wants it - she probably sometimes wonders whether or not she actually does, and it makes her feel bad about herself. she tries to deflect, to decide that actually no it's LOVE that IS the problem, love is bullshit, it's made up, etc. the main thing that she has ever clung to re: defining her relationship with tom as a positive one is their history together, and the subsequent fact that tom uniquely understands her and is/was capable of comforting her.

all this to say that I really do think that a bit of the thesis of tomshiv IS the fact that love is not enough, exemplified by shiv's monologue about love on their wedding night. shiv was right that love is a million different things, but (i'd argue) she's wrong that thats a bad thing. what both tom and shiv missed, too, was that there's affection, there's desire, there's commitment, and most importantly there's compatibility. and the lack of those things between them consistently is why they simply cannot and should not work.

#tomshiv #mine #meta #i had this drafted since 4x1 and it feels right to post now

[yanderefreud]

also i want you to rank the multiversal stevetonies: 1872, 616, ults, mcu, and any others you want to include ✨

OOOOO BOY. Okay

So number one is extremely unsurprisingly going to be 616. They're the ogs and absolutely no one does it like them. The slow burn, the extremely unresolved homoeroticism, and the angst (the ANGST!!!!!),, all of that is just unparalleled. None can compete with that much lore and all those moments of them just saying sappy gay shit like "you gave me a home" or "i'm not half as good at anything as i am when i'm doing it next to you", or absolutely heart-wrenching things like "it wasn't worth it" or "he loved you, and he admired you, even when you fought"

After some deliberation with my own self I have decided that 1610 (Marvel Ultimates) is my second favourite. I just love the dynamic A LOT. Imagine you're this repressed homosexual man who was transported a billion years into the future and you fall in love with the most obnoxious man ever and then you find out he's dying. The struggle of reconciling with your own self and then trying to pursue something with someone who might as well be dead. There are just so many possibilities

MCU is going to be a respectable third. I have a lot of fondness for it because it is what introduced me to stevetony (when I first saw the helicarrier scene all I remember was thinking "these guys have sexual tension and I want to be there when they resolve it"). One complaint I have is the initial hostility that they had, because I think A LOT of people got hung up on that lmao. I don't really watch marvel movies anymore, not even old ones bc they just make me sad :-(. Still, they have some absolutely incredible moments like "i'm home" or "do you trust me" "i do" and "i thought you and Tony were still gazing into each other's eyes (thanks natasha)"

1872... Oh 1872. I have a lot of feelings and not enough Canon content, and that's the only reason why it's so low on the list. I love how Steve was literally the CATALYST for Tony becoming Iron man like. That is so sick omg... He was so grief-stricken that he literally went mad. I also fucking love their interactions "I think you pulled enough corks for today, Stark. It ain't even noon" "oh why hello there sherif. I guess you have nothing better to do than infringe on my constitutionally guaranteed right to pursue happiness (can't argue w that ngl)"

Avengers Assemble!! I actually fucking love them ngl but the reason why they're number five is that there isn't enough angst. Where is the bloodshed and death and tears????? I need to see grown men crying and screaming in agony thanks. Other than that, I love their dynamic and how fucking domestic they are. They are so married they're making my parents look single omg like GET A ROOM GUYS. My favourite thing that Steve ever said in that show was "iron or not, you're still the man" hell yeah boy get that dick

Marvel's avengers 2020 (the video game!!). God. I did not play it myself but I have seen Stevetony scenes and they are so SICK. Tony being so fucking DEVASTATED at Steve's death is really entertaining and makes me very happy. He should continue being sad hehe >:-))

Other than that, I haven't seen any other universes w them in it. There's EMH, and I'm planning to watch it eventually (I'll let you know what I think!) and as for 3490, I think that needs a separate post in itself. I hope this answered your question hehe ty <33333

#asks #stevetony #marvel 616 #marvel ultimates #mcu #avengers assemble

[erstwhilesparrow]

double life fic recs

organized by session! (i.e., fics under session 4 will have spoilers up to and including session 4, fics under session 5 will have spoilers for session 5, etc.)

session 1:

these old ghosts; Thunderbirds_and_Lightning - Team Rancher Pacific Rim AU. Brutally sad, but also features: a terrific action sequence, gorgeous prose, unspeakable grief about Flower Husbands, and incredible jaeger and kaiju names.

the right thing; sparxwrites - Cleo and Scott talk the night after the first session. Short and tender and sort of a character study for all of Divorce Quartet despite the other two not being there. Joe Hills, despite also not being there, is a significant presence, which I think really elevates the whole experience.

session 2:

all is fair in love and war but i can't fight with you anymore; wizardlover - Scarian angst with a happy ending. Scar isn't stupid and also he should be allowed to go apeshit. The author is correct on both counts about this. Works out to be very sweet. (Psst. This author does great Scarian just in general -- it is worth checking out the other works in the series this fic is in!)

Detail of the Fire; canarydarity - Team Rancher hurt/comfort, patching each other up after the fire. This one feels a little like walking slowly through an art gallery -- lingering on beautiful / stately / lonely images. Inspired by a Richard Siken poem and does fun things with excerpts from the poem.

those were kinder times; SurrealSupernaturalist - Team Rancher Actually-Ranchers-Not-In-A-Death-Game AU! They escape to a farm and go on a healing arc that is nearly 10k words long. Incredibly sweet, domestic, and warm, plus angst about Jimmy as Omen of Misfortune.

session 3:

[When BigB returned from his rendezvous with Grian,]; orangeocelotmartyn - Ren and Bigb go red and figure out that this isn't going to work. They eat golden apples about it. Very good for Bigb and Ren talking about their relationship! Parting ways basically amicably! Realizing the soulmate thing is bullshit and they can and will pursue what they want!

under my skin?; Sixteenthdays - The soulbound pairs discover that their partnerships are literally, physically changing them. Features snapshot scenes from every soulbound pair as they attempt to cope with this change to varying degrees of success. A total delight all around.

you're the fool, i'm just as well; honeyblock - Pearl gets sick. Scott attempts to soldier through the effects this is having on him to deal with her. Contains: really fun / creative / piercing turns of phrase, Scott and Pearl doing that thing where it feels like they almost understand each other and then everything falls apart again, soulbonds being upsetting.

to catch a secret soulmate; wormcity - The entire server gets looped in on an attempt to find Bigb's secret soulmate. Bets are made, shenanigans are had, the sitcom energy is through the roof. Incredible character voices, and also just generally really fucking funny.

rainy day; whatcaniwriteinthis - It's a rainy day on the Double Life server, and people are waiting it out, or finding ways to occupy themselves, or reflecting on the game so far. The narration style is lots of fun, and it perfectly captures the vibes of hanging out somewhere during a torrential downpour in the late afternoon.

session 4:

[Once a week, the double life players each get one phone call to someone in the outside world.]; dmwrites - The Double Life players make off-world phone calls after session four. They gossip, or pass along life updates, or share blueprints for death machines. Hilarious, and also makes me so goddamn sad about ZombieCleo.

Soulmate-Things With Other People; savannah_owl - During the Homewreckers's pool party, people sneak off in pairs to, shall we say, hang out without their soulmates. There are good times had all around. Features relationships from Third Life, Hermitcraft, and Last Life. (savannah_owl also just has a bunch of really good Double Life fic? Worth taking a look!)

session 5:

hit the ground running; jelliegiggle, rosycheeked - Scar and Grian have a talk at Bigb's grave. Bigb is not, of course, physically there, but it is very much a fic where someone's absence is distinct and palpable. Really really good Desertduo Being Sad And Complicated And Intertwined.

session 6:

[The room is a dim basement room.]; theminecraftbee - Pearl and Scott have a bad time. Superhero AU, featuring a clandestine meeting between two people who hate each other and have no one else who will ever know them the same way. Months after reading it, I'm still obsessed with this one.

and by resilient i mean which holds; TheYesterdayShow - Martyn and Cleo have a bad time. Canon divergent: Cleo and Martyn survive to the end, and wind up talking about what they were supposed to mean to each other and what happens next. Absolutely brilliant characterization for both of them.

sugar, we're going down swinging; BananasofThorns - Etho and Joel have a-- Wait. [checks notes] Okay, honestly, they seem like they're having a fine time. Canon divergence where after outliving every other pair, Boat Boys fight to the bloody death. It's incredibly pretty and perfectly paced.

#sparrowsong #double life #double life smp #fic recs tag #made myself a rule that i can't repeat authors but like. so many people on this list are good and have other excellent works #barely restraining myself from going 'please please please go read these people's fics they're so good' #also those session 6 fics especially are like. yeah. this was a crucial influence on how i write these characters. #tell me if any links are broken etc.

[utilitycaster]

Regarding people responding to the Gnarlrock scene between Imogen and Laudna by only focusing on how sad it makes Laudna, I have to wonder if it's another symptom of people ignoring what Laura Bailey does with her characters in favour of their own headcanons. There's a trend in fandom I've noticed, particularly in shipping spaces, that really "owo smol-bean"-ifies Imogen. Her problems exist not to drive her character forward and to give her conflict and development, but to be something Laudna can kiss and make better. So now that Imogen is having a (completely reasonable) issue with Laudna, people don't know how to reconcile that with the watered-down version of the character that exists in their heads.

I agree completely, and I'm grouping this with this other ask with which I also agree and then choosing extreme violence, after which I require that any further questions on this topic that aren't just "oh yeah makes sense" or whatever be both a. off anon and b. well-articulated with a reasoned argument and a thesis statement; anything else will be deleted.

Like, that's it in the end. How dare Laura's character be a independent being whose existence doesn't begin and end and fully center around someone else, whether it's her dead brother or a person with whom she's shipped? How dare she disagree with characters people like more? How dare she exercise any measure of agency that conflicts with the fandom's stupid-ass desires?

How dare Vex get married without Vax there even as he started his own relationship first and actively encouraged her to pursue her own romantic interests with her eventual husband? How dare she continue to live out her remaining 150 years of life without him and experience joy?

How dare Jester react positively when the person she'd indicated interest in reciprocated? How dare she choose a life of ongoing adventure and a home near her beloved mother instead of living as a housewife in a faraway foreign city where her god is illegal? How dare she not read the minds of the people who have crushes on her and know how they feel and respond accordingly?

How dare Imogen focus on her own, lifelong, painful problem and the loss of a potential solution instead of dropping everything and focusing on Laudna's problems instead? How dare she feel upset about this? How dare she get in the way of my fabricated picture of perfect girlfriends who have zero problems or obstacles?

How dare this woman be angry? How dare this woman have feelings I don't share about the situation? How dare this woman display even a shred of self-interest that isn't completely in service to someone else's goals? How dare that dumb bitch do what she wants and not what I want?

I deleted an ask this morning that was like "it feels like you're invalidating people who are sympathetic towards Laudna" like first off I'm specifically calling out people who are sympathetic towards Laudna and not towards Imogen which is absolutely crucial context and second of all yeah. I do not think you're valid. That's the fucking point. You're not entitled to my validation, and you don't have it. If you act like this? I think your opinions are garbage. If you need my agreement to feel valid, that's extremely not my problem (and, honestly, you're just giving me more proof as my whole point here is "sometimes people disagree with you and that is entirely their right and if you think the mere existence of disagreement is invalidating, you suck so fucking much.") Develop a sense of inherent self worth and/or develop better opinions, and either way, leave me out of it.

#did I not say I was wielding a spiked bat? I seem to recall I said I was wielding a spiked bat. #tenser's floating discourse #critical role spoilers

[messengerhermes]

It's okay to be just okay

Look, embrace mediocrity. I recognize what I'm saying is not possible for everyone in all ways, and that many folks with exploited identities have to be outstanding in order to get even a whiff of recognition that Jeff, the white guy from accounting gets for remembering to sign his emails with a "have a good day." But, as much as possible, weigh the pros and cons of working your ass off to be excellent at something. Is being remarkable at a thing actually going to get you what you need, or are you pursuing this goal in a never ending chase for validation and recognition? Because, as mentioned in the first paragraph: Being incredible at something and being recognized for your skill are two entirely different things. You can be real damn good at what you do and never get praise or money for it. Never win the award. Never have your skills noticed. That sucks. It feels wrong and callous, but it's true. Do not cultivate your skills purely for attention, financial success, or critical acclaim, because you cannot bank on that happening and you will hate your work and feel terrible about yourself if you're relying on other people's recognition. I say this as a lesson I'm learning. I've been writing for over fifteen years now. I've gotten a fellowship, but never been published. I get kudos and comments from folks (and I am deeply grateful for every comment I get and reread them) but those come at random. Every time I've attempted to write something to catch an audience, it's been a drudge to make and a flop. People can tell when your heart isn't there. I've been making comics for twelve years now. Of the two floppy covers I've had printed, I've sold maybe thirty, collectively. At cons, I've had folks flip through the entire thing and put them back up on the shelf in front of me. I've been pitching to anthologies for five years and never gotten in. I've been lucky enough that some folks have given me useful feedback on where to improve my artwork, that my faces are wonky, that my colors lack contrast. I've tried a few times to create a story that will be more marketable than the stories I like telling. I've never finished illustrating more than three pages. I've been painting for, shit, twenty years now? And posting my work online for at least fifteen. I don't have high follower counts, and my shops overall do 2-3 sales when I first launch and go silent after that. In the age of the algorithm and the hustle, these things speak nothing to my skill, but it's hard to remember that. It's easy to believe the problem is me, and I'm simply not skilled enough as a craftsman to make the cut. That doesn't mean I need to give up my trades, but it does mean I need to reassess my metrics. If I never get another comment, never make another dime off my work, would I still want to do it? I mean, I'd be sad about the lack of attention, but yes, I'd still keep making things and probably keep posting them. But once I let go of needing my work to gain a certain threshold of attention or money to be "worth it" then it doesn't matter whether I'm good at it or a grade A bumbler. It just matters whether or not I'm happy and enjoying myself. What are you willing to do to keep food on the table and a roof over your head and how good do you need to be at that thing to make it work? Everything else, how good do you want to be at that thing for your own enjoyment? Your hobbies can just be hobbies. They don't have to be hustles. You can be mediocre at your hobbies. Hell, you can be shit at them. Stop working as if you need to be outstanding at everything or else it's a failure or a waste of effort. Find the bar of "good enough" for each thing and clear it. Then let yourself be happy. The world will work you down to callouses and blisters enough on its own, don't add to pressures. You're carbon based, but you'll never be a diamond, rough or otherwise. You're human, and that's infinitely more beautiful.

#writing #my writing #rambling again #mediocrity #look be a schlub #life's fucking short and exhausting #you don't need to be amazing at everything to be worthy of love

[cinnamon-bebe]

Chemtrails (Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader)

Chemtrails (Pedro Pascal X Fem!Reader)

Summary: "If you died today, would you be happy with the life you've lived?" What happens when you've sacrificed your love for fame and fortune? Despite the glitz and glamour, the Reader is all Pedro can think about. The stars have never been on your side but can you rewrite the plans they have for you?

Warning: Angst, Fluff, Occasional Cursing

Inspired by the song Chemtrails Over the Country Club by Lana Del Rey

"I'm on the run with you, my sweet love

There's nothing wrong contemplating God

Under the chemtrails over the country club"

"Baby what's your sign?"

"You're in the wind, I'm in the water

Nobody's son, nobody's daughter

Watching the chemtrails over the country club"

Pedro's POV

The chatter of a hundred people and yet I still only hear your voice. Memories of your words, from years past.

You asked me what my sign was, I told you I was an Aries. You laughed and told me we shouldn't be friends, the stars say so. The stars say we're incompatible, we'd be at each other's throats. I'm a fire sign and you didn't need any more drama. I kissed you for the first time and told you I'd prove you wrong, you simply smiled and looked off to the chemtrails that flew over us.  

Memories from years past.

I didn't have much to offer you but I told you that you could take my word. At that time, it was worth more than anything I could have given you.

"You want me to defy the stars?" You raised an eyebrow, a smile teasing your face.

"The stars can go fuck themselves." I told you and kissed you again.

We were so young. We were nobodies. Running through the concrete jungle, with your hand in mine. Sun dress and kisses at midnight convenience stores, splitting a hot dog on a summer day because we needed money for the show at 7.

We used to contemplate the meaning of life over a bottle on our little balcony. I asked you if you were happy and you smiled but did not reply.

"If you died today, would you be happy with the life you've lived?" You asked me instead.

"No." I told you. "There's so much more I want to do. I want to be somebody."

I didn't know it then but that was the moment I started to lose you.

Memories from years past.

I find myself sitting at a restaurant now, with more money to line my pockets, pats on the back from strangers. People know my name and it comes out in whispers, as they stare over their expensive plate, getting cold just to catch a glimpse of me.

A beautiful woman sits across from me. As if a movie star isn't a big enough draw, a woman like her only invites more gazes. She looks like she'd just stepped off a screen herself. She gives me all her attention, so much so that she does not register the envious stares from the others around her.

Her lips are moving, perhaps a funny anecdote came to mind or is she telling me about her sister's wedding again that she mentioned before?  I cannot tell you, for my mind is elsewhere, with someone else.

"So would you like to come?" She smiles brightly at me, her perfect teeth sitting between her lips, painted in a dusty pink.  

"Huh?" I snap out of my daze, embarrassed that I was clearly not paying attention.

"Jule's wedding, did you...want to be my date for the day?" She blushes, hopeful.

"Oh. I...uh. I don't know Kate. I have a pretty packed schedule coming up, I don't know if I'll have time." I try to make up an excuse.

"It's too early isn't?" She bites her lip sheepishly. "I'm sorry, I know we've only been dating for a few weeks, I shouldn't have sprung this up on you so fast."

"No no, please don't be silly. I love weddings!" I try to laugh it off. "It's just that, with the new movie coming up, I need to start preparing before we go into production."

"I understand." She nods with a smile, "Comes with the territory when you're dating a big movie star I guess." She looks at me, I'm not sure if she's anticipating a response but I reciprocate with a grin and wave at the waiter for another drink.

Soon enough, she excuses herself from the table to go to the ladies room and I'm left sitting alone at our spot. I grow tiresome of the incessant chattering from the tables around me and I massage the temples of head, wishing I was at home in the comfort of my bed with just the company of my television.

I see glances from a small table to the side of me, a group of young women clearly too shy to ask for a photograph, egging each other on to make the first move over to me. Their hopes quickly dashed as I feel a firm hand on my shoulder, turning me around.

"Pedro?" A familiar voice calls my name.

"Anthony! Fancy seeing you here!" My eyes widen as I pull an old friend down for a hug.

"It's my anniversary with Charlize, we're just celebrating! God I haven't seen you for so long!" He shakes his head, slowly looking me up and down, examining my so-called transformation. I've aged so much since we last we saw each.

"How long have you been here?" I ask.

"A couple of hours, I actually saw you before but I..uh...I didn't want to interrupt your date."

Date? I swallow the word whole.

"You lucky man. She's very pretty." He comments.

"Yeah, she is."

"You could seem a bit more interested though but those are Charlize's words, not mine." He raises his hands up, letting his wife take the blame.

"I must seem like an ass, don't I?" Poor Kate, how spoilt am I to show a woman like her so little interest. "I haven't dated for so long, it's just hard getting back into the scene that's all."

Anthony let's out an inaudible "oh" and I know he's thinking the same thing, I can practically hear the name sitting on his tongue, desperately wanting to come out. 

"How is Y/N?" I break the ice, allowing the elephant in the room an escape before he suffocates along with me.

"She's good, very good actually. She's a documentary film maker now. Her work is amazing, you'd love it." Anthony couldn't help his excitement when speaking about you and I feel an intense pang of sadness and jealousy seeing his eyes light up. To see you, celebrate you. I wonder if you've aged like me or do you still look the same as how I remember. Do you still crinkle your nose every time you hear a bad joke? Do your eyes still get red and glassy when you look at the sky because you're wondering if anyone's looking down on you? I wish I knew.

"Listen, I have to go." Anthony looks back at his wife who gives me a polite wave from a distance.

"It was really good seeing you Anthony, I'm sorry we haven't spoken all these years. It's just with work..." I recycle that old excuse again.

"Don't worry about it...you made it! I know you worked really hard to get where you are now. I know you had to make a lot of sacrifices..." The last sentence, spoken so softly, it was almost drowned out. "I'm genuinely happy for you."

I nod, giving my friend one last hug before I ready for him to turn and leave, instead he hesitates and looks at me.  

"Hey Pedro?"

"Yeah?"

"She still lives in the neighbourhood." He looks down at the scarf in his hand before patting me on my arm. "Just so you know."

With that, he waves me goodbye. Walking back to his wife, who he wraps his arm around. The way she naturally rests into him and slips her hand into his coat pocket as they exit the restaurant, I wonder if I'd ever have that level of intimacy with Kate.  

__________________________________________________

I sent her home in a taxi. "I have an early morning and need to prep for some meetings", my excuse for her this time. Kate's disappointed expression, as I gave her a kiss on the cheek is the last thing on my mind.

Scuffing the cap of my leather shoes, I kick at the pavement. The world moves past me as I hide myself in the bubble of my thoughts. I have no sense of direction, my legs taking me to no intended destination, only letting the neon lights around guide me to where it desires.

Anthony's words were still ringing in my ears.

Would you want to see me?

My mind reminds me of the last time we were together.

"I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this, if I don't leave the city now, I may never get my chanc-"

"Get your chance to do what? Be a star?" You were sat deep in the corner of the sofa, far from me. Your voice calm and monotonous as you watched me pace up and down our tiny apartment. I couldn't decipher your expression, it was as if you knew what I was going to say.

"I want to make something out of my life! I want to prove to everyone and myself that I can make it Y/N. I don't want to waste my life away." I moved towards you, our presence separated by the little vintage coffee table I hated but still bought home because you loved it so much.

"Well then go, I don't want to hold you back from chasing your dreams."

"Y/N-"

"No. It's okay Pedro. I understand...I really do. I don't want to stop you from pursuing what you love." You got up from your spot, you seemed so small to me as you closed the gap between us. Your hand felt so light against my face, like you were disappearing before me. "Don't live in regret because of me."

"Y/N come wi-" I tried to hold you, hold you before you evaporated.

"No. My place is here." You took your hand away, moved back, the space between us grew more and more distant. "I don't have big dreams like you do. I like normality. I like living my life however I want it, do whatever I want, whenever I want. You asked me if I was happy...and I am."

"Would you still be happy without me?"

I stared at you. My gut sank because I already knew this was the end. You didn't have to tell me.

"I don't know..." You managed to smile, even through the gentle tears that formed in your eyes. "But I know you would be without me."

"That's not true." I tried to reach for you but you pulled away.

"We're very different people Pedro...I told you, we're incompatible. It's time we listened to the stars."

My thoughts are suddenly interrupted as I feel a hand rest softly on the small of my back.

"Hello sir, would you like to buy a rose?" An elderly woman smiles up at me. A child stands obediently nearby, holding a bouquet of individually wrapped stems, clearly past his bedtime but still helping Grandma late at night. The child looks tired, sad. Judging by the number of roses still in his hands, they must have had an unlucky day.

"How much for one?" I return her kind smile, taking out my wallet.

"$2. Thank you, thank you so much sir." The old woman sighs in relief calling the child over to bring the flowers for me to pick. Each stem had a handwritten tag with various cheesy sentiments adorned.

....A kiss in exchange for a rose...

...You're more beautiful than any flower but here's one to show you my love anyway...

....Would you be my Valentine?...

....Please forgive me, I was an idiot.

I chuckle at the last one before picking a rose at random.

I take out $100 and watch the old lady's eyes panic as she reaches in her purse to find change. Taking her hand firmly in mine, I assure her it wasn't necessary.

"I'll take one rose for the $100. You keep the rest of the flowers and have a good night okay?"

The woman looks at the child with her mouth agape and then back at me, clearly taken aback by the gesture.

"Sir, are you sure?"

"Yes, take the kid home and get some rest. This one rose itself is worth every dollar." I pat her hand which trembles in mine.

"Thank you! Thank you! Bless you and the woman who receives your rose!"

Taking the child's hand they quickly walk away, whispering to each other and disappearing into the night.

I stare at the flower in my hand and bring it closer to my face, studying the message on the tag.

...Let's defy the stars and write our own destiny.

I stand in the dark of night, illuminated only by the cafe lights ready to turn off for the day. My hand grips the stem as if it weighed a hundred tons yet afraid it would float away like a feather. The frantic honking of the traffic seems to taunt me, the laughter from the bars nearby seem to be mocking this idiot of a man standing in the middle of the streets, holding a flower he paid $100 for.

"Just do it!" I hear a young boy shout at his friend attempting a skateboard trick up the block.

Just do it. I repeat to myself. Just fucking do it.

"Taxi!"

 _________________________________________________

I remember these steps, we used to sit here with the neighbours' kids. Charlie, I think that was his name? I remember little Charlie proposing to you with a plastic ring and threatening to get his kindergarten buddies on me, simply for existing. I can't help but laugh at that memory.

Everyone was in love with you, the young, the old. They couldn't help but fall for your charms, your kindness, the way you'd smile at them even if you've never spoken a word to each other. Everyone was under your spell, including me.

You told me you loved me on these steps.

I had gotten back from a bad audition and couldn't bear to go home to you. I sat here for hours until you saw me from the balcony and came down. You didn't ask me anything. You just sat with me as we watched the kids run up and down the block, racing each other, teasing each other. I looked at you and you gave me a kiss on the nose.

"I love you."

You said it so quietly at first that I pretended I didn't I understand.

You rolled your eyes and pulled my face into yours, telling me you loved me over and over again as you smothered me with your kisses.

That was one of the happiest moments of my life.

Walking past our faded figures, I enter the building and see that nothing has changed.

The walls were the same duck egg green. The bulletin board covered in layers of flyers and advertisement, some new, with plenty dated months back. I wouldn't be surprised if the audition ads I tried out for from years ago were still there.

The smell of various cuisines mingle together to form its own unique indecipherable aroma.

A comforting aroma.

I look to the elevator, still out of order. Obviously.

We only lived on the third floor, the stairs will be fine.

I prepare myself for the incline when a voice calls out to me.

"Where are you going?"

I turn around and see our old building superintendent, decked out in his uniform. Stanley.

"Stan! It's me Pedro! Wow, you're still here!" I walk to him.

"Who?" He looks me up and down, completely confused as to who the hell I am.

"Pedro from 3B upstairs? I used to live with Y/N...maybe you don't remember me because of the moustache." I rub the bottom of my nose sheepishly.

"No...I don't remember you."

Old Stanley, perhaps age is catching up to him.

"I'm just going to see Y/N." I try to resume my journey but he stops me once more.

"No entry into the building if you're not a resident!" He points to the sign on the wall.

"Since when was that a rule?" I throw my hand in the air.

"Since today. We have too many unsavoury men try to come into the building, how do I know if you really know Miss Y/L/N? I'm not letting any potential predators or burglars into the building."

"But Stan she-"

Pointing to the sign on the wall again, he raises an angry brow. Not wishing a full body beat down by ol' Stan, I take myself back out the building like a bad dog.  

I sit on the steps, sighing in defeat. I try to convince myself that coming here is a mistake.

"Defy the stars...pfft! You've been in way too many movies Pedro." I mumble to myself, as I dig my thumb nail into the stem of the rose.

Perhaps we're only given the choice to rewrite our destiny but it doesn't mean destiny would just sit idly by and let you do whatever you want. It's probably for the best. What would I say anyway?

Running my hand through my hair, I get up to leave. The adrenaline from earlier had drained so quickly out of me, that its left me a fatigued mess. Move on Pedro, it's time to go home.

"Hey movie star." A voice calls from above. "You looking for me?"

Your hair falls past your face as you lean over the balcony and in that moment I feel my heart break into a million pieces.

There you are.

Standing before me, even more beautiful than when you left, if that is even possible.

You're wearing a simple white vest and grey shorts, one leg rubbing softly against the other. Your skin bears the warm orange glow reflected from the lights inside your apartment.

You look so raw, so delicate.

Every pulse in my body aches seeing you again.

"Wow." I breathe. "You look..."

You hide your laugh and I can see you blushing from behind your hand.

"Thanks. You look great too. I'm like the...um..." You rub under your nose with your finger.

"Thank you, I grew it out for a role but now people tell me I look like their grandma without it." I shrug, much to your amusement.

"What are you doing here?" You speak, more softly, more seriously.

How do I even respond to this question? I was out on a date with another woman but I bumped into our old friend who told me I should find you? Or should I go with I met an old woman and her kid, who I'm pretty sure were cupid's little minions, sent down to earth to give me a rose and to fuck with me?

"I was just in the neighbourhood. I wanted to see if you wanted to um...go out for a coffee?" I lie.

You look at me incredulously, clearly seeing through my bullshit.

"Everything is shut by now." You simply respond.

"Oh...well maybe we can just talk then?"

You tap the metal rails, where you lay your arms. Are you contemplating whether to come down or throw a bucket of water over me? I guess I'll have to wait and see.

Without saying a word, you disappear out of sight. The lights in your apartment switches off.

What does this mean? Are you off to bed?

Before I could ruminate any more, the doors open from behind me and you slip through.

God, you look even better up close.

My hands instinctively reach out to touch you but I withdraw quickly before you could see. You had wrapped yourself in a fleecy blanket, the threads a deep purple.

Without saying a word, you sit down on the step and I can only follow suit, my mind can no longer make decisions for itself it seems.

You smell the same, that same soft floral scent I used to love. The one I used to breathe in when I'd hold you close to me in bed because I didn't want you to leave for work.

Our knees are so close, they almost touch.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

For a minute I don't know how to respond, I just don't want to stop looking at you.

"I was...I was wondering if you were thinking about me?"

You laugh, I laugh too. Of course you weren't.

"I think about you all the time." You tell me so casually, it catches me off guard.

"You do?" I whisper in disbelief.

"It's hard not to when you're on every other billboard in the city."

Oh.

"I think about you all the time too Y/N."

You smile and look up at the sky. The night is aligned with many stars tonight and they all call for your attention but mine. I feel greedy staring at you but I'm simply making up for all the nights that I was alone without you, all those kisses I've shared with women that weren't you.

"What do you think the stars are telling us tonight?" I ask.

You grin and without looking back at me, you say "I think the stars are laughing at us."

"Do you think the stars have changed their mind about us?"

You finally turn to me, your eyes drop. "I don't think that's how it works Pedro."

"If this is the life the stars have planned for me, a life without you, then I don't want it Y/N."

"Pedro-"

"I thought if I made a name for myself, if people knew who I was, then I'd be sure of who I am...but who I'm meant to be, who I want to be...is to be with you." Your eyes meet mine, coloured with emotions you are scared to express. "I look for you everywhere I go Y/N, in every women I meet but you are always a world away."

"We don't even know each other anymore Pedro."

"You are the only one who has always known who I am, even before me Y/N. I'm still as strange and as wild as I have always been. I'm still as messy and as clumsy as I was before. I still love cheap corner store liquor and dancing terribly in public. I still look at chemtrails whenever they past me...because they remind me of you."

"Chemtrails are bad for you, they say they're chemicals."  You tell me, your voice low and expressionless.

"If I die with you as my last thought, it won't be so bad."

I finally find the courage to reach for you and you don't recoil from me, you let me gently run my finger against the hair that falls down past your face. You close your eyes and I selfishly take you, pulling you towards me.

I rest my forehead against yours and I savour this moment where I can be close to you and not let it be a memory.

"What if I've changed?" You whisper.

"Well then I'll spend the rest of my life getting to know you again."

"If I told you to run away with me tonight, would you?" You open your eyes to see me, your expression as serious as ever.

"You're my home Y/N. I'll go wherever you go. Even if it's to another galaxy, we'll drive a little red Corvette into space together and leave this all behind."

You smile and tug on the bottom of your lip. "You think the stars would still allow us to go to space?"

"Fuck the stars." I say as I take your lips.

Oh, how I've missed the sweetness of your taste; in this moment you are spoiling me rotten. You wrap your arms around me and allow the blanket to drop from your shoulders. The only stars that mattered now are those in our eyes. They're telling me the future and it's you. It's always been you.

The sirens of the city and the plane overhead may be loud but I hear nothing over the sound of your heart beat.

You pull away and we both laugh.

In this moment, we are perfect. I am no longer the famous celebrity that belonged to everyone. I am not a son and you are no one's daughter.

We only belong to each other.

I see you shiver and look towards the door.

"Let's go inside." You get up and take my hand, guiding me back to our home. The one I've longed for ever since I left.

The building is quiet, everyone asleep by this hour but old Stan at his desk. I try to shuffle past as inconspicuously as I could, my hand entwine with yours.

"Welcome back Mr Pascal." Stanley greets us as clear as day, his head not even looking up from above his phone.

"Wha- so you do remember me!"

Sly old dog.

Stanley doesn't respond and concentrates on his screen instead.

You shake your head and pull me up the steps but not before I set down my lucky rose on the desk.

"Good night Stan."

I call out before I chase my love up the stairs, both of us ready to write our next chapter together. I don't know what it will entail but I know if you're in it, it will be the greatest adventure I'll ever take.

"Kids these days." Stan sighs, closing the article on his phone and clicking on a familiar app. Putting his feet up, he relaxes with a smile on his face as the Mandalorian theme song begins to play.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin #javier pena #pedro pascal x reader #narcos #ww1984 #maxwell lord #oberyn martell #game of thrones #frankie morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal imagine #fanfiction #chemtrails #lana del rey

[addictedtostorytelling]

would you headcanon that Sara ever sought out counseling/therapy voluntarily ?

hi, anon!

in canon? probably not.

i think she completes her required peap sessions in s5 and then pretty quickly thereafter commences her romantic relationship with grissom, which kicks off an upswing in her life. not only does he become a confidante and emotional anchor for her, but she probably starts sleeping better, eating better, and living a generally more balanced lifestyle once they are together, all of which factors combined with just how over-the-moon happy she is to be with him make it so she feels better to the point where she thinks she doesn't need to pursue future therapy at all.

it isn't until her abduction by the miniature killer that her old mental health issues resurface, exacerbated by her trauma response from her ordeal in the desert.

however, while at this point it probably would be wise for her to return to therapy, she doesn't, instead trying to conceal her symptoms and deal with them on her own so as not to freak out grissom and/or sabotage their relationship.

of course, she is unsuccessful fighting this battle on her own, which is why she eventually cracks under the pressure and ends up leaving las vegas before grissom can even really get a handle on what's going on with her.

to my mind, if she ever goes to therapy of her own volition, it would probably be during the time she is away from vegas (most likely in san francisco); however, i kind of tend to think that she doesn't attend therapy even then, though she may pursue some kind of alternative mental health treatments, like visiting a nature retreat or taking up yoga or meditation.

"when in san francisco," you know?

in any case, she's only in san francisco for six months before warrick dies and she returns to vegas to be with grissom and then in vegas with grissom for four months before she takes off again to join the sea shepherd.

to me, she just doesn't read like someone who's attending therapy during this brief vegas period, as she seems to be carrying a lot of sadness, anxiety, and uncertainty with her without having much sense of how to deal with it. one would like to believe that had she been in therapy at this time, she might have had more cognitive and emotional tools in her mental toolbox for dealing with the stress in her life and specifically in her and grissom's relationship. the fact that she, once again, just kind of skips out on him when things get rough suggests that she's still left to her own devices, resorting to old patterns, cognitively and emotionally fending for herself, etc.

so from there:

considering that she immediately joins the sea shepherd expedition after leaving town, there's not really any opportunity for her to do therapy prior to the time that she and grissom finally reunite during the events of episode 09x10 "one to go."

and after that point, i don't think she feels the need to, as, once again, as was the case during s5-s7, her life takes an upswing, and she feels happier than she probably ever has once she and grissom get married.

since she's still basking in newlywed bliss when she returns to vegas in s10—seriously, look at how much that girl smiles!—i again don't believe she prioritizes therapy.

she just falls into her routines of visiting and talking with grissom, working her job, going about her life, etc.

—which is why when her marriage starts to fall apart between s12 and s13, she's left to flail.

any therapist worth their salt who listened to her talk about her fears regarding her and grissom's lack of communication would've been like, "you know there's a simple solution to this problem, right? just call your husband. or better yet, get on a plane."

there's no way they would have let her get away with that "though i don't know anything for sure (because i haven't asked), i'm just going to assume the worst and let things spiral out of control, self-sabotaging until this whole situation becomes unsalvageable" shit.

she's obviously not attending therapy during s13 when she's abusing sleeping pills and making reckless, self-destructive choices, and as for whether or not she starts going after the divorce, at any point between s13 and the events of "immortality," i'm again gonna go out on a limb and say "no;" girl just reads too much like someone who's keeping her sadness to herself, soldiering through her pain, and not talking to anyone about what's going on inside of her.

so then come the events of "immortality," and, again, as has been the pattern, i think that once sara is back with grissom (and they are remarried), her life improves, as do her self-care and health habits, and she gets happy, and she feels no need to seek out therapy.

and especially not because she wouldn't even have access to it if she wanted it, considering that they're living a nomadic lifestyle on a boat traversing international waters (at least some of the time during a global pandemic).

so the way i see things? in canon, i don't think she probably ever does go to therapy of her own volition.

now.

all of the above said, i really wish she would have gone to therapy post-s5, as i think it probably very much could have helped her and maybe even prevented a lot of the angst of the later seasons had she done so.

(i'm only kind of joking.)

in the big, giant canon rewrite au i'll never get around to, i'd write her going to therapy after her kidnapping by natalie davis, and everything being different from that point forward, not entirely because of the therapy but certainly at least in part thanks to it.

anyway.

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

#answered #anon #asks: csi #** #my meta #meta: csi #meta: sara #speculation csi #let's talk shop #csiverse

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The Thief and the Tinker, Part 4: Circles and Cycles

part 3

Part 4

Viren: *smirks and plinks Runaan's coin to Ethari*

Ethari, furious: You throw another Moonshadow at me and I'm gonna lose it.

Circles and Cycles

Angst rating: 8/10

Back to Ethari, because we're not done with him yet. Ethari is soft, but he isn't weak. He won't be a willing pawn for Viren. He loves Runaan to the point of invention, and his devotion is more constant than the moon itself. He'll agree to do what Viren says, and he'll be Very Sad. But his spirit is in no way broken. Viren bribing him with the coins containing his family will only have the opposite effect. It'll give Ethari something to fight for.

We could get Focused Chaos Ethari. We could get Angery Trickster Ethari. We could get Rules, What Rules? Ethari. Let him try to steal the coins, try to break them, try to kill Viren, and be stymied at every turn, until he settles and seems cowed. And then all he does is craft his way out of the problem.

What if we are gifted with Iron Man Elf Ethari, who pretends to build a fake Key for Viren, but meanwhile he's really building a coinbuster with whatever he can get his hands on - primal stones, magically imbued gemstones, stolen artifacts, his own arcanum, his own reputation as the Master Craftsman of the Silvergrove. He'll use almost - almost - anything, to stop Viren and free his family.

Ethari may have to choose between those two things, though. And he's a hero, deep down, just like his family, just like his daughter. If he has to choose, he'll choose to stop Viren and save Xadia. He'll pay the same price as his family has if he must.

He'd let Viren think he was motivated purely by wanting his family back, but Ethari is far too steeped in the illusion and sacrifice for that to be all there is to his motives. It's a so-close-and-yet-so-far thing, how he and Viren almost embody the same ideals. Almost. Ethari would take one look at Viren, who just burnt down his whole Forest, he'd see the biggest threat in Xadia, and he'd say anything to get a chance to stop this juggernaut of destruction from getting his hands on whatever that ultimate power really is, locked behind that missing key. If he has to abandon his people and bawl his eyes out to convince Viren he's in, then he will.

And Viren wouldn't make it easy for him. He knows clever when he sees it. He went through all this trouble to persuade Ethari to work with him. He would need to keep Ethari as off-balance as possible to ensure that he keeps working as he should.

Angsty jewelry, anyone?

Viren giving Ethari his husband in pendant form to remind him what he's working for, when Viren and Ethari both know full well that only dark magic can open the hellcoins. Ethari wearing another pendant of his love, except it's not a metaphor this time. It's literally his love, in a coin around his neck.

Viren would love making Ethari stay close to him of his own free will if he ever hoped to free Runaan. Making people bind themselves to you is a big power flex. Remember that TDP stream future-season teaser note about Bait being in a creepy restraint in a future season?

This card is written on in all-caps, so that really could be "Bait" or "bait," or--knowing this show--both. Viren's been using Runaan as bait for Ethari all along. Putting his coin in a dark magic pendant casing for Ethari to wear would be a great parallel for that. Oh god. Oh man.

Maybe he'll stab the coin's scary casing right through that circle on Ethari's chest, right over his heart, make that Iron Man reference really obvious. Ethari also losing his shirt at some point, for angsty Viren-related reasons? It's more likely than you think. I mean... Ethari is literally involved in both forms of forging at this point. Shirt's gotta come off for uhhhh work reasons. And because he's hot. Because of all the forging. Mmhmm. I mean how else are we finally going to discover what his markings look like this is research I swear

I mentioned that I liked god-tier villains, right? Yeah, this is amazing. I haven't wanted to die and ascend over an idea for quite a while, but Ethari vs Viren in a drawn-out battle of wills would kill me in the best way. Especially since, while it looks like they're essentially fighting for who gets Runaan, they're truly fighting a much larger battle with much higher stakes. They're fighting for the future itself. It's an epic struggle between the Narrative of Strength and the Narrative of Love. And we've seen what happens, over and over, when the Narrative of Strength gets to call the shots.

On a meta note: If Ruthari's story arc isn't a love letter from one trauma survivor to another, and on a broader scope to all survivors who see it, I don't know what is. Sometimes life just chews us up and spits us out and we can't stop it and it breaks us. But sometimes we can reach out and grasp the chance to help each other, even after that, even when it hurts a lot, because we know what it means to be loved, and to love, and to want a safer future for each other and for people we'll never meet. The future is worth standing together for, helping each other back up for, fighting side by side for, even if you can't see how it'll end, or even how to begin. We are stronger together, and sometimes we need to fight for our "together" before we can fight for anything else. And that's worth it, every time.

This is glorious, it's beautiful, it's tragic, it's amazing, it makes me want to dance, it makes me want to scream into the void, it makes me want to slap someone with a semi truck. No, someone specific, don't worry, and he super deserves it.

Because Ethari is going to win. He was always going to win. He's soft, and he's clever, and he hasn't forgotten what love means. It's what he's fighting for. Not power, not control. Love. He doesn't want to dictate Runaan's future or anyone else's. He just wants his husband--and everyone else--to have one at all.

So he's going to win.

What thwarting Viren looks like, I couldn't possibly guess. TDP is no stranger to angst, so there will probably be a high cost involved in outwitting the dark mage. Maybe not everyone can be rescued from the coins. Maybe Ethari will lose his life, or his soul, or his vision, or something else really angsty. Viren could even kill him and resurrect him as a smoky craftsman, or a zombie craftsman, or something equally biddable but horrible. The only thing I'm sure of is that Ethari would never willingly make a working Key of Aaravos Ethari as long as there's a chance Viren could possess it. But I do believe that if he gets the right opportunity while he's busy saving the world from Viren's dark intentions, he'll break his husband's hellcoin open somehow and set him free, even if he has to smile at the devil to do it.

Ethari understands the difference between "you can" and "therefore you should." He might sacrifice his own world to save his husband, but he'd never sacrifice someone else's world. That's one of the Moonshadow cultural limits I've noticed: they accept boundaries when it comes to other people's autonomous rights, especially regarding life and death.

These limits could get pushed. Ethari will be under great duress and emotional strain if he goes through this kind of interaction with Viren. And maybe he will choose some dark things. Everyone else has. But I'm placing all my eggs in the basket labeled "Saved By Love." Either I'm right, or I'll get the best angst omelets in the universe. And I do love omelets. A villain invented them, you know. ;)

Another support for Ethari not making the key for Viren: the real Key exists!

Callum has it right now. The plot doesn't need Ethari's key (yet? ever?), but it does need Ethari to learn what he's made of, to stand up for something, or against something, or both at once. And once he learns what he will and won't do and the universe has rewarded his discovery with the return of his beloved husband then Ethari will be ready to take on whatever else the plot has in mind for him.

Depending on the plan, all of these events could happen in S4, as a setup for even bigger things to follow. Viren's wishes can be thwarted here and the show's overall tension will only continue to rise. It would let Ethari flex yes pls his skills so we know who he is, it would show how driven Viren can be for a long-term goal, it would let Claudia saunter further downwards, it would reveal some human/Moonshadow history, and it would resolve the seasons-long tension regarding Runaan's fate, allowing for the cycle of speculation, feels, angst, and Ruthari fanart to begin again. ;) Viren would need to find another way to pursue his long-term goal. And Callum's Key will get a little more clarity on just how important it is to the fate of the world - which will make everything he does, and everyone he talks to, and anyone who knows what he's carrying, intensely important.

Nyx is gonna steal it isn't she, omg chaos birb

To Viren, Ethari was a main course, meant to be devoured and consumed in his lifelong quest for something that will finally satisfy. But to Ethari, Viren was just empty calories to be passed over in favor of ordering his perennial favorite dish, one more time.

Once Ethari escapes Viren's clutches with as much of his family as he can rescue, Viren may turn back to looking for the real Key, especially if someone's seen it recently. Hunting a kid probably seems easier than hunting a full-grown Moonshadow craftsman who just outsmarted him. okay so maybe Nyx stealing it would be a good thing and save Callum's life

Ethari could go on to help repair the Sunforge, or rebuild the Moonhenge, or work on constructing Moonshadow villages in Katolis if he hasn't been ghosted for abandoning everyone after the forest fire. He might build magical devices for any number of reasons, to help all kinds of characters. Hopefully, wherever he goes, he'll have Runaan with him, in some way, for at least a little while. Cycles be like, and I feel like Runaan will not want to remain still for long, for whatever reason. Does he need revenge, atonement, justice, a new body, to find Rayla, to find Ezran? He'll be back in action as soon as he can, I think.

Okay, but, I'm so soft at the thought of a scene where Runaan and Ethari come before King Ezran. The husbands tried to save their people Runaan's way, the old way, and it only continued to endanger them. Following the cycle, as Moonshadows do, was the wrong move. But the son of the last human Runaan killed reached out with mercy and broke a thousand years of suffering and sorrow and hatred. Ezran did what Runaan couldn't: he saved the Moonshadow elves from total destruction. And that, more than anything else in the world, could soften one very broody assassin's heart toward humans again.

What would Runaan do, if his heart truly changed toward humans? What would he say to Ezran? I could see him struggling for a long moment before dropping to one knee to pledge his heart as he once had to do before the Dragon Throne. He doesn't know any other way but to serve. Ezran, reading the whole room and everyone's feelings before he tells Runaan that No, we don't do that here. That he's free, and free means free. No chains, no oaths. Just trust and friendship. He should get to make his own decisions for a change, even though that can be hard and scary sometimes. Runaan being genuinely scared, because that's too much freedom. But he's not alone. He has Ethari, and Ezran, and Rayla, and Callum, and their people, and their allies. And no matter what else happens, the people of Katolis - elven and human - will find a way forward. Together.

part 5

#tdp #tdp theory #tdp speculation #tdp parallels #tdp angst #heavy angst #viren #ethari #runaan #moonshadow elves #hopepunk #ezran #runaan's super getting a tart of jelly tm

[fursasaida]

Do you have any advice for someone who loves learning and reading about all kinds of stuff but isn't academically trained to understand lots of things? Tbh, I'm curious about everything but I feel stupid when I read things I don't understand right away. It's like I lack critical thinking which makes me endlessly sad because that's something I'd like to develop but idk how. It feels like I passively absorb info, and even the things I understand, I tend to forget or don't know how to articulate :(

I think it would help if I had a concrete example or some more details about what exactly you’re struggling with, but I can offer some general thoughts. (I’m procrastinating on some research by answering this, so it got long. If anything needs clarifying, feel free to come back and let me know.)

“I feel stupid when I read things I don’t understand right away.”

I think it’s very important to understand that being smart or being stupid are phrases so broad they barely mean anything. Understanding a text right away means you have certain skills and knowledge that enable you to do that. It says nothing about your potential to develop those skills and that knowledge base.  I am very good at understanding texts, which means people say that I am “smart” because that skill is valued in a particular way. If you asked me to plow a field I would suddenly be “too stupid” to do it, because I do not have the skills and knowledge. But I could learn them!

And for that matter, even if you never become someone who “gets” texts right away, so what? A lot of people could stand to slow down, if you ask me.

This brings me directly to:

“It’s like I lack critical thinking”

That feeling of running into a wall is actually one of the best tools you could have for thinking critically. Many, many, many people who easily understand academic/analytical writing fail to question what they read, precisely because they can just sort of gulp it down. If you are getting snagged on what someone is saying, it’s not because you are incapable of grasping the Expert Truth they are conveying; it’s because on some level you disagree, or don’t share the worldview that underlies their thinking. (Or also, and this option is not always given enough credence, because they’re a bad writer. [Coughs in Donna Haraway’s direction])

This is true even, or especially, if what’s snagging you is that you don’t understand what they’re saying. This is because in their writing they have assumed their readers share a lot of contextual knowledge and assumptions. That’s not bad in itself; if everybody stopped to fully explain every single term, connection, and assertion in everything they wrote, shit would be impossible. But I want to emphasize that if you happen to fall outside the bounds of those assumptions, it not only does not mean you are stupid, it means you are especially well equipped to question and criticize them--so long as you do the work to understand them, in good faith.

(I add that last corollary because there is a problem where people don’t bother to understand where things are coming from before attacking them, and that’s not useful to anyone. But clearly you are not one of these people. I’d like to encourage you to consider these “I don’t get it” moments not as reasons to give up but as a genuinely good starting point for developing the critical skills you so badly want to have.)

An author makes a statement. The statement doesn’t make sense to you. Why not? Are there words you don’t know? Look them up. Look up their etymology, or examples of their being used in sentences, if you need more than the definition is giving you. Is it the content of the statement itself? Then clearly the author and you are coming at whatever the subject is with different background information and assumptions. (This is still true if it’s a subject you know nothing about! That’s a prime example of coming at it with different assumptions. The author assumes a lot of things about the world that you don’t, because you haven’t learned them.) The important question is not What’s wrong with me that I don’t share this author’s assumptions? Rather, the question is Can I figure out what is behind this author’s statement? And once you arrive at some idea about the answer to that, the task is not necessarily to bring yourself into agreement with it, but to decide whether you think it makes sense or not.

This is where an example would be helpful, because “figure out what the underlying assumptions are” is very vague and I’m sure you’re sitting here like, “Oh, sure, just like that.” So, to start with: The things that pull you up short are the things you should ask questions about. What is it in my understanding of the world that makes this statement not make sense? (One way to look at this is: is there a different but related statement that does make sense to me? What’s different between the two, and why does it make such a difference to me?) What would I have to believe, or assume, for the statement to make sense to me? Why did this person mention this example and not those, and can I interpret this choice as something that makes sense to me? Or as a clue that reveals something about where this text is coming from?

And to be clear, when I say “underlying assumptions,” I don’t mean that this only/always means sussing out bias or prejudice in the usual way those words are used. I also mean the things that author learned in their field before writing the text, which you have not. Like, a lot of what I write now depends on the assumption that there is a difference between “absolute space” and “place.” You might have to read up on that a bit to know what I’m saying at a given moment because you aren’t specialized in what I’m specialized in. You might then decide you think this distinction is bollocks! Reading up on it isn’t necessarily just to get you to agree with me. It’s to get you to where you can make an informed decision about agreeing or not.

Often the biggest assumptions lie in the simplest statements. I’m reading about the Cold War a lot right now. If someone says, for example, “The Cold War was the dominant structure of international politics between 1945 and 1989,” this seems very obvious and straightforward. It’s a basic statement of what most people mean when they refer to “the Cold War” at all. It’s “a historical fact,” a piece of information for those interested in history to “absorb.” But there are a lot of questions worth asking about this! Are we sure there was only one, singular (“the”) Cold War? Was it really “the dominant structure” for everyone, everywhere, that whole time? What is a “structure” and what makes one “dominant”? Are we completely sure about those start and end dates, and do they apply everywhere?

Now one can imagine that if I were to ask all these questions of someone who referred to the Cold War this way in a dinner conversation or something, I might appear very ignorant--or “stupid.” But being critical means not accepting things at face value. I may know perfectly well exactly what this person is referring to, but if I want to question the assumptions built into that reference, I have to ask about things that are “obvious” or “well known.”

The good news is that when you’re reading a text, you don’t have to worry about other people at the table judging you. It sounds like right now you are doing that to yourself, and I would very much like to encourage you not to. Having “dumb” questions is being critical. The only difference between “I don’t understand this sentence about the Cold War” and “I have a critique of this sentence about the Cold War” is that in the first case, I have questions about the sentence; in the second case, I have developed answers to my own questions about the sentence. But both of them involve looking at the sentence and saying “this doesn’t add up to me.”

Criticism is a process. Developing expertise does mean getting to a point that you don’t need to do extensive research every time you read or criticize something, but there will always be new things you don’t understand and have to put in the work to be able to critique. The vast majority of ~inspiration~ among academics, if you read/listen to them talking about their research projects, comes out of bumping up against something they don’t understand and just not being satisfied until they could account for it. That could be anything from the way the word “democracy” was used in the Iran-Contra hearings to the everyday social fact that women are routinely expected to have longer hair than men in much of the United States.

So. You are actually in a great place to get better at this, because everybody who is seriously and honestly trying to be critical has to start from making the obvious not-obvious--from not understanding something.

That brings me to the last thing I want to address:

“It feels like I passively absorb info, and even the things I understand, I tend to forget or don't know how to articulate.”

Criticism, or just--learning--isn’t just a process; as what I was saying about academics above already suggests, it’s a project. This is not only true of academics. Plenty of people who aren’t academics do research or study things on their own just because they’re interested. But the kernel of that interest is a desire to understand something, whether it’s for a practical purpose or not. Maybe you’re teaching yourself to sew and having a lot of trouble with a particular stitch, and you want to figure out if that stitch is standard because it’s actually the most functional or if there’s some other reason, which would mean you could use something different. Or maybe you just really want to know what’s up with sea turtles. Either way, there is something you want.

I think if you identify specific questions about or interests in the world and pursue those, you will have an easier time building these skills and retaining information. (This doesn’t mean you have to give up your general curiosity! Just that at any given time, you are focusing on a few specific things.) Information sticks with us because it’s useful somehow. If your goal isn’t just “know things” but “figure out this thing, specifically” then information about that thing has an actual use for you. So think about something that you’ve had a lot of trouble understanding and that you want to understand--not because you feel like you’re supposed to, or because you feel ashamed that you don’t, but because you want answers to your questions. Your project is now satisfying that curiosity.

I find the more I think about a question I have, the more I start to see information that’s applicable to it popping out of the world all around me, everywhere, even when I’m not actively “working on it.” And I remember those things because they are not just “information.” They are of significance to something I am trying to do, which is answer the question. And that question is not assigned to me by anyone else, not even the author of a text I don’t understand. I can only assign it to myself (I have to want to understand that text!).

And you can support this with the way you read! Reading is interactive (yes, even when it’s just you and a page and you’re not making any noise). The more you approach it that way, the more you will retain of what you read--even if you end up disagreeing with it--because you are not trying to be a container for information to fill, which is absolutely bound to leak. Instead you are looking for things that are useful to you, which may or may not be findable in the text you are currently reading. You are not a receiver. You are a spelunker.

So what does it mean to read interactively? It can mean almost anything. For people like me, it often means a lot of making notes, annotations, and so on (the physical act of annotating a text does a lot to help me retain things, for example). I have files upon files of notes and quotes and outlines from different research projects. I write out paragraphs of musings to try to articulate how my questions are shifting as I learn, or what exactly the thing I’m struggling with is. (You mentioned struggling to articulate; writing things out for yourself is one way to practice at this. So is bouncing things off a friend, which I also do a lot.) But it doesn’t have to look like this.

If you are pursuing an interest, then ultimately what you’re doing ought to be pleasurable. (I don’t mean that it should make you jump for joy every second, but the feeling of making progress toward a goal, even if a particular step is unpleasant, is still pleasurable.) If “taking notes” for you looks like drawing, then great. I once outlined a paper by drawing it as a floor plan for a two-story house. I make research playlists that I consider to be functionally identical to syllabi. I have tagged collections on this tumblr that represent some of my thinking through one set of questions or another. What I’m trying to get at is that in working to answer your own questions, you are not just abstractly trying to “understand” something, which miraculously happens or doesn’t depending on whether your mind is ~good enough~ to receive the Content. You are interacting with statements, pieces of information, images, texts, etc., which you are collecting and arranging and rearranging in order to try to reach a place where you’re satisfied. All of that is part of the process of “understanding,” and if you’re genuinely interested in that process, then the work involved shouldn’t feel like homework. So the literal things you do as part of it don’t have to be similar to schoolwork, if those kinds of things are boring or painful or just unhelpful to you. Do whatever! You’re in charge!

So, to summarize all of this: I think the first thing you need to do is think of yourself not as ignorant, stupid, or uneducated, but as someone who is actively wanting and trying to engage and learn about the world. This is admirable! This is exciting! Thus your goal is not to “absorb” information to make up some deficit, or to become some other, “smarter” person who would understand things the first time you look at them. Your goal is simply to answer your own questions about the world. From that point of view, not-understanding is not a problem. It’s necessary. It’s where the questions come from. If you have to answer a lot of sub-questions along the way--if it takes you weeks to really get what a single essay is saying--this does not say anything bad about you. It just means you’re doing the damn thing. But in order to succeed at it, you do need to have some motivation; it needs to mean something to you. (One of the biggest tricks the devil ever pulled was the idea that inquiry could ever possibly be impersonal.) And whatever that personal meaning is is good enough, I promise.

#how 2 b alive #i guess #anonymous

[creek-cryptid-deluxe]

Alright Humans and Humanoids, it's time for another rant. Today's topic: a suddenly judgmental 'friend'

Ok, so, there is a woman who I've been friends with for about 5 yrs who we will call... L. She was around when my health started the initial Big Spiral that caused me to have to go on disability. She took me to the e.r. & to procedures. She was helpful & supportive. She helped me come to terms with needing mobility devices & encouraged me to go into pain management, knowing full well that I was at the point where I had tried everything short of the dreaded opioid medication. She knew I was scared of the judgement that can come with it. This last year or so though she has become less supportive, more self centered. Example: she had a baby a year ago. When she went back to work, it was one day a week & really only needed 2 hrs of childcare that day before her husband (who is amazingly sweet & still super supportive) got off work. So I volunteered. 2 hrs once a week was doable. Then she started her practicum hours for school. Suddenly she needed 5 hrs for 2 days and the 2 hrs the other day. She knew that me feeling as useless as I do, I would say yes, even though it was far too much. After 2 months, her husband made her find daycare because when he picked up the kiddo every day, he could see how badly it was killing me. After that, she stopped talking to me unless she needed someone to bitch about her life to. Fine. We all go through periods like that. It will get better, I thought (stupidly). Since then, I've only seen her when her husband invites me over for game night. Ok. Fine.

Which brings us to today. I went over for the baby's first birthday. I pretty much just hang with her husband & his friend because they are chill and because there were WAY WAY more people there than I was lead to believe there would be, so there's a ton of noise. I'm chatting with those guys about something I discovered regarding my medication (which I've been on, at the same dose, for nearly 2 yrs) that makes it work better in emergency situations (like if the pain is super overwhelming, can't move kind of bad). I purposely was not going to tell her, but she walked outside at just the wrong time. She immediately becomes super condescending & judgmental in tone, lecturing me about opioid addiction & basically treating me like a junkie. Here are some relevant facts about this little talk:

#1. I have been on this dose for nearly 2 yrs. I never take more than I'm prescribed, often less, actually, so that I am able to address emergency situations.

#2. In emergency situations, this is my last resort. I take OTC meds, use heat or ice, stretch, ect FIRST.

#3. My pain tolerance is NUTS. If I'm not tearing up when I move/put weight on that body part, it's fine and I just need heat/ice and rest.

#4. This woman is an ex heroin addict who up until she learned she was pregnant was doing molly on the regular and getting falling down drunk a minimum of twice a week.

#5. Remember me mentioning her practicum hours? Yeah, she is getting her masters and licensing to become an addiction counselor.

#6. She know goddamn well that even being prescribed these meds was a last resort for me, so anything other than my scaled down maintenance dose is absolutely a last resort.

SO WHAT THE FUCK. She made me feel small, ashamed, and absolutely like shit about doing what I need to fucking do to survive. Yes, I am in constant excruciating pain, but the emergency pain we are talking about? That shit makes me want to kill myself just so it will stop.

My dad (whom I live with) sees how bad it gets. I can see it physically hurt him to be helpless to do anything about it. In those moments, he looks so small and old. I told him what I was doing and his response was "Are you still able to measure the dose accurately?" When I confirmed that I can, he said "Does it work?" Again, confirmed. "DUDE THAT'S AWESOME! That's like a total game changer for you!" (Now you know where I get part of my speech patterns from since I type the way I speak.) Like, if my dad (and my other 4 friends, who basically reacted the same way) are just overjoyed I found a way to manage the pain better, then she should be, too.

But she isn't. I don't know that I can maintain that friendship anymore. She is literally NEVER happy for me or encouraging about anything. Example: I finally found a decor scheme that I want to pursue for my spaces. (I'll post about that next because I'm PUMPED AS HELL.) I sent her pictures I'm using for inspiration with a lot of words conveying my extreme excitement and she responded with "I dunno. That's really eclectic & a lot of colors. It looks, like, cluttered and nothing matches. Don't do too much of it. I'm sure you'll change your mind soon." I was like:

but instead of 'meep' I definitely said bitch. I can't imagine being that consistently negative about EVERYTHING that isn't what you like/want/believe. That must take so much energy. I really don't need that kind of person in my realm right now. I've got dragons to befriend or vanquish (those dragons will be my friends or they will be cut down) and stuff to paint.

Really sad thing is today she was lamenting that she only has 3 'real friends' left since having the baby. I don't understand how she can lack that much self awareness. I'll still be nice when she reaches out, because I'm friends with her husband, but I'm not pouring more energy into that relationship. It isn't worth it & is incredibly one sided. Just because I put a lot of time into it doesn't mean I should continue to do so. Not at such a steep price.

*DISCLAIMER FOR ANYONE CONCERNED:

just so we are clear on this, I'm not doing anything dumb like shooting up my meds. Just fyi. I'm not entirely comfortable (after today's experience) with disclosing what I'm doing. To be frank, I don't tell many people what I'm even on in the first place. It's nobody's biz. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#ehlers danlos syndrome #chronic illness #chronic pain #people suck sometimes #maybe they are defective