#wip: chalk mountain

[unmellowyellowfellow]

Chalk Mountain

+ a WiP introduction

(status: third draft)

genre(s): fantasy, action, au

tone(s): regional gothic, found family, prophesies, platonic love, lgbt+ protag, "magic" abilities

warning(s): blood, harsh family relations, death, cursing -- (will be editing to add more as i come across them)

tag: #wip: chalk mountain

"stay away from the bluebonnets," dixie's mother always said. "they know your secrets and will trick you with good smelling petals and a comfortable place to rest after a picnic; but eventually you will never get up, eventually you will be blue, floral, swaying in the hot wind, watching as people pass by until another sleepy bystander succumbs to take their last nap as the person they were. before they take them. before they take you."

(will be adding links to characters and more characters and some other stuff when they are ready; this will be reblogged when updated with anything. authors notes at the end!)

characters and descriptions! (to be edited)

Dixie Alvarez is the protagonist of this story. A heroine against her will, Dixie has a smart mouth and a bad habit of holding grudges; she never fit in anywhere and always managed to piss somebody off no matter where she was. A difficult relationship with her father and her mothers abandonment drives her to flee her home in search of a new, quiet, and peaceful life with people like her. Outcasts. So, she set off in her trashy green minivan to a town her mother used to tell her about in stories. Chalk Mountain. Curly, mid-length red hair, downturned brown eyes, freckles, (mostly) untamed eyebrows, 5'7". Evolved (unknown)

Emilio Baku is the side character, Dixie's best friend, and partner in crime. Ripped away from his home in Korea, Emilio developed a big heart that was always open to others after his adoptive parents took him in like it was nothing; he has now been in Chalk Mountain since he was 5 years old. Lovable teddy bear meets ruthless suppressed anger makes a man willing to do anything to protect what he loves. Short black hair that's always a little messy, deep dark brown eyes, faded burn scars cover his hands. 6'2". Evolved

Franklin and Maude are Emilio's adoptive parents and Dixie's guardians. Maude has been in Chalk Mountain since she was born. Her mother was a jailer before the town went bankrupt after a false meteorite claim that drained their tourism. Franklin came later, after he was found out as an Evolved and began to be hunted down. He took refuge in Chalk mountain 27 years ago and soon after met Maude. Maude: long, straight, gray hair, white eyes, smile lines, eye wrinkles, 7'6". Franklin: long gray hair, tall and slender figure, milky white eyes. 7'6". Both Evolved.

extra characters + descriptions (to be expanded)

The Oracle -> eons old but presents as around 30s/40s. vitiligo, blind with white irises, waist length wavy hair as black as the night sky, various markings and tattoos and scars. can only speak in prophet but can communicate in your dreams.

Marigold Alvarez -> Dixie's mother, very, very, VERY powerful woman. A force to be reckoned with, legends about her, and large popularity around Chalk Mountain. Marigold has been missing for over 11 years now, but Dixie hasn't seen her since before she herself was 12 years old. Short red bob, green eyes, freckles, permanent smirk on her face with smile lines. 5'9". Last known location: Chalk Mountain.

Walter Alvarez -> Dixie's father, loud, overbearing. One night after a screaming fight that Dixie overheard, her mother left in a tizzy. She watched her mom speed off in the car from her bedroom window, never to be seen or heard of again. Walter makes a point to never speak of Marigold and has tried painting her to be the villain ever since. Salt and pepper, short, gelled, curly hair, 5'8". Husky figure, brown eyes, grungy teeth.

authors note >

so excited to finally get this ball rolling and start sharing it with you as i figure my way through this story. i will eventually be sharing drafts as i get them written and will do snippets, short stories, moodboards, etc. based on this wip! i will announce when tag list is open (not enough content for me to want to make one yet) but for now enjoy this little info dump on my world i'm building:) also this story will be written with "proper" capital letters, i just enjoy making content lowercase! open to asks and tag games about this wip!!

this will be giving very much "mutants from x-men", very "don't trust anything beautiful". also there's dragons.

[rieile]

Annwn

2024

WIP on YT

This is probably the first time I took a commission because I couldn’t resist painting this romantic sow on top of a mountain as a birthday gift for the lady who took the original shot. It instantly reminded me of an episode from the Mabinogion where pigs are wonderful beasts from the other world.

So they went unto Math the son of Mathonwy. “Lord,” said Gwydion, “I have heard that there have come to the South some beasts, such as were never known in this island before.” “What are they called?” he asked. “Pigs, lord.” “And what kind of animals are they?” “They are small animals, and their flesh is better than the flesh of oxen.” “They are small, then?” “And they change their names. Swine are they now called.” “Who owneth them?” “Pryderi the son of Pwyll; they were sent him from Annwvyn, by Arawn the king of Annwvyn, and still they keep that name, half hog, half pig.” “Verily,” asked he, “and by what means may they be obtained from him?” “I will go, lord, as one of twelve, in the guise of bards, to seek the swine.” “But it may be that he will refuse you,” said he. “My journey will not be evil, lord,” said he; “I will not come back without the swine.” “Gladly,” said he, “go thou forward.”

The Mabinogion, translated by Lady Charlotte Guest

Chalk pastel, 30x40 cm.

[zmwrites]

OC Kiss Week Day 1: Almost

WIP: Poppet WIP

Pairing: Dutch x Aleksander

CWs: vague mentions of injuries

Words: 835

Notes: Questionably canon, would take place before the story starts

Dutch leaned back on the table, propping herself up on her elbows. Aleksander brought the candle closer to her wound—one of the cultists had managed to slice the side of her abdomen before she’d gutted them. His brows knitted together.

“Don’t make that face. It’s not that deep,” she said.

“Last time you said that, you passed out from blood loss, fell off your horse, and spent the better part of two weeks unconscious fighting off an infection.” The corners of his mouth curved downwards but he didn’t look up from his assessment. “Forgive me for not taking your word on the severity of your injuries anymore.”

She rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. It would’ve been futile; he seemed to be studying the basics of healing whenever they were apart, and she was his favourite pincushion to practice on. The why of his new hobby remained a mystery—his parents employed the best healers in the kingdom and he could easily afford to pay whatever a small town healer would charge—but she chalked it up to the eccentricities of the rich and royal.

“Any foreign princesses visiting when you go back?” Dutch asked, looking at the ceiling so he couldn’t see her winces of discomfort as he cleaned the wound. 

“One of Eletha’s cousins is coming to stay for a month,” he replied. Eletha was married to his eldest brother, and had a large family containing many single young women. “I’ve been forbidden from leaving Noxshire while she’s here.”

She almost felt bad for him. With his next-elder brother recently engaged, the family’s attention had turned to finding him a match. “The city or the duchy?”

Aleksander paused, then slowly grinned. “It wasn’t specified.”

“There’s a nest of giant spiders near the duchy’s border that’ve been thinning the herds of local farmers. Far enough from the city to warrant staying overnight. The pay’s shit for the level of danger, but that doesn’t usually deter you.”

“And we’d have to do reconnaissance, talk to the affected farmers. It could be a multi-week project,” he said. He helped her sit up and grabbed a roll of bandages.

She snorted. “Just assuming I’ll go with you?”

“Of course. Keeping me alive and unmarried is in your best interest.” His hands brushed her ribs, burning hot against the cool night air.

Her toes curled in her boots to keep a shiver from running up her spine, and the stutter in her breathing was barely noticeable. The bastard had done that on purpose. “And why’s that?”

“I can’t pay you to go adventuring with me if I’m dead or stuck managing an estate somewhere,” he said. “Besides, I pay much better than any of those merchants you escort through the northern mountains.”

She hummed her agreement, not trusting herself to speak as he tied the bandage over her sternum. His lavender eyes were focused on his task, but his damn fingers kept grazing the skin just below the raised hem of her shirt.

“And I’m much better company.” He raised his gaze and she realized how dangerously close his face was to hers. He stood with his hips slotted between her legs, and his hands dropped to the table on either side of her.

Dutch slowly lowered her shirt. It was her turn to be strong, to keep them from crossing the line they’d carefully drawn between themselves. Their relationship had to remain professional if it was going to work. It didn’t matter how blurry the line got as they travelled together, or how desperately they wanted to cross it after almost dying again; mixing professional and personal in her line of work never ended well.

“Aleksander.” Her voice was soft, gentle in a way she couldn’t afford to be.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to hers, their exhales mingling in the limited space between them. She swallowed hard. One hand drifted up to fist the material of his shirt. For a moment—just one moment—she pretended that it was possible. That they could build a life, that they could be happy together, away from the expectations of his bloodline and her stained past.

But they couldn’t. He couldn’t leave his family and she couldn’t pretend she was anything but what she was.

“Aleksander,” she repeated as he cupped her face. “A bandit-turned-sellsword is not the company you should be keeping.”

“Sword-for-hire,” he corrected. “There are semantic differences.”

She exhaled a laugh. “Not enough of a difference to make me someone who belongs in your world.”

“I know. I know. I just—I wish—” His other hand rose to her face so both of his palms cradled her jaw.

“I know.” She rested her hands on his wrists.

He remained still for another five heartbeats before exhaling heavily and shaking his head. He stepped back and busied himself with packing up his medical supplies. “We should leave now if we’re going to make it to Vir Ezzadh before midnight.”

“Yeah,” she agreed half-heartedly, already missing the warmth of his hands.

[cynicalmusings]

I would love to know the idea behind you're wip title "LM A harpy"

it stands for ‘little mermaid albedo harpy’, and it’s one of the many ancient fairytale event requests which i never wrote. i put it on the wip list because i do type at it here and there, so it might (might) be posted one day. here’s an extract from the opening:

Once upon a time… There lived a prince in a palace. The prince was renowned for his intelligence and beauty, and many people from all around the kingdom asked for his hand in marriage. However, the prince turned down every request, for he did not return the love that his suitors had for him. This was not because he was cruel, but instead because the prince had a secret: he had no capacity for love, because his heart was made of chalk, and chalk does not beat or love like a real heart does. Nobody knew this besides the prince himself; not even the palace guards knew. The royal palace stood at the base of a mountain. It was the largest mountain in the entire kingdom, snow-capped and lined with forests of evergreen and pine. The mountain was so tall that nobody could ever see its peak, because it was always swallowed up by a blanket of wind and clouds that swirled around where its summit would be. At the top of this mountain, unknown to the prince or his peoples, lived a clan of bird-people. They all had human faces with yellow eyes, but their legs ended in scales and sharp, hooked talons. Feathery wings sprouted from their shoulders, brown and black and speckled with white, and they had voices like a crow’s. They rode like kites on the frostbitten gales surrounding the mountaintop and hunted animals in the snow, and shrieked calls of joy that echoed down the valleys and slopes to the palace below, where they were often mistaken for a bird of prey. In some stories, these people were known as harpies. 

[unmellowyellowfellow]

dixie sleeps on a hand carved oak bed frame with a raggedy mattress and orange bedspread with blue pillow cases

emilio sleeps on a futon that has a metal frame that's broken in the middle so his mattress has a dip

What does your character's bed look like?

[3llisarts]

Wip Tuesday (bc I honestly couldn’t wait)

The ghost cat. The mountain lion. Just two of the many names used to describe the same creature. The Widow. The boogeyman. Just two of the many names used to describe the same killer. Rhys Thompson.

The mountain lion crept through the woods with her head low and her ears perked. Her muzzle was coated with blood, illuminated by the moon’s glow. She stopped and raised her head, listening for any sign that she wasn’t alone. Fortunately for her, she was. Then again it wasn’t surprising, shifters were not entirely known to the world. And that was Rhys Thompson’s very cover, even if she hated shifting in the first place. Nothing against the cat, but she preferred to work in human form.

Though being a shifter came with its perks. The human authorities dismissed her kills as a regular mountain lion attack, and she’d been banking heavily on that continuing. As far as she knew, the Rochester Police Department officers were all human.

Rhys peered over her shoulder in the direction she’d came. She’d killed her recent target, a man with former military ties, having jumped him as soon as he stepped outside for a quick smoke break. Though Rhys took off before his wife had a chance to come outside and investigate the scene. Rhys yawned softly and licked her lips, now looking ahead. She knew it was only a matter of time before Dylan realized she was gone, so she bounded down the hill and disappeared into the dark.

When Rhys finally got to Dylan’s estate, she cleared the walls with ease. Even if she took a moment to lounge at the top and enjoy the view, her tail swishing back and forth. The mountain lion jumped down, trotted through the garden and then nudged open the back door. Rhys paused in the foyer before she padded up the stairs and down the long hallway. The mountain lion’s shadow cast along the wall, by the faint bit of moonlight coming in through the windows. She froze when she heard Dylan stir, though she quickly continued when she realized he was fast asleep. Rhys fidgeted with the door handle before she finally got her bedroom door open. She sprang up onto the bed and flopped down with a content sigh. After a long night of work, she’d rest first, and deal with any consequences later.

A little shifters AU of Rhys and Dylan here-

————————-

Hope County, Montana

2018

The move to Hope County had been long, and tiring. Then again, ex-FBI agent Orion Barys had been looking forward to it. He’d seen too much in the city, in his career, even to bother with staying. Lux Barys, his teenage son, wasn’t nearly as enthusiastic, though he still enjoyed it.

Just as Orion opened the last moving box, his ex K9, Bear, sauntered into the kitchen. The big Rottweiler had ridden in the back seat during the move, though he had just enough room to where he could lay down and stretch out. Orion smiled faintly, reaching down and scratching Bear under his chin, “yeah yeah, ah see ya, bud,” he murmured. Bear responded with a huff before he went to explore the rest of the house, the sound of his nails on the kitchen tile gradually fading into background noise.

Orion, Lux and Bear had found the farm house abandoned, despite the large ‘For Sale’ sign posted out in the front yard. It was as if the previous owners had been in the middle of listing their house, when they’d up and left everything behind. Furniture, decorations, everything. Orion had even swept the whole house top to bottom with Bear, the two of them catching a fleeting feeling of being back on the job. And still, Orion didn’t find anything that’d indicated any sign of a struggle. No blood splatters, no bullet holes, nothing out of order.

The people of Falls End, the nearby town, had even welcomed them with open arms. Though still, Orion had a hunch something was off. There was just a hint of tension, hanging in the air like a fat cloud before a thunderstorm. Orion attempted to chalk it up to a result of his former career, though he knew something was off. The strange white pickup trucks cruising down the dirt roads only attested to his little theory.

“Dad!” Lux shouted, his voice coming from somewhere outside. Orion perked up, stopped what he was doing and all but booked it outside with Bear hard on his heels. The two got outside, seeing Lux standing in front of a mostly rundown barn. The younger man had lifted off an old piece of plywood that held the two double doors closed.

“What? What is it? Are ya okay?” Orion asked quickly, his whiskey brown eyes scanning over Lux, searching his son’s form for any sign of injury. “I’m fine,” Lux said quickly, and his lips broke out into a grin. He gestured inside the barn, and Orion followed, only to see a red, mint condition ‘71 Dodge Challenger. Orion shared a look with Lux, and his grin mirrored his son’s, “well would ya look at that.”

And of course, some Orion x John

———

Was tagged by @cassietrn and @noodlecupcakes and in turn I tag @josephseedismyfather @reyl0ct @fingersinmyhair @disney-dream @la-grosse-patate

[talesofsorrowandofruin]

9, 20, 28, 42 for the 49 ask game

Thanks! :D

DEATH - What WIP would you want to be remembered for?:

Good question! I think I'll go with Totentanz. Because time-travellers fighting monsters is a pretty cool thing to be remembered for :D

FIRE - What is the worst thing you've ever created?:

*glares at my first completed WIP* I wouldn't mind so much if it was complete rubbish, but unfortunately past me had a few good ideas. The problem is, they're ruined by bad execution, wooden characters, and some bits that make me want to tear my hair and scream "WHAT WAS I THINKING?".

ILLUSION - What is the best line of description in your WIP?:

An excerpt from each WIP, coming up!

Like Snow on Hungry Graves:

"None of the drawings did justice to how beautiful its tail was. Its scales were dark blue and its fins -- lighter blue and streaked with white and purple -- flared out like a cape."

The Power and the Glory:

"Siarvin set Ilaran down on the bed as gently as if he was made of glass. He disappeared into the small bathroom adjoining the room, leaving Abi alone with the body. In life Ilaran had been one of the tallest men Abi knew. In death he seemed small and more vulnerable than she'd ever seen him look before. His eyes were still partly open, slashes of green in the middle of his chalk-white face."

Gracemeadow Manor:

"The man playing the piano was abnormally tall, with long arms and legs that reminded her of a spider's. He was dressed from head to toe in black with a top hat pulled down over his face. His hands were bone white. In fact she wasn't entirely sure they weren't just bone. What little she could see of his face was also pale. He was either grinning or baring his teeth. Did he have lips at all? Did he have skin at all?"

Totentanz:

"The hole in the veil opened right in front of her. For one nightmarish minute she looked through it into the Óhreinnjǫrð. Colours swirled behind the veil, colours that human eyes should not be able to see. In seconds the landscape changed from mountains to valleys to cities that defied all logic. She saw palaces built on top of enormous spindly towers. A thousand shapes rolled back and forth in the gorge-like streets."

The Unfortunate Moth:

"The middle-aged woman was the main actor in the unfolding drama. A casual passer-by would have assumed she was a British noblewoman — a countess at the very least, to judge by her behaviour. Yo-han had always had a gift for languages and had trained himself to have a decent grasp of accents in foreign languages. He also had studied enough people of all races and from all walks of life to pick up on subtleties of body language and expression. He knew at once that this was no noblewoman. She was as common as common could be, and she knew it. She was afraid everyone else knew it too. That was why she wore five pearl necklaces. That was why her clothes were the very latest fashion, even though they didn't suit her at all. That was why she acted like she owned the ship. That was why she put on an upper-class accent. Yo-han had never seen this woman before, but he had seen a thousand copies of her."

Silver Glass:

"A large and gaudy car was parked outside the front door. Phil eyed it disapprovingly. The owner had better be colour-blind, because there was no other excuse for painting a car in a shade of red normally reserved for overripe tomatoes. And was that velvet upholstery?"

SOUL - What is your favourite WIP?:

Currently it's a tie between The Case-files (murder mysteries are so much fun to write!) and Death Waits for Some Men (black comedies are also so much fun!)

[blossomwritesthings]

Hear me out hear me OUT— hyunjin with a stomach bug while on a train to visit his parents for the first time with y/n and brushing it off as motion sickness but realizes that it’s not when it gets worse when they arrive home and can barely keep anything down and runs a fever🤔

- hi I’m new here can I be “🦊” anon?

𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥

pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader (afab)

genre: sick!fic. idol!hyunjin. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. reader pov. established relationship.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. hyunjin is sick with a stomach bug (that is first thought to be motion sickness). reader and his mother help nurse him back to health. :)) mentions of hyunjin overworking himself w/schedules. angst is in this. fluff is sprinkled throughout. pet names (affectionately).

word count: 2.8k

summary: your first visit back to the small countryside village that your boyfriend hyunjin grew up in suddenly takes a turn for the worse when he starts feeling sick to his stomach. and you're the first person he turns to for comfort.

a/n: wahhhh i'm finally posting this lmao 😭 sorry for the late reply anon, life has been dealing me with a heavy, shitty hand atm sshshshks 💀 anyways, i hope you enjoy this... it was fun to write smth with soft jinnie~ 🥹 also, yes- you can be 🦊 anon, thanks for requesting! 💕

🤎 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋread my rules & guidelines here! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋcheck out my skz masterlist! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋmy wip list! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ skz fic recs [sfw ver]! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋskz fic recs [nsfw ver]! :: 18+, MDNI! ࿐ྂ

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋback to navigation! ࿐ྂ

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). © ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The trip started as any other normal one. It was the first time the two of you were visiting your boyfriend, Hyunjin’s, parents, who lived in a small house in a quaint countryside village. He had taken off the entire weekend from work so that you guys could spend an ample amount of time exploring his hometown. The train that Hyunjin had booked for the two of you was nice enough - with amazing window seats that had a great viewpoint of the passing nature. 

 With his parents living quite far away from Seoul, the trip was well over four hours. 

 And not even thirty minutes into the ride, Hyunjin started to feel shitty. 

 Like every time before - the curse of trip sickness continued to follow you guys. Because it seemed like on every trip that you took together, either one of you - or, worse, sometimes both of you - came down with some form of sickness. The flu, strep throat, it seemed like you two had had it all. 

 But motion sickness was an entirely new one, which is what you chalked up your boyfriend’s symptoms to be. He wasn’t the best at traveling on moving things - but especially cars - so it was expected that he’d feel sick on a train that was going even faster than your average automobile. 

 “Baby- you don’t look so well…” You began in a quiet voice, reaching over in your seat to squeeze one of his knees. 

 Hyunjin was hunched over in his chair, both arms wrapped around his waist as the train’s movement rocked him back and forth - side to side. His eyes were screwed shut, and the tight lock that his jaw was in seemed downright painful. 

 He looked up at you then, eyes a little bloodshot and his face a pasty colour, “No- I’m fine. It’s just… motion sickness.” He said, trying to give you a reassuring smile. But it came out all wrong, seeming almost agonizing for him to conjure up. 

 “You know, if you want to get off at the next stop, we can,” you started, eyes tearing away from your boyfriend’s crumpled form and peering out the window. The cityscape was long gone and was instead replaced with fields upon fields of grassy farmland and small villages nestled beside towering mountains. “I’m sure you’re parents would understand if we’re a day late- we can find a hotel in a nearby town and-”

 “No.” Hyunjin ground out in a stern tone, making you whip your head around to stare at him as he frowned your way. “We’re not arriving late just because I- I have a weak stomach. I can make it- we only have…” With a glance at the small screen just underneath the window that continually flashed your arrival time, he nodded slowly. “An hour left.” 

 You shrugged slowly, offering him a tiny smile. “Okay, well if you’re sure you can make it in one piece.” 

 “I'm positive.” 

 When the silence lapsed between the two of you, you moved over to his chair, nestling into the corner beside him and grabbing onto one of his hands. It was warm and clammy to the touch as you squeezed your fingers between his. “I just don’t want you to push yourself too much, yeah? You’ve been going nonstop with the schedules since the new year.”

 Hyunjin gave you that look, the one that he always used when you were 'babying him too much.' Although he liked to play the role of being a soft and pliable man in Stray Kids, when he was alone with you, he was just the opposite. He hated when you doted on him too much because he always claimed that that was his job. Hence, why he always loathed getting sick in any way. 

 So your boyfriend leaned into your space and pressed a chaste kiss against your temple. “Don’t worry, darling. I’m gonna be fine.” 

 But it seemed like his body had a mind of its own because exactly as those words left his mouth, he was shooting up from his seat beside you.

 “What’s wrong?” You asked, concern laden in your voice as you watched him frantically clamp a palm over his mouth. His face was suddenly green-looking. 

 “B-Bathroom-” He only managed to say, before he was sliding the door to your seats open and ran down the hallway of the train. 

 Sucking in a deep breath, you shoved your head against the back of your seat and closed your eyes in exhaustion.

 Because it sure was going to be a long hour ahead. 

Much to your surprise, Hyunjin’s condition only worsened once you arrived at his parent’s house. He was nearly doubled over in misery by the time you guys landed on his childhood house’s doorstep, and the moment his mother caught sight of her sickened son, she was ushering the two of you in hastily.

 In no time at all, she had some chicken-and-rice porridge cooked and was serving it to the two of you. Hyunjin ate in silence, bent over the kitchen table, spooning up the thin soup in small bites. His mother was sitting with you guys as you ate, while his father was still out at work. 

 You frowned at Hyunjin before your gaze met his mother’s. “I told him we should’ve waited a day and stopped at a nearby hotel on the way in. But no- he just wanted to get here today.” 

 She chuckled softly at that, “That’s my Hyunjin… doesn’t want to be late to anything if he can help it. And besides, I’m glad you didn’t because I’m the best person to take care of him.” Her eyes - which were so similar to your boyfriend’s chestnut brown ones - flicked to him across the table. She offered him a gentle smile, cooing quietly in motherly admiration. “Isn’t that right, my little Jinnie? Your mama is the best at nursing you back to health.” 

 Hyunjin abruptly pushed his bowl of porridge away from him, eyes alight with a certain kind of fire as they darted between the two of you. “I-I feel sick again.” He said in a low, gravelly voice. He slumped over in his chair, seemingly too exhausted to hold up his head for another second. 

 And in tandem, both you and his mother were rising from your chairs. While you wrapped two arms around your boyfriend to hoist him up from his seat, his mother was busy clearing the table. 

 “Bring him into his bedroom- it’s just off to the left of the family room,” his mother instructed, quickly rinsing out the bowls of porridge in the sink. You nodded in silence, beginning to make the trek through the house to Hyunjin’s bedroom. 

 He leaned his entire weight against you, and it was a struggle to walk down the hall as you carried his lengthy body the whole way. Hyunjin groaned desperately, and you noticed the small beads of sweat beginning to race down his temples from his hairline. 

 Hyunjin was delirious with his discomfort, so once you got him situated on his bed, he all but curled up into the thick duvet coverlets, nuzzling his head into the downy pillows. His room was medium in size, and you noticed the small sleeping bag that was set up just beside his bed - where you supposed his parents expected you to sleep since there was no guest bedroom in the house. Still, they must’ve been very naive if they thought that you’d take the floor over sleeping in the same bed as your boyfriend. After all, the two of you had been living together for well over a year. 

 “That doesn’t look like motion sickness to me,” you heard his mother say in a quiet voice from behind you. You turned on your heels then, raising a skeptical eyebrow her way. And immediately, you could see the worry dawn across her face - by the way her jaw tightened slightly and her eyes darkened. “Motion sickness doesn’t last this long after getting on stable ground.” 

 You peered back at your boyfriend, who was now tossing and turning atop the bed. He was moaning lowly in his frenzy, eyes screwed shut, almost like opening them physically hurt him. And just seeing him that way - seeing the love of your life - so distraught, caused something anxious and pained to rattle deep inside of you. 

 “So what do you think it is, then?” 

 “If I had to guess- probably a stomach bug.” 

 You watched in silence, as Hyunjin’s mother strode over to the nearby window and flipped the shades closed. Then, she hovered over the nightstand that was just beside his bed and switched on the faint light there. It cast a warm glow across the walls of the room and painted Hyunjin’s writhing, ghostly-white form in a frail kind of way. 

 “Do you know what he ate before traveling today?” His mother asked as she was already pressing a palm against his forehead. His face was flushed with crimson, his cheeks rosy with sweat. 

 “I think it was one of those bento lunches- we picked some up at the local convenience store before leaving for the station.” 

 She gave a deep sigh then, shaking her head slowly. “That’ll do it… some of those pre-made lunches are notorious for being expired. I always warned him not to eat that crap.” 

 “He’ll be okay though, right?” You could feel the panic rising inside of you, speeding up your heart and forcing it to pound against your ribcage. Because you had never seen him like this - in such misery. Usually, whenever he was sick, it only lasted for a few days at most and was the common cold or on very rare occasion, the flu. But this? Flailing around the bed in distress? With skin colour close to that of a phantom? It was all something you’d never seen before from him.

 “Mhm- these stomach bugs usually only last a day or two, and he’s had them before. The best thing to do is to let him rest and continually monitor his condition,” his mother grabbed a blanket and gently tucked it around his form. “He’s running a fever, so we’ll probably have to stay up for most of the night to help him break it.” 

 You had been frozen near the doorway for so long since you didn’t know what to do. But finally, upon hearing her words, you were flitting over to Hyunjin’s side. You ran a few fingers through his silky black locks, noticing how warm he was. The heat seemed to radiate off of his entire body, prodding hopelessly at that anxiousness inside of you. 

 “I’ll go grab some cold cloths and water, so you just keep an eye on him, okay?” His mother bent over the bed then, giving one of your shoulders a delicate pat. You stared up at her with wide eyes, a lump starting to form in your throat at the sight of your boyfriend being in so much despair from a mere stomach bug. “He’s gonna be okay, sweetheart.” 

 Then, she was off to get the supplies and you were left to watch over your boyfriend. You scooted his body a little bit to the side and sat down on the bed next to him. The mattress was a full size, and could easily fit the two of you comfortably.

 You pressed a palm to one of his cheeks, sweeping a gentle thumb across his damp skin there. “It’ll be alright, babe… I’m right here…” You said in a whisper to him. But if you were being honest, the words were more for you than anything else. They helped to calm that racing part in your mind, and all at once, your focus honed in on one thing only - just taking care of your boyfriend and nursing him back to health as quickly as you could. 

 Hyunjin’s fever broke sometime in the middle of the night. You and his mother had been tirelessly working all night to help him combat the pain - what with all of the cold washcloths and helping him stumble to the bathroom every time he felt the urge to vomit. After a while, nothing came up in the toilet bowl. Even still, it was like his stomach hated him, and just wanted to try and toss out every last ounce of liquid he had left inside of his body. As a result, you and his mother decided to refrain from giving him any liquid until the vomiting completely stopped. 

 After the clock struck one a.m., you assured his mother that you could handle him for the rest of the night. And after convincing her despite her many protests, she finally made her way to bed. You didn’t want to admit that you were exhausted yourself, but you knew that he needed you at that moment. Even if he wasn’t self-aware enough to know who was helping him through the hurt. 

 But with the break of the fever, also came the clearing of his head. And suddenly, your boyfriend was wide awake at three in the morning. He was still weak in the limbs, so he abated your wishes to stay in bed until at least seven.

 “Thank you, darling,” he whispered to you late that night. You had turned off the room’s single light, leaving you in complete darkness save for the faint glow of the street lamp that shined through the window’s curtains. “You’ve taken such good care of me.” 

 You gave him a faint smile, even though he couldn’t see it in the dim of the bedroom. “Yeah- of course, I’m always gonna take care of you, Jinnie. Even if I’m on my fucking deathbed, I’ll be nursing you back to health if that’s what you need.” 

 He let out a faint chuckle at that before he was shifting on the bed and nearing you. After his mother had finally left, you had decided to curl up next to your boyfriend for the remainder of the night. Because to hell with that stupid sleeping bag.  

“You sleepy, baby?” Hyunjin mused. You felt his nimble fingers reach up toward your face and tuck a few strands of your messy hair behind one of your ears. 

 “Y-Yeah…” You mumbled, voice growing faint as the shadows around you began to slowly soothe you to sleep. The sound of Hyunjin’s steady breathing right next to you, and the feel of his fingers brushing through your locks, helped usher you further into the twilight of slumber.

 “You can sleep now, lovely, it’s okay.” 

 “B-But I wanna be awake in case you-”

 He grunted out a laugh at that, “Don’t worry about me, I’m fine now.” 

 “Still, I promised your mom that I’d nurse you completely back to health.” 

 The plush mattress dipped underneath you then, and suddenly, you felt warm lips land against your forehead. Pressing a whispery kiss to the skin there, Hyunjin moved ever so slightly, so that his lips were ghosting over the shell of your ear. “And what if I said that just laying beside you like this has already nursed me back to full health?” 

 You cracked your eyes open, trying to find his eyes in the swarthiness of the room. Instead, you were met with an ink splotch of a face and the distinct outline of a proud shoulder. 

 “I still don’t w-want to…” you began, but you could feel yourself nodding off - your eyes grew heavy and drooped low, mouth parting slightly in a deep sigh. 

 “I swear to fuck- if you don’t go to sleep this instant, I’m really gonna lose it. And not in the stomach-bug kind of way.” Hyunjin said, his voice a little sterner this time than before. 

 That got you giggling, as you tried to keep your voice down so that you didn’t wake his parents that were just across the hallway. “Okay, okay- I’ll go to sleep.” 

 “That’s my girl.” 

 And at that moment, you thanked the stars above that the bedroom was too dark for either of you to see anything - else, Hyunjin would start teasing you about the furious blush that crept up your neck and pooled in the tips of your ears and cheeks at his words alone. 

 Because yes, you were his girl. 

 And you always loved it when he made a point of that. 

 “Goodnight, my Jinnie…” Your voice trailed off, as you finally allowed yourself to relax down into the thick duvet that was all around you, muscles nearly melting into dreamland. 

 One of Hyunjin's long arms wrapped around your waist then, and he pulled you close to him, burying your face into his warm chest. “Night, my beautiful, magnificent girl."

Fin.

taglist: want to be added onto my taglist so that you always get notified when i post a new work? well then, comment below on this post/reblog it, and indicate your interest in my taglist and i'll add you... or, you can simply send me a msg and request to be added that way~

© ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

[swaps55]

WIP Wednesday

From the next chapter of Fugue.

~

Kaidan feels around in his chalk bag to give his hand a fresh coat before grasping at the next handhold and heaving himself up a little higher. The top of the rock course is about five meters above him. Two-thirds of the way there. He exhales. His fingertips are numb and his legs shake, but with Pendergrass bounding up the wall beside him like a damned mountain goat he’s damn well not going to show it. She’s not even in it for the climb – the part she’s looking forward to the most is the free-rappel down.

The rock wall on Arcturus is practically a rite of passage. Located in the Icarius section of the ring, it rears up five levels, surrounded by viewing panes, earning it the nickname the Star Wall. The romance of ‘climbing the stars,’ is almost singlehandedly responsible for drawing civilians to Arcturus.

There’s a little less romance to the advanced course and a lot more sweat and exertion, but on a day like today that’s the point.

Today, the point is not to think, which is exactly why Pendergrass had convinced him to come out here.

He wipes his brow and takes a deep breath, shifting in his harness to look out at the stars. The viewing panes extend the entire height of the rock wall and then some, offering a panoramic view of infinity on par with Shepard’s hideout over in Callisto. Millions of stars stand as stalwart beacons of light in impenetrable darkness. Except they’re not beacons. Not really. Some of them are so far away they’re mere snapshots of lost history. Countless stars out that window collapsed in on themselves perhaps billions of years ago, the evidence of their destruction still traversing the tremendous distance to Arcturus. But lurking behind those monuments to the dead is the knowledge that new stars whose light hasn’t reached them yet wait in the wings, new and wondrous to behold some day in the future, perhaps long after humanity, too, is just a memory.

It's easy, sometimes, to see why Shepard loved the stars so much.

[unmellowyellowfellow]

that's it.

im gonna do it

im rewriting it all.

everything.

[northerngoshawk]

Happy FFWF! Talk a little about your current WIP(s). What about it is frustrating you, what is motivating you to write it, and share a snippet if you like!

happy ffwf, hotwife! and oh boiiii, all i've been doing is talking about my current wip, but if you insist 😌

in case you somehow missed the last few hundred times i've said this: my current wip is a 大鱼海棠 (Big Fish & Begonia) AU for Kataang that closely follows the plot of the movie, with modifications due to worldbuilding and characters.

what's frustrating about this wip right now is... well, everything. first of all, i'm leeching off the completely Chinese version of the movie, no subs or dubs, so i have to spend time translating everything. it's not hard, per se - most of the dialogue is modified for the fic anyways - but i still want to follow the general gist of it. hoorah. second of all, this is a Chinese movie, meaning that most of the elements in the movie are... Chinese. thus, i'm taking whatever opportunities i can to mix in references to other cultures, from plot points to just details for worldbuilding... which, while satisfying, requires a lot of research, even when it just gets mentioned in passing. bleh. and third of all, did you know that 10 minutes of a movie can translate to 6k+ words? granted, it depends on whether or not it's an important 10 minutes, but still. I was originally planning for it to be just 8 chapters, but with how chapter 4 is coming along right now, it might be split into 9, maybe even 10.

what motivates me to keep writing this fic is partially my own want to get this au put down on a piece of paper - so to speak - but also @chocomd's excitement for this. i've always wanted to write this fic for a long time, ever since that one Kataang 100 prompt I wrote for "Alone," but ultimately it was choco who encouraged me to write it - in a roundabout way. i had gotten into a slump a few weeks ago where i was feeling burned out and discouraged by the lack of engagement, and i was wondering if it was even worth writing anymore. choco helped me see it in a different light and pointed out that this was my chance to write the craziest thing i wanted to write and not worry about how other people will take it. choco, thank you <3

but the fact that at least three people (including you!) are even interested in reading this keeps me motivated. seriously, i probably couldn’t have gotten this far without your support; it really makes all this worth it <3

now, you want a snippet? you got it!

Sokka frowned when he saw the form of his sister clambering up the steps of the mountain.

He had known something was up during dinnertime, when she had listlessly pushed around her stewed sea prunes, her favorite meal. Normally, he would've chalked it up to the aftereffects of the rite of passage—he remembered being completely disoriented afterwards too—but this time was different. There was a restlessness in the way she sat, the way her eyes darted from her food to the opening of their igloo, the way she had that gleam in her eye.

And sure, maybe he should've left her well enough alone—he had been frozen to the wall by an angry sister more times than he cared to admit—but… he was worried for her.

Ever since she came back from the human realm, she hadn't been the same.

He couldn't help but notice how she barely ventured out of her igloo anymore. He couldn't help but notice the darkening bags under her eyes, like she was barely sleeping. He couldn't help but notice how little she was eating, how she barely touched her food.

He knew their parents had noticed as well and were worried for her; every night afterwards, as he waited for sleep to come, he could hear them discussing Katara's state, wondering what had happened up there to cause such listlessness in her. Ultimately, they had decided to not push, worried that it would only break her further, and care for her as much as they could.

Not Sokka.

As Katara's big brother, it was his duty to protect her. And as much as she insisted she didn't need protection, he couldn't help but worry for her.

And so, when he had seen her sneak away, he threw on his parka and followed.

thanks for the ask!

[queenofbaws]

Happy (not quite) SSS, the year has been hectic as I’m sure you’ll agree! May I please request our favourite old men - just kickin it back, enjoying a lunch, maybe a few mimosas? Whatever tickles your fancy. Hope the week has been kind to you and that you’ve made time for yourself :)

(not quite) six sentence weekend

(i try not to throw too many author’s notes into these, but this time i just HAD to point out that after @fudgeroach mentioned the guardian angel au - that i def don’t think i currently have a tag for whoops - earlier this week, i just. i haven’t been able to stop myself from thinking about it SO. until i have fewer wips...here’s something to perhaps wet the whistle ;P)

Alan’s relief was palpable each time a new face wandered up the spiraling path towards the lodge unaccompanied. The fact that they were alone meant little in the grand scheme, but despite the things he’d seen and experienced in his time, he still liked to err on the side of optimism – no otherworldly chaperones simply meant there was no uncertainty about what would come next, and it was simply easier to assume that meant long, healthy lives. Part of that was, of course, that he wanted to believe it true, if only for Josh’s sake. He’d been through so much, was doing so much better than he had been, and if anyone deserved an uneventful night, it was him…

But then Ashley had arrived and all of that hope withered and died like an insect under a magnifying glass.

Theirs was a post made more of ability than character, and even so the mismatch between them was jarring to say the least. Ashley was a slip of a girl, cobbled together as if by some eccentric dollmaker…perhaps one who prioritized eyes over all else, giving her the air of someone perpetually frightened or constantly on the verge of tears; the figure behind her, though, was tall and solid, his smile and his stride deliberate almost to the point of conceit, and if there was anything at all in those chalk-dust eyes of his, it wasn’t fear.

Ashley and Josh said their hellos, the interaction made awkward and stilted by what Alan knew was a complicated knot of resentment and guilt, the core of their friendship struggling madly to rise to the surface of the murky anger harbored between them. All the while, he and the other said nothing, well beyond the point of needing to acknowledge one another; they had crossed paths too many times for that. It was hard not to look at him, though, to tamp down the bloom of dread slowly spreading inside of him at the sight of his smug smile, his feigned disinterest as he swept the snowy clearing from under the brim of his bowler.

It became slightly easier to ignore him as Chris arrived. Worse in its own way, too – already he could tell the kind of night they were preparing to have – though if nothing else, the haggard figure ambling along beside him oozed none of the malice the other did. Little consolation, that, very little indeed when one took everything into account.

Of the group Josh had invited up to the mountain tonight, two had turned up with shadows like him, perhaps not angels, per se, but guardians of a sort, the mere presence of whom suggested something cataclysmic, something with the potential to be life-altering (or ending, as it were) was fast approaching. All the others had been unaccompanied, their fates sealed in definite fact, unknown to him but past the point of intervention. How he’d clung to that optimism of his, allowed himself that sliver of hope that this would be where Josh’s luck began to turn around…

“Well this don’t exactly seem like the most reassuring guest list,” said the newcomer next to Chris, keeping his one unclouded eye on the boy as he and Josh and Ashley went about talking, the lot of them milling around with their other friends perfectly unaware of the three older men standing in their midst. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m pretty new at all this mess, so I s’pose I could be reading this all the wrong way, but uh,” he looked to each of them in turn, his eyes lingering just over Ashley’s shoulder.

Alan hoped that, new or not, this one knew enough not to bring attention to what he saw. Mentioning another’s wings was bad manners on the best of days – bringing attention to his was something else completely.

He seemed to get the message. “There bein’ more than one of us here isn’t exactly a great sign, is it?”

“Oh, I don’t know that I’d say that.” His voice matched his eyes, the one standing behind Ashley; flinty and cold, polite only in theory. “Personally, my hopes for tonight are quite high.” For the first time since arriving, his gaze slid to Alan, punctuated in a slow, self-assured blink. “Ever the optimist am I.”

Offering the stranger a tight-lipped smile, Alan refused to rise to the other’s bait. Experience alone had taught him that much; whatever he had planned, there was no use in fueling the fire, not when he enjoyed the circling around just as much as what came after. “I wouldn’t be overly concerned. I’ve been with Josh for a while now—” The stranger narrowed his eyes at that and Alan quickly elaborated, “—a rough patch, you understand—”

“Some people, you’ll find as time goes on,” interrupted the other, that self-assured smile firmly in place even as he turned around to watch his charge wander off and talk to another girl, “Don’t necessarily want help in staying alive. One might even say they prefer the alternative.”

Alan soldiered on as if he hadn’t heard him, but the newcomer had gone back to examining him very closely, his focus moving between the two of them and back. Comparing, no doubt. Wondering. “—suffice it to say, I’m more than a little familiar with Christopher and Ashley and their personalities. They’re always around, you understand. I’m sure things will be fine in the end, Josh simply has a way of…well, let’s say pulling people into his questionable ideas, from time to time.”

The stranger hummed at that, more to fill the silence, he thought, that to prove understanding. He glanced Chris’s way quickly, another doubtful expression flitting across his face, but all the kids seemed fine for now. “Let’s hope you’re right on that, er…”

“Alan,” he said with a slight nod, glad no handshakes had been initiated.

There was a marked silence before the stranger cleared his throat and the one behind Ashley pretended he’d only just realized what was expected of him. “Edgar.” It was accompanied by that same smile, like he were made of marble and that was where the chisel had first struck.

“That a joke or somethin’?” he snorted. “Edgar and Alan, huh? You go around tellin’ people that because of the, uh…” And then he did a stupid thing, a very stupid thing indeed, because he gestured to Edgar more fully. He seemed to fully be expecting a punch line, maybe even a sheepish smile as he admitted ah yes, yes, it was quite a hilarious little shtick, wasn’t it?

Only Edgar simply continued to smile. If he moved at all, which was questionable at best, it was to cock his head ever so slightly to the side. He was the one waiting for a punch line, that expression said. He was the one waiting for the joke to be told.

The stranger backed off immediately, as though his foot had been stepped on. “I’m, uh, Jack,” he grumbled after a moment, only too glad to glance away and see Chris and Josh slowly but surely parting themselves from the rest of the group, walking towards the back of the lodge. “No rest for the wicked, huh?” he added quickly, turning on his heel to follow after his charge before he could get too far out of eyeshot.

“If only you knew how right you are.” Edgar said it so lowly, so softly, that even Alan only barely heard it. Then he too took his leave, following after Ashley at a leisurely pace as she found a spot on the steps to sit and wait for the boys to return.

This was going to be a difficult night. He could see that now. If they were lucky, though, deeply and profoundly lucky, ‘difficult’ would end somewhere short of ‘deadly.’ Anywhere short of it.

After a beat, he began following after Josh as well, making no immediate effort to match pace with Jack. No, not just yet. Not until he figured out what this meant for them – for all of them. As guardians, their job was obvious: Guarding their charges’ lives no matter what came their way. It was a feat easier said than done, even for the weathered ones such as himself, the ones who’d done this a time or two before. Jack would have his work cut out for him even if this had been a normal night. Which it most certainly wasn’t.

Because he had something of a history with Edgar, Alan did. A storied one, at that. He knew his work, knew how he operated, and none of that could mean anything good for what was about to happen.

Mostly because Edgar wasn’t a guardian. Not in the strictest sense of the word, anyway. He was…he was something else, something sometimes sent out for reasons running perpendicular to their own. Alan had a suspicion Jack had at least questioned his intentions when he’d caught sight of his wings, the awful things, Poe’s haunting raven come to life, all black and slick as the night itself, iridescent and dripping in the way an oil spill seemed right before it clogged your throat. That suspicion was all fine and good, but new as he was, Jack still had no way of understanding the gravity of the situation. Before too long, he knew he’d have to broach the topic with him, warn him, somehow.

For whatever reason, through whatever twist of fate, Ashley Brown had not come to this mountain accompanied by a guardian of her own, but by a harbinger of death.

And one who took his job very, very seriously, at that.

[shrunkupthejams]

um right, going to sleep, im totally doing that.. anyway, nnsei brainrot grabbed me by the throat, so here's a snippet w/ colour symbolism that i forgot i had

The tall chalk walls of the Academy were sickly as Aeliane looked upon them with fresh eyes. Over the years of operation, the school's walls had faded to a fitting white: the colour of death. The rain-damp soil below contrasted deeply with its rich, dark hues—those hid their own share of secrets, as lethal as the walls above. 

     She was glad she was out. (She was glad it was over.) 

     Looking back at the towering Academy as it shrunk into the mountain behind it with distance, it felt like it all should have been so obvious; corruption written on its colourless walls. 

wip stuff taglist: @multi-lefaiye :)

[bluefirewrites]

WIP Wednesday: Two Doors Down Sneak Peek!

A tidbit from the next chapter of Two Doors... 

You might notice it’s slightly different from all the others...

Here's the fic on AO3.

*******

Julie didn’t hold much trust in the universe. 

She chalked it up to piss poor timing. 

It had been the little things at first-like finally reaching the front of the line to Space Mountain, only for the ride to break down (this would literally happen every time she goes!)

Or being born a couple generations off and the chances of being with Patrick Swayze were now considerably slim. (Rest in the stars, king). 

But as she got older, it became less of a nuisance and more of a direct attack on her life… 

Her mom getting diagnosed with some blood disease the day before she was going to audition for her school’s music program was one glaring example. 

Her therapy sessions coinciding with the only days that her friends were able to hang out, so she could never really getting close with anyone, was another.

And finding out she was going to spend her last two years of high school in a new town right when she was adjusting to life post-mom’s recovery had been stellar. 

She had definitely handled that well… 

Maybe that was why she was so adamant in being punctual for things. To make up for how often she gets screwed over in terms of timing. 

But the universe wasn’t all that bad. She knew when to count her blessings. After all, the move had been, in all seriousness, the best thing to ever happen to Julie. 

All because it had brought him to her door...

[lizwontcry]

Fic Writer Review

Thanks for the tag @cheesybadgers :) :)

(I'm gonna do the AO3 version 'cause I have more stuff there)

How many works do you have on AO3?

Um... 133? I'm fine! It's fine.

What are your top 5 fics by notes?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5174777/chapters/11921108 - Coming Around Again - Gwen Stefani/Blake Shelton (look I went through a phase okay)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813326/chapters/13396783 - Blind Item - Gwen Stefani/Blake Shelton

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25249018/chapters/61208128

Ride - Jesse/Walt

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34083892/chapters/84791023

Muscle Memory - Jesse/Walt (woohoo, not even finished posting the whole thing yet)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/356897/chapters/577987

Pandora's Box - Penny/Sheldon

What’s your total Tumblr word count?

1,039,100 (um wow)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

Sometimes it takes me a while but I try to respond to all of them these days. I haven't always. But now that comments are few and far between, I like to acknowledge that I received it and it meant a lot to me.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I'm gonna say The Reverse Crush Conundrum - https://archiveofourown.org/works/337353/chapters/582178 -

Sheldon and Penny have that magical happy ending and I'm proud of it.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Ride - https://archiveofourown.org/works/25249018/chapters/61208128 It has a bittersweet ending because Jesse gets to be happy in Alaska but also Walt is dead, ha.

Do you write crossovers?

I wrote a Ghost Whisperer x CSI crossover once when I was in the middle of a Problem with both of those shows -

The Distance of the Dead - https://archiveofourown.org/works/149402/chapters/214040

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Oh yes, one of my Sheldon/Penny fics certainly caused a commotion among the Sheldon/Amy community, ha. I posted it three years ago and still get hate for it occasionally (it's also my one-shot with the highest kudos soooo)

Green Light - https://archiveofourown.org/works/19461592

Do you write smut?

Do I ever not write smut?

If so what kind?

Most of the time it's porn with feelings, lots of touching, so much kissing, but also quite explicit when I feel like I can get away with it. I resisted slash fic for so long for whatever reason and when I finally got into it, I can't stop writing it now. Which is possibly and/or probably problematic.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, no one wants claim my weird shit, ha.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I think I've been asked about it before but I haven't seen it.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

I used to say it was Grissom/Sara (woooo CSI premieres tonightttt) and Sheldon/Penny but I think I have to go with Walt/Jesse and/or Bryan/Aaron at this point, based on both the amount I've written and how long this hyperfixation has lasted so far (we're almost going on a year and a half here). The heart wants what it wants.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Ohh man there's a few. https://archiveofourown.org/works/4437278/chapters/10081616 - The Sliding Door Hypothesis (Sheldon/Penny) deserves to be finished but I ran out of steam. Same with You're Back (Grissom/Sara) - https://archiveofourown.org/works/3199556/chapters/6957857 - but Grissom did end up coming back and then I didn't feel a need to finish it which is disappointing.

What are your writing strengths?

I'm stealing this answer from @cheesybadgers - I think I’m good at characterization and introspection re: the characters’ thoughts, feelings, motivations etc.

Pretty much sums it up, ha.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I have a huge problem with repetition. I use a lot of the same words and phrases in literally everything I write. It drives me crazy! Also I'm just not very good at describing kissing anymore, which makes me sad. I want to write the best kisses, damn it. Also I'm not that great at visual descriptions of things like my bestie @yoporkchopsandwiches is. I want to describe the view from a mountain and it's all "Everything looked smaller below, it was pretty and scenic." Help.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it's great if you can pull it off, but I am not fluent in other languages so that's not really my jam.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

If we want to get really technical, I wrote some embarrassing cringy Baby-Sitters Club parody stuff when I was like 11 years old and I first learned how to use a computer. But we will not speak of that.

In 2004 I watched CSI for the first time and I noticed that Grissom and Sara were really flirty together ("Chalk. From plaster.") and I was so intrigued that I searched for them on the interwebs and it was then that I discovered fandon/fanfic and my life was forever changed.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

Ohhh that would be Muscle Memory - https://archiveofourown.org/works/34083892/chapters/84791023

It's been a year-long journey, from just thinking about the concept to plotting it all out and then taking my sweet time writing it. It's over 100,000 words, the longest story I've ever written, and I'm very proud of it. I have a favorite story in every fandom I've written in but this will be forever be my favorite, I am pretty sure of that.

No pressure tags: @yoporkchopsandwiches, @huesos-sangrientos @whatwearewillbe and anyone else who wants to play!

[yoongsgguktae]

3 and/or 8 for the writing ask game? (Also omg, I hope you're able to recover soon! 💕)

thank you for the ask max ❤️❤️ I appreciate it and I’m doing ok!! thankfully I have mild symptoms for now 

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway) This is a good question! The one scene that comes to mind is one I started writing more than a year ago. It was my first writing piece honestly, it started off as a daydream and I was trying to write a fic around it and I just didn’t care for the context and only the scene. It’s basically idol Tae taking a vacation (like the one month break they had back in 2018) and he ends up at the reader’s small town in the mountains. 

I’ll share it under the cut, please don’t laugh at how bad it is lmao. I have since scrapped the idea altogether.

8. Is what you like to write the same as what you like to read? Yes and no. I mostly enjoy reading fantasy romance but have yet to really master it, or more like, feel like I could actually be good at it? The two things I have posted on here are more contemporary which is fine, but my preference is fantasy/sci-fi. I have many wips that are in those genres but I wanted to get more comfortable with writing before venturing there. My contemporary work has helped me understand my writing style better and I hope to translate them into the genres I prefer soon! 

ask me fun meta-questions

this is the scene I scrapped, rereading it now makes me uwu at the possibilities it could have had.

Taehyung grabs the menu off the counter and with one glance, he doesn't have a clue on which one he should choose. "Which beer do you recommend?" He looks over to his right as you get comfortable in your seat.  You pluck the beer list out of his hands once you are settled in and scroll through the options. "Well, it all depends on your taste. Do you prefer lagers, IPAs, stouts—" He doesn't let you finish and interrupts mid-sentence, "IPAs for sure!"  You grin. "Same, they have great options here. The best around, honestly." You turn the list towards him while explaining the different types they have.  Taehyung isn't paying attention to what you are saying, he's too focused on how nice your hair smells as you lean in closer to talk over the commotion of the taproom. "I'll have whichever one you're having." After two rounds of the bar’s strongest IPAs, you were both feeling the influence of the alcohol. Your stools have gotten a lot closer as time has passed. You were now turned towards each other, faces intimately and comfortably closer as you carried on with your conversations.  Chalking it up to liquid courage, you finally ask the one question you have been wanting to get an answer to since the morning he walked into Marie's coffee shop.  "I have a question," you start. He slightly nods in acknowledgment for her to continue, raising his beer to his lips while keeping his eyes trained on yours. "Why did you introduce yourself as V instead of Taehyung?"  He chokes on his beer, immediately slamming his glass on the counter to relieve his airway by slapping his chest with his first. You chuckle as you stroke his back in an attempt to help.  Once he finally gains control of his breathing, Taehyung looks at you with wide eyes. "Wait, what?!"  Your smile grows and you chuckle looking away. "You know who I am?" He dips his head even closer to yours as he lowers his voice, not wanting to bring attention to you two.  You meet his eyes with a soft grin. "Don't worry, if anyone around here knew who you were, they would've come up to you by now. I don't think anyone at this bar knows that you're part of the biggest K-pop group of all time."  "That's not the point," he interjects. "You've known who I was this entire time and you didn't freak out?"  A second goes by before you realize what he said. You tip your head back and let out a roaring laugh. He watches with a sly grin as you wipe your eyes from laughing so hard, admiring how beautiful you look at this moment. Your face has turned a light shade of red from the alcohol and laughing fit.  You come back down from your high and shrug. "I must have good self-control I guess."  Taehyung smirks. "Unbelievable. You did not fangirl once." His eyes were dancing with amusement, watching as you let out another laugh. He scoots closer to you, encompassing your legs in-between his as he leans into your ear. A playful atmosphere settles between you two.  "I'm assuming then that I'm not your favorite," he states matter of factly, his tone whiny and childish.  You place your hand on his thigh for balance as you carry on this conversation while speaking in each other's ears. "I'm not telling." Taehyung pulls back slightly with a pout on his face. "Well, that just proves my point. You don't want to hurt my feelings, I get it."