woonietune

[woonietune]

New Drabbles--15 Dong-soo/Woon Drabbles! First writing in almost 6 months!

Awake <---link to Archive of Our Own where you can read these 15 drabbles (omg I finally wrote something; I've never had a writer's block like this ever in my life; I have hypergraphia actually).

Rated T and up

Characters:

Yeo Woon

Baek Dong-soo

King Yi San (peripherally)

Relationships:

Baek Dong-soo/Yeo Woon

Myung In-su/Sabong Eu-joo (barely)

Tags:

Drabbles, drabble-story, pillow talk, reflective vignette, identity issues, romantic tension, established couple, touching that’s more sensual than sexual, light kissing, light and dark, healing from trauma, acceptance of ambiguity, wedding ring metaphor, Woon had birth pangs, NOT MPREG I SWEAR LOL, Yi San may be a kid at heart but always the adult in the story, psychological, poetic I’m sorry, I love how love is, okay there’s IMPLIED sex but it’s super mild and romantic

Summary:

Short 15 drabble series set in Flowers series with a very post-canon Woon being his dark, pensive self late at night with Dong-soo. Some romance, mostly identity issues. As I was telling Bolt_DMC the other day in a comment after he identified Woon’s story as romantic weltschmerz, I’ve never been sure if Woon’s issues fall under the category of angst, ennui, or weltschmerz. In canon, they were not exactly the Korean version of melancholy (han) because Woon wasn’t a frustrated young man; he necessarily becomes angrier in my post-canon stories. And after anger? He’s still too young to be wise, yet he’s lived through too much to be like most people who sleepwalk through life. And he’s so lucky to be inextricably bound to someone who loves him unconditionally. Woon in Korean means luck. In my stories, it’s usually good luck. But who knows when bad luck isn’t good luck in disguise? Many things are masked; Woon was.

Good and bad, I define these terms

Quite clear, no doubt, somehow.

Ah, but I was so much older then,

I'm younger than that now.--Bob Dylan, My Back Pages, written in 1964, not performed until 1988. 

Oh Max, I hate you for seeing Bobby live on April Fool’s Day. 

I haven’t been able to write since 10/7. Woon called me back. And a soundtrack of Matisyahu, a lifelong favorite artist, urged me in that direction too. Thank you to all readers and writers in fanfic land who have supported me. Special thanks to Bolt_DMC, whose last comments may have given me the necessary push past the only writer’s block I’ve ever experienced.

 Day 180, April 4, 2024/ 25 Adar ll 5784

 אין לנו ארץ אחרת

Continued Notes (Personal)  Political. Be Forewarned: I am a Zionist

[woonietune]

Chapt Thirtyfive of Waiting for the Past isn't a chapter: it's fanart and self-reprobation and gossip and apologetics and an attempt to manifest world peace, cookies, or fix Writer's Block. Also, fandom drama isn't a MENA crisis

Chapter 35 of Waiting: A Fragile Covenant: Have Some Early Art

LINK HERE TO THE CHAPTER THAT IS NOT A REAL CHAPTER (be warned: it’s a 9500 word author’s apology about a fanfic on hiatus… Did I EVER say I wasn’t crazy?)

Coming maybe to a future near you: another drabble about Woon and the quantum fields of consciousness

Excerpt:

The first drawing is of Saet-byeol by my beautiful friend Peggy (have we known one another for almost 2 decades now?)

The second is a stunning drawing of Hye-won, in old shaman form and in young god of destiny form by the amazing writer Tepid_T . I KNOW! For the longest time, I didn’t know she was such a good artist either! I was really touched when she drew this for me. It was drawn over a year ago. 

And third, by my lovely iuiushi , a sketch of Dong-soo and Woon as chibis in drag!

10) WBDS fic recs

The above sketch was for a fic I never ended up writing, but you know who DID write a magnificent, funny, touching, and wonderfully adventurous fic with our boys in drag? Milliecake! It’s All the Queen’s Men and one of the joys of my fandom life.

It’s actually Part 2 of Some Like it Joseon

There’s another fandom fic I’d like to rec by a writer who recently appeared on the scene. Canon compliant, sad, but oh so well-written. Hits all the beautiful chords: The Moon is Crying by YumixYagi4ever

And if you missed the last short fanfic by Memory, you missed a masterpiece. It hasn’t received enough love. A story about Mi-so feeling misunderstood. She’s so ignored in canon, as are all the women characters. Of Course You Wouldn’t Know unravels delicately, bringing past, present, and future into a satisfying resolution for Mi-so and all lovers of good stories (this fic is one of my absolute faves in this fandom). The characterization of Auntie Jang-mi goes beyond her being the usual comedic foil who feeds everyone. Woon, who doesn’t speak much, is an accomplishment of characterization by just being there, and the ghosts of canon don’t hurt so much here; this story made me smile at the end. Read it.

This has been long enough. This is one of those a/n’s that’s going to make someone on R/fanfiction go “wtf” right? Whatever. This is a personal essay. Not exactly Michel de Montaigne but the personal essay is a literary genre–go ahead, report me.

I did some writing, eh?

#excuses excuses #MFA stories #I loved being a fanfiction writer #Dong-soo and Woon are my OTP of all time #mentions of sex and rape, not fictional sex and not fictional rape either, nothing graphic #I want to write again please help #grief is a bitch #did I mention dead babies? Mentioning them now. I think about dead babies all the time; I was obsessing about dead babies long before it was the fashion #I’m a Jewish mama #fic recommendations #some nice WBDS arts #and a prayer #apologies to the seculars out there but I’m the praying type #whenever I try to take the high ground, I find I’m not actually very high

[woonietune]

I've been ignoring this blog.

I've been physically hurt since January; my arm got a torn bicep and rotator cuff. Got some PT after being on a waiting list... I can type again. But the not being able to type didn't stop me from churning out a bunch of fic. A lot was posted, a lot wasn't posted.

Really hurt emotionally later.2023 came with a bag of dicks then turned apocalyptic. Country is middle of health crisis, shortage of medical providers, upsurge of hate crimes, Covid is back with new variants, and there's been crazy heat waves and indicators of climate weirdness everywhere. Oh, and mass shootings.

So I wrote this (have written two stories in this series and one since) and this is the sexy one so I thought people might like it the most.

Thought this would be short but no. It's been a difficult wk. Just a romance story. Maybe a little more than that.

Everyday We are Dying and Being Reborn

I don't recommend this Kdrama if you're in a bad place. There are some links for books re trauma recovery and a hotline ph # after this story, even though this is a soft story. I feel bad when people ask me where they can stream the source material because I've known some people to be upset by this drama for YEARS. I myself was finished and done writing fanfic, but the ending of this drama pissed me off so much I've spent 8 yrs now rewriting over that horrible last episode. Korea still leads industrialized nations in suicide; this drama gave us a romanticized, eroticized suicide in its last episode and presented it as an inevitable outcome. I've seen lots of violent and sad historical Korean dramas, but this one really made me rage. Seems like this year is the year for fresh rage. It's just the year for people to dismiss and sweep aside people with mental illness and obvious #CPTSD because they are too heavy a burden to bear and the onus falls on the good and blameless (and busy and clueless) members of society to help these people. The truth is people are scared of being dragged into madness with emotionally wounded people; the truth is there are too many traumatized people; the truth is that medical institutions are terribly ill equipped to treat ongoing trauma sufferers (the only source of ongoing trauma is NOT war), and too many people who were hurt terribly as children end up dead or in jail, wrecking their families and communities and finally, themselves, when, with a modicum of help, they might have contributed so much to so many. The cycles of abuse need to stop. We have the data. We need to stop it all.

[woonietune]

Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated, for I was only wiping countertops with my left hand and weeping into my collagen supplements, not being dissected by first-years at the medical school

Lots of catching up to do. I haven’t posted in a while. I got sick. I mean, I know I’m always getting sick, but this time I got so sick that I lost a lot of the use of my right hand. I couldn’t pick up one of my fluffy chickens without the owies--and I have a high pain threshold. I thought maybe I was having a stroke--or a bad case of hypochodria but once those things were ruled out, no one knew what it was. It wasn’t Covid. It wasn’t some weird autoimmune thingie (as of yet--I suspected that--but it wouldn’t be that). Maybe my allergies had evolved into some Godzilla version? I couldn’t sweep a broom across the porch. The inflammation was so bad I couldn’t wear my rings, and worst of all, I couldn’t type. 

I couldn’t get an appt with my PCP for three months (because this is the way things are in the USA in a state where Bobby Fuck U Jindal let five private insurers compete for Medicaid clients and basically set into motion the now standard Republican model of Let Disabled People Die Who Needs Them). Anyway, I did see a nurse practitioner who sent me to get x-rays in one hospital and to get bloodwork in another--and the results came back that there was nothing wrong with me. I was reporting pain 8/10 but was told to take Tylenol and that the doctor would see me in three months.

That was back in December? I don’t think I’ve gone ever without writing for 3 months. I paid out of pocket for some acupuncture (never had it before--it was cool beans) and got some relief; I adjusted my diet, already vegetarian to as sanctimonious a vegan, anti-inflammatory diet as I could manage, and I felt a little better. I used Google Voice to chat with fandom friends. Google Voice told of the adventures of Dog Food, the great warrior, and Wound, the former assassin of Cooks Up a Wrong, and I was miserable. I wanted to write. Writing was my only real down time. Without it, my brain was in the wilderness.

During my no-writing period, I had two ear infections, my therapist gave leave, the family got mild Covid infections (during which time my arm felt oddly better), and I knew instinctively I had to rest. I picked up a heavy detergent bottle and got the owies bad the next day, so I let the house go to hell. I spent a lot of time lying in a dusty room I couldn’t clean (this was before the maid from Hell--I’d never hired a maid before in my life, but when I did, whoever hexed me made it so I got one that made already made beds and put the flat sheets under the fitted sheets, didn’t wash the cleaning foam out of the bath-tub, left large swaths of rug unvacuumed, broke several little minatures--I superglued them back but STILL--and left the kitchen floors grimy and put an envelope marked IMPORTANT on the kitchen in a super secret place among a bunch of bookshelves), and I let my mind wander the way it had when I was twelve or so....

Why am I trapped in this consciousness? Why can’t I be in the mind of that person or that other person? Or why can’t assume the presence of a tree or a cloud? Why am I me? And did I choose to be me? And where am I going? 

Agnosticism on any issue was the default, and if I wasn’t writing, it wasn’t only my right hand that was hurting, it was my brain. It hurt from awareness.

The maid from Hell cleared away some of the dust in the house (not much), but mostly she kicked my head out of its dusty sophomoric philosophizing. I was so mad over her bad house-keeping that I got up and started to clean my own house with one hand. I didn’t do a bad job, and my disabled family helped, even if they did turn some white clothes pink in the wash. Nobody died. The house never had a chance to grow black mold. 

When the PCP appt finally rolled around, the doctor examined my arm this way and that and guess what? I had a torn bicep! She recommended physical therapy but there was a waiting list (of course). I went on YouTube to get some practice videos, and there were all these muscle guys who lifted weights there who’d torn their biceps. I don’t know how I’d injured myself, but I’m always doing things I’m not supposed to. I mean, besides picking up 40 lbs dogs. I overestimate my strength and think I’m stretchier and younger than I am. I haven’t done yoga since before the Pandemic, so I must’ve just thought my arm was a squeegee pole or something and strained to clean a cobweb in ceiling corner, who knows.

I was prescribed super antihistamines for my allergies, given meloxicam for pain (lol), and told to rest (lol lol lol). Eventually I could type a little; then I could type a little more; before I knew it I had written more than 100K words in less than a month in a little fandom mini-arc, and my fandom wife was busy whipping my crazy manuscripts into shape because my writing was as out of shape as I was. I’d lost 10 lbs when I’d caught that nasty stomach flu everyone was getting (and I mask and take hazmat-like protocols nearly everywhere because my greatest fear is infecting someone high risk--I’m only moderate-high--and killing that person--I know all kinds of very sick people). My wife was sick too, and I don’t know how she does it, but apparently she can find a backwards quotation mark with a fever 101 and point out a paragraph that needs “more” even if she’s been puking for days and can’t stand up in the shower.

Fandom people are crazy. But we love what we love.

And we love writing for our historically inaccurate historical dramas.

I’ve actually been typing too long already.

This was supposed to be a master post of fics I haven’t uploaded in the past few months.

I’m back in bed, not sick so much this time as overwhelmed by all things overwhelming, and I want to write, but at the same time I want to just lie here and cry.

This world is a terrible place. It’s been blasted with meteors and nuked several times over, and the blood of a million wars have seeped into it, and the Ice Age has come and gone, and here I am, wondering if I’ll get a chance to swim in the ocean again before I die or maybe catch a coffee with a friend or see my dad who can’t fly here because of his bad lungs. Does it matter if I have words? Or are words the greatest illusion of meaningfulness--they’re just blabbity, and they disintegrate into cyberspace just like that stuff--remember paper?--paper used to fall apart when we picked up hundred-year-old books that had gone untouched. 

Actions matter. What we model for our children matters. Decency and kindness, compassion and persistence. Charity and hope, all those things that sound like dull bells until they are live faces with stories in front on your own.

But I don’t get out much anymore. I’m scared of the outside. I don’t march anymore, and my family needs me at home. The animals need me to refresh their water, and the old cat needs me to cut his pills twice a day, and oh, some people need to get over this “don’t enable disabled people.” It’s not enabling a disabled person who has broken legs if you hold his crutches while he sits in a car to go to a doctor’s appointment. You don’t know all the circumstances. Parents of disabled children--well, many of them, research hard and try many things, advocate hard, make phonecalls every day and we thank you for your judgement very much. We live in fear every day that our children will die in the system when we’re gone. 

Some days I feel all I have are my words. These words that are nothing. These words that are my playing around. I was diagnosed with cataracts not long ago. I am afraid of going blind now. But some surgery in a few years, they say--I’ll be fine. I hope so. I may not be fine in other ways. I knew there was something wrong with my eyes. I have optical migraines. My fingers don’t move they way they used to. My brain feels young--younger than ever, maybe twelve, the age I was wondering why I couldn’t share consciousness with a fish in a pond. Later, maybe when the bipolar was kicking in, I felt that I did share consciousness with it. And who will tell me I am wrong? The world’s great religions--not just my own with it’s Sh’ma Yisrael, the World is One, but so many others, speak of the great inter-connectedness of things.

Are the words in the way, or are they little stepping stones? Or are they both?

I don’t like to touch or hug people very much because of childhood traumas. I save my hugs for my dearest ones and my animal companions, but I throw words around freely, like chicken feed. C’mon and get it... or let it settle and rot in the earth, along with the blood and paper and other forgotten things.

My time isn’t over. This blog will last until... there are new technologies. I thought Tik Tokers would be the new talkers, but it doesn’t seem to be the place. Novelists haven’t disappeared; neither have poets. And despite Elon, Disabled Twitter is still going strong. There’s no telling.

So I’ll keep telling. I still have secrets and untold things. And many pockets full of untold stories. More later. The little fictions (oh this last one is 12k... sorry. Whoever reads it gets a cookie. A pretty Korean one from the palace).

[woonietune]

#WBDS Merry Porn December

I was just informed that the 200th fic for Warrior Baek Dong-soo was posted on Archive of Our Own and that it just happened to be the first fic posted for our fandom’s #WBDSMERRYPORNDECEMBER. We’ve got three porny stories up now. One of mine isn’t very merry--it’s a little dark, but I promise fluff next week.

First,

All the Good Things

shalomdebbie

True Tags:

#drabbles #poem fic #sex drabbles #blow job #Dong-soo gives Woon a blow job after a long hard day #that’s it that’s the story #banter #Dong-soo talks to the cock #my beta made me do this #happy smut #established couple #BL #everyone is tired so let’s make December 2022 a pornfest #WBDS Merry Porn December

Summary:

A drabble poem fic about a blow job. Said blow job (which Woon deserves, along with everyone’s love) takes place the night after serious fic The Overdue Conversation in which Woon confessed some of his dark past to his Uncle Sa-mo. Then Sa-mo, Woon, and Dong-soo went on a friendly fishing trip, and now Woon is wiped out, and Dong-soo is sexually frustrated.

And also posted this week, a 22 drabble fic that’s kinda ... dark and depressing  piece by me. Next week, I’ll do something fluffier I promise. And my fandom wife has a really yum fun piece in the last stages of editing.

As if There's Enough of Me Left

shalomdebbie

True Tags:

#drabble-poem story #two assassins in a bad marriage #angst and whatever these two have left of love #the sex isn’t detailed but it’s a little bloody #note:the other yucky tagged pairings are only skimmed #a narcissist and his enabler draw in ink and play the gayageum #someone clearly made mistakes and ruined this relationship #hint: it wasn’t Ga-ok cheating with Gwang-taek on Chun although that didn’t help #swords lies and a hit list #TW: incest, murder, CSA

Summary:

22 drabble-poem story that takes place after a tiny scene in episode 15; in that snippet, the Sky Lord announces to the Earth Lord that the mission is finally over (by mission, he means that the girl with map of the Northern Expedition tattooed on her back and the book of war will soon be handed over by Yeo Woon to the Emperor of China). So now the Sky Lord can now go on his fantasy vacation of vanquishing Joseon’s greatest fighters! In these drabbles, the Earth Lord tells him goodbye in her own way.

Theirs is a weird relationship. I had fun writing this, even if I don’t like this pairing.

TW for canon and fanon things associated with a relationship that the WBDS script may have intended as beautiful in a tragic way, and yes, the relationship was tragic, but it was also cruel to others.

Any sad thing can be beautiful if it dies alone, but if a sick (the adjective we use nowadays is “toxic”) relationship hurts other people and leaves a legacy of deaths and regrets, it is no longer a beautiful story. (Yes, I’m judgy; judge me.)

Notes:

In canon, the Heuksa Chorong rule is that in order to become leader/Chun/Sky Lord, one must slay the previous Sky Lord. In canon, Chun killed Ga-ok’s father to become leader of Heuksa Chorong. The incest element of that story comes from my fanfic backstory for Chun: Do What You Want

This dark story was also written in the spirit of WBDS Merry Porn December. Thank you to thememoryofthatday my fandom wife and editor who had to read this story even though the prospect spooked her.

Goyeo , the most beautiful song in the Warrior Baek Dong-soo OST belongs to the older generation tragic love triangle; the parallel doesn’t hold for the younger generation even though the drama keeps suggesting it. The lyrics “wake me up, wake me up” in reference to the heart are haunting, though; the hearts in the second generation were not weary or asleep, and Woon’s heart only died when his body did.

OKIEEEE, DOKIEEE, that was a long enough entry. I was sick and busy and migraining for weeks, and the world was going to hell while people made Elon Musk jokes. I’m still on Twitter, but I may have to come over here to shit-post.

I’m a teensy bit nervous about the Chun piece, although no one but one fan in a blue moon ever went ballistic over my interpretation of Chun from the drama (he canonically murders and tortures and doesn’t show remorse--so he’s not exactly morally gray--just a jokey, good-looking, wine-guzzling entertaining baddie many fans love to love--AND THAT’S FINE BY ME). In much of my fic, I upgrade his badness. In this last one, I upgrade his woman’s badness. Now I like Ga-ok. She couldn’t escape Heuksa Chorong and didn’t try to; Woon tried. Both were victims, and it’s tempting to give both equal sympathy. I can’t.

I do know that the main reason she couldn't escape was that she was born into HC, rather than brought there like Woon--her victimhood goes a lot deeper. And remember my fic is based on fanon, which hands her MORE ABUSE, but also typically makes her a worse enabler--a pretty classic one (she’s checks all the boxes of an enabler in the drama, but in my fic, she’s extra).

I just can't get over her lies--”yes, I'll bring back Ji-sun alive” to Gwang-taek, “no she's off to Qing to die, nothing you can do” to Woon, and also to Woon: “Nope Woon, don’t even think about going back home--you're stuck here or I’ll hunt you down and kill you” And don’t forget, she tells Dong-soo that Ji-sun is dead. She, unlike Chun IS morally gray, not black. She struggles. She considers the consequences of her actions. She does good deeds (she saves her daughter--she saves Jin-gi’s life). She pleads with Gwang-taek to kill her but really, she KNOWS he can't--she knows him well enough, although maybe she knows that he needs to learn to kill bad people, and she, tragically, identifies as a bad person. Unlike Woon, who sometimes has glimmers of hope that he can redeem himself. He has Dong-soo.

Well, Ga-ok had Gwang-taek, but she spurned him and chose to stay in a house of blood, committing more harm; compare her actions to Woon--who tried to set free every last prisoner of Heuksa Chorong.

Still, she’s sexy, and she fights, and she’s one female character in a show FULL of men and their dicks swords who get all the script’s love and the camera’s attention. We learn more about Ga-ok than we do other women I want to know better in the drama. We get too much of her funeral, though. Damn, that was one long, weepy funeral. One would’ve thought the MC died.

But no, a woman was just fridged in order to give Chun and Gwang-taek a little more oomph to their last swordfight.

Excuse me while I go get some tea and calm down. It’s been one of those weeks. I need to write more PORN.  WRITING PORN ALWAYS MAKES ME FEEL BETTER. :)

[woonietune]

Art by KimJungGI

가족은 하나의 중요한 것이 아니다. 전부이다.

Family is not an important thing. It's everything. –Korean saying.

The Overdue Conversation   <---linky

shalomdebbie

True Tags:

#a confession story #Woon always expects rejection #drama #some fathers are bad and some families are found  #men trying to communicate #life is confusing #men crying #some humor and much much angst #TW: mentions of child abuse and oblique references to CSA #trauma and healing #Woon is getting it together–or is he?

Summary:

The time has come for Woon to tell his Uncle Sa-mo how Cho-sang, Woon’s father and Sa-mo’s blood brother, really died. There are other things that Sa-mo doesn’t know, some that Woon doesn’t know, and Woon is afraid the conversation may be a disaster. Soon, he is convinced that it has become exactly that–a total disaster. And that his exile from the family is a certainty.

For Salenna.

This is also dedicated to all those who have found weird families here and there; we are one.

Additional Notes:

Thank you, as always, to my amazing editor, friend, and fandom wife, thememoryofthatday.

Thank you, Milliecake for encouraging this fic. My fandom awes me. It’s so fun.

And wow, thank you Max_is_not_my_real_name for writing a poem that pokes fun at the WBDS fandom. I love it (and you): Some Puppets Deserve to Die .

And thank you everyone who loves Yeo Woon and is cheering for him. He needs all the hugs and kisses.

[woonietune]

Crushed Colorless Flowers <--linky

shalomdebbie

Summary:

Double-drabble poem. In Episode 24, after Dong-soo spares the Sky Lord and before Woon fights the Sky Lord to the death, there’s a peculiar and much talked about scene in which Woon rushes Dong-soo with a short blade; Dong-soo blocks the strike with the hilt of his sword, and the two embrace for a very, very long time. Woon is obviously angry, conflicted, going through some kind of identity crisis. I decided to get into his mind for this brief poem.

True Tags:

#double drabble poem #BL #this is romance because this was the most romantic scene #a little murdery but romantic #Heuksa Chorong law is that to become an assassin one must kill one’s dearest person #Woon actually never did that #Woon wants to kill the Sky Lord #Woon just wants a hug from Dong-soo #Woon is mad that Dong-soo didn’t kill the Sky Lord #Woon knows he’s tough on the outside all flowers on the inside #he basically gives himself as a sacrifice to Dong-soo here #he throws a rose at him like come kill me if you love me

Notes:

November is the cruelest month. I have so much stuff to do, so many doctor’s appts. We don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving; I can’t cook anyway, but I’m thankful for many things. Hope I can catch up on reading and writing. Thanks as always to my amazing beta and friend thememoryofthatday. Forgive me for tagging like Tumblr and meta-ing in comments like Live Journal. I'm old and still fond of my old fandom ways. Next up, a real narrative: Woon talks to Sa-mo, the conversation everyone needs, am I right? 

[woonietune]

Some Men Need to be Killed <---linky

shalomdebbie

Summary:

Addressing a long-dead Chun/Sky Lord in his head, Woon wonders about the circumstances that made him take up the sword, and if it’s true that some men need to be killed, what kind of men are the ones who need to kill them? Woon has yet another identity crisis, but this time he’s becoming kinder with himself. TWs for violence, mentions of child abuse, CSA, suicide attempts–what do you expect? This is Woon.

My beta said this isn't as dark as it appears to be from the tags, that's it's actually hopeful.

True Tags:

#Yeo Woon thinks about Chun #Yeo Woon thinks about killing #Yeo Woon thinks about living #Yeo Woon thinks about self-blame #Yeo Woon thinks assassins serve a purpose #Yeo Woon wonders what his own purpose is #violence #death #Buddhist nuns and prostitutes #BL #Yeo Woon loves Baek Dong-soo but not the same way he loved a Buddhist nun #TW: elliptical, vague reference to CSA #TW reference to child abuse #TW references to suicide attempt 

Notes:

I realize I’ve hit the jackpot in this tiny fandom this past year. So many people have started to write stories in English for WBDS. And I’ve made the best of friends. Not a day goes by that I don’t speak with Milliecake or the world’s best editor thememoryofthatday about Joseon hats or torture methods, about the backstories of unnamed redshirt Heuksa Chorong assassins, about arcane Chinese medical texts or ancient Japanese handcuffs. Thanks for the love and laughs, you two, and thank you to all my readers, even those who don’t comment a word, for making a rough year bearable and for giving Woon the love he needs. I needed some of that love too. Thank you, thank you very much.

ps:

I’m getting new glasses! Yey, the fandom wife won’t be correcting so many commas for periods. I have anemia as well as the beginnings of cataracts but am otherwise healthy as anyone else with trauma, overwork, and pre-existing mental illness during a Pandemic (what? you thought it was over---*laughs in Hong*) My current ear infection (labs all say “infection,” never COVID infection, have me unable to eat anything but popsickles and non-dairy ice cream. Everyone wants me to eat a cow. Woon wants me to eat a cow. I wouldn’t even eat Chun’s falcon if it was served on a gold plate (poor little Buttercup).

This is me not too long ago when I put on make-up and a dress to take a selfie to compare with my DL picture that day (actually DL pic looked ok--orange is my lucky color). Thiness is the illusion of health, and politeness tricks people into thinking you’re sane.

This is me today, going on 3 years of this Pandemic BS:

Oh one last thing! I have some delicious recs for you!!!!

The Accidental Sky Lord of Heuksa Chorong by my lovely Milliecakes

is another hilarious installment in her Love Days series. I snort-laughed all through this one. 

The next piece was dedictated to me, but mostly it was an act of coercision bc it got out to this friend I wouldn't write ANY MORE SMUT unless he wrote me a WBDS piece with horses in it (yes, I like horses--anything else?)

Four Hundred Thirty-five by Incubus2

And of course, I should mention a wonderful piece that made me think and think and think and actually think again about a character I dislike (Goo-hyang) by the fandom wife:

How Could You Not Know?

TW for canon dead!Woon, but it's such a good piece. 

Good news, I don't have leukemia, and I'm not going blind (yet), and my new glasses look a lot like my old glasses. Bad news, Elon Musk etc. But I am still writing--one more narrative piece to go (my therapist is looking forward to it, lol) and then I'll hop back on the longfic when I get my new glasses. I start EMDR this week, after Halloween and before my birthday. I have serious doubts that it will work. I think I need a shaman, but I've been unable to locate one.

[woonietune]

Look, Again  <--linky

shalomdebbie

Summary:

400 words, drabble-poems written as an offering for Yeo Woon’s jesa date, October 10. The setting is actually Chuseok, the Korean Thanksgiving, during which foods and drinks are joyfully consumed, and the dead are remembered.

Please enjoy the watercolor/gouache/digital fanart by my beloved friend Peggy. It was drawn for me and for Woonie’s jesa before this piece was written and helped me write when I felt very sad about the whole world.

True Tags:

#drabbles #drabble poems #actually three and two half-drabbles #it’s like the tradition to have half-mooncakes #a little bit of Schrodinger’s Woonie again #look where did he go? #family #not everything is black and white #Dong-soo brings Woon back #this will always be a BL story #k-drama #metaverse drama maybe #if you have to measure your days measure them in love.

Notes:

A jesa is a Korean ritual memorial service for the dead, usually observed with food offerings, wine, and incense. It is observed on some holidays like Chuseok and on the anniversary of the death of an individual. In the drama Warrior Baek Dong-soo, many watched on television as Yeo Woon died by suicide on October 10, 2011. Fandom considers that date his jesa date.

This work plays off my series of drabble poems in which Woon reintegrates into society called Look at Me

Thank you to thememoryofthatday for being the best fandom wife in the history of all fandoms ever.

Thank you to my dear, longtime friend Peggy Calvimonte for the beautiful watercolor/gouache/digital painting for this piece.

Last years jesa offering for Yeo Woon included my own inferior illustrations here: October Poems

Happy to hear from my war correspondent friend Fariard in Ukraine, amused to report that Dagger is now stealing toothbrushes and I have to baby-proof the bathroom, and pleased to announce that the summer bugs of Louisiana are gone (and now here come the fall spiders).

[woonietune]

I Want to Make Certain You Love Sunsets <---Linky

shalomdebbie

Summary:

I’m sorry this is long, but so is Dong-soo’s penis. Some people like long dick–I mean fic. This story, a late birthday gift for my fandom wife, was inspired by her saying she believed that Woon liked sunsets. So this story tells you why he does. And what is he going to do about Dong-soo disliking them?

For thememoryofthatday.

True tags:

#Explicit sex #romantic sex #that damned wheat field again #canon reliant and canon convergent and sex in the field #you heard me SEX IN THE FIELD #angst #humor #hurt/comfort #top!Woon #Dong-soo has a brain #more than BL #trauma wheelhouse #K-DRAMATIC #who is the magnificent sun? #TW: suicide mentions all up in this so please avoid if you are bothered or triggered by suicide themes #I gave my wife a suicide rescue and sex fic #what did you do for yours? #be kind to one another it’s a cruel world

Notes:

Thank you to my long-ago friend Lily who came up with the idea of Dong-soo catching Woon in the field; I said “Hey! Brilliant! I’m going to write that!”  I wrote it first in If You Lie With Me and then in subsequent tales. It’s fanon now. :) The fanon burning of Heuksa Chorong was first introduced in that fic, and I explored the story of Goo-hyang’s suicide in A Bride Accepts a Silver Knife. The amazing abilities of the horsie from Heuksa Chorong are based on a fic my fandom wife wrote for me on our 1st year anniversary: Rare Kindness , a WBDS story from a horsie POV.

My fandom wife is responsible for all that’s good in my current works, and any errors in style, punctuation or characterization are mine. I’ve worked with professional editors in the past, and she’s better than all of them. She’s better than sliced bread. Hell, she’s better than bagels. There, I said it.

Oct. 10 is Woonie's jesa date. I vaguely remember writing something in advance for it, and Peggy did this amazing art. Wife has something too. <3

I was sick all week. No Covid yet! But I can barely see keyboard as I type, and wooooooh, I am not supposed to take cough syrup with my meds. Makes for interesting experiences sometimes but so far just tinnitus this time. Naptime. The cats are purring on me, and the goldfish and chickens are still alive so I am not worried..  well, except planet earth is doomed. More dire news later. And porn.

[woonietune]

An Unknown Signal  <---linky

shalomdebbie

Summary:

Poem written when I saw this screencap. It seemed my OTP was on the same page; things felt symmetrical, and repetition was relevant, repetition was relevant. This is the moment before they were discovered by Hong Sa-hye.

True tags:

#drabble-poem #formless rhyming poem #canon #k-drama #BL #yearning yearning

Note:

Thank you to the fandom wife thememoryofthatday for being a fandom therapist too.

Why, yes, I am having sort of a mental health crisis. It's not me, actually. It's the government.

Never mind me; I'm still a little woozy from the Covid Bivalent Booster and from my disabled daughter being illegally denied the FREE shot because her Medicaid card didn't go through (a common blip). We were there forever--until philosophy!husband whispered to head pharmacist that he was going to call news outlets and asked them if they wanted to be known as that pharmacy who turned away a disabled child from getting her Covid booster. She got the shot.

Later we found out this happens with Walgreen's. A lot.

Now I have to deal with the incompetent people at Medicaid. Called them from the pharmacy--they had no clue what was going on. Usually takes hours on the phone with anyone to get services, the simplest needs taken care of for disabled family members.

I start EMDR in November. Insurance finally convers it. I wonder if it will work. I would prefer having my memory erased. Even if it means I can't write bad poems anymore.

[woonietune]

I just want to drink and forget him, but I want to see him again. So, I pour another bowl. I want to forget him after that drink, but I want to see him again, so I have to pour another bowl. --Baek Dong-soo, episode 29.

Let Me Die in Your Arms  <---linky

shalomdebbie

Summary:

Perfectly canon-compliant, post-canon one-shot in which Dong-soo is drinking and hallucinating Woon in place of his betrothed, Ji-sun. His mourning and trauma help him uncover his true feelings. Warrior Baek Dong-soo did not have a happy ending; I felt compelled to write this one as my fandom wife was researching and summarizing the final episode for her lovely, amusing WBDS: the Episode Guide. TW: eroticized suicide–not sorry–canon went there first.

True tags:

#canon compliant #post canon #blow that last ep up with a cannon and get back to me #angst angst angst #Dong-soo gets drunk #Woon is very dead #let’s figure this one out with Dong-soo #tw: eroticized suicide–not sorry–canon went there first #tw: alcoholism and other bad coping skills #tw: poetic writing

Notes:

Thank you to my fandom wife for beta-work and for holding my hand through all WBDS trauma.

I was recently going over the gobs and gobs of my fic from the past years for this series and realizing how much of it repeats themes, images, and phrases like someone in a stage of obsessive mourning. I’ve always maintained that repetition is relevant, repetition is relevant. Processing grief means seeing it through different perspectives, but the initial horror never quite loses its impact; to lose it would mean amnesia; to lose it would mean to abandon self-growth and to embrace a living death. Dong-soo would not have survived episode 29 without the trauma of his dearest person dying against him being an endless echo in his head, a constantly reverberating experience.

If you are having thought of self-harm or suicide, please call 988 in the United States or call a suicide hotline in your country. Suicide is preventable; people can and do heal.

For the record, in general, I reject romanticization of suicide, especially eroticization of suicide. This story was written as a rejection, albeit one that touches on delicate issues. The ending of WBDS hit me as all kinds of no no no when I first saw it. I realize my viewing will always be informed by my modern Western feminism, my issues as an abuse survivor, a suicide survivor, and as a queer, but much of fandom worldwide relishes the romantic aspects of the WBDS suicide. That’s fine. Everyone’s voice is their own. I’ve always believed, too, that queers should reclaim the Bury Your Gays trope not only by writing happy endings but by writing their own Bury Your Gays stories. FWIW, I love this FMV, Life is a Dream. (TW: it shows the romantic suicide in extra prettiness.) I want to embrace the melancholy prettiness too, you see, while acknowledging the more terrible parts.

And also fwiw, a song from Woon’s POV was playing in my head when I thought of this very sad story. Peculiar, it’s a lovely love song, and I love this arrangement of it by the Petersons.

[woonietune]

Dong-soo: Now we might really die.

Woon: Then let’s die together.

Dong-soo: At the wrong palace? What happens if we die at the wrong palace? Shouldn’t

we find the right palace?

Woon: Any palace would be the wrong palace. 

Dong-soo: Then let’s live together?

Woon: Yes, let’s live together forever.

Dong-soo: …

Woon: What?

Dong-soo: Let’s get out of here fast. I heard Debbie say something about how you don’t want to hear her get started about post-structuralism… and ethical relativism?

Woon: Don’t get me started about her getting started. Let’s go.

The Wrong Palace <---linky to drabble-poems

shalomdebbie

Summary:

I recently found out that the action in the historical K-drama Warrior Baek Dong-soo takes place in the wrong palace. The palace where the WBDS characters (some based, albeit loosely, on historical people) are running around is Gyeongbokgung. A beloved landmark in Korea nowadays, Gyeongbokgung was burned down by the Japanese before the events of WBDS and not rebuilt until a century later. The drama, historically, should have taken place in another palace, Changdeokgung.

This information hit me like one of Yeo Woon’s non-lethal stabs. I expected to spring to the land of the conscious and rational soon enough, but like a punctured Cho-rip, I tasted bitterness; I was stricken with a desire to report a crime to a higher authority: How can creators be so negligent? Or might not some creators, like capricious gods, put people in the wrong palace <i>on purpose?</i> Towards what end?

I started to think about history, timelines, fanfiction, interpretation of authorial intent, but before my brain could short-circuit, what usually happens when I’m overthinking happened: I wrote some drabble-poems. So, they were fighting in the wrong palace. Where should they be? Where is the palace I am looking for?

True Tags:

#drabbles #drabble poems #meta #a multiverse k-drama #no fair playing Schrodinger’s Woonie #korean producers and writers borked korean history #one expects that in korean historical drama but dayum #the action takes place in the wrong palace #you heard me the wrong palace #with my own ears I heard Gak and Yi San and Hong talking about a building that didn’t exist in Changdeokgung #I admit the tension between historical canon and drama canon is no biggie in fanfic #the UST between Dong-soo and Woon is what’s important #I’ve done lost my damn mind #reality is just a concept #my mind-palace can only hold so much meta until it’s time to call the cleaners #my mind-palace can only hold so much meta until it’s time to call the cleaners #but BL! #romantic hand-holding I can’t help it

—-----

Dedicated with love to Milliecake, who first noted the wrong palace evidence, and to my fandom wife, thememoryofthatday, who with Millie, got me through my 19th WBDS mental breakdown while I was repeating for days on end–THEY’RE AT THE WRONG PALACE? THEY’RE AT THE WRONG PALACE? I love being lost in meta with the both of you. Wherever we go, there we are. Wrong palace or not.

—------

Notes:

If you cannot protect me, take me with you, the final line of drabble-poem 6 is from a song in the WBDS OST called Goyeo (which means “to well up,” as in “tears well up in my eyes”).

Mentions of the North Star and of Woon taking Dong-soo’s hand in drabble 7 are references to a novelization of WBDS co-authored by the drama’s screenwriter. The book came out as the series was airing on Korean television; in the drama, Woon dies; in the book, Woon takes Dong-soo’s hand, and the two run, chasing the North Star (and no, it’s not a metaphor for them dying together; they are perfectly alive). So, you see, this tiny franchise does play Schrodinger’s Woon; fic writers are free to build and destroy as many palaces as they want. Carry on, my lovelies.

In drabble 9, I took liberties with the last line which is drama canon, episode 21. The accurate translation, from my sister whose Chinese is better than my Korean, is from the word kwaedonanma, which means “quick sword cuts through tangled hemp.”

More notes if you can stand them (or, the above drabble-poems were brought to you by the mental breakdown below):

My fandom wife, thememoryofthatday, while editing episode 28 of her wonderful, funny opus that has to be seen to be loved, Warrior Baek Dong Soo: The Episode Guide, asked me, as she occasionally does, to spot some Korean that seemed off in the translations. The credit for noticing what was “off,” though, goes to our clever friend Milliecake.  Kudos to her for paying close attention to the spoken Korean; I am always finding myself distracted by Ji Chang Wook’s shoulders to notice obvious things like, haha, Cho-rip’s glasses have no lenses. (Millie really watches the damn drama… except for ep 29; she hasn’t seen the notorious last episode yet because she’s smarter than I am and knows not to subject herself to such nonsense).

Sure enough, what was being subtitled as “king’s residence” was being pronounced as “Gangnyeongjeon,” over and over, by different characters. Heard it with my own ears: Gangnyeongjeon. But Gangnyeongjeon is the name of the building in a palace, Gyeongbokgung, that was supposed to have been burned down during the drama’s events. The palace of Baek Dong-soo’s time was Changdeokgung, and there, the king’s residence went by another name altogether.

Ok, no biggie, historical dramas are a kind of fanfiction: they are expected to change some things drastically (in WBDS’ case, Crown Prince Sado is more or less a good guy, more of a zealot, only known to history as a madman because his enemies started that rumor), and sageuk always make mistakes (my fave in WBDS is an anachronistic handshake in an early episode). But the wrong palace?

It would have been easy enough for the drama creators to not misname buildings and to just use the proper place for the setting; the outdoor palace scenes are not recognizably one palace or another… except the main entrance gates? When the baddies enter the main gates at the start of the coup, those gates may have been the Gyeongbokgung gates, and many dramas are indeed filmed at Gyeongbokgung. Was the whole drama placed at Gyeongbokgung instead of Changdeokgung just so the coup invasion would look bitchin’ cool? 

Oh, I knew which scenes were filmed in Hwaseong Fortress in Suwon (a palace not even built at the time of the drama’s events) because I’m an obsessive fan like that. Hwaseong Fortress is a good set; it’s just a setting; it’s generic palace-looking. So is most of Gyeongbokgung, the burned down palace, where many sageuk are filmed, but why why why specify in the script that the action is happening in the wrong palace? I love to call WBDS the stupidest sageuk ever, but that’s just an affectionate endearment for it. I’ve watched worse. (Many bad sageuk are highly enjoyable; ask me for recs!)

How stupid is this drama, though? Did some mischievous set assistant put josam in everyone’s ginseng power drinks so that the producers and writers were suffering allergic reactions and forgetting basic Korean history that a Westerner like me needs to learn from a Wiki page? 

I went around traumatized for a while. They’re in the wrong palace. They’re in the wrong palace. Not that there always hasn’t been a tension between historical canon and drama canon when historical fic writers take up the pen, and not that I haven’t made myself all kinds of crazy enough over my own boo-boos in my WBDS fanfics; I’ve made continuity errors, historical errors–hell, for one whole day I had posted for all to read that Gwang-taek clasped his hands together at a point in the drama when he’d already lost one arm! I’ve mixed up transliteration systems and shoe-horned modern elements into stories… that’s all part of the game. 

But the WBDS plot is famous for not having an easily identifiable game. Or for being a plot-hole ridden, sorry-ass mess of a game with some nice scenery, pretty fights, a haunting OST, and no consistent rules to its game. (Or even worse, for being a troll script with no game at all.) What’s your game, WBDS? Mostly, the script’s game seems to be one of teasing the audience as to which way the plot will run. Can you find the plot? Is it what you expect? WBDS is your average old-time sageuk, and yet again, it isn’t. You’ll recognize a scheming queen and the noble peasants, the vague nods to real historical figures, beheadings after said nods, too convenient plot coincidences that are the K-drama standard, and stereotypes the whole world knows–like the sad-eyed prostitute who understands the anti-hero. Then the predictable plot will pull the rug out from under itself, but not in a satisfyingly trope-defying way; it will trip on its own tropes and look… well, stupid.

It’s a fighting-fixes-everything-except-when-it-doesn’t plot; it's a the-hero-never-kisses-a-girl-because-fighting-is-more-important-plot; is it a bromance-coded-as- BL-plot? It’s a coming-of-age plot, but the hero doesn’t learn from his mistakes, and by the last frames, he looks like a washed out mouthpiece for a martial arts philosophy (AAAH, THE LIVING SWORD–what Shaolin blabbity is that anyway?) that the story never sold us as integral to a well-lived life. The plot tells us that evil is everywhere and bad guys finish last, but good guys are bad guys too; ergo, everybody loses; the plot gives promising bad-ass women and then rewards misogynist stereotypes; the plot shows women in a Confucian time period seen through the lens of 2011 prime-time conservative Korean television, and as much as I love so much of the series and the actors, I just hate that the drama so often sacrifices consistency and common sense for what looks good on the screen.

Everyone is at the wrong palace.

I write a lot of fix-it fic for this drama. Are all the palaces wrong? Are some more right than others? What is art? Who is Yeo Woon, really? Who am I? Point me to the right palace.

Yi San has my expression (gif by Milliecake)

And hey, is this where Dong-soo and Woon ended up? In my canon, as everyone knows, Woon is a cookie.

[woonietune]

I'll Never Get Tired of You <---linky

shalomdebbie

Summary:

Whose turn is it now? My beta insisted I continue this BDE series, so here we go. Dagger time. 13 drabble-poems with so much romance that… even in the dark, Woon is a little embarrassed.

True Tags:

#drabbles #drabble-poems #sex erotica M/M BL charming the snakes and saucing the sausages #established relationship #how many times already tonight? these boys have stamina #anal #rimming #top!Woon but only for a moment then he gets to power-bottom #Woon POV #Dong-soo talks a lot #Woon thinks a lot #romance #they’re so in love #snarky romantic swordsmen in crazy love 

Notes:

Jal ja means “good night”.  

Thank you to Milliecake for inadvertently inspiring this when she said I can write the boys swinging from chandeliers with nary a blush. I have no shame, true. I got a swingy!Woon idea.

Thank you to thememoryofthatday who is the fandom wife I don’t deserve. She’s the best writer and friend.

Sometimes the world is impossibly unfathomable, ridiculous, and heart-breaking, like the last episode of WBDS. Sometimes it is all kinds of bad but amusing too, like the episode of Gilligan’s Island where the castaways performed a musical version of Hamlet. I am like all of you, someone who is dying on this earth. Doubt truth to be a liar, but never doubt I love. (Act II, scene 2). Thank you, all my fellow fic lovers, for talking cock with me.

-----

Oh, ha. I  just told a fellow writer I was distracted by all the cocks in his last chapter. Yeah, I know. I surprised myself. I said I think I have a two cock limit and wondered if there was a name for that condition. He said, “lesbianism.”

Guilty as charged?

[woonietune]

Nobody Wants to Feel That <--linky

shalomdebbie

Summary:

Dong-soo and Woon are vacationing from the martial arts school at Sa-mo’s house; their plan is to train the girls in swordsmanship and enjoy Jang-mi’s cooking, but a simple comment from Sa-mo at breakfast sets Woon off on a trauma spiral of doubt. Woon had believed he was finding his place in the world, but maybe that place is always going to be half-in-shadows.

Real tags:

#angst #humor too bc you know me #Woon is Woon #it’s impossible to be quiet all your life #nobody knows everything about anyone #trauma issues and trauma recovery #Dong-soo needs a medal: Best PTSD therapist in Joseon #I would put Jin-joo in the running for that title too but that’s another story #who would really believe Woon killed Cho-sang? #calm down Woonie it’s going to be ok #BL BTDT #hey Woon this is getting to be an old story #you want it to be old and gone BB #but nightmares persist #and love persists too #roses mean love #pancakes mean love

Thank you to thememoryoftheday for helping me think about characterization and history more than ever. Thank you to her for reminding me that Woon calls Sa-mo “Uncle” and that Dong-soo addresses him as “Sa-mo” (and there were a few instances where we recalled them calling him “Teacher” and “Captain.”)  And thank you to her and Milliecake for not only putting up with trauma!Woon but with trauma!Debbie who worries so much about trauma!Woon, and yes, thank you both for encouraging my scatterbrain to organize my various scribbles into series. You two will have to remind me how to put this one into the Flowers series because I am such a dumb-dumb I can never get anything to work for me on this site, not even html or voodoo.

And thank you to those who have been reading and leaving comments on Waiting for the Past. I don’t deserve your kindnesses; I do promise to update. In the meantime, here are more little one-shots and (tomorrow and tomorrow?) sexy drabbles.

[woonietune]

Hyungnim, Where Were We? <--linky

shalomdebbie

Omg, I wrote something not homosexual. Or even romantic. And it’s not a fight scene. Maybe it’s Heuk Sa-mo vs Buddhism. I had some questions. I figured Sa-mo would as well.

Summary:

On the anniversary of Kim Gwang-taek’s death, Heuk Sa-mo throws a Confucian jesa for his Buddhist blood-brother, drinks makgeolli, and talks to him about the differences between their generation and the next. Did the blood-brothers fail the young ones? Did Gwang-taek fail the blood-brothers? Can Sa-mo face that possibility?

True Tags

#character study #dramatic soliloquy #an unreliable narrator may be the most reliable person all Hangyang #father issues #uncle issues #brother issues #daughter issues #the patriarchy oh my! #sometimes filial piety is just an ideal #so what’s the deal with marriage–Sa-mo wants to know! #Gwang-taek wasn’t a saint and everyone knows it even if they don’t say it #absent dads and absent moms make for fascinating stories but children who almost die #Woon didn’t die–HE ALMOST DID! #men who love one another–it’s a thing #not homosexual oh my!

Thank you as always to thememoryofthatday without whom these stories could not be written. She’s a wonderful editor and inspiration.

[woonietune]

Every Soft Growl in the Forest

shalomdebbie

Summary:

Continuing with the Flowers timeline in which Woon and Dong-soo teach at a martial arts school, the times seem settled and peaceful, but something happens, and our pair have to consider their mortality again. TW: very brief mention of suicide attempts. Read more about In-su in Petals Fly.

True Tags:

#Woon is angst #humor of course #Dong-soo can’t remember Gwang-taek’s Buddhism because Dong-soo is a good student #what is the sound of Dong-soo thinking? #BL in which everyone crushes on Woon #does your husband worry about every little thing? #pillow-talk #snuggles #every little thing adds up to the whole thing #romance #sometimes schoolboys are little shits sometimes they aren’t #In-su needs a spin-off show #thoughts about dying #tw: very brief mention of suicide attempts #spoiler: WOON LIVES who do you think I am?

Thank you to my other pair of eyes, thememoryofthatday and to my greatest teacher, my daughter, Sophia.