#happy wip wednesday i am not writing rn

[grittyreadsfic]

hi besties what’s up tell me about ur fics ur working on

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

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

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. mild thematic elements. angst galore. reader is sick. minho is a soft and doting bf. reader has a fainting scare/high temp/migraine. slight possessive behavior from minho (but in a cute and soft way, i promise!!). pet names (affectionately). cuteness overload.

word count: 8.3k

summary: it's the dead of winter when you suddenly come down with a bad case of the flu. and your doting boyfriend minho is more than happy and willing to help you through the pain.

a/n: yes, i am fully on the brainwashing and brainrotting train that is writing minho out to be a soft, caring bf. don't come for me, it's one of the only pleasures in my life rn!! i wrote this in one sitting (and yes, most of the content in here is based off of my own experience with the flu this past year), so it might be horrible or really amazing. lmk what ya'll think and if you'd like more of this content from me! :))

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

The first symptom of the flu to come upon you was a sore throat. It happened just after you and Minho had finished eating dinner - since it was a Wednesday night, Chinese takeout had been on the menu. 

 You were laying in bed, already cozied up in your pajamas and snuggled under the thick coverlets, reading one of the winter-themed books that you had recently checked out at your local library. When, all of a sudden, your throat started to feel scratchy. Every few minutes, you kept reaching over to your nightstand table to take a sip from the glass of water that you always kept there. 

 Just then Minho came out of the master bedroom’s adjoining bathroom, clad in the black sweatpants that he always wore to bed. He was shirtless since his hot-blooded self could never fall asleep if he had too many clothes on. You got a clear view of his chiseled chest muscles and sinewy biceps as he padded over to you with his slippers on and gave your forehead a gentle kiss. 

 When he pulled away from you and saw the discomfort that was evident in the way your brows were furrowed together, he frowned slightly. “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, tucking a few strands of your loose hair behind your ear as he peered down at you with those sparkly, expressive doe-eyes of his. 

 “I don’t know, my throat hurts all of a sudden.” You said, swallowing over the painful scratch in your mouth. 

 “Did you drink some water?” 

 “Yeah, but it’s not helping…” 

 “Let me make you some warm tea, then,” your boyfriend reached down and tenderly squeezed your forearm with a tiny smile stretching across his lips. “Surely that will help you feel better.” 

 “But- Min, it’s too late, you worked so much today… it’s okay, I can make it,” you protested, catching hold of his wrist and stopping him from leaving your side. You looked up at him with pleading eyes, even as your throat was screaming at you for something warm. 

 “It’s okay, kitten. Making the tea will only take a few minutes, and then I’ll be right back in bed with you.” Just then he bent into you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before pulling away and ruffling some of your hair with a wide grin on his face. “Wanna help you, baby, hmm?” 

 And how could you deny that face? Those words? So, you released your grasp over him and watched him flood from the bedroom. Not a minute later you heard rummaging in the kitchen, as your loving boyfriend began to prepare a cup of tea for you. 

 In his absence, you tried - and failed - to get comfortable in bed again. Your book was long forgotten on your nightstand, and your throat had gotten so progressively worse over a few minutes that swallowing was starting to hurt. 

 Just when you thought you couldn’t take waiting any longer, Minho walked through your bedroom door with a huge, steaming mug in his hands. “It’s lemon-chamomile flavour… I added some honey for extra comfort, too.” He said as he placed it into your outstretched palms. 

 “Thank you, baby- don’t deserve you.” You mumbled in a quiet voice, offering him a tiny smile. 

 “Does it hurt to talk?” He asked as he turned off the lamp on your nightstand before rounding the bed and joining you on his side. He got comfortable underneath the thick duvet before switching off the last remaining light in the bedroom. 

 Everything was thrown into darkness around you, and for a moment, you were disoriented. But then you felt a familiar hand reach over to you and grasp one of your free hands, squeezing slightly, and you relaxed into your pillows. 

 “Yeah, kinda…” Your voice trailed off into the night as you took a sip of the tea. It was piping hot, but even still, felt amazing as it went down. You could already feel the chamomile and honey concoction soothing your discomfort away. “This tastes amazing, Min. Thank you.” 

 Minho snuggled deeper into the covers, shivering a few times from the chill in the air. It was the dead of winter and even with the heat blasting throughout your shared apartment, your place always seemed to have a cold draft traveling between the few rooms. “I’m glad you like it.” Your boyfriend’s voice was heavy, indicating that he was truly exhausted. 

 You leaned over to him and carded a few fingers through his dark, chestnut-brown hair. “Now, go to sleep, you workaholic. You’ve got a jam-packed schedule for the rest of the week.” You said into the quiet that had suddenly fallen over the bedroom. 

 Your words suddenly had Minho groaning into his pillow, “Don’t even fucking remind me about tomorrow’s schedule- it’s gonna be hell, for sure,” he began in that deep voice of his that would always come out late at night. You had told him many times in the past that you loved the sound of it, to which he cockily said that he’d try to stay up later with you so that way you could hear it more and gush over how sexy he sounded. Secretly, he loved the praise… a little too much, if you were truly honest with yourself. “You’ll be okay to go to bed?” He suddenly asked, bringing you out of your reverie of thought on his sultry ‘night voice.’

 “Just fine,” you whispered, snuggling down under the sheets. You could already feel the heat that was radiating off of Minho’s body, as he slowly warmed the two of you up just with his hot-blooded self alone. 

 “Okay, then… goodnight, my baby. Feel better in the morning, yeah?” 

 “Goodnight Min. And sure, I’ll try to.” You replied in a quiet voice. 

 And then there was no reply from your boyfriend, as he swiftly drifted off to dreamland. After you had finished your tea, you snuggled up against him, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and pressing your back against his inviting, bare chest. The chamomile had helped immensely to take the ache in your throat away, and in no time at all, you were joining Minho in dreamland.

 When you woke up the next day, your throat hurt like a bitch. You had thought that the night before had been bad, but nothing compared to how dry and scratchy it felt so early in the morning. 

 Turning over on your side with a groan, you cracked your eyes open against the bright light shining through from the bedroom’s large bay window. You noticed how Minho’s space was already empty. You shifted a palm across his pillow, noting the coldness of the satin fabric. 

 Stumbling out of bed a few minutes later, you realized how quiet the apartment was. With a glance at the nearby clock on your nightstand, the time read just past seven in the morning. Minho was already long gone.

 Since your sore throat had only gotten worse overnight, you deemed yourself unfit to go to work that day. So after having called up your manager and telling her that you had to take a sick day, you slowly got ready for the day. The hot shower worked somewhat in relieving your throat pain, but not by much. And by the time you had dried your hair, brushed your teeth, and thrown on some comfy sweats and one of the many hoodies that you had stolen from Minho throughout your relationship, a spilling migraine had begun to bloom across your temples. 

 “Just my luck…” You mumbled to yourself as you made your way into the kitchen. With a glance around the adjacent living room/dining room, you noticed how the apartment looked more tidy than usual. Your boyfriend must’ve cleaned the place before he left early that morning. The thought of him picking up because you didn’t feel well left a wide smile on your face as your trudged to the fridge. 

 Having opened the thing, you noticed a huge soup pot that was covered with a lit, sitting on the middle shelf. A note was attached to the top of it, and it read, 

 Baby, 

 Made some rice porridge for you this morning. Didn’t have time to wake you up to tell you, so only kissed you goodbye. Text me after you’re finished eating- I haven’t made the recipe in a while and want to know how I did. 

 Love you, and hope you feel better, 

 - Min XX 

 You felt the emotions rising inside of you as you read the small note again, and soon, your eyes were turning watery from unshed tears. He truly was the best boyfriend ever. Minho was the type of guy who liked to share his love for you in actions. He loved cooking for you and cleaning for you. But over time, since you two had started dating, he had slowly become more expressive with his feelings through words as well. It was a nice change that you gladly welcomed and it made your heart all fuzzy to know that he was trying to be a better lover for you alone. 

 In no time at all, you had heated a portion of rice porridge for yourself. It was chock full of tender, flavourful chicken, and tons of veggies - like carrots, mushrooms, and even zucchini. You drizzled some fish sauce and soy sauce on top of it and used the chopped-up scallions that Minho had left for you to garnish the porridge. 

 You took a picture to send to your boyfriend before you dug into the meal. And instantly, you felt so much better. The heat of the porridge slid down your throat and coated your insides with a fuzzy, comforting feeling. It was so very delectable and you finished it in just a few minutes. After you were done eating, you made sure to take some ibuprofen that you had on hand to try and combat the splitting migraine that was upon you. 

 Sending the picture you had taken earlier of your meal, you quickly texted Minho.

Min Today 10:03

Me: Just had the porridge… WHY have you never made this for me before?! It was amazing!! 

 Within a minute, he texted back. 

Min: Wow, I had no idea you’d like it that much, I’ll have to make it again. It makes me happy to hear that you enjoyed it. :) Did it help with your sore throat? You looked to be in discomfort when I left this morning… 

Me: Yes! The porridge really soothed me, I feel better already! 

Min: Ok, I’m glad then :) You took off work today, right? 

Me: I mean, yeah, since I can barely talk :( 

Min: Awe baby :( I’m so sorry. Just rest today, I’ll try to be home earlier than I was last night. 

Me: I’ll just be laying in bed all day haha… and ok, have a good day at work! Love you <3

Min: Love you too <;33

 Staring at the bright screen of your phone was only making your headache worse, so you turned it off and trekked back to your bed. The exhaustion hit you as soon as your back hit the soft mattress, and halfway through the comfort movie you had turned on on the tv, you were already drifting off to sleep. 

 Late that same night, the fever started. At first, your cheeks were just flushed, which could happen from time to time. But then, the back of your neck started to feel warm too. And soon, it felt like your entire body had been doused in a scorching hot pit of lava. 

 Keeping to his word, Minho arrived home an entire hour earlier than the night before. When he walked through the apartment’s front door at eleven with both hands full of groceries, you immediately stood up from the living room couch to help him unpack. 

 “No, no- I’ve got it. Go sit back down,” he insisted, trying to shoo you away with his hand as he placed the many bags atop the kitchen counter. 

 You peeked into one of them and saw a huge box of multi-flavoured popsicles. “What’s all this for?” You mumbled in a weak voice. 

 “You, my dear… want to cook some good meals to help you feel better,” Minho said, turning you towards him so that he could get a good look at your face. When he noticed the deep crimson flush that stretched across your cheeks and traveled down to the part of your next that was exposed from your - formerly his - baggy hoodie, his brows furrowed. “Baby, do you feel warm?” The light in his eyes flashed with concern as he gently pressed a hand against your cheek and forehead. 

 “Y-yeah, a little…” 

 “You’re burning up,” Minho said, voice a little panicked as he led you back over to the living room couch, the groceries suddenly forgotten. You had only ever gotten a fever once before in all the time that you two had been dating, and it hadn’t been all that bad, to begin with. And it sure as hell hadn’t made you feel as hot as you did just then. “Here, let me get the thermometer.” 

 Then he was gone from your side and rushing into your bedroom, in search of the only thermometer you kept on hand. Resting against the couch, you tried to focus on anything else but the soreness in your throat and the heat that flooded through your veins just then. The headache had come back with a vengeance a little earlier that night, the ibuprofen wearing off fairly quickly. Much to your demise.  

 Minho was beside you again a few minutes later, thermometer in hand. “Baby, open for me,” he instructed, and you opened your mouth slightly so that he could slide the small thing under your tongue. The metal felt cold against your teeth, and time seemed to pass by agonizingly slowly, as you two sat there on the couch and waited for the reading. When it finally beeped loudly, Minho took it out and inspected it. “Nighty-nine-point-eight. You’ve definitely got a fever.” 

 You closed your eyes then, resting an arm across your eyes and groaning into the crook of your elbow. Even your eyelids felt hot. “Fuck- I’ll have to take off more sick days from work. I really can’t afford to do that-”

 “Kitten, I think that’s the least of your worries right now,” your boyfriend said softly just beside you. You felt his hand wrap around your knee and squeeze the skin there gently. “I’m going to get some cold rags, okay? Just- stay here.” By the way that his voice had turned a little high-pitched, you could tell how he was slowly starting to get stressed out about the whole thing. Which was saying a lot, since there wasn’t much in the world that could stress him out. 

 The two of you rarely fell ill, and when you did, it was always a mild case of the cold. So for you to have so many symptoms all at once, must’ve been very overwhelming for your boyfriend. But, what could you do? The sickness was here, and it was here to stay… 

 You felt something cold press against your forehead amid your thoughts, and you cracked your tired eyes open to glimpse Minho leaning towards you on the couch, two other wet washcloths in hand. 

 “These will help to cool you down,” he explained, as he helped move you forward a little bit so that he could place the second cloth behind your neck. Then you let him guide you so that you were fully laying down on the couch, limbs sprawled out. You were too sapped of energy to even ask what he was doing as he gingerly lifted your oversized hoodie. When you felt the coldness of a third, and final washcloth press against your stomach, you understood his sudden actions. “You should take some ibuprofen, that’ll help bring your fever down.” 

 “I can’t take it without first eating something.” 

 “Then I’ll make you some food- did you have dinner?” 

 You shook your head no, the motion only making your pounding headache worse. You winced and grabbed at your head, massaging one of your temples. 

 “How about I heat some of the rice porridge from earlier?” Minho offered before standing up from his kneeling position on the ground.

 But just as he was about to leave your side, you stopped him by grasping at the fabric of his dark-blue sweatpants by his knees. He was still sweaty from the apparent dance practice that he had been doing in the studio just before he came home. “No- I- I’m too nauseous to eat anything right now.” You mumbled, voice cracking a little bit from the pain that was solidly rooted in your throat. Your cheeks were so hot, it felt like you had gotten a sunburn while laying out on the beach, when in reality- you had been lying around your apartment all day, not even catching a single glimpse of the sun through the hazy January clouds outside. 

 “Okay, well, maybe you can take the medicine later when you feel a little better,” Minho said. He was squatting down at your side then, brushing back your hair from your forehead. “Just rest on the couch here while I put the groceries away, and then we can go to bed.” 

 You nodded in understanding, too tired to say anything else as he kissed your hot cheek and finally pulled away from your side.

 That night turned out to be absolutely horrendous. 

 You tossed and turned throughout it, not being able to get comfortable. The cold washcloths had done little to help bring your fever down, and the throat lozenges that Minho had gotten for you at the grocery store earlier merely coated your throat in this weird aftertaste that left you coughing for half of the night. 

 Not to mention the headache. 

 Which had turned into a full-blown migraine. 

 The ache wrapped around your entire head, and it felt like someone had your skull in a vice-like grip, squeezing and squeezing the very life out of it. 

 Your boyfriend, who stayed up with you for the entirety of the night, was a literal fucking saint. He made trips into the bathroom every hour to dampen your washcloths with cold water again and regularly made you tea to try and help relieve your throat. 

 “Min- baby- you need to stop helping me now,” you whispered through the daze of tiredness. Because if you were drained, you couldn’t imagine how your boyfriend had to feel - what with having worked for the better half of sixteen hours that day. “You have so much on your plate right now, I can’t expect you to stay up all night just because I’m feeling like shit.” 

 “S’okay, I’m not sleepy…” But the way his quiet voice drifted off at the end of his words proved differently to you. 

 You turned on your side in bed, catching a glimpse of your boyfriend’s slumped form through the faint moonlight that shined through the bedroom window’s curtains. His shoulders were hunched over, his head hanging low, as he massaged languid circles into the palm of your closest hand. 

 “Yes, you are. Now, go to sleep.” You said firmly, pushing on his shoulders so that his head hit his pillow. 

 At your forceful movement, his eyes shot open. “I can’t leave you like this- baby, you’re in so much fucking pain right now. I-I feel horrible that I can’t help you more.” He said, his tone desperate. He threaded his fingers through yours then, squeezing a little desperately, trying to convey how strongly he felt about staying up with you and helping you practically survive the night. 

 “I know babe, I know…” You pushed away a few locks of his dark, chestnut-brown hair that had fallen in front of his face, giving him a soft smile. “But you need to sleep now, okay? That’s how you can help me feel better- by going to bed. I’ll be fine, so don’t worry about me.” 

 Minho was silent for a few beats, as you stared into each other's eyes. You were both incredibly stubborn when you wanted to be, but on this topic- you wouldn’t budge. He couldn’t jeopardize his packed schedule while also letting the boys down just because you weren’t feeling well. 

 “Alright,” he finally surrendered in a defeated-sounding voice. “But, you’ll wake me up if anything happens, right?” 

 “Of course.” You leaned down into him and gave the crown of his head a soft kiss. “Love you, Min.” 

 “Love you too…” He said, his eyes already closed. And just like that, you watched his face relax, body melting into the soft downy mattress, as he finally drifted off to sleep. 

 And hopefully, you’d soon join him in blissful sleep as well. 

 Turns out that you didn’t get a wink of shut-eye that night, tossing and turning underneath your thin sheet - you had thrown off the thick duvet coverlet that had been laid on top of you early on in the night. A thick coating of sweat covered your entire body, even with the cold washcloths still placed on you. Your boyfriend, on the other hand, had been out like a light. 

 In your sleepless, frail daze, you hadn’t managed to catch him as he left for work early the next morning. But as soon as your eyes opened, your head throbbed from the bright light flooding through your bedroom’s curtains, and a strong wave of nausea overtook you. 

 You shot from your bed and barely made it to the bathroom. You leaned over the toilet bowl and hurled up the little contents that were left inside of you. The only thing you had eaten the day before was the rice porridge that Minho had made for you in the morning and two strawberry-mango-flavoured popsicles to try and ease your throat. 

 It still hurt like hell, and your head was pounding from your migraine. When you leaned back from the toilet, a loud groan escaped past your lips from the distress that you were in. You sat there on the cold, tiled bathroom floor for a few minutes, just taking in deep breaths and trying to persuade yourself to get up when all you felt like doing was tipping over and passing out from exhaustion. 

 In the end, you managed to get up from the hard ground and brush your teeth before making your way back to your nightstand, where you had glimpsed a small piece of paper placed just atop your latest pick from your local library. The nightstand’s clock read just half-past ten o’clock in the morning. 

 You probably didn’t get much sleep last night. Try to take a nap sometime today when you can. 

 You need to eat something, but, if you’re too nauseous, at least drink lots of water. There’s some Pocari Sweat in the fridge, so drink plenty of that. 

 And please, try to take some ibuprofen if you can. It will help bring down your fever. Checked it before I left, temp is now at 102.8. It should’ve broken in the night.  

 Call/text me whenever you want to, I’ll be available all day and will be home even earlier than yesterday. 

Love you, Minho XX

 Even through your confused state of pain and weariness, a smile graced your lips at your boyfriend’s thoughtfulness. Since you rarely got sick, it was uncommon for you to experience this exact side of him. It was a whole kind of new Lee Minho, and to be honest, you quite liked it. And although the doting could be a little excessive and suffocating, it was the thought that counted, right? 

 Somehow, you found enough energy inside of you to get up from your comfy bed and into the shower. The hot water felt amazing on your skin, and did wonders for your bad migraine. You stood under the spout for at least twenty minutes - maybe even more than that. And when you were too tired to keep standing, you sat down on the cold tile of the stall. The steam that the scalding water emitted all around you also helped to calm your inflamed throat down, and you basked in the comforting feeling for quite a while. 

 It was only after you stepped out of the shower, legs slightly wobbly, that you realized your mistake. 

 You had a fucking fever, for God’s sake- 

 It should’ve been very obvious to you- 

 Not to take a scalding hot shower for that long. 

 Even still, there was no turning back. And almost immediately, you felt the repercussions of your actions. As you wrapped a fluffy white towel around your body and grabbed for the blow dryer, you suddenly felt very lightheaded. 

 And not the kind of lightheaded that you would sometimes get if you stood up from a sitting position too quickly. 

 No, this kind of lightheadedness was the kind where you felt like you were about to fucking pass out. 

 Just then, you realized how hot your entire body felt. You thought that it had been bad before- but nothing compared to the sheer heat that radiated off of your body. 

 With a racing heart and shaking limbs, you slowly shuffled out of the bathroom, clutching onto the wall for support. Your vision was going in and out, turning so blurry that you could barely see in front of you. 

 You fumbled around your nightstand for your phone, and with quaking fingers, you dialed Minho’s number as fast as you could. You were standing just beside your bed, legs feeling like they were about to give out on you. You were so weary and confused and felt like you were about to fall over, so half of what you were doing didn’t even make sense to you. But you knew that you had to get ahold of your boyfriend- in that scary moment, that was the most important thing to you. 

 The phone rang once, 

 Twice, 

 Three times. 

 Please, just fucking pick up- 

 Please don’t be in a meeting or at practice or- 

 “Baby? I’m so glad you called, how are you-” His gentle, serene voice rang out across your phone’s speaker that was pressed to your ear. 

 You let out a sob of relief, the tears finally flowing down your cheeks. “M-Min, I-I can’t-“ It was hard for you to speak over the dizziness and confusion. 

 “Y/N? What’s wrong? What happened?” Minho’s voice immediately turned frantic at your mumblings. 

 “S-So dizzy- got out of the shower and- and gonna pass out- help me, Min, please-” It felt like your knees were about to buckle just then, but Minho’s voice cut through your heated stupor. 

 “Lie down right now, baby. You close to the bed?” 

 “Y-yeah-”

 “Lie down, completely stretch out your body. Can you do that for me?” 

 You said nothing more, shifting towards your bed and collapsing on top of it with a tiny gasp of exhaustion. “I-I’m on it-”

 “I’m leaving the company right now,” Minho’s exclamation broke through your daze of fatigue. 

 “W-What? Baby- no, don’t- you have an important recording today and-”

 “To hell with the schedule!” He was suddenly shouting through the phone, making you pull it away from your ear from the loudness. It only made your headache worse. When he heard your whimper of pain, he began speaking again but in a quieter voice. “I’m sorry for yelling, baby- it’s just that, the company can’t expect me to go to work when the fucking love of my life is about to pass out from the flu that she has.” His voice was much calmer this time and helped to soothe your racing heart a little bit. Your limbs were still shaking though, your vision going in and out. 

 There was silence on both your ends, as your slow mind processed his words. You heard shuffling on his line and muffled voices. Then he was talking to someone - it sounded like Chan - their whispers were hard to hear over the static of the phone. 

 “Baby?” Minho’s voice cut through your tiredness. You opened your eyes weakly, trying to focus your attention on the painting that hung on the wall just beside your flatscreen tv. It was of a single, pink tulip positioned in a grassy field. The piece was something that Hyunjin had gifted you for your birthday in the past year. “I want you to stay on the phone with me until I get home, okay? Just keep talking to me - about anything - just don’t close your eyes, alright?” 

 His instructions seemed like absolute torture to you right then, because all you wanted to do was close your eyes and let go - let your mind drift off into wonderland for even a few blissful seconds. “I’ll try,” you started, voice quiet as you nuzzled into the bed’s thick duvet that was still messed up from the night before. You hadn’t found the energy to make it yet. “I-I threw up this morning.” 

 “Oh, darling- I’m so sorry I wasn’t there… but, I’ll be there soon, yeah? I’ll take care of you, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.” His tone was laced with concern, and a tiny smile spread across your lips at how attentive he was being toward you. 

 The entire thirty-minute commute that he took every day from your apartment to the company, you stayed on the line with your boyfriend, talking about whatever came to your mind. You were still nauseous, so food was never brought up, mainly just the changing weather and what you wanted to do that weekend since he’d have a break from schedules that Saturday, which was quite a rare occurrence for him. 

 Laying down on the bed had helped your dizziness somewhat, but every time you shifted just a little bit, your vision would go blurry again. It was annoying as fuck, to add yet another symptom to your myriad of other problems. 

 “I’m pulling up to the apartment right now, so I’ll hang up. Wait for me, baby.” Minho finally said after what felt like an eternity of him traveling home from the company. You mumbled an incoherent ‘yes’ before he hung up the call. 

 True to your promise, you kept your eyes open, laying as still as a statue on the bed. You were back to studying Hyunjin’s flower painting just as you heard the front door’s keypad being used. A breath of relief left you as shuffling echoed throughout the one-bedroom apartment, and in no time at all, there your boyfriend was- rushing into your bedroom with a wild look in his eyes and flushed cheeks, his dark brows furrowed.  

 “Kitten-“ he breathed out in a sight of relief at the sight of your still-awake form, “C’mere.” He dropped his backpack on the floor next to the door before he was bounding towards you. In one swift movement, he was lifting you off the bed, taking you up into his arms, and cradling your head against his chest as he sat back down on the bed’s plush mattress. 

 The tears started again almost as soon as he had you in his arms. Your sobs wracked through your body, as he brushed soothing fingers through your hair. You knew that crying would only make your migraine worse, but you couldn’t give a flying fuck about anything just then. You were just so happy to see your boyfriend, after such a disastrous morning. 

 “Y-You came back for me,” you sniffled after a long bout of silence that was filled with only your cries. You pulled away from his chest, looking up at him through blurry vision. “I-I was so scared, Min.”

 Minho swiped his thumbs underneath your eyes, gently catching your falling tears with the pads of his soft fingers. “Of course I did, baby. I love you… and it kills me to see you this way. I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to help you.” 

 “Just glad you’re here now,” you whispered, clutching onto his waist a little harder. “I’ll feel better now with just your presence alone… but, how long are you staying for?” 

 He tucked a few strands of your still-sopping wet hair behind your ear. In your dizziness, you hadn’t found the time to dry it yet. “Not leaving you again, darling. The company gave me the day off, Chan helped me persuade them.” 

 “B-But you’re gonna miss such an important day of schedules and-”

 Your boyfriend shushed you with a slender finger to your lips. “It’s already done now, Y/N. So let’s just focus on helping you feel better, alright? By firstly, getting you dressed.” 

 You looked down and realized that you were still only clad in your soaked towel. “Wow, I didn’t even realize I was still in this…” Your voice trailed off, as Minho placed you back down on the bed and made for your walk-in closet. 

 “Is it a sweatpants and hoodie kinda day again?” He asked as he poked his head into the closet. 

 “A-Actually, I’m too hot to wear anything thick,” you managed to stutter out, perched at the edge of the bed. And soon enough, your loving, doting boyfriend emerged from the closet with a pair of soft, black cotton shorts and a thin, maroon-colored camisole. 

 “Will this do?” He questioned, holding up the items for you to inspect them from across the room.

 Wordlessly, you nodded your approval. And soon enough, he was shifting his way toward you. In no time at all, he had helped slip the shorts up your bare legs, the loose waistband resting gently against your hips. Then, he guided the camisole over your head, gently pulling the thin spaghetti straps over your shoulders. 

 “All good?” Leaning forward, he tucked a piece of your wet hair that had fallen into the front of your face behind your ear. 

 “Mhm- but my hair’s still wet from the shower,” you mumbled, staring up into his dark pupils that were dancing with a myriad of emotions - but especially, concern. “Carry me?” You asked, reaching out your arms to him, supple and waiting, like a small baby that wanted to be carried by someone they trusted. 

 “Always, kitten.” He whispered, just as he pulled you up into his hold. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he charged for the bathroom. And soon, you were sitting atop the granite counter, as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

 The blow dryer was loud in your ears, and the heat from it only seemed to raise your temperature even more. You still had your legs wound around Minho’s torso as he worked with nimble fingers to dry your hair. You tipped your head towards his hand every time he ran a brush through your locks. 

 When he was finished, he pressed a palm against your forehead for what felt like the millionth time that day. “You’re still burning up, baby…” His voice trailed off, as he leaned across the counter, grabbing a stray hair bobble. He pulled your hair away from your face and fitted it into a loose ponytail at the back of your head. Immediately upon the feeling of your thick locks being out of your face, a content sigh of relief escaped past your lips. “I really need you to take that ibuprofen, honey.” A deep frown bloomed across his lips, turning his mouth downwards in a displeased kind of way. 

 “My migraine isn’t as bad as it was earlier, so I think I can choke something down now.” You said. Your eyes were still closed, as you breathed in the familiar scent - of warm, dark roasted coffee and cinnamon sticks - of your boyfriend. 

 And in no time at all, he had you seated on the living room couch, your eyes trailing over the food that he prepared for lunch. There was a bowl of the porridge that he had made the day before, a piece of plain, white buttered toast, and a yellowed banana. Not to mention the medicine set off to the side with a tall glass of water. 

 “Eat, baby.” Your boyfriend took hold of the tray that the food was on and positioned it on your lap. 

 He was sitting beside you on the couch, gaze locked on your form with a certain kind of intensity that would make you anxious if you didn’t know him so well. The intensity he had was only borne out of concern. He so desperately wanted you to get better, that’s all. 

 “Thank you, Min… it looks delicious.” You pecked his cheek gently, watching as a soft smile cracked across his lips before you delved into the lunch. 

 You had to admit, the food was exceptionally good. The porridge helped to alleviate your throat, and the bread filled your stomach comfortably. You hadn’t realized how hungry you had truly been until you started eating. But halfway through the meal, you stopped when you noticed how your boyfriend hadn’t moved from his spot of watching you. 

 “Aren’t you going to join me?” You asked, motioning towards your spoon that was laden with porridge. 

 He shook his head slowly, “Want to take care of you first, that’s all.” 

 You gave him a deep frown. “Min, you're already taking care of me. Just making this meal is enough for me.” 

 “I know, but I wasn’t here earlier- don’t want to take my eyes off you for even a second, in case something happens.” 

 “I’m not going to pass out, baby. I’m fine now. So please, eat some lunch, yeah?” 

 “You still have the flu, Y/N. Just because you haven’t passed out yet doesn’t mean you won’t in the future,” Minho crossed his arms in front of his chest, canting his head to the side, eyes trailing on your red-cheeked face. “And I want to be sure I’m here to catch you if that happens.” 

 “Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence…” You grumbled softly, turning your attention back to your cooling porridge. There was no use fighting him on the matter anyway. He was a stubborn mule when he wanted to be, and apparently, Minho would run himself ragged before he ever looked away from you again. 

 It was only after you had finished your lunch, and had downed four ibuprofen pills and a glass of water with it, that Minho finally got up from the couch to put your dishes away and make something for himself. He rounded the couch a few minutes later, pressing a cold washcloth against your head. The sudden coolness surprised you, and you slightly sat up from your laying position on the couch to catch a glimpse of your boyfriend. 

 Minho took a seat at the end of the couch, near your feet, a plate of food in his hands. For his meal, he was having a rather bland-looking sandwich, with a green apple sliced thin set off to the side. 

 “That’s all you’re having to eat?” You raised an eyebrow at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a good look at him. 

 His gaze was already on you even before you met his stare, as he bit into his sandwich. “Don’t pass judgment on my habits when you hadn’t eaten anything until just now.” 

 “But I’m the one who’s sick here…” You protested, shaking your head in disapproval at the lack of food on his plate. He was a growing guy, always in the gym, always straining his body for work. He needed to eat enough to fuel himself properly. Changbin was always harping about such things to the boys, but especially, your boyfriend. Since, as Changbin put it, ‘he never seems to get enough macros in for his height and weight range.’ Whatever the hell that meant. 

 To that, Minho said nothing, merely biting into his sandwich once more. His silence only made you more agitated with him, and that, coupled with your slightly-pounding migraine and your drowsiness only helped to add fuel to the fire. 

 “I”m worried about you, Min… you need to eat more if you want-”

 “You’re worried?” He suddenly let out a dry, humorless scoff. And instantly, you recognized his tone. In the blink of an eye, his entire demeanor shifted. It changed from the intensity he had from caring for you, to the intensity that he always got whenever he was worked up. Whenever he was worked up about you, and your safety. “I’m the one who’s fucking worried here, Y/N!” He practically burst out in a loud voice, throwing his plate down on the nearby coffee table in his sudden exclamation. 

 “Minho-” You began in a soft voice but you were quickly cut off by his raising voice once more. 

 “Do you have any fucking idea how scary it was to get a call from you this morning and have you practically fighting for your very life to not pass out right then and there?” He ran a few frantic fingers through his hair, clutching at the roots, slightly bending over, and resting his elbows against his knees. “Because damn it- I was practically shaking from all the worry. And then I come home and find you literally naked and sopping wet and crying and-” Just then, his voice cracked, his words fading off into the distance. 

 And in the next beat, you were moving. Towards him, so that you were right up in his personal space. You took hold of one of his hands, pulling it away from tugging at his locks of brown hair. Squeezing your fingers between his own, you pressed a soft kiss to the top of his hand. 

 “Baby, I’m so sorry… it’s my fault that everything became such a big mess. I didn’t have to take such a long, hot shower.” You admitted, giving his skin another kiss. 

 Minho pulled his head up just then, as it had dropped between his hunched shoulders in his distress. His eyes slid over to yours instantly. “Don’t apologize, none of this is your fault. You were only trying to relieve your symptoms, I get it.” He held onto your hand a little tighter, like in that moment, he needed to be grounded in the reality of you. That you were still there with him, still living and breathing, albeit tired as hell and ill to the bone. But still, there nonetheless. “And please, just... don’t leave me, okay? I can’t lose you, baby… I can’t…” His voice became a tiny whisper at the end of his words, misery flashing across his face, radiating deep in the way that his eyes softened at the sight of you, his brows creasing with the tears that he could never seem to shed. 

 “Min, I have the flu… not the damn plague.” You laughed, lips grazing his hand again as you placed another peck against his skin. “And of course, I’m not going to leave you.” 

 “Good, because I’m never going to leave you either.” And suddenly, he was taking hold of you, pulling you onto his lap and burrowing his face into the crook of your exposed neck. He blew raspberry kisses against your heated skin, making you burst out into a fit of giggles. You kicked your feet up into the air, trying to escape him as his nimble fingers tickled you at your sides. 

 And all at once, just for a few minutes, he helped you forget about everything - about your sickness, the discomfort, and the fatigue. All of it. Helping by kissing away the swarthy thoughts and tension-filled temples. 

 Later that day, your fever finally broke. The medicine seemed to kick in just in time and helped to completely take away your headache. Your throat still felt dry and scratchy, but continually downing warm cups of tea was slowly helping that. You and Minho spent the day lounging around the apartment, watching random reality shows that were playing on the tv, and indulging in a whole pint of chocolate ice cream an hour before bed. 

 But despite having all that sugar and caffeine right before laying down, you found that sleep threatened to take over you as soon as your head hit the pillow. 

 “Will you go in to work tomorrow?” You asked, laying on your side and facing your boyfriend as he sprawled out in the bed just a little ways away from you. 

 “I don’t know… I hope not.” 

 “The boys will need you, baby. I think you should.” 

 After all, he was an integral part of the team. He couldn’t simply disappear from Stray Kids for even a few days and not have them feel the lasting effects of his absence. 

 “Let’s not worry about that and just focus on going to bed, okay?” He reached out to you, clutching onto your hip and pulling you towards him. 

 When your forehead was comfortably rested against his bare, muscled chest, you peered up at him with a faint smile pulling at your lips. “Thanks for taking care of me today, honey. I don’t deserve you…” 

 He pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead, his voice rumbling with sleep as he spoke, “I’ll do anything for you, kitten. And of course, you deserve me- I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.” 

 Without another word said between the two of you, you closed your eyes and breathed in deeply. Your boyfriend's comforting scent washed over you, seeming to soothe a tender spot inside of you, and all at once, you were falling fast and hard into a deep slumber. 

 The first thing you noticed when you awoke the following morning was that for once in what felt like an eternity, the blinding morning light shining through the bedroom curtains didn’t automatically make you feel like shit. Instead, it helped to place a content feeling deep inside your heart. 

 And the second thing that you noticed when you awoke the following morning was the fact that your boyfriend was still in bed. 

 He had both arms wrapped around your waist, and when you dragged away from his chest, a muffled groan fled from his slightly-parted lips. 

 With a glance at your nearby clock, you noticed how it was well past the time that he usually got up for work. 

 Minho cracked an eye open from the shifting of your figure, a lazy smirk blooming across his mouth at the sight of your eyebrows raising on your forehead in surprise. “Guess I won’t be going in to work after all…” He said, voice husky with sleep. 

 You squirmed in his arms until you were loose enough to get a good look at him. His cheeks were slightly flushed, and suddenly, you thought that perhaps the huskiness of his voice wasn’t just from sleep. “Why are you staying home today? I thought you said you were going to go into the office.” 

 Shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly, that same smirk was still on his face. “The sore throat woke me up in the middle of the night.” 

 A loud groan bubbled up and out of you, as you scrubbed a frustrated hand across your face. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” 

 “Hey- well, at least you’re feeling somewhat better now… that way, you can take care of me when I nearly pass out after a hot shower.” 

 With that, you shoved at his shoulder gently, sending a glare his way. “This isn’t funny, Min. You shouldn’t have gotten so close to me- shouldn’t have kissed me! Now you can’t go to work for God knows how long because of this stupid flu!” 

 He waved a noncommittal hand in the air, batting away your worries like he didn’t have seven other boys who depended on him, like he didn’t have a whole company counting on his work, like he didn’t have millions of worldwide fans anticipating his presence. “Eh- to hell with it all, I was bored with work anyway. And besides, I cannot ever stop myself from kissing you, baby. At this point, I’m pretty sure it’s hardwired into my brain as a daily need to function.” He gave you a playful wink, and you rolled your eyes exasperatingly. 

 “You're so stupid,” you grumbled, hating the idea of seeing him go through the same pain you went through. You had survived the worst of it already, but you wouldn’t wish it on anyone - not even your worst enemy. “Well, you better promise that you won’t be a pain in my ass and actually��accept my help when you need it.” 

 He shook his head noncommittally, “I shall make no such promises.” You felt a hand clutch at one of your sides, just as he was pulling you against his warm body once more. “Now, c’mere and give me a kiss.” 

 You smiled against his mouth, melting into his hold as he pressed kiss after soft kiss to your lips. 

 Because even though now you were both sick, 

 At least you had each other. 

 And at the end of the day, that’s all that mattered…

 That Minho had you, and you had him. 

 So even despite feeling like a literal ball of hot, steamy garbage baking in the summer heat, 

 You felt like, at that moment, you could whether anything in life - any storm coming your way, any curve ball thrown at you, any toxic person coming into your path, 

 Just as long as you had him by your side. 

 As long as you had Lee Minho, your beautiful, loving, eccentric, doting boyfriend, you’d be just fine. 

 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

[ironheartwriter]

Happy WIP Wednesday, Friends.

Thanks for the tags @honeybee-taskforce, @heartstringsduet, @welcometololaland, @strandnreyes, @alrightbuckaroo,

@whatsintheboxmh

This is a 5x01 Coda I was inspired to write this morning based on what possibly happens before the show starts. Hopefully I should have it up in the next day or two.

That was, until he felt his husband’s lips trailing along his shoulder, to the spot where his spine and neck meet, his teeth pulling ever so slightly on the chain around his throat. Suddenly, sleep was the last thing on his mind. With a slow inhale, TK shifts, rolling onto his back as his eyes open. Even in the early morning light, he can make out the shadowy form of his husband watching him, and his heart swells in response. It had been longer than TK cared to think about that things felt ever so slightly off-kilter between him and Carlos. It wasn’t that they were going through through a rough patch per se, but there was just this constant awareness that things weren’t exactly right, and they hadn’t been since Carlos had joined the Texas Rangers nine months earlier. TK wanted to be a supportive husband, and he liked to believe that he had been accomplishing just that, but each time he found himself home alone at night, eating dinner alone, falling asleep in a bed far too large for only him, something inside him seemed to crack just a little more. It was when Carlos did something as simple as waking him a little earlier than necessary, however, that those cracks seemed to heal over, if only temporarily. He was TK Strand. His heart being broken and carefully pieced back together was hardly something new to him, after all. He just never expected it to be a consistent occurrence once he was married to the love of his life. “Where are you?” The question is nearly inaudible as it leaves Carlos’s lips, and before he answers, TK pushes himself up on his elbows, meeting Carlos’s lips with a gentle kiss. “I am right where I want to be,” TK answers, his voice thick with sleep as his eyes search Carlos’s face now that he can see his husband a little more clearly. He reaches out, resting a hand on Carlos’s cheek, “Everything okay, baby?” “Will you get up with me?” Carlos asks, pressing a kiss to TK’s palm. “I know you have a little bit until your alarm goes off, but….”

Tagging @emsprovisions, @sapphic--kiwi, @carlos-in-glasses, @reyesstrand, @lemonlyman-dotcom

@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @corsage, @chicgeekgirl89, @firstprince-history-huh + Open tag because my internet is giving me issues rn.

[firenati0n]

wip wednesday <3 :)

hello it is 12:41am and officially wednesday for me and i can feel in my bones that today will be a day of roop rest. i am feeling the beginnings of a sickness coming on and i want to scream. if you don't see me reblogging these please forgive me, i am so so sorry. <3

here's a snip from a new wip with no real title. the doc is called "doomed romance" and it's my very loose a star is born x orpheus and eurydice au. it will be tragic angst with no hea because i am feeling many turbulent emotions rn personally and this helps me channel it :) if you poke me hard enough I'll spill the whole plot to you in discord DMs (tumblr bans me when i message more than 2 people jafksdjflsf). so there's that!

i shared this already in an ask for the wip title game but who cares. here you go! :)

Alex got his very first guitar from his father, a gift for his seventh birthday, along with private lessons. Always the performer, always the charmer. Flitting around, singing made up songs about the beauty of dinner rolls on Thanksgiving. Humming tunes he wrote to convince his mother to let him stay the night with friends, to stay up a little longer, to experience the world a little more. Music became his escape, lilting melodies his release, mesmerizing harmonies a reprieve.  When Oscar and Ellen divorced, Oscar fled to the coast, leaving Alex alone at fourteen with his guitar and a memory of love that wasn’t meant to last. Alex played his guitar until his fingers bled, alone in his room, suffocating from emotions he couldn’t put into words, leaking into his music.  He penned his first EP a year later, eyes wild from racing thoughts and imagination and pain and fear. He posted a video on TikTok on a random evening and woke up to overnight viral fame.  No one could resist his soulful brown eyes, framed by doe lashes, sitting pretty on a face one could only describe as biblically gorgeous. Dark curls, a chin dimple, the cheekiest smile—Alex was marketable perfection in the sweetest package.  But fame comes at a heavy cost. 

xoxo roop

+ no pressure tags under the cut:

@kiwiana-writes @getmehighonmagic @tintagel-or-cockleshells @cricketnationrise @sherryvalli @dumbpeachjuice @littlemisskittentoes @ssmtskw @tailsbeth-writes @lizzie-bennetdarcy @leojfitz @songliili @eusuntgratie @wordsofhoneydew @heybuddy-drabbles @happiness-of-the-pursuit @ninzied @bigassbowlingballhead @anincompletelist @rockyroadkylers @inexplicablymine @myheartalivewrites @suseagull04 @sparklepocalypse @onward--upward @nocoastposts @user-anakin @matherines @celeritas2997 @gayrootvegetable @affectionatelyrs @tinyarmedtrex @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @14carrotghoul @orchidscript @rmd-writes @dustratcentral @magicandarchery @leaves-of-laurelin @msmarvelouswinchester @whimsymanaged @tintagel-or-cockleshells @zwiazdziarka @indomitable-love @cha-melodius @anchoredarchangel @theprinceandagcd @gay-flyboys @read-and-write-

[ablatheringblatherskite]

Fic Tag Game!!

How many works do you have on AO3?

25!

What’s your AO3 word count?

109,751

What fandoms do you write for?

Star Wars (haven't in a while tho), Wednesday, and I used to write for Hamilton. I also have a single fic for ATLA and Daredevil, and I'm currently writing a few fics for The Phantom of the Opera, HTTYD, Freelancers, and several other fandoms I can't remember ATM (I have that many WIPs LOL)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

The Valentine's Day Curse (Wednesday)

"send your cutest delivery boy" (special instructions, Tyler's POV) (Wednesday) (which was based on the fic by @cosmic-lullaby!)

wet face towels (Wednesday)

can I have this dance? (Wednesday)

My Halloween Angel (Wednesday)

Do you respond to comments?

I do!! I try to respond to every single one of them, though I'm a little backlogged rn LOL

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I think it would have to either be stupid, stupid cartoon (Wednesday. Basically a what if Tyler died, and how would Donovan react?), or The Bonds of Lycanthropy (a Hamilton AU where he turns into a werewolf LOL)

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think a lot of my fics end pretty happy, but I think one of the happiest ones is Angels In Hell's Kitchen (Daredevil. About Matt Murdock having a good day for once).

Do you get hate on fics?

Thankfully no! And I'm praying it stays that way 😅🙏

Do you write smut? What kind?

Nope. And I never will 😅 makes me much too uncomfortable (I never read it either). Both because that's just how I am personally and for religious reasons. But I do love writing wholesome romance!

Do you write cross-overs?

I do! I only posted one tho, and that was literally the first fic I ever wrote 😭 it was a crossover between Newsies and In the Heights, where Jack and Usnavi run away from New York. I do have several crossover WIPs though!! Including but not limited to: a Narnia/The Hobbit crossover, a Narnia/His Dark Materials crossover, a HTTYD/Wings of Fire crossover, and a Daredevil/Batman crossover!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I can't remember, but I think it's possible I have before? When my main site was still Fanfiction.net?

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I have!! But they aren't done yet 😭 but I'm writing them with @the-old-fashioned-girl! It's the Daredevil/Batman crossover, as well as a Hamilton fic!

What WIP would you like to finish but doubt you ever will?

Oh gosh, I don't want to ever think I'll NEVER finish a WIP, don't do that to me! I wanna say I'll finish all of the ones I want to finish eventually!!

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Oh goodness, that's hard... probably Hiccstrid, Raoulstine, Silverparry, and Wyler!

What are your writing strengths?

I'm a pretty fast writer, I think. When I finally sit down and set my mind to it, I can easily get out a thousand+ words!

What are your writing weaknesses?

EDITING MY BELOATHED. And actually sitting down and starting to write...

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I think it's really cool when done well!! I've done it for Lafayette in some Hamilton fics, and I want to try using Tagalog in another fic someday! I'm also using sign language for my Deaf!Raoul AU!

First fandom you wrote for?

Like, wrote for, or actually posted? Because wrote for in general, it might be Ninjago but I never posted it. But published, Newsies and In The Heights LOL. But the one I posted frequently for first was Hamilton.

Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Dang, that's hard. Possibly Talking To The Moon (Avatar: The Last Airbender)! I like how I tackled both Toph and Sokka in it :DD

No Pressure Tags!!: @rainintheevening, @clawedandcute, @darling-gemini, @chaotic-bumblebee-agenda, @mrgartist, @catkin-morgs-kookaburralover, @wednesdayandherhyde, @thee-antler-queen, @broken-everlark, @incomingalbatross and @muse-write!

[tenpintsof-sundrop]

just so you guys know, people are still throwing rocks at me in my inbox.

I don't think I'm gonna post or respond to the messages, because I am just tired at this point. even though I have a lot to say and I feel the need to defend myself when someone sends me long ass paragraphs accusing me of not being 'accountable' and using my chronic illness as something to 'hide behind'?

like girl. I write fanfiction. I. write. fanfiction.

at the end of the day this is a hobby. it is a hobby that I am very passionate about - but I am beholden to no one. I could post 10 different fics that are 2 sentences long each and make no sense and I would have to explain myself to no one about it.

but I know that a lot of people wondered why I deleted @/pinkchubbiebunnie and for a lot of people it was very sudden - and it was because of harassment like this. and it was a lot of harassment that you guys didn't see. for every one message I posted then, there was 30, 40, 50 messages in my inbox - ones I deleted or debated responding to. and that was because I was pointing out fatphobia and lack of trans and amab inclusion in fics (a lack of representation for reader characters outside of cis women, which I think is unfair even though I am a cis woman).

and this time I am being harassed for - pointing out that genuine, healthy reader/writer interaction is down across the board for all authors and saying that due to lack of interaction and because of rude interaction, I had a very hard time finishing a long, multichapter fic. (which I did end up finishing). and I am being berated for not sticking with fandoms, not finishing fics in the past, and supposedly being a rude horrible person.

I am really, really trying hard to push past those rude messages and forget about them so that I can move on. and something I was thinking about last night was doing WIP Wednesdays (aka posting a tiny sample of my wips on Wednesday, which is usually only something people do if they are tagged to do it?) - but now I feel like if I reveal anything about a fic and then don't complete it, it's rude? idk. I am just trying to focus on what I'm working on now because I liked the idea when it was conceptualized in my mind.

but this is really, really demotivating me from posting anything ever

I don't want this to be the straw that breaks the camels back (when it comes to me quitting posting fics) and I don't want to post rude messages that people send me just to get sympathy (because I don't want sympathy, I guess I just want understanding?) - but just know I'm going through the ringer rn. and I want to keep sharing my fics, because I know that those fics make people happy.

before all this, I was even considering doing a series on AO3 called 'from the vault' where I posted all the old kpop fanfics that I have still stored in my google docs just so that people can read them and maybe enjoy them, even if I consider them cringeworthy because they are not up to my current skill level - but idk. all of this is just aggravating my existing mental illness so much and sucking away all the excitement I had for any of these things

[voxofthevoid]

hello, I am here again to throw happy confetti at you for your wip wednesdays. primarily:

omg not the infinity over the butthole!!! ahah, gojou's such a tease. actually though, ever since that one recent manga chapter where yuuji just knows sensei's got his cursed technique up, even at a distance, I've been craving more content that plays around with infinity in their one-on-one interactions. so I was very excited to see this lol. I'll also say that it was super intriguing to see the word count split up by acts! and each excerpt was *chef's kiss* as always. I am so eager to see the kidnapping fic in its full glory. thank you again for sharing these <3

(I typed up a whole reply to this and then Tumblr fucking ate it. Round 2. Hellsite.)

^ me rn (ignoring the Tumblr-directed rage)

I was cackling while writing the scene with Infinity over the asshole, even if the scene itself had a wholly different tone, and I'm delighted you find it funny! I'm in the same boat about Gojou's use of Infinity when it comes to Yuuji; I've been rabid about it since Episode 3, when Gojou lets Yuuji hug him and rub their faces together (MAPPA, I owe you my life), and the "give it to me" panel just made me more insane about the whole thing. I've been working it into pretty much every fic, I write, and I'll probably continue doing that, but Infinity: Literal Asshole Edition may remain my best work 🤣

And thank you so much!! I might start posting it in August or September (if you can hear disembodied screaming in the wind, ignore it; it's only my common sense's death throes), depending on when I finish it.

By my current estimate, I have 4 chapters left to write and 1 chapter to rewrite. The total will come up to 18 chapters minimum, and at my one-chapter-a-month pace, it'll still take me 1.5 years to post the whole thing, assuming there will be no interruptions. I'd like to get started as soon as I can in that case, but between the a/b/o role reversal (6 chapters), the de-aged Gojou series (17 chapters across 3 fics), and the time travel threesome (8 chapters), my JJK schedule is already full for at least half a year. I could wedge one more fic in, but it'll involve prodding at my overall posting schedule. Let's see!

Thanks again!!

[killerandhealerqueen]

🦈🍄🧭🖍🤔❤️

also 🩷🩵🤍

AND 5, 7, 16, 19, 22

Haha, thanks babe

1.🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)

Current WIP that I'm working on is called "For Eternity"

2. 🍄Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

Immortal with a hatred for demons due to his entire family being killed by them + demon who hides their identity to join a sect responsible for nearly wiping out their entire clan during a war = a fuckton of angst (but with a happy ending)

4. 🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

I don't have any alternative names rn at the moment for any of my wips, but I did just think of one for one of my White Cat Legend fics, which I like. I think I'm gonna title it "In Sickness and In Health"

7. 🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

         “Who are you calling old?  You’re just as old as I am” he argued. 

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

My Spirealm Au. I think it'll be a cool au for Killer and Healer, I just have a fuckton of other fics to work on rn before I can get to that one

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

Thank you my lovely ❤️

wip ask game | send me asks

🩷: lets go kill someone together <3

While I would love to, I do have an interview with a police department on wednesday for a crime scene technician position so...can't have that on my record, you know? but tempting!

🩵: you are amazing and i love you /p

Thank you, my darling! I love you too!

🤍: you scare me /pos

Good

ask game | send me asks

5. What is your MBTI, and do you think it is accurate?

My MBIT is INTP and I'd say it's pretty damn accurate save for the "loathes rules and guidelines" because I actually love those

7. What are three things that scare you a lot?

Flying, Heights, and getting locked in a store (it's why I won't go to any store close to closing time because I'm afraid of getting locked in)

16. What is the funniest word you can think of?

I can't think of one, honestly

19. What is your favorite flavor of ice cream and why?

It's either Mint Chocolate Chip, because I like the taste of mint, or Dulche de Leche, because caramel is delicious

22. What is your ideal home?

Two bedroom ranch style with a wrap around porch, sun room, plants everywhere, a green kitchen (like jewel-tone green cabinets, gold hardware, white quartz countertop), nice bathroom and bedrooms...can you tell I watch HGTV?

24 Questions To Get To Know Each Other! | send me asks

[halestrom]

WIP Wednesday

It's Wednesday in my heart. But thank you to @spurious for doing this and helping me with my writing with the different options in varying ways.

WIP Year in Review

Number of WIPs Begun this Year: 62 woof this includes finished stuff bc my files are a hot mess

Number of WIPs Finished this Year: 31! Not including any ficlets I did on tumblr that I will at some point, fucking transfer over so I can find them easier.

Longest-Running WIP: I Won't Say I'm In Love which I AM EDITING RN PEOPLE

Newest WIP: Haunted, Hangster with ghosts and its fun and I have plans for it so fingers crossed I don't end up with another 100k behemoths she says as she knows its gonna be at least 40k minimum

Most Worked on WIP: rn its Cockblock which is SO CLOSE to being done its like 3 chapters

Favorite WIP: Cockblock is almost done, and I am so excited for it. Also haunted is a lot of fun. I also recently reread Slowburn and I'm excited for it as well and I hope to finish it soon.

Favorite Completed Work: I really like Marked for Later, my OT4 soulmates fic. And Racing Hearts bc I love daniel/vala/cam and I love cam's family. And Colorado Blue Eyes bc I love a good western AU.(also, I'm straight up still so happy with the title for this shirts made of boyfriend material bc it fits in a really funny way with the fic)

WIP You're Most Excited to Finish: Cockblock. I won't Say I'm In love. SlowBurn. All of them? Because I am excited to share them and also be done with them alkjdalks

WIP You're Not Sure You'll Finish: My Vegas AU? Maybe? Idk, I enjoyed it but I ran into a wall with it

WIP Resolution for 2024: I really want to get a better writing / editing balance because I am so bad at editing when something is finished bc its the last thing I wanna deal with.

[sparksnevadas]

I just finished reading the update and I am eating it up, I’m chewing on it like bubblegum and i am just waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa (/pos)

I’m too shy to send this off anon even tho we’re somehow mutuals, but holy hell your writing makes me so exited??(( Like I am grinning my silly little face off, you’re feeding us readers so well???? I thought it would just be the start of the preparations for the operation but I was then hit by the descriptions of everyone’s fits, then the last half??????

I wanna draw all of this chapter, like I may be stuck in a class rn but I am this 👌 close to getting out my tablet and finishing my old wips for this cuz I am ??????????? I would die for you rn, thank you Sparks for this blessing on get it henchboy wendnesday

AAAAA im shaking i love this (but also pspsps dont be afraid i dont bite)

man thats one of the nicest things someones said about my writing, thank you 🥺 im glad it makes you excited! And while planning for this chapter, i realized in a prev chapter i wrote “oh theres a party in a week” and then promptly forgot about that timeline with another chapter, so i was just like “alright lets just retcon this a little and get to partying!!!”

Also im very surprised anyone has wips for gihasm at all, im honored! 👉👈 if you ever end up posting them, please feel free to tag me <3

HAPPY GET IT HENCHBOY WEDNESDAY

[sidesteppostinghours]

WIP its-not-Wednesday-but-close-enough

tagged by @autistic-sidestep! thank you for the tag :D i have,,, so many wips rn. pulp stop starting a million projects challenge. all of these are very rough, and a lot of them feature other steps, but i wanted to share a few :]

for writing, ive got these:

“What the hell, man!” Mitchel hisses. He’s let go, but he hasn’t bothered lowering his voice. Too loud, but real. Caine groans, pulling themselves up from the mattress. At least it wasn’t the floor– this could’ve hurt a lot worse. They wince at the throb in their shoulder as they reach for the wall, probing for a light switch. When he flicks it on reality re-establishes itself once more.  It’s Caine’s room, familiarly bare-bones. There’s only a singular twin sized bed in one corner of the room and a desk just across, with a heap of laundry they haven’t bothered to do taking up the chair. Mitchel stands on the mattress in the middle, both parts pissed and bleary eyed. His cheek is a lightish colour that’s a telltale sign it’s going to bruise, and a portion of his blanket stubbornly clings onto his shoulder. There’s no threat in here, or at least nothing more threatening than Mitchel annoyed. The knowledge doesn’t stop the blood pounding in their ears.

-caine wakes up and gets jumpscared by @hyper-pixels mitchel. they react to this calmly.

Marshal Steel has hair stuck in his finger joints. That's the first thing Daniel noticed when he came in to work this morning. Steel has his civilian hands on, which is normal when he has admin work. Those civilian hands will usually have hair in it too, mostly from Spoon. That's also normal. What's not normal is the colour; because instead of the odd tufts of grey fur Daniel's used to seeing scattering Steel's joints, this is a single, longer strand that he's sure wasn't left on purpose. Because the hair strand is brown. Suspiciously similar to Ortega's own brown hair.

-herald is suspicious that his boss is having another secret relationship with a pretty old man, but its none of his business! not at all. thats why hes eavesdropping on them from the breakroom pantry.

“What are you two talking about?” Ortega jerks, nearly spilling coffee all over Wei, tearing a curse out of him as he yanks his head to the direction of the voice.  Speak of the devil. Caine glances between the two, head cocked. When did he get here? Ortega doesn't remember inviting him, and nobody told him he was coming either. Not that Ortega isn't happy to see him, but the timing… “Dios mio, Spot, how long have you been standing there?” he mutters. He gives his coffee a once over, but nothing's spilled.  He turns back to Caine and double takes. The poor guy looks like he's just run a marathon– he's drenched in his own sweat. He's not wearing his raggedy sweater, for once. Instead, he's got a skintight suit with a simple white tee over it.

-a multi-pov fic featuring the same conversation, but told from the perspective of ortega, chen, and caine. trying to practice voices with it, and so far its been fun digging into each of them!

as for art wips:

-arde and vera based on the song "the villain i appear to be"! i actually made this today after playing the new revelations demo lmfao. i do not remember what arde looks like 😔 im so sorry ive done you a disservice

the next two have blood+mild gore in them, so im throwing them under the cut!

-cyrus gets Fucked Up by a dream version of fawn from @villainsidestep, based on this absolutely vile(/pos) soul read of him:

because why not fuck him up even more??

-mitchel painting i have yet to put down colours for that i am lovingly dubbing "cannibalism (NOT ROMANTIC)". chew it out with your teeth mitchel!!!!

ill be tagging everybody mentioned in the post, plus @idlenight, @disastersteps, and maybe @euelios if you all wanna give this a shot?

[jessica-writes22]

Hi, it’s That (or Chiyo) coming to wish you a happy Worldbuilding Wednesday!

My questions for you are:

Do you write with any magic systems? Are there any pre-existing magic systems you take inspiration from to create them? Examples of pre-existing magic systems include the magic systems of Harry Potter, Fantastic Beasts, DC, Marvel, etc.

Do you deal with any creatures? What’s your favorite creature you’ve created, and what are some of its characteristics? This can include popular creatures that you’ve remade into your own version.

Do you create any cultures for people in your fantastical WIPs? Do you have any aspects of these cultures that you love but will probably never be mentioned in the final draft? Tell me about them!

Heyy happy WBW!!!! Thanks for the asks :)

Question 1:

So I created my whole magic system from scratch, but I definitely did look at others for inspiration. So for harry potter I loved the way that the spells were cast and how they are in Latin. So for mine, I put my spells in Latin also to make them sound cooler lol. Another thing is I loved how fantastic beasts has so many cool creatures, I aim to make a bunch for my wip as well!!

Question 2:

Yes, I deal with creaturs here are some I have rn, and I plan to make more!!! Fearlings: Fears minions. They are made of people's fears. They are a grayish-black colour and can float, walk and shapeshift into someone's worst fear. Spirit Pets: Are essentially the sins/virtues soul stone, but help to guide them instead of boosting their power. And depending on which kingdom they are in the spirit pets are different sizes, they are larger in their own kingdom + depending on their sins emotion The Twin Dragons: It's said that two dragons, one good and one evil, look after Avaidia's knowledge. They have been around since the birth of time, but have one been recorded in brief sightings. Echidna-like thing: I want to make a spiky mole porcupine thing, that helps with the harvesting in Marges Kingdome!!! Gotta work this out sometime!

Question 3:

Cultures are probably the hardest thing for me. I want each of the kingdom's cultures to be based on where that sin/virtue is from on earth, plus relate to the climate it's in! So I am still working those out. Honestly, if anyone has any tips it would be much appreciated cuz I'm kinda stuck :)

[crushpdf]

wip wednesday thursday

@behindtheatlantic tagged me to post a bit of a current wip! i have been stretched so thin lately i cannot even think about writing fic rn 😖 which means i am so very, very overdue on @ohlynchs‘s birthday fic!!!

She wants to see, wants to see it all happening, but **** is still stroking her cheek, reminding her she’s immobilized until she ********. So she pushes her *** back, meeting ********’s *******, squirming her hips to find pleasant places inside her. Her toes slip, her legs kick out behind her, everything in her body losing control as ******** works her magic. ***** slips her ******* to the side, and then instead of rubbing cotton she’s suddenly rubbing ****, and when ********’s ****** ****** all the way between her ******, over her ****, and back down to her *****, she *****.

😜 yes it’s gonna be Like That

okay fine here’s something for real

When Madox’s breath hitches June recognizes the sound. It’s the sound of herself, after all. The sound they all make when fingers—their fingers—graze that spot on their waist.

lmaooooo happy clonecest thursday

[reyescarlos]

Kim! My friend!

I wanted you to know that your amazing WIP Wednesday post from earlier this week is still on mind, thank you for sharing it!

I adore your stories, so much so that they stay with me long after I’ve read them the first, second, or 100th time.

Since reading your WIP snippet, I’ve been trying to pinpoint what exactly it is about your writing that makes your stories burrow their way into my heart. Then it dawned on me today (while listening to a JP Saxe song that funnily enough made me think “This would be definitely be a Kim fic.” 😂).

Your stories truthfully capture the beauty in the messiness that is real love. All of it: the trying and the failing, the second guessing, the regret, and the insecurities. And my favorite part? The reality of what it is for two imperfect, complex people to be bold and brave enough to choose one another and say “I want you to see me and my mess. I want to stand in your mess with you. Because I trust you. Because somehow it works. Because it’s US.” You really write the shit out of that lol.

This is why the ending of your stories are so emotionally rewarding. As the reader, we’ve felt everything - the fear, hurt, anger, angst, regret, sadness, and then finally the joy. That’s all because of your writing, you’ve brilliantly led us through every emotion alongside the characters. So yes, we’re also emotionally compromised while reading but we love it and keep coming back for more. Lol. This is also why I never shut up about No Right to Love You (and I never will). 😂

I’m gonna zip it now because this got suuuuper long. You’re the absolute best, keep on shining and putting us through the emotional wringer.✨ I appreciate you so much!! Looking forward to your next story and having it emotionally wreck me! 😭🥺🙃🤣🙌🏾😁

CAN YOU HEAR ME SCREAMING ALL THE WAY IN CHICAGO??? BECAUSE I AM ABSOLUTELY LOSING MY MIND RN, JSYK! Asdfghjkl SONIA omfg this is just !!!!!! Can every Monday be as nice as this??? Coming online to a beautiful and kind and truly AMAZINGLY MIND BLOWING message like this?! I swear to god, my face is like legit hurting from smiling so hard right now.

I can't even tell you how much this means to me. Like dude, seriously. Getting back into fic writing has been such a great stress relief over this past year. And to know that these little scenarios with my favorite characters that take over my head so much that I have to pour them into a doc can make someone else happy too is so beyond anything I could have ever asked for.

It's so funny you pointed out That Song™️ because it's seriously so high on my list of songs to write to. And apparently this is so much my brand that you can associate me with that song hahaha. That's a flex imo and I'm honored! Oh man, I'm shook right now. This message legit has knocked me out completely! I will never get tired of writing the super emotional shit. Give me ALL. THE. ANGST!! I need all those highs and lows. That's the good stuff right there. If I'm not suffering alongside them, something's not right haha. That fic will always have a special place in my heart for several reasons, this being one of them!

Goodness gracious, this was the ultimate way to come online. Thank you so damn much, Sonia! Oh boy, I don't post nearly as much as I'd like to but it means the world that you get so excited about anything I manage to share 🥺😭 I promise to continue leaving you emotionally compromised. It's my contribution to this fandom and I'm sticking with it.

[artistformerlyknown]

Happy WIP Wednesday yet again, the march of time is endless! What do you do while you write? Are you a specific playlist writer, or a noise in the background writer? Do you have any shows you watch, or environment you need? Do you write while you're doing other stuff or do you carve out some time just for your WIP? Paint me a picture of your process! 💙💙💙

happy … wip day! this seems more appropriate. still running thru these from weeks ago but i’m feeling ~funky~ rn while writing so i thought why not answer one to decompress?

i am 100% a specific playlist writer! i have to make playlists whenever i try writing a new verse or new characters or a new couple or find a really good playlist made by somebody ELSE (very often made by @holdendadcliffe because our interests align a lot and also wow does leo make great playlists!)

i exclusively write creatively in my bed on my laptop with absolutely nothing else other than the words and my carefully crafted/selected playlist. i cant usually get really deep into writing without music playing which is true for all of my writing ever which sucks for school stuff because i can’t have music!

favourite method of writing motivation is absolutely using a bot who does sprints on discord because holy shit do they make me write a lot! they’re absolutely the main method i use when i have to really focus and get some wordcounts up!!

thank you for the lovely question!! (also if any of my friends or whatnot see this: absolutely tell me about your creative process somewhere i AM interested)

[vyther16]

wip wednesday

hello it is a reasonable time today and i am giving you some Lang Dianxia/The Wolf content bc... the ending. I started writing this after I watched ep 46 instead of watching 47-49. Spoilers for up to that point under the cut

so, this is called “Fuck the last three eps fic” in my docs, so yeah. Basic premise is I looked at Wolfie and Xing’er being happy, said “they deserve to stay like that,” and made the rest of the characters do narrative backflips to keep them there.

first scene is Ji Chong convincing Yao Ji to stage a coup.

“He’s dying, isn’t he?” Ji Chong says, leaning against a tree. “You and Zhaixing wouldn’t have freaked out so badly is he wasn’t dying.”

“Why do you care, Chuan-wang?” Yao Ji retorts. It’s probably meant to be scathing, but it falls flat, betrayed by the thread of a tremor in her voice, the red rims of her eyes.

“Because if he dies, Zhaixing will die too. She’ll waste away with a broken heart.”

“He has six months left, providing he doesn’t strain himself. Which he will, because he wants to save Si-dianxia.”

Ji Chong scratches his nose, thinking. If Bo-wang goes after Si-dianxia, Zhaixing will follow him, and Ji Chong didn’t divorce her just to let her run off and sacrifice herself. 

“What if we saved him?” he says, thinking aloud now. “You have Chu Kui’s trust, I’ve snuck into the palace before, we could do it.” He tugs a hand through his hair; he’s left it out of its topknot, instead pulling it back into the ponytail he’d worn during the seven years he was Ji Chong and no one else. Zhui Ri is perched on his shoulder.

Yao Ji, in contrast, looks almost like she could be a princess, with her perfectly manicured hands and immaculate hair. “I can save Si-dianxia or I can look for a cure for Bo-wang. I can’t do both.”

“I just need you to get me to the capitol,” he says. He can do the rest of it by himself; he’d spent enough time helping the second prince before he fell in love with Zhaixing. He knows how to get around the man’s security.

“Don’t be an idiot. She may not be in love with you, but you’re still her friend. If I can’t save Bo-wang, she’ll need someone to help her, and it won’t be me.”

“I know what I’m doing, Grand Diviner. I’m not planning on getting anyone killed.”

“Yes you are. You’re going to kill Chu Kui and Chu Yougui. Don’t lie to me.”

“I think Zhaixing, Bo-wang, and Si-dianxia should get to decide what to do with them. Or my father, at least. I’m not their family or the princess of the previous dynasty or the king of Jin. I’m just a second prince who wants to protect his people.”

Yao Ji snorts. “You’re less prideful than I remember. It suits you.”

“Will you help me?” “

Fine.”

Second scene is Ji Chong telling Si-dianxia he carried out a coup on his behalf

“I got you a present, your highness,” Ji Chong says when he sees Si-dianxia’s eyes open, dumping the sack he shoved Chu Yougui into on the floor in front of his bed.

“Ji Chong-ge?” The incredulousness in his voice is almost hilarious, but Ji Chong is too keyed up. “

In the flesh. Aren’t you going to open your present?”

Si-dianxia jerks out of his bed, revealing that he's fully dressed underneath his covers. “Is san-ge alright?”

“Bo-wang is alive. And with any luck, he’ll live long enough to see you become his emperor.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, your old man kicked it earlier this evening, and your second brother is, shall we say, indisposed,” he kicks the bag for emphasis, “and your third brother has no interest in the crown, so…”

“Not that part,” he says, “the part before that. San-ge is dying?”

“Yao Ji is looking for a cure as we speak, but unless he finds out that you’re safe, he’ll insist on trying to save you, which will kill him faster.”

“Yao Ji will find a cure. She has to. She’s the best with poisons and medicines in the whole palace.” Si-dianxia sits down with a thump, his hair bouncing off his shoulders with the impact. “Why did you bring a giant sack into my palace? Wait, no, how did you even get into my palace?”

“You all really need to up your security. It really is far too easy to get into all your fancy palaces.” He scratches his nose, sitting in a chair that moves back as he does so. It startles him, but then he realizes it’s si-dianxia’s wheelchair for when he’s pretending to be comatose. “And consider the sack my personal coronation gift.”

Si-dianxia kneels next to it, carefully pulling up the opening. “Er-ge? Did you kill him!”

“Of course not. He’s just unconscious.”

 “Why!”

“Because he’ll contest your right to the throne, and once he has it, he’ll kill you and everyone else. He’ll be just like your father, but more desperate.”

“What about Yun-wangfei? Is she okay? She doesn’t have anything to do with this!”

“She’s fine. She’s asleep in her bed still.”

this is long in part to make up for last week and in part because I legitimately could decide which part i liked better. They’re both far too dialogue-heavy rn, but that will eventually get fixed. 

I am making no promises on the “Screw the last eps” fic bc I’m not putting that much pressure on myself. I’ll finish breathe au and my other assorted JoL fics about the time testing season starts and i’m not putting any sort of fic deadlines on myself then