#writer.txt
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*uses this blog like a diary*
dear diary, i would like matsukawa issei to rawdog me <3
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another one for the "it was supposed to be a one-shot" boysssss (it's not finished)
palavras = words
#ive been working in it for a week now i think - maybe a little more - and it's becoming a monster#this is a kakagai au one#that I'm having too much fun with#and adding so much fucking lore#hdjsjdksjf 😭😭😭#syd rambles#writer.txt
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so new fic maybe incoming
heyyyy sooooo
Its been a bit huh
Ok long story short ive got a job as a mail carrier, so thats awesome. Only downside is its gonna keep me BUSYYYYY. But I've found that I'm having an easier time writing than making art! So new fic idea!
Shit under the cut, children pls go away
So new fic idea
Mando hits up a sex hotline and its an oc bc me do wat me want
Also the oc is a trans dude, ALSO bc me do wat me want
The oc will have a name, a bit of a history thats pretty generic, but otherwise he's gonna be a blank slate. As a trans dude myself ill try my best to write something that is relatable, but i do only have my own experience to refer to. Ill have more of a detailed trigger warning as I write more.
Lemme know what yall think!
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“𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲… 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧”
— 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐀𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧 𝐏𝐨𝐞 - 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐞𝐢𝐚, 𝟏𝟖𝟑𝟖
・゜゜・．🤎📜☕️ 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭[𝐬] 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐤𝐞𝐲: 🧸 - 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 🎻- 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 🍪 - 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭/𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 🦇 - 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫/𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤, 🦉 - 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫, 🥢 - 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜, 🥠 - 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜, 🐈⬛ - 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬/𝐟𝐰𝐛, 🍂 - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝
👒 - 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, ☕️ - 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 👞 - 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 🪵 - 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 🧺 - 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 🏹 - 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 🐌 - 𝐨𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
🕯️ - 𝐥𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 🚬 - 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 🥥 - 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫
♟️ - 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬, 🗝️ - 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭, 📻 - 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬
📞 - 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐮, 🏛️ - 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, ⚰️ - 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐮, 🪐 - 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐮
･ﾟﾟ･｡🪵🍂🧸 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
: ̗̀➛ 🧸🎻🍪🦇🦉🥢🥠🐈⬛☕️🪵🏹 🕯️🚬🥥♟️; 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 🍂✏️ @honey-andmilktea - 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.
: ̗̀➛ 🤎🪵🪶 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭! @danowh0re
: ̗̀➛ 🤎🪵🪶 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝟎𝟕.𝟐𝟒.𝟐𝟑
: ̗̀➛ 🤎🪵🪶 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝟎𝟕.𝟐𝟒.𝟐𝟑
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navigation
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subject: write to me. oneshot
maniac. oneshot
© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023
#bts reactions#bts x reader#bts x y/n#bts x you#bts imagines#bts drabbles#bts scenarios#namjoon x reader#jin x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader#bts angst#bts fluff#bts smut#bts drabble#bts mtl
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I want it to be known that Gillian Harvey canonically uses this:
[image description] a clear plastic fountain pen with a metal nib, full of bright fluorescent yellow highlighter ink, pictured beside a box of refill ink cartridges. [end of image description]
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assorted akaashi hcs
this boy will SHOVEL his food when he eats he is one hungry man
he is impossible to wake up in the morning. getting up is fine, but convincing him to keep his eyes open? not gonna happen
likes tea more than coffee
if bokuto rubs his back when they’re laying on the couch/in bed/whatever, he’s asleep in three minutes flat
(it’s not his fault bokuto‘s hands feel so big and warm and strong!!!!!!!!)
he speaks english well and knows at least one other language
has studyblr worthy handwriting
bubblegum pop. that is all
considering his workaholic tendencies, he very easy falls into a diet of frozen/instant foods sometimes
(it’s a good thing bokuto knows how to cook)
"why would i wear pants at home? it’s not like anyone’s gonna see me?"
says fuck by the hour
#akaashi keiji#haikyuu!!#hq!!#bokuaka#pls accept my chaos man akaashi hcs#yes hes pretty but hes also tired as fuck#writer.txt#if ppl like this ill do more#maybe ppl can give me character suggestions 👀#text
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beidou calling her strap her cock >>>>>
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writer that's good at writing dialogue because of how much they plan conversations in their head beforehand
#i was getting impressed at how much I've managed to write for this heavy with dialogue part and then this came to mind sjajdjskfjdk#syd rambles#writer.txt
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Fic Concept
Y'all know the drill, no childrens I'm far too old y'all bye
CW: Zombie apocalypse, OCs (??? EGADS, WRETCHED VIBES. Jk y'all are cowards for not interacting with peoples' work with OCs, mine included. <3), and weed. Lots of weed.
So anyway back when the cast of TLoU the show was pitched I was like 'oh no. My obsession with Joel will increase.' And at the time I was also coming down from my manic-high point of my obsession with Mando,so I was like 'well fuck I still like the dude's whole vibes and I know I will EVEN MORE. What do??'
Then I started smoking weed regularly and was like 'oh shit, what if weed dealer during zombocalypse'
Thus Green's Pastures was spawned in the hellscape of my brain
So the idea is this. At the beginning of the pandemic when I first pitched this idea to a friend they said, 'yeah the pandemic has really shown me how valuable weed dealers are' and I was like 'yeah shit they are.' Thus I got it in my head that a weed dealer would probably be seen as a VALUABLE resource during a zombie apocalypse, and I made a character named Koryn Dunn, who most people call 'Green' (For really funny and not at all stupid reasons)
Green has managed to keep a plot of land for growing purposes, where they have an entire pack of dogs and two roommates who've been with them since the start of The Event. One day Green wakes up to their roommates not being there and a few of the dogs are gone. This is normally not an issue, but then one of them turns up with three people with their hands tied up and all of their possessions taken because the leader of the trio was 'stealing ammo'
The leader who has two children with him.
Enter the leader: Benedicto, aka Ben or Benny, a retired military man who was forced back into the role of a soldier following The Event. He's not exactly like Joel but ANYWAY
the whole fic is just about the groups merging and Green having to leave their pastures for
wait for it
greener pastures
ANYWAY felt like sharing it, might write like 50k words about it then delete HAHAHA
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𝐈 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝. 𝐈’𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐢𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞; 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧
𝐅𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐳 𝐊𝐚𝐟𝐤𝐚
・゜゜・．🤎📜☕️ 𝐛𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐤𝐞𝐲: 🧸 - 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟, 🎻- 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 🍪 - 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭/𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 🦇 - 𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫/𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤, 🦉 - 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐨𝐫, 🥢 - 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜, 🥠 - 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜, 🐈⬛ - 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐭𝐬/𝐟𝐰𝐛, 🍂 - 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝
👒 - 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, ☕️ - 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 👞 - 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 🪵 - 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 🧺 - 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 🏹 - 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 🐌 - 𝐨𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
🕯️ - 𝐥𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 🚬 - 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫, 🥥 - 𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫
♟️ - 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬, 🗝️ - 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭, 📻 - 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬
📞 - 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐮, 🏛️ - 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐮, ⚰️ - 𝐦𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐮, 🪐 - 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐮
･ﾟﾟ･｡🪵🍂🧸 𝐨𝐭𝟕!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬/𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐬
: ̗̀➛ 🧸🎻🍪🦉🥢☕️🐌♟️🏛️; 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐨𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧’𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐧𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬.
╰┈➤ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏: 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭
╰┈➤ 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐: 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…
･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡🪵🍂🧸 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧 [𝐫𝐦]!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬/𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡🪵🍂🧸 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤𝐣𝐢𝐧 [𝐣𝐢𝐧]!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬/𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡🪵🍂🧸 𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢 [𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚]!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬/𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
･ﾟﾟ･｡🪵🍂🧸 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤 [𝐣-𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞]!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬/𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡🪵🍂🧸 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐧!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬/𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡🪵🍂🧸 𝐤𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐠 [𝐯]!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬/𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
･ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ･｡🪵🍂🧸𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐬/𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗ 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧…!
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ 🍂✏️ @honey-andmilktea - 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭, 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐞𝐭𝐜.
: ̗̀➛ 🤎🪵🪶 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭! @danowh0re
: ̗̀➛ 🤎🪵🪶 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧: 𝟎𝟕.𝟏𝟓.𝟐𝟑
: ̗̀➛ 🤎🪵🪶 𝐮𝐩𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝: 𝟎𝟕.𝟏𝟖.𝟐𝟑
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you're a writer.txt
━ type: bts x gn! reader ━ navigation
━ about: fluff ━ pictures taken from Pinterest
━ previously posted on soraviii
NAMJOON: “Swiftly.”
“Eeeehhhhh.”
“Rapidly.”
“Eeeeeeeehhhh.”
“With increasing speed.”
“Now that one,” you laugh dryly. “Was the worst.”
He scoffs, glaring at you from the side of the couch, and proceeds to toss a newspaper onto the angular coffee table.
“Well, if you’re going to be unpleasant,” he remarks, pretending to leave. Immediately you jump out of the seat, pencils scattering in all directions, and hang on his elbow, much to his chagrin, disappointment, and overall annoyance.
“No, please, I promise I’ll behave,” you plead, swinging back and forth. “Just help a fellow struggling artist out. Oh, please, oh, Great Namjoon!”
For a second, the facade of unwillingness cracks, and his lips quirk in a fleeting smile but he’s quick to cement it.
“A struggling artist, my foot,” he growls. “You’ve been sitting on your ass and watching Tik-Tok videos instead of revising.”
The said ass gets a pinch and you yelp but have no excuse for it.
“I was,” softly, you agree. “I was simply enraptured by your thirst traps.”
Just for good measure, you fan your eyelashes but unfortunately, you’re at the point of your relationship, where Joon has smelt your bullshit for so long, he’s developed immunity towards it.
“Enraptured?” he smirks. “Now you’re sounding like a writer.”
Derisively shoving him away, you stomp towards the desk, to glare at the jumbled mess of words that wear the thinnest veneer of a masquerading plot.
“Okay, see how you like when I dedicate my book to my editor, my friends, the dog our neighbour owns, anyone but you!...meanie.”
Not even a second passes when with a chuckle, Namjoon leans down to lay a soft kiss against your neck.
“Okay, okay, struggling, starving artist, I’ll help you but just for an hour, okay? We have to sleep.”
Seeing your rainbow in the rain, you hum agreeably.
“An hour will do.”
“So…Abruptly?”
“Nah.”
“Hastily?”
“No,” you take one of the pencils thrown haphazardly on the desk and tap the rubber end against your lips. “What about - swiftly?”
“That’s the first thing I said!”
YOONGI: Your apartment is haunted and yet unfortunately you’re not writing a horror story and hence discard this discovery for later use. All you see and hear right now is the rain in the Canadian plains and not the traffic outside. For you, the desk is a rock, the papers littered with notes, plot points, character names, and vapid "use-this-not-this" notes make the ground.
You reach to your left, grasping around thin air, not daring to even look away. Writing was magic and often involved time travel - you looked away for one second, and the next thing you know it’s been three months and instead of half a book, you have three pages.
To your great misery, no matter which corner of the desk you shove your greedy, clutching hand, it simply grasps no cup of coffee. Dejected, you can only sigh to yourself. The ghost must have taken it.
And yet mere minutes pass and you can smell the wafting scent of a good cup of coffee. At this point, you could swear that it produces a cartoon-like effect, wisping around you enticing tendrils that flow up your nose, reducing your brain to mush. Blindly, you stretch your fingers, grasp the cup, and drink. For a two year old that sort of thing would be quite the achievement. Shame you’re not two…Physically at least. Yoongi always laughed that your mind was two years old. Starkly recalling the fact that there was such a thing as Min Yoongi and your boyfriend, both of whom created a circle in a Venn diagram, you at last drag your eyes away from the cursor and with a crick in the neck, find him standing in the doorway, sporting a tender, almost imperceptible smile.
“Ow,” you groan, putting a palm to soothe the aching muscles. “You’re home early this evening. Been here long?”
“Give or take two days,” he laughs and does so even louder when your eyes bug out of your forehead. Blinking repeatedly you realize the day and that, just as a fact in passing, Yoongi’s vacation started two days ago.
“No!” you gasp. “No, I went to sleep and all!”
“And didn’t notice me in the slightest,” he forces out in between lingering pauses of laughter. “You kept muttering about being haunted.”
“No!” you hide in the palm of your hands, mortified. “You were the ghost?”
“The fact that your first assumption is a literal undead specter and not your boyfriend taking care of you is highly upsetting,” he shook his head pitifully. You rise to your feet, throwing your arms around his neck.
“I’m sorry, baby. I was…somewhere else.”
“No worries,” he pats your back, twirling a strand of your hair when you part. “I know what it’s like. You’re ready to join the world of human society or are you with the cursed villagers still?”
“I’m with my boyfriend. Promise,” you kiss his cheek, quickly darting to close the laptop, just not before making sure for the thousandth time that it was all properly saved.
“Good,” he hums. “As amusing as it is to watch you be so absorbed, I’d like to cash in my boyfriend privileges.”
“What unfair deal will you stick me with?” you bemoan and he snakes an arm around your waist.
“Just a light massage. I’ve got some kinks to work out.”
“In all meanings of the word,” you mutter underneath your nose but he hears it and squeezes your waist tighter with a cocky smile.
JIN: “You don’t have to come. I’m alright coming home and celebrating with you. Privately," with a steady hand, you lay the final touches on your makeup and peer at him through the reflection of the mirror. Other than a form-fitting suit, Jin was wearing a deeply conflicted expression and to him, it didn't matter how many times you assured him of the opposite - he felt like a bad partner.
"You've always supported me," he muttered. "Came to greet me even when people were rude to you."
"You know, I don't care for most people," you shrugged, sliding a small bag onto the crook of your elbow. "So it doesn't much matter."
"Okay, psycho," he tries to humor, either you or himself who knows but either way, it falls flatter than wanted. As he's leaning against the wall, you press a kiss to his cheek, wiping the faint smudge of the gloss away from his skin.
"Whatever you decide, I won't take offense," you remarked in a low voice.
"But it's your night!"
"And my night never started or ended with strangers."
You shudder when the cold night seized your body, quickly rushing towards the car. Glimpsing at the clockface, you draw a huge sigh of relief. Unexpectedly, you were still on schedule. God knows why, but for some reason, you had the bizarre habit of being late to your own novel reveal.
"To the arts center, boss?" the driver inquires politely and you cast him a soft, welcoming smile.
"Exactly."
You give one last glimpse towards the apartment building before the car speeds away into the relative quiet of a Thursday evening.
For a writer, your speech was rather unimaginative, simple, and straight to the point. Thank you all for coming, enjoy the cocktails, enjoy the conversation and let the work speak for itself. At the end of the whole ordeal which was publishing a book, you were dry on words and preferred the ones that mattered, ones caught in the pages of two thick covers. You gift gracious smiles to all those who approach you, even the reporters who manage to irritate every single ounce of your nervous system. Good grief, how did Jin manage this day and night, you sighed, no wonder the man treated gatherings as a plague. As you stand to the side, successfully enjoying some peace of mind, a bouquet of plump flowers swims into your eyesight.
"Good evening, beautiful," Jin exhales smoothly, biting down on a cheeky grin. "You wouldn't mind if I kidnap you for a moment?"
Beaming, you cross your arms around his waist.
"I'm all yours," you purr. "After all that's what the story was about."
Jin's ears gain some notable blush despite the valiant efforts to remain unbothered.
"They killed their kidnapper," he objected demurely but that made your smile all the wider.
"They were a stronger person than I am."
HOSEOK: "You should publish," he belts out of the blue, forcing you to raise your gaze up from the paper and focus on the other side of the bed, where he sat, phone discarded in his lap and eyes boring into yours almost fearfully.
"What, why?" you laugh before picking up the sentence where you left it off.
"You write all the time. It's like you're addicted to it," he shrugs, presumably just so, baring no other intentions, though he was also using that "soft" voice, the one he wields whenever he wanted to change your mind. "You have entire books, completed, ready to go. Collecting dust."
"Writing is my hobby, similar to how some people knit, nothing more to it," brushing him off, you try to force your mind to retain two completely different trains of thought. One - why was Hobi using his "soft" voice and the second one - the amount of mud generated in a 19th-century backstreet alley. A completely normal thing to ponder about when in bed with an unfairly attractive man. Okay, maybe he wasn't too delusional about the addiction. With a sigh, you push the scribbled notebook away.
"I just enjoy writing. I'm afraid that if you want to publish anything that I compose, it would have to be posthumous," you scrunch your face in mocking sorrow. "You can be the grieving widow, shining a light on your partner's life's work."
His eyes glint unkindly in the muted bedroom light.
"That's not even remotely funny, ______________," he scolds. "But don't you want to...express yourself? Show your talent to the world?"
Tucking your feet under covers and pressing against the warmth of his chest, you give it a sweeping thought but remain just as indifferent.
"Showmanship is your thing," you mutter, feeling the slight tickle of his fingers brushing against your hip. "I put everything on these pages. I repaint my own life, sometimes the life that I want, or think I wanted..." at this, you trail off, thinking of the multitudes of worlds, finished and unfinished, modern and ancient, everything from the horrifying deep of the unknown to the soft passing of loving Tuesdays.
"I don't feel comfortable sharing them just yet," you conclude with a sigh. "Maybe one day, just...not right now."
"You share them with me," Hoseok notes tenderly and you smile at his obliviousness.
"Well, obviously, I share them with you," you say and the space between his eyebrows wrinkles in confusion. You lay in silence, drumming your fingers against his chest, at times of lingering pauses feeling the steady beat of his heart.
"What are you thinking about?" he hums, tightening his embrace.
"19th-century mud."
He snorts.
JIMIN: At this point, you began to regret ever giving him the manuscript. It's 2 in the morning and your head thrums with lack of sleep but the side of Jimin's bed still remains brightly lit as his feet occasionally kick at the duvet. Glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, he nibbles at the skin of his fingers, eyes breezing through the pages. Any moment now he'll start sweating.
"Stop that," you admonish him gently, pushing the hand away from his mouth. Dazed, he stares at you.
"Is it morning already?" he asks, croaking almost.
"If it would be morning, I'd kill you," you groan, plucking the book from his hands.
"Hey, I was reading that!"
"And now you're not," you retort casually, flinging your proverbial baby in the nondescript corner of the room, wrapping yourself like a liana around Jimin's squirming figure.
"Just one more chapter," he pleads.
"No."
With a defeated sigh, he slumps in your arms, only stretching briefly to flick off the light in what could only be described as a petulantly displeased manner. Darkness envelopes you whole.
"You worked hard on this story," he grumbles. "Shouldn't you treat it with more care?"
You don't give in to his attempts on provoking you, on dragging the night longer, instead, you simply let your eyes fall shut.
"That story is in my head and currently that head is turning into granola from lack of sleep so if you want to be a good fanboy, let me sleep."
"Fine," he huffs before whispering, now far timider. "You will sign a copy for me, right? When it's officially out?"
If not for you holding him down, he'd be twirling his thumbs.
"Babe, when the time comes, I'll sign your ass," you promise only partly joking. "Just, please, shut up and go to sleep."
"This needs to be taken out, I don't like this, and what the hell is this plot point all about?"
Rolling your eyes, the drone of your editor becomes a vague chatter, a creek gurgling somewhere in the wild that puts you in a state of removed consciousness. All the more startling was the phone call buzzing against your thigh. Jumping out of the seat, you glance at the screen and exit the room despite the tantrum unfolding behind you.
Jimin didn't usually call mid-day, too ensnared in his own duties, and looking at the screen now, you find you don't like this new development as your mind jubilantly assumed the worst.
"Hi," you greet him anxiously. "Is everything okay?"
Only sobs could be heard from the other line. Immediately, your hands grow cold and your knees buck.
"Jimin! What happened?!"
At last, through a vicious array of snot and breathy pants, he cries out.
"I'm dating a murderer!"
For a second you stand bewildered, temporarily lagging behind. Nonetheless, when it all catches up to you, creating a large, sensible pattern, you curse, drawing a heavy sigh of relief. He must have finished reading the story.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me."
But he keeps crying further and even knowing it was far from being anything serious, your heart clenches at the sound of it.
"It's alright," you try to comfort him. "Put the manuscript down and go for a walk - wait!" you glance at the watch around your wrist. Jimin's present. "Shouldn't you be rehearsing?"
"I told them I'm not feeling good and took a day off to finish reading," he wails and you can feel the telltale sign of an oncoming headache. "Only for you to kill them in the end!" Through the endless weeping, you can only discern a few phrases of "favorite characters" and "cruelty".
"Change the ending!" he demands and for a second you remove the phone away from your ear, grimace at his antics before diving back into the conversation. Nonsense of a conversation.
"I'm not going to do that," numbly, you reply. "That's how the story goes. They die watching a sunrise."
"And you killed the dog too!"
"Yes," resigned completely, you nod along despite him not being able to see it. "I killed the dog too. You'll have to make peace with it."
For a lingering moment, there hangs only silence, before he sniffles, thoroughly dejected.
"Your heart knows no mercy," he accuses, then adds, begrudgingly sincere. "Love you."
"Love you more," you smile and then shake your head when he ends the call.
TAEHYUNG: It was barely any secret, Taehyung wanted attention. Hell, ask him and he'll say so but this was not attention per se. He was not watched out of loving thought but of clinical intent. Uncannily, he felt too much like a lab rat in the middle of his apartment, pouring milk into cereal. Warily lifting his gaze, he meets your deadset, cold eyes and flinches.
"Good morning?" he utters. You keep staring at him for a moment, before gathering your notebook and leaving the kitchen without so much as a word. Or a vowel even. Lifting a spoon of cereal to his mouth Taehyung wondered - had he done something wrong? You don't necessarily shy away from his touch or remain silent should he ask something, despite the answers being a tad absent-minded so he shrugs it away. Odd moon phases perhaps. But days pass and he feels a shudder rack his spine, freezing him mid-way with a bottle of water.
Leaning against the table, your eyes are set on him, observing his movements down to the most minuscule detail, wearing a face with zero expression. He puts down the bottle and awkwardly shuffles out of the room. When the evening settles he finds you slumbering unsightly on the sofa, hair in the face, mouth open, and notebook precariously perched upon your lap, with the pen rolled away. As any good boyfriend, he takes a picture to aggravate you with later and moves in to stir you awake, only for his gaze to catch sight of various names scribbled on the pages of the notebook. Delicately he wrenches it free and reads, recalling that for the past few weeks you seemed to be glued to this thing. To his bewilderment, he begins to piece together a string of plot, and listing back to the beginning he realizes this was your very own story.
When you wake, back a knotted mess, the sound of giggling could be faintly heard from the kitchen. Rubbing at your tired eyes, you find Taehyung sitting by the table, and with no small amount of horror you recognize your writing pad clutched between his grimy fingers.
"Give that back," you cry out, snatching it away from him in an instant, even hiding it behind your back, hoping that out of sight out of mind was real. Though he tries to remain serious, his lips flutter with unshed laughter.
"I know it's bad. You don't have to rub it in," you grumble and he rushes to capture your face between his palms, irritatingly still laughing.
"It's not bad!" he assures, gaze softening at the sight of your anguish. "I just think it's so cute you based your main character on me."
You blink.
"You and Kaz have nothing in common."
He cocks an eyebrow, drawling an arid:
"Really?"
"You don't! Two completely different people."
"Brown, floppy hair," he lifts up one of his curls. "Brown eyes, likes jazz music."
"Lots of people like jazz music," you mumble underneath your nose and he tucks you into a hug.
"Sure, baby," he laughs, graciously ignoring your bristling. "I can't wait to read more."
You slumped in his arms, cheek lifting in a small smile. He just couldn't resist.
"Of me, obviously."
JUNGKOOK: "How fast do you think a person bleeds out after being shot?"
The question is posed so unconcernedly that it takes a while for Jungkook to register its meaning. When he does, the hand caressing your bare leg, laying in his lap, freezes. Even your eyes were still glued to the movie and he ponders whether you realized the question was even spoken out loud and not locked behind the confines of your mind.
"I don't know," he shrugs. "Depends where on the body, I think."
You hum and the conversation stops there.
"How much would it hurt to have this jammed into the eye?" you question once again out loud, holding a metal straw over the breakfast he cooked for you. Just as before, your face gains some level of absence and Jungkook quickly grasps it means you were not really here.
"A lot," he responds, suspecting and increasingly concerned about the possibility of you having intrusive thoughts. Yet when he voices this, you brush it aside, laughing that it was just a passing idea. Wary, he believes you, afraid of otherwise.
But then you mumble a name in your sleep. And it's not his name. Steam rising to his face, he can feel his blood boiling as you keep moaning someone else's name. At last his patience breaks. Roughly shaking you awake, he tongues at his cheek.
"What?" groggily, you mutter, desperately trying to process the situation. "What happened?"
"You were muttering in your sleep," hearing it now, Jungkook understands that it might sound just a little silly but obstinately, he keeps at it. "A name. Not mine."
However, instead of cursing him out or being annoyed, your gaze drops to the duvet, flustered.
"_________, the truth," he orders sternly. "Please."
You bite on your lip but ultimately crumple under his piercing stare and head hung low from shame, paddle towards the desk. Confused, he watches you open up your laptop and show him a document.
"Misfortunately, Yours," it read. "Chapter One. Drastic Consequences to a Hurried Decision Making."
"Oh, thank God," he gasps, dropping back on the bed as relief floods his system. "Thank you, ancestors."
"I don't see how they're a part of this," you grouse but it remains unheard.
For some reason, Jungkook doesn't stop thinking of that night as he pours through the entire neighborhood, in vain hopes of trying to find you. Deep snow has descended upon the world, coating everything in mountains of white obstruction. Obstruction which at this moment Jungkook desperately wanted to get rid of. Perhaps had he cheered more for you, helped you edit better...perhaps the outcome would have been different. Maybe the blow wouldn't have hit you this hard.
With freezing fingers, you numbly re-read, the last passage of the book review column, printed in the national newspaper.
"Misfortunately Yours" is nothing but pulpy, self-inflated scribble of an inexperienced pen person, writing out their fantasies on a page when it should be contained to archives of the dark internet. Offering to us, readers, nothing but ambiance, it lacks everything from characterization to a solid backstory or really anything to grip the audience's interest. 1 of 5 stars."
Well, that's that then.
"_____________! ____________!" a desperate voice calls from the distance and apathetically you meet it's familiar owner. Jungkook's jacket is unbuttoned and one end of his scarf is dragging against the shoveled snow. "Oh, baby!"
At the sound of his coos, the sting of repressed tears gnaws at your eyes.
"You're freezing," he exclaims, wrapping a scarf around your neck whilst wrenching you away from the bench. You really were cold.
"It's going to be okay," Jungkook whispers against the shell of your ear, rubbing his palms against your shoulders - warming you up. "It's going to be okay. Just don't give up. No one can decide whether you're a writer or not. That's entirely up to you."
On the way home, you toss the newspaper into the trash, without looking back.
© soraviii/soraviie 2022-2023
#bts reactions#bts scenarios#bts x reader#bts x you#namjoon x reader#namjoon x you#yoongi x reader#yoongi x you#jin x reader#jin x you#hoseok x reader#hoseok x you#jimin x reader#jimin x you#taehyung x reader#taehyung x you#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#bts reaction#bts fluff#bts scenario
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in episode 1 fours says someone told them they look like a sculpture by rodin? is there one in particular being referenced there or just in general they look like a bronze sculpture?
Rodin's The Thinker served as the initial inspiration but, truthfully, all of Rodin's bronze sculptures (the ones that are still a dark brown color, at least) look equally similar to Fours. We hope this sheds a bit of light on that!
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i like to call the fic im currently working on “akaashi ‘instagram stalking is okay because i’m just curious about who he is even though i only talked to him for fifteen minutes’ keiji”
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I was so absorbed in developing characters for my big AU that I accidentally wrote an entire prequel. Jesus.
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