
36 years old || she/her || cisgender womanSometimes I write stuff…mostly I rambleMasterlist! Networks: BangtanArmyNet
581 posts
I Literally. Just. Did This.

I literally. Just. Did this. 🙃🙃🙃🙃
Truly the all time funniest writer thing is when you're doing edits and you think to yourself "omg I've got the PERFeCT sentence to add right here!" and then you stick it in all excited, only to find that literally three lines down you have virtually that exact same sentence in the draft already.
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More Posts from Sabiekay
*siiiiiiiigh*

Me opening my WIP and discovering it did not write itself overnight

God this was so cute and precious. I love their banter, the little world of their relationship so well defined and lovely. The all too real insecurities of OC that plague them throughout the story, to where they are utterly confused when Hoseok isn’t just gonna go ghost after “winning a prize” is something I myself have unpacked in my own life (albeit in a more platonic way, as I’m single AF 🥲). And Hoseok…just wanting to take care of the ones he loves, even dealing with long lines because he knows OC gets the late night munchies. What a wonderful little detail. We all deserve the cozy relationships like this 🥺 What a way to start a Wednesday morning!
For the drabblepallooza :D
Hoseok:
hannah, this song 😩🥹 i hope i did it justice!
oh, you kissed me just to kiss me / not to make me cry / it was simple, you are sweetness / let’s just sit a while

It was a test - albeit an unfair one - but it was necessary. You were becoming comfortable and if your life had taught you even one (1) thing, it was this: the other shoe will always drop; and when it inevitably does, it’ll hit you square in your unsuspecting face.
Constant vigilance, or whatever. Sleep with one eye open. Hell, maybe two.
You weren’t sure what you’d done in a past life - what cursed mirror you shattered, or which witch you pissed off - but you didn’t get to be happy. Happy was for other people. Fate took your pretty, golden string and dragged it through the mud. You were polluted; you were sure of it.
But then Hoseok sprung up so unexpectedly like a daisy blooming through a crack in a city sidewalk. It was shocking, made you do a double take to prove you weren’t seeing things. Even worse, it made you hope. You were concrete, busted and so stubborn, and he was sweet. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t know how to trust that.
It had to be a ruse. Some long con - right?
Life lesson number two (2) was that no 2:00 AM text goes unpunished. You’d only ever been on the receiving end - in more ways than one - and it always ended up the same way: with you slumped on your couch with your best friend; you shoveling handfuls of dry cereal into your gaping maw; you ugly crying.
You couldn’t get a read on him, despite the month you’d been seeing each other. Was he the kind of person that would even be awake to receive your invitation? If he was, what would he make of it? And if he did show up on your doorstep, what then?
As usual, you got bored halfway into thinking it through. There was only one way to find out.
[02:03 AM]: Come over? 👉🏻👈🏻
Once you’d rigged the bomb that would blow you sky-high, all you could do was wait. You sat on your couch and faced the television you still hadn’t turned on, but your restless eyes kept darting down to the phone in your lap.
No matter how many times you tapped its screen to wake it, you couldn’t make a notification appear. All you accomplished with this course of action was repeated, glaring, minute-by-minute reminders that this whole thing was stupid.
At 2:39 AM, you accepted defeat. Hoseok was a hard-worker and an early-riser; it only made sense that he went to bed when respectable adults did. You should’ve been glad that you hadn’t ruined his good night’s sleep.
You were halfway back to your bedroom when a quiet knock stopped you dead in your tracks. Body still frozen, you tilted your head to stare incredulously at the door.
It worked? Fuck! Now what?
It took several seconds to convince your feet to move. When they finally did, the sound echoing through your apartment wasn’t that of bare soles on hardwood. Instead of muffled footsteps, you heard your brain repeating one word rhythmically, over and over, with each step: idiot, idiot, idiot.
You weren’t sure what you expected when you opened the door. Perhaps it was Hoseok, standing there like a fuck-boy with a condom wrapper clenched between his teeth. Maybe instead of a condom, it’d be a rewards card that he could redeem for a free coffee once your hole was punched. Or maybe he’d be naked, concealing his naughty bits with a sign that said I’m going to ruin your life!
Whatever horrible thing you could’ve imagined, it wasn’t what you got: Hoseok and his cold-bitten cheeks, wearing a big, flannel scarf and the sleepiest fucking smile you’d ever seen. He quirked an eyebrow at your shocked expression, but he didn’t ask after it.
He simply raised a white, styrofoam to-go box, and said, “Sorry it took so long. I stopped at that late-night pizza joint by my place. You wouldn’t believe that line.”
Dumbstruck, you accepted the box from him and stepped aside to allow him in. He kicked off his shoes, then tossed his coat and scarf onto the nearby coat rack. But then he kept moving, talking all the while, without noticing the sparks flying off your broken brain.
“Seriously, it wrapped around the entire block. As bad as it sounds, I’m kind of glad you weren’t with me this time,” he snickered as he dumped himself onto your couch. He threw you a wink you weren’t prepared to catch, “I don’t know if I could’ve stood there for twenty minutes while wearing you like a back-pack.”
Your face scrunched up. For the first time, actual words clambered out of your slack-jawed mouth, “Hey! I’m perfectly capable of waiting in a line!”
His brows furrowed above twinkling eyes. There was no point in arguing; you both knew you were full of shit. Right on cue, a montage started playing in your mind. It chronicled every single time you whined for a piggyback ride -
Spoiler alert: The total was somewhere between 12 and 20.
- because your legs were tired, or your shoes were giving you blisters, or because you were a dumb baby who needed to be held, or because maybe you were starting to lo- Nope, stop right there.
“Okay, fine, I’m not,” you conceded with a sigh as you joined him. Looking down at the pizza box - which was miraculously still warm despite his cold walk here - you bit down on your bottom lip.
He saw your shy silence and raised you a gentle nudge with his shoulder.
“You were sleeping,” you eventually whispered. Declaratory, not inquisitive because you woke him up, you menace.
Hoseok was so visibly confused by your uncharacteristic quietness, “Yes? And now I’m not.”
You were already melting into a puddle under that sunshine in his eyes, but he nevertheless persisted:
“You always get hungry this late. Was I supposed to let you starve?”
Your knees were wobbling even though your ass was firmly planted on that cushion, “That’s why you’re here?”
“I mean, I also missed you,” his bemused laughter carried you off like a breeze, “But keeping you fed is priority number one - for national security purposes, obviously. You get so cranky when you’re hungry.”
You were not going to cry, you adamantly refused, but your eyes got a little blurry when that giggle flew out of you. You kept giggling, too, until his cold hand cupped your cheek.
Then he kissed you and it was cotton candy, so sugary sweet in the way it melted in your mouth. You waited for him to pull you into his lap, to deepen the kiss, for that other shoe to collide with the top of your thick skull.
But he stopped.
He tucked you under his arm.
He smiled as he held a piece of pizza up to your buzzing lips, and he chuckled when you finally took the bite he offered.
Babe, listen
Your fic isn’t a flop, it’s a cult classic. Only the coolest freaks like it, don’t worry about it, it’s great.
taehyung: *sees yoongi*
also taehyung: i must pick that lil guy up