Oh My God Thank You For The Kind Words! I Really Appreciate It This Little Drabble Just Sorta Flowed

Oh my god thank you for the kind words! I really appreciate it 🥺 This little drabble just sorta flowed out of me, and is definitely a world I’m open to exploring again sometime in the future. I’m so glad you enjoyed it!

Scratch

Author: @sabiekay

Pairing: Wolf Shifter! Jimin and Wolf Shifter! Reader (can be read as gender neutral) - Platonic/Friendship

Rating: PG-13 (for language and subject matter)

Genre: Wolf Shifters/Wolf Pack, Angst

Trigger Warnings: Graphic description of blood, wounds, and injuries; minor character death mention

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: While healing your packmate Jimin from an attack, you are confronted by painful memories you try to keep hidden. Inspired by prompt #1032 by @creativepromptsforwriting -

"It's only a scratch." "A scratch that is ruining all your clothes right now."

Author's Note: This is my first dip into the supernatural world! Everything I know about wolf shifters and/or wolf packs comes from reading other fics, please don't assume I am an expert or the definitive voice for this genre.

Read here!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50717473

Thank you for reading! I saw this prompt come up on my home page and the words just came spilling out.

Scratch

Author: @sabiekay

Pairing: Wolf Shifter! Jimin and Wolf Shifter! Reader (can be read as gender neutral) - Platonic/Friendship

Rating: PG-13 (for language and subject matter)

Genre: Wolf Shifters/Wolf Pack, Angst

Trigger Warnings: Graphic description of blood, wounds, and injuries; minor character death mention

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: While healing your packmate Jimin from an attack, you are confronted by painful memories you don’t want to face. Inspired by prompt #1032 by @creativepromptsforwriting -

"It's only a scratch." "A scratch that is ruining all your clothes right now."

Author's Note: This is my first dip into the supernatural world! Everything I know about wolf shifters and/or wolf packs comes from reading other fics, please don't assume I am an expert or the definitive voice for this genre.

Read here!: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50717473

Thank you for reading! I saw this prompt come up on my home page and the words just came spilling out.

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.

Reblog for Namjoon’s bday! 🎉

AMOMK Drabble 2 - Of Rambling Thoughts and Too Many Choices

Just like the first drabble in this AU spinoff, this work was based on the original story A Map of Mrs. Kims (and the drabbles that started it all!) created by @bonvoyagenoona​ and various members of the Tumblr BTS fanfic community! (You can also read it on ao3!). All rights regarding this universe of characters are credited and belong to her. I honestly did NOT expect to write a second little drabble in this universe, but almost a year later here we are...thank you so much to @bonvoyagenoona for letting me play in this little world for a bit again, and you can also read this particular drabble on A03 here

Names swirled through your head, mocking you with every thought. Kim Seokjin. Kim Taehyung. Min Yoongi. Kim Namjoon. You could hardly focus on your work when all your brain could do was loop those 4 names – those forms – over and over again. Now that you had them in hand, were you really so selfish to grab all 4 applications? Were you no better than someone at a cattle auction, waiting to nab the best in show? After all, it was one application out of dozens, possibly hundreds, to win the mere chance to go on a date with these men. To try to be a good, noticeable, outstanding candidate, to prove to these strangers that yes, you could be a good wife in the future. As if that’s all you needed in life.

But then again, that seemed to be what modern dating was nowadays. Click on a profile, read a basic summary, see a few photos, and swipe right. Pray that the person on the other end wasn’t a creep or a bot. On the dating apps, you didn’t have to see the humanity behind the screen; just one click and move onto the next. Hope for a match. Hope that profile leads to something more. Find another if you don’t. To walk up to these very real men and ask for every list and form available – in front of their mother no less! – now forced you to face the apparent greed of your actions. That maybe you should have been firmer in your decision, to just pick a profile and pray for the best.

Kim Seokjin. Kim Taehyung. Min Yoongi. Kim Namjoon. It would be all too easy to blame Ji-a. After all, it was her crazy idea to apply in the first place. However, she already made her choice – the singular application for one Kim Taehyung was filled out and submitted the second she got home from the country club. So why were you waffling around like someone staring at a takeout menu at 2 am?

It could also be the lingering embarrassment from realizing Kim Namjoon was Museum Boy. There was no telling how you’d live that realization down. You’d even changed when you visited the museum because of it. Ji-a squealed when you told her – she insisted that this was fate, that this just was evidence you and Namjoon were meant to be, how your only choice now was to fill out the pre-destined application and make it official, just like her favorite romance stories. But all you wanted to do was hide. How could you face him? Before, Museum Boy was a concept. Just a handsome man with similar tastes in art. He was safe, distant, a small constant in your hectic life - like when the barista already knows your order at your local coffee shop. But now? Now you could only imagine just how crazy you looked from his point of view: a woman just so happens to run into him at a museum several times, enough to be recognized. Then she shows up once again at the same exact country club at the same exact time he happened to be there. Then saying “Uhh…. all of them?” when asked which application she wanted…Ugh, no wonder he probably thought you were a stalker. Numerous true crime documentaries have proven people would do much less for attention.

Kim Seokjin. Kim Taehyung. Min Yoongi. Kim Namjoon. Each attribute, likes, and dislikes gave you a small glimpse into who they were – you’d practically memorized them by how many times you’ve agonized in making your choice:

Seokjin, eldest of the Kim brothers, loves to cook, visiting farmers markets, and to go fishing on his few days off. A hard worker and dependable, every detail jotted down in his profile just screamed “Perfect Husband Material”, and it would be all too easy to imagine a simple, domestic life with him.  

Taehyung, baby of the family and massive flirt, listens to jazz and is a photographer by trade. A creative soul, you could tell just by reading each response that he would be fun and adventurous, each day just as spontaneous as the last.

Yoongi, not even related to the Kim brothers but still somehow has his own form, writes songs and plays both piano and guitar when he’s not teaching. Each answer seemed direct, but thoughtful, something you’d sorely missed in your last couple relationships.

And Namjoon, middle child and Museum Boy extraordinaire, teaches middle school, is passionate about music and writing, and loves having deep philosophical discussions. You could imagine talking to him for hours, delving into the inner workings of the arts, letting those conversations lead you to explore more about yourself and the world you live in.

Maybe you were surrounded by too many choices – on paper, they all seemed amazing, almost too good to be true. You wanted to get to know them individually. You wanted to wait and form some sort of plan. You needed to get out of your head and make a damn decision already. At this rate they might already be married by the time you decide to apply.

The serene painting in front of you was your favorite for this very reason. It seemed simple from far away – a watercolor scene of lotus flowers floating in a pond – but it always felt immersive. You could lose your thoughts as the colors flowed in and out of each other. Imagine the golden light of sunset warming your body. Whenever you were stressed or upset, you would just sit at the bench directly in front of it and mediate, forget about the outside world for a little while. Your troubles started to melt away, thoughts of applications joined the very paint on the canvas.

“Hey stranger, haven’t seen you around here in a while,” a voice suddenly called. You nearly reached the ceiling as your trance was brutally interrupted. To your left stood Kim Namjoon.

“Gah! I – uh – hi! Hi,” you undignifiedly sputtered in response.

“Hi,” Namjoon laughed, the smile never leaving his face. You knew you were sunk if you stared at his dimples for too long. “I thought you might have found a new hangout spot. Usually, our semi-regular greetings are a bit more…well…regular. You’re Y/N, right?”

You looked toward the floor as you nodded, your face already feeling warm. “I didn’t want to seem like a stalker…”

“Don’t stalkers change their patterns once they’re caught?” Taking a quick shocked glance was all you could do as he gave a cheeky smirk, his eyes bright and mischievous. “But no, never thought you were stalking me. I just figured you were a fellow patron of the arts. What brings you here on a Wednesday afternoon?”

“There were severe issues with my work’s telecom system, and rather than let the big wigs think we’re not doing anything or pay us to just sit there waiting for repairs, we were all sent home. What about you? Playing hooky?

“Legally allowed hooky, yes. It’s a school holiday and I somehow managed to get all of my meetings done before sunset. So I'm celebrating and taking a small break before I have to go drown in lesson plans.” Namjoon then gestured to the seat next to you. After you nodded your agreement, he sat a close but respectable distance from you.

“Are you doing okay? You seemed really lost in thought there.”

You didn’t give much of an answer, unable to look at him quite yet. A sigh escaped as you stared at the painting ahead. “Yeah, just a lot on my mind. But it seems so stupid now…”

He turned more toward you, a calm demeanor radiating from his body. “If you feel comfortable talking, I’m all ears.” There was an inkling that he was like this with his students. You hesitated despite the warm invitation, contemplating what you were going to say.

“It’s just….” You started, subconsciously smoothing your hands over your knees. “These damn dating applications that I got from your mother is stressing me out and It’s so dumb because I can’t seem to make a choice. I should be able to just…make up my mind and turn something in if I was so determined to do so at the start. It’s been weeks! But no, here I am, being so ridiculous and overthinking something that I might not even get accepted or chosen for in the first place. I’m a tiny piece of the puzzle, why am I freaking out so much?”  

Namjoon nodded as you rambled, a brief flash of recognition crossed his face. “I totally understand. And your feelings are absolutely valid. But from one overthinker to another, why should you have to make a choice right now? Or even make a choice at all? Why do you even have to choose one single application to complete?”

“It all seems so final, doesn’t it? Like this entire process is some sort of life test or fate or something. My friend was able to just go forward, know which one she wanted to go after, and just fill out the form, so I should be able to do the same, right? But now I just feel greedy, like I’m just lumping you and your brothers together, as if you are some sort of interchangeable trophy to win. That’s not fair to anyone. If I need to make a decision, I just want to be sure of it, you know?” You knew you were rambling, but your brain just couldn’t stop. If this was a life simulation game, you just hoped you wouldn’t see the negative friendship points flash over Namjoon’s head. Why couldn’t you stop rambling?

To his credit, Namjoon only chuckled. “Well, it’s definitely something to think about. And it’s great that you see all of us as separate human beings instead of just the Kim boys or a full unit. Your heart seems to be in the right place. But you have a few options – you could just apply for all of us and take a chance. It might be exciting, like a going on some blind dates, right? You could think about what you want in a relationship, use that to determine which one of us you want to pursue. Or you just walk away, forget about maps and dates and applications. But, if you’re so sure about making a single choice…. would it be easier if I tell you why you shouldn’t date each of us?”

“What…?”

“Yeah, just take a look at my hyung, Seokjin. He’s the best older brother anyone could ask for. Kind, loyal, a hard worker. Takes charge but in a more subtle way. But his jokes are terrible. You’d be forced to listen to the absolute worst dad jokes this side of the world. And that’s before he likes you enough to force you onto a fishing boat before sunrise.”

An eyebrow raised was all it took for Namjoon to continue on.

“Yoongi is my best friend, and is such a romantic at heart. But when he’s focused on a project or work, it’s like he’s dead to the world. I’m actually not even sure he really sleeps at night. And Taehyung is such a thoughtful guy, will do anything for those he loves, and lives life to the fullest. He loves life, you know? But as much as I love him, sometimes he can be downright weird. There are days I wish I could just see what’s going on in his brain. Some people might find him too much to handle.”

Giggling at every description, you could see how much love and respect Namjoon for each of them.

“So, what about you? Why would you be deemed undatable?”

Namjoon paused, a small hint of something unreadable flashed over his face. Perhaps a bittersweet memory? Something sad he wanted to forget? Whatever it was, he didn’t let it linger for long. Just as quickly as that brief emotion arrived, he replaced it with another half-smile. “Well, I’m a middle school teacher who likes fine art. I’m afraid the only dates I’d be able to afford involve takeout and free events.”

A light laughter filled the room as you both focused on painting in front of you. Namjoon checked his watch, sighing as he stood up.

“Unfortunately, break time is over. If I don’t get started on those lesson plans now, I’ll never get them done on time. But hey, don’t dwell too much over whatever you decide, okay? Flip a coin if you need to. Take your time to think, but if that’s all you do, you’ll find opportunities will pass you by. Bye, Y/N! See you when the new exhibits premiere.” With a wink and a wave, Namjoon lightly waved his goodbyes as you continued to sit on the bench, going over every word.

Kim Seokjin. Kim Taehyung. Min Yoongi. Kim Namjoon. A deep breath escaped as you grounded yourself for the task ahead. The mailbox loomed in front of you, challenging you to be brave, to take a chance. With eyes closed, you placed the large stamped envelope inside, ready to let your fate reveal itself. 4 names, 4 completed applications. You just hoped you knew what you were doing.

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.

😭😭 I can’t wait for summer to end…