scribbles & sin

The Official Writing Blog of your favorite village idiot

[scribbles-and-sin]

For all 19 of you who follow me,

I'm going to be posting something new starting in May. It's a Yoongi-centric fic that I've been playing with for 18 months approximately. It will be dark, and angsty for the most part and I understand if that's not something you're into.

[cunthq]

tablo vs ac

[jamaisjoons]

The Summer Bucketlist: BTS edition

When the weather sees the return of sunshine and warmth, the joy and exuberance of summer is revived, and everyone rushes to enjoy the season to the fullest. Bonfire nights with your friends, seeing brilliant firework displays or laying under the stars on a humid night and watching the world go by. Learning to surf, or dive or snorkel or simply collecting seashells along the shore. Late nights at the amusement parks, thrilling rollercoaster rides or spectacular views on the Ferris Wheel. Skinny dipping in a lake after dark, attending a film or music festival, or even just visiting the popup street market in your city. Everything you had been dreaming off since the start of autumn, you can do once again. And who better to do it with, than the boys who bring more joy and warmth to our lives than summer itself?

Welcome to ‘The Summer Bucketlist’ - a writing event/author collab hosted by @jamaisjoons​

The Summer Bucketlist: BTS Edition - is an event in which various different authors can sign up to write a story based on traditional Bucketlist Items. For more information of the event, please read below.

Keep reading

[scribbles-and-sin]

Choice: Part Two

This is part two of The Choice Already Made

Warning: GDragon x OC fic. Angsty angsty angst. 

A pain you had never felt before knifed through your stomach and left you clutching the edges of the bathroom sink. Your fingernails pressed against the porcelain so hard it hurt. For a moment you just stood there with your head bent, heart beating an irrational tattoo. Your mouth hung open and you tried your best to simply breathe through the sudden intense nausea. The stories you’d heard from your girlfriends about heartbreak had definitely not mentioned anything about this – the sense of betrayal so deep that it was physically making you sick.

It’s been three days. Three days since you came home from work and had your world cave in around you. It had started out like any normal day for you. You’d gone to your job, chatted with co-workers and daydreamed your free moments away. When you were finally free to go home you grabbed your purse, stuffed your phone in it and all but ran to the parking lot. Jiyong had only gotten back from Big Bang’s latest tour the previous night. You’d been too tired to celebrate or appreciate his return so you had plans to make up for it tonight. You had the stupidest grin on your face when you walked into the house you two shared with bags of groceries for the meals you planned to cook for your man and the lingerie that you’d picked up – all for him.

You had just put the bags on the countertop when you heard the distinctive sound of mail falling through the slot in the front door. Being the slightly OCD person you were, you just had to go get it. You were sorting it into piles as you always did when you came across the large envelope with your name on it. You didn’t recognize the handwriting and that gave you pause. Who the heck sent things by mail anyways? You set it to one side and tried to continue your sorting but your curiosity overrode the small voice in the back of your head that was telling you to resist opening it. You sighed, picked it up and slit it open with one of your fingernails. Just then your phone went off, some stupid alarm that you had forgotten to deactivate. The envelope dropped from your hands and its contents fell in an arch on the floor.

You froze when you saw what they were. Your brain started working overtime; first denying vehemently what was depicted in the series of photographs, then trying desperately to justify it. They were fake. The pictures were fake, you decided. That lasted all of ten seconds. You didn’t know how to react or what to do. You were numb. You just stood there staring at the pictures on the floor until your neck began to ache. That was when some sense of reality returned. You knelt and quickly stuffed them back into the envelope and put that back on the counter. The bills you put in the little box designated for them. Then you calmly packed up everything that belonged to you and carted it out to your car. You were about to leave when you remembered the groceries and dashed back to the kitchen for them. Fuck Jiyong. He could starve to death for all you cared.

That was three days ago. You had driven your car to your cousin’s apartment on the opposite side of Seoul and moved all of your stuff in. Your cousin was currently spending a week in Canada with her boyfriend. She wouldn’t mind that you’d done this.  You had gone looking for water in the fridge and stumbled on a small bottle of Grey Goose. You were not much of a drinker under normal circumstances but u tipped that baby back and took two gulps of the liquor. The whoosh of the alcohol hitting your bloodstream made you giggle and gave you a brilliant idea. You were far from drunk so you went out to the parking lot, got in your car, drove it to Itaewon and simply parked in an alley and left it there with the keys still inside it. You took a bus home.

Two days ago you had woken up and decided that you were going to make it as hard as possible for Jiyong to find you. You grabbed a pair of scissors from your cousin’s office and gave yourself a haircut, resulting in emo  bangs and shoulder-length tresses. You opened one of your bags and pulled out a pair of scuffed knee high Converse you hadn’t worn in years. After a quick shower you pulled on a green bandeau skirt, a black vest and your recently resurrected shoes. You shoved your wallet, phone and lip gloss into a white Jansport backpack you found lying around and took off. You came back with colored contacts, hair dye, a pair of cute blue-framed glasses and a new Samsung S III. Your old phone was resting on the bottom of the Han river.

This morning you had snapped a photo of yourself with your new phone. You looked completely from how you had before you found out. There was the hair – you had had waist-length black hair for as long as you could remember and now you were sporting a light brown hue. Green eyes looked good on you. Your clothing style had reverted to what it was before you had changed it to fit the demands of being with one of the most fashion-conscious men in South Korea. You liked the change.

Thus far the numbness had served you well. You were not concerned about it. You hoped it would last forever but some part of you knew that sooner or later you would have to deal with a world of hurt. You had known it was coming. You had tried to prepare yourself as well as you could. You had thought that you were ready right up until a minute ago when you had tried to watch an episode of your favorite drama on your phone and had the misfortune of having a Big Bang ad crop up. You saw his smiling face before you could close it and the pain began.  

For the rest of that week and all of the next you stayed in the house. Your cousin returned from her trip, took one look at you and declared that you could stay for as long as you wanted to.  It was a living thing, this pain of yours. It slept, letting you forget for hours on end that your husband had cheated on you with a Japanese Barbie, before waking to catch you unprepared and burn another hole through your heart.

One day a call came through, from a number you did not know. You accepted it because you thought perhaps it was your cousin – that girl lost a phone at least once a month – and almost had a heart attack when you heard the familiar voice on the other line. Jiyong. He didn’t let you speak. He started pleading for you to come home, begging you to let him know where you were, how you were, asking for your forgiveness then cutting himself off and saying he knew he didn’t deserve it. He went on like that for a full five minutes before you hung up on him.  He had promised you multiple times that he would never hurt you. He had sworn before God, your family, friends and about a hundred members of the Korean press that he would be faithful to you. He had chosen the end of your marriage when he chose to break those vows. Maybe someday in the distant future you would be able to tolerate him.

For now you wanted him to burn in hell for all eternity.

[scribbles-and-sin]

The Choice Already Made

Warnings: This is a GDragon x OC fic. It was written almost FIVE years ago. This is part 1 of 3. IT IS ANGST

Part I

Jiyong walked into the apartment, whistling jauntily as he started his homecoming ritual. He used his feet to slide his unlaced sneakers off and left them to the left of the door. His gloves made slapping sounds as they hit the highly polished cherry hardwood flooring seconds apart. His fingers nimbly undid the knots on his scarf until the bit of multicolored cotton slithered from his shoulders. The lights in the kitchen came on as he moved into that space, bathing him in a soft yellow light. He got a bottled water from the fridge, opened it, tossed the cap into the sink and drank half of it in one go. The plastic bottle cap glanced off of the edge of the stainless steel sink and flew up to hit one of the cupboards which in turn sent it zinging against a champagne flute that was on the other side of the kitchen island. The tinkling of broken glass on the floor elicited a string of mumbled swear words in a curious mix of English, Japanese and his mother tongue.

He finished his water and dropped the bottle into the trash can. The glass was already broken; no good would come from rushing to clean it up. The broom and the little spade-thing you used to sweep up dust were in the bathroom, in the cabinet underneath the sink. He got them and returned to the scene of the crime having made a detour to the bedroom to find the blue rubber gloves you used for doing housework. With the gloves on, he crouched close to the floor in an attempt to see just how far the bits and pieces of glass had gone. A bit of white beneath the fridge caught his attention and he slipped his gloved fingers into the space between the bottom of the appliance and the floor. He felt an envelope – a big one at that. He pulled it out. What on earth was it doing on the floor?

He stood to his full height with the envelope in his right hand, looking at it for a moment before he flipped it over. Your name was scrawled across the front of it in handwriting that he had never seen before. The top was slit open and he could see that it contained pictures. He pulled the first one out and met his own gaze. Shock zipped up his spine, did a u-turn and radiated out to his fingers and toes. For a second, he couldn’t draw breath. His fingers tightened their grip reflexively. Jiyong peered at Jiyong and he would have sworn that he felt his heart stop. In the photograph he was sleeping, shirtless, with most of his tattoos visible. In the photograph, he had last year’s seaweed hair. In the photograph, he was in Kiko’s bed.

Ice. That was what it felt like when he realized that she had sent you those pictures and that you had seen them. It felt like every drop of blood in his body had turned into ice. He shivered, dropping the first picture and quickly spreading them out on the counter. They numbered twenty in all. Twenty images of him in places he should not have been. Twenty pictures that spelled out his affair with the Japanese model. He couldn’t think. He could barely breathe, much less think. His chest was hurting. You knew. Dear God, you knew.

If his blood was ice then his brain was on fire when thought returned. It literally felt as if his brain was on fire. His disjointed thoughts took him back to the bedroom. Weak legs took him to the closet you both shared. Shaking hands tried once, twice, thrice to slide the doors open. On the fourth try the doors separated enough for him to ascertain that your side of it was bare. He turned his body, spinning and lurching as he ran to the vanity table and yanked the small drawers open. It was empty. He forced himself to walk into the bathroom. Your toothbrush and night cream weren’t on your side of the sink. Your bath towel was missing as well. Everything you owned was gone. You were gone as well.

The thought started out small and whispery. Then it started to grow, becoming a giant handful of letters and a shout that threatened to deafen him. You were gone. You knew about Kiko and you left. You left him. Jiyong didn’t know he was crying until he felt something cold on his chest. He didn’t know he was kneeling until his knees began to ache. The numbness left as swiftly as it had descended. Panic took over.

He had to find you. He had to find you so that he could beg for your forgiveness. You could be anywhere. Oh, God, what if you’d run out and gotten hurt? His phone. He found it on the bed and dialed your number. Voicemail. Okay, that meant your phone was off. Plan B. He dialed his members’ numbers. He was going to find you. They were going to help and he was going to find you. He was going to find you and explain and grovel on his knees if need be to get you back.