And here they are! I had a hard time deciding which ones to make, tbh. I love plants.. As a side note you CAN hang these up on the wall by themselves. There is a two pixel border around each one, imitating a frame. Feel free to use these as you wish!
Please tag this as needed, he turned out pretty gnarly! But this is how I pictured him as I was reading. I wanted to do some scenes from the fic but I ran out of time this morning. I really want to thank you for your writing though. It’s really inspiring!
Today’s addition is just interesting. I was walking into my local Goodwill of choice, and found that my usual Band Angels bin (because I know you all love that series of unread posts) was pushed back for a bin. As I approached this bin, I found something unexpected.
Photos. Framed photos. At least 50 framed photos of unique shapes and sizes, all in quality frames for $2.00 a piece.
Let’s take a look:
They’re clearly quality photographs!
Someone’s personal quality photographs!
But not just animals! Places, people, buildings, and nature! This bin contains someone’s passion, someone’s life! Was this a hobby or someone’s life’s work? And where are they now?!
One of these dozens of images contains the soul of this lost photographer, I know it. All one will have to do is free it from the frame, and this lifetime of memories will be yours. Trust me, I could be a scientist.
Summary: Werewolves, contrary to popular belief, are usually gentle creatures. Except for a very specific set of circumstances, they would never hurt a human (on purpose). The few unfortunate times when mistakes were made put a permanent dark mark on the beasts and people began labeling them as monsters. What the human population failed to recognize was the fact that they were protecting us from something much more sinister. Luckily, a few survived and the gene was passed down hereditarily until one day finding its way to me… in the form of my best friend.
Loyalty is often as blind as justice should be, as unstable as a lightning storm ought to be, and as misplaced as an opinion in the truth.
As Jimin disappears behind one of the crumbling buildings, Munhee crosses her arms, visibly fighting a frown for Jungkook’s benefit, “Sometimes, I wonder why we ever took in that brat.”
Her words are cruel, but can I really fault her for them?
From the moment I met Munhee, she had been a mysterious character. Dark hair always pulled into a disheveled ponytail with a generous amount of strands coming loose or hanging free to frame her face, consistently dressed in all black, fitted clothes, and armed with a knife she keeps in her boot… Munhee isn’t the least scary person I’ve ever seen and her mood swings do nothing to help her case.
Still, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in the short time span I’ve known her, it’s she’s a very calculating person who has the pack’s best interest at heart.
So who am I to judge? Maybe she should be more patient. Or maybe Jimin should be more respectful. I don’t know their history and right now, I’m not really keen on asking.
“Don’t,” she commands bluntly as Namjoon and Seokjin move to go after Jimin. They cast her a questioning look, but won’t dare disobey. Munhee stuffs her hands into the pockets of her jeans and makes her way toward the mistletoe entrance, calling over her shoulder, “Time to go inside. We’re done for today.”