#and i reply “oh despite it being melancholic it has a surprisingly good ending”

[sublimeobjectenthusiast]

I know a lot of people who like listen to music to fill the time or because they're bored. Which I don't have a problem with, just I don't relate because I kinda have to actively make time for stuff I want to do. I don't have to fill time. And I have things which I prioritize more. I realize it came across as a bit mean, sorry, it really wasn't intended that way. I realize music isn't a waste of time.

whenever i meet people who say they don't like/listen to music i don't even know how to comprehend like what do you MEAN

[jimijoong]

Heaven Sent (pjm)

pairing— ghost!jimin x reader

word count— 1.1k (a shortie)

genre— supernatural (not the spooky kind), romance, & angst 

warnings— sadness, past death mention, light emotional trauma, catharsis

summary— being haunted seemed pretty farfetched, who in their right mind would believe in ghosts anyways? 

 Had you told the you of a few months past, “You’re being haunted”... You would have laughed. That was just fairy tales and parents spooking children into eating their broccoli.

But slowly, the evidence was starting to stack up. Novels moving from your bookcase to your bed, opened on a seemingly random page. A glass tipped on its side, making a little puddle below. Little creaks and groans in the night. Your doors opening on their own all of sudden,creaking horribly. Your utensils disappearing for a week and suddenly appearing again in the most random of places. If only you had a roommate to blame these happenings on.

A google search told you ghosts usually haunted the place they died; alternatively they liked graveyards a lot. They could appear as full bodied apparitions or look a little more transparent and proper ghostly. A lot of them were vaguely Victorian, it seemed. They could communicate through tv or some device, the “spirit box”. But how a ghost from 18-whatever could be savvy with technology didn’t make sense to you.  But there was no shortage of conspiratorial articles and footage. Yeah, the internet probably wasn’t your best bet for a reliable source. If one such source even existed. The local library didn’t come up with anything more credible. Most of what you found were children’s ghost story collections. The Goosebumps and Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark.

Had you told the you of a few months past, “You’re friends with a ghost”... You would have laughed. That was a joke- not even a good one.

But Jimin didn’t take long to make his presence wholly known to you. He would walk through your walls, and say hi with a surprisingly sweet smile for a dead person. He could pop in and out of existence at will. One moment you were browsing your phone the next you had a man looking over your shoulder with big curious eyes. You wouldn’t admit to anyone you screamed the first few times.

But his appearances were soon normalized, and he was just a part of your life. He was there, constant. Now he stuck around you longer, which you could call a proper visit. With more time, you got a good look at him. At first he was hard to make out in a wispy spectral form. You could grasp an eye or a nose for a singular, solitary second but it was quickly washed away in fluid spirals of whites and grays— like paint spreading through water. But every time he appeared it was a little clearer than the last. As if ever time he came forth into the living plane a piece of the puzzle was put into place.

He had dark blue hair reminiscent of a stormy sea. In his lifetime he would have had the most striking coal eyes, which were now paler and devoid of their sparkle. His skin held a gray pallor but looked smooth like marble. He wore a loose and bouncy linen blouse with a delivish “V” neckline. Tall black lace ups and dirty brown trousers. A utility belt was cinching his small waist, showing off his fit figure. He walked with grace and held himself like royalty. It was immediately noticeable in an age of slouches.

“Y/n.” Jimin came to you like usual, on any day.

“Hey Casper.”

He scowled playfully at you. “I had a favor to ask you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I want to- gosh, there’s no good way to put this- but I want to try touching you.”

Your eyes tore away from the tv and you gaped at him. “Are you being serious? What makes you think it’ll work now?” He didn’t reply and you sighed softly. “C’mere then.”

Holding out your hand for him, you let him come over. His brows scrunched together in concentration as he knelt in front of you, slowly bringing his hand closer to yours. He grasped his fingers around your palm and held you tightly. In that moment, it was as if sparks flew through your system, and you were suddenly overwrought with emotions. Worried. Frenzied. Terrified. Strained. Your chest started to hurt and your throat got choked up. You hadn’t noticed you’d started crying until Jimin asked you what was wrong.

“I don’t know I.. I think when you held my hand,” you took a pause to sniffle and wipe your eyes, “I could feel what you felt, in.. in your last moments.”

Jimin looked down thoughtfully, solemnly.

“I’m sorryJimin, I’m sure it’s not easy for you to accept-”

“No, in a way. It’s comforting. Knowing someone understands.” He said quietly, looking back up at you with his eyes in half moons.

“Guess that makes sense. In a totally sad way.” You forced a smile.

Jimin chuckled sadly, nodding his head and standing back up. “I’m glad it’s you, too.”

“What?”

“I mean… You’ve been so kind to me. Despite me scaring you on accident too many times. But- since my death I’ve been lost. It took me a while to understand what I was. Why am I still here? I kept asking that to myself. What haven’t I found the will let me pass on?”

You frowned, looking up at him to continue.

“I think… I was just missing closure. I was happy in my life, I had everything I wanted. But the accident- it suddenly halted everything and I don’t think my heart understood that. I still felt alive. And my time being your Casper, it has me feeling okay. It’s okay, I’ve had my run and I’m ready to give it up.”

“Jimin, don’t say that.” You bit out, standing up to face him. You wanted to be upset he was saying these things, but there were too many conflicting emotions, none of them could hold the top spot. You didn’t want to see your friend go away. But it was selfish to make him stay when he, more than anyone, deserved to go.

“It’s okay. I’m not afraid of death. They always say you’re going to a better place right?” Jimin held your chin between his cold fingers. It felt so real,watering your eyes more. Your heart was straining to hold in your feelings so bad, it hurt.

Leaning forward, you pressed your lips to his plush ones, closing your eyes. Feeling the years catch on your eyelashes, feeling him move with you into it. It was a magical moment. One so sporadic, one so passionate and melancholic.

His presence slipped away from you, and the room felt ironically warmer. When everything in you said it should feel colder.

Had you told the you of a few months past, “You’d fall in love with a ghost”... You would have laughed.

He was just a memory. One you would treasure dearly, but just that— a memory, as the world moves on.

𝓕𝓲𝓷

a/n— this is something i originally wrote last year but was never content with it until now. From the start I wanted to express a catharsis from death and I hope that came across :”) my cheesy title is meant to represent both jimin coming to the reader and creating a “heaven” for her as well as jimin being sent to his heaven in the end. Is that too sad? haha who knows 

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