#so this familiarity is vvvvv nice

[whipbogard]

4am manic episode got me downloading CSP on my iPad

Oh no. OH NO. Calligraphy pen my beloved 😭😭😭

[krabmeat]

☊⏃⋏ ⟟ ⏚⟒ ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏? ⏃⋏⊬⍙⏃⊬⌇ ⋏⍜⍙ ⏁⊑⏃⏁'⌇ ⏃⌰⌰ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍙⏃⊬. ☌⍜⎅ ⍀⟒⏃⎅⟒⍀ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⍀⟒⎐⟟⎐⟒⎅ ⎍⋏⟒⌖⌿⟒☊⏁⟒⎅⌰⊬ ⏚⊬ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔? ⟟⏁'⌇ ⌰⟟☍⟒ - ⏃ ⍀⟒⏃⌰⌰⊬ ⏚⏃⎅⏃⌇⌇ ⏃⋏⏁⏃☌⍜⋏⟟⌇⏁ ☌⍜⎅ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ☌⟒⏁⌇ ⌿⎍⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⍜⎍⏁ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ☊⏃⌰⌰⟟⋏☌ ⎅⍀⟒⏃⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ "⌇⏃⎐⟟⍜⎍⍀" (⏚⎍⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏃ ⋔⍜⍀⟒ ⌇⏃⏁⟟⍀⟟☊⏃⌰ ⍙⏃⊬ ⟟⋏⌇⏁⟒⏃⎅ ⍜⎎ ☌⟒⋏⎍⟟⋏⟒⌰⊬ ⌇⟒⟒⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒ ⋔⏃⌇☍⟒⎅ ⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⌇ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⊑⟒⍀⍜ ☊⏃⎍⌇⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⏃⌇⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬'⎐⟒ ⋔⍜⌇⏁ ⌰⟟☍⟒⌰⊬ ☊⏃⌰⌰⟒⎅ ⟒⎐⟒⍀⊬⍜⋏⟒ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒⋔ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ⋔⟟☌⊑⏁⊬ ⊑⟒⌰⌿⟒⍀ ⏁⍜ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌿⍜⟟⋏⏁ ⍙⊑⟒⍀⟒ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⟟⏁⌰⟒ ⎎⟒⟒⌰⌇ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏃⋏⎅ ⎍⋏⎅⟒⌇⟟⍀⏃⏚⌰⟒). ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⍀⍜⏃⋔⟒⎅ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌰⏃⋏⎅⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⊑⟒ ⌇⋔⌿, ⏚⍀⟟⋏☌⟟⋏☌ ⏁⟒⍀⍀⍜⍀ ⏃⋏⎅ ⊑⟒⌰⌰⎎⟟⍀⟒ ⏃☊⍀⍜⌇⌇ ⏁⊑⟒ ⍜⎐⟒⍀⍙⍜⍀⌰⎅, ⌰⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⏁⊑⟒⟟⍀ ☍⟒⌿⏁ ⟟⋏ ⍀⏃☌⟒ ⌇⏁⍀⍜⌰⌰ ⎎⍀⟒⟒. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⟒⋏⎅ ⎍⌿ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⏁⎍⋏⎅⍀⏃, ⏁⊑⟒ ⏚⎍⍀⋏⟟⋏☌ ⎎⌰⏃☍⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏃⌇⊑⟒⌇ ☌⟒⏁⏁⟟⋏☌ ⌰⍜⌇⏁ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ⊑⏃⍀⌇⊑ ⌿⟟⌰⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⌇⋏⍜⍙. ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⌇⏁⎍⋔⏚⌰⟒⎅ ⎍⌿⍜⋏ ⏁⊑⟒ ☊⍜⏁⏁⏃☌⟒⌇ ⍜⎎ ⏁⍙⍜ ⟟⋔⋔⍜⍀⏁⏃⌰ ☌⍜⎅⌇ ⏁⊑⏃⏁ ⏁⊑⟒⊬ ⋔⏃⊬ ⍜⍀ ⋔⏃⊬ ⋏⍜⏁ ⊑⏃⎐⟒ ⎍⌇⟒⎅ ⏁⍜ ☍⋏⍜⍙. ⍙⍜⋏⎅⟒⍀ ⍙⊑⏃⏁'⌰⌰ ⊑⏃⌿⌿⟒⋏? ⟟ ⍙⍜⎍⌰⎅ ⌰⟟☍⟒ ⏁⍜ ⌇⟒⟒ ⊬⍜⎍⍀ ⏁⏃☍⟒ ⟟⋏ ⏁⊑⟟⌇.

- ⟒⋏⎅⟒⍀⋔⏃⋏ ⏃⋏⍜⋏

𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚋𝚎𝚗𝚝

𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜: philza, techno, Wilbur,(next few only mentioned)Mexican dream, schlatt, dream

𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚜: they/them

𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: fire, death, arson, betrayal mention, being used, reference to drugs, slight cursing

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜: translation vvvvv

Can i be enderman anon? anyways now that's all out of the way. God reader getting revived unexpectedly by dream? it's like - a really badass antagonist god that gets pulled out of the underworld, calling dream their "saviour" (but in a more satirical way instead of genuinely seeing the masked man as their hero cause in the past they've most likely called everyone that helped them their mighty helper to the point where the title feels overused and undesirable). They roamed the lands of the smp, bringing terror and hellfire across the overworld, letting their kept in rage stroll free. They end up in the tundra, the burning flakes of ashes getting lost in the harsh piles of snow. They happened to have stumbled upon the cottages of two immortal gods that they may or may not have used to know. Wonder what'll happen? i would like to see your take in this.

 - enderman anon

AHHH IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I DONT KNOW IF YOULL EVEN READ THIS STILL BUT TY FOR THE REQUEST IT ISNT THE BEST QUALITY IM SORRY :[[[

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You almost don't recognize the sensation of grass against your calloused and rough hands. You were in the void playing solitaire with Schlatt and Mexican Dream, and the next thing you knew you were suddenly pulled harshly by the back of your collar, falling on your spine. The looming mask of Dream is what stood above you, but he looked different. Longer hair, smelly, wearing a stained lime green jumpsuit with ‘0001' sewn into it and covered in cuts, scars and bruises. But before you could even question why Dream was suddenly there, he stepped back into the void, the void slowly surrounding and consuming him the further he went backwards. His now bony hand is still tightly gripped onto the back of your shirt, so while struggling your body is also enveloped in darkness. All it took was one blink and there you were on a patch of grass, staring at the pale blue sky.

"Huh."

Was all that came out of your mouth. You were still shocked at the turn of events that just happened, but no longer grounded. A running river nearby stunned your senses. How long had you been dead? It felt like years, but when you look around at the familiar forest you died in, not much had changed except for a couple newly planted saplings here and there. The swirling ashes you remembered before you died had all settled and compressed into the soil.

The river showed a strange reflection of yourself- your features have clearly sunken into your skull and there's a streak of white hair coming from your scalp along with words in fancy gold letters on your arm reading,

"May thy woes and hurt of the past no longer eradicate the upwards of this lost souls future. Allow thine to be praised by Ender themselves and be granted another chance at mortality."

Scrubbing or picking at your arm did nothing, so onwards you went walking along the forest to what you remember being a bustling "community".

Each mound of dirt you saw only brought memories of your death, of the place and people who sought to treat you like you were disposable. And now that you’re alive, you hate that they technically ended up being right. Your death; alone in a forest. Running away from the unexpected attacker, ashamed and too prideful to die in the prying eyes of your enemies. It fills you with rage, all the lives taken by your hands and for what? You weren’t overreacting, you knew that for sure. And before you knew it, you stole some fresh flint and steel from a random chest and got to work. 

You had always wanted to touch the fires you set. The soothing feeling you got from watching wood burn to char and ashes satisfied you. And it made it all the more euphoric to know it was trees of your manipulator's land. Running across the land, with flames as far as you could see when you looked behind you. The heat swirled around your neck and went into your nose, but the feeling was muscle memory at that point. You were still riding your high when a voice reached out to you, luckily when you were finally calm.

"What- Y/n? Hold on, is that really you Y/n..?"

You spin on your heels to the familiar manipulative British voice of a person you haven't seen in a long time. 

"Wilbur?! Man, I haven't seen another person's face other than those two addicts in a while- you look different." 

His eyes much like yours are sunken deep into his skull, purple-pink bags under his eyes and dull skin. Wilburs shocked lips fade into an opened mouth smile when he walks up to you with his hands momentarily confused on what they should do. Eventually, his right hand settles on clasping your left shoulder, giving it a friendly squeeze.

“Y/n it is so good to see you! You look quite different yourself, wouldn’t you think-? Oh, look! We’re matching!”

The grey streak in your hair seems to make another appearance when Wilbur briefly smacks it with his middle and pointer finger. 

“Ay, it’s nice to see you too Wil, but back up for a second alright? I've got something to ask you by the way…”

Wilburs head peaks in interest, urging you to go on.

“I’m guessing that little streak in your hair wasn’t a fashion choice- and if it was it’s a bit strange- but how’d you get it? You died when you blew up L’manburg! I mean c'mon, people don’t just, well…REVIVE!”

He starts to walk. You aren’t quite sure where, but stumbling along with Wilbur while his arm is draped lazily atop your shoulders seems to suffice. 

“Ahh Y/n, you’d be surprised. The most WONDERFUL thing happened, actually! Years and years in my hell of a train station; do you know who was at the subway door when it finally opened, Y/n? Dream!”

“Wh- Dream?!”

Appalled, you try to stop in your tracks but fail when wilburs arm is still pushing forward. His storytelling voice dies down to curiosity and excitement.

“Wait, did he save you too? He did, didn’t he? Oh, this is wonderful!”

Wilbur emits eagerism and you suddenly realize what you could do with his desperacy to be socially accepted. Putting on the most exaggerated and animated voice, you speak. 

“Oh my god yeah! Gosh, that Dream guy is my hero! Thanks to him, I get to have another chance at living again, and isn’t that just…swell.”

In all honesty you didn’t really try hard to sound sincere but by the look of Wilbur, it seemed to work just fine. 

“Right?! I’ve been meaning to visit him in the prison if you’d like to tag along with me the day I go? I’m sure he’d love to see you, since he revived you and all.”

Oh, you were sure Dream wanted to see you. He wants a boon- a trade. Why else would he revive two of the most historically significant people on the server if not to make some sort of deal with them? Sure, Wilbur is as gullible and carefree as ever but you at least still had scraps of mental stability and level-headedness that made you all the more a force to be reckoned with. Not to mention Wilbur doesn’t know that Dream killed you, but telling him that now would blow your act. You decide to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“Yeahh, sure! I’d love to go, just tell me when.”

And that’s the end of that conversation. The two of you walk to wherever Wilbur is going. It honestly surprised you how he couldn’t see through your apathy. From what you remembered, he was keen on being wise about people and their intentions but you guess years and years in hell do things to a person.

Somehow, you’re stuck in your mind for long enough that only now do you feel the sharp winter air making the hairs on your arms and legs stand straight up. 

“Wait, snow?”

The tundra was a drastic contrast to the void you were once in with schlatt and Mexican Dream. Instead of black as far as you could see, it was a blinding powdery white. 

‘Mexican Dream would’ve liked it here, probably would have tried to snort the snow like coke.’

You weren’t built for the snow, though. Hell- you didn’t even have a memory of anyone living in a tundra when you were alive! Why was Wilbur even in the tundra? You didn’t have the energy to ask, still feeling brittle and tired, back aching from laying on the dry dirt longer than expected earlier. 

“Yeah, just figured I’d show you around! Plus I already need to grab a couple things from an ender chest and this was the closest by. I’m a very busy man, after all.”

But why were there so many footprints in the snow? As far as you knew, Wilbur was the only one who lived out in the tundra- and he didn’t seem like the active type at all. There were strange shapes as well, large hooved footprints. However, all thinking comes to a halt at the same time Wilbur does.

“We’re here! You might see some familiar faces cause I live with people.”

Well, that answers the footsteps as well as the tall red-caped piglin hybrid giving leftover bones and raw meat to a polar bear.

“TECHNO! TECHNO, HEY!”

He tenses up for a second, you could tell he wanted to be left alone but that didn’t really bother Wilbur. But you recognize him. The name and the apparel- that guy is Technoblade. The same Technoblade who stood by your side while the two of you blew L’manburg up for the last time, and now the Technoblade who resides in a cottage shrouded in snow.

“Technoblade?!”

Hearing your voice being carried by the crisp winter air, he turns around immediately to see you and Wilbur a few feet away. Techno stood there dumbfounded, but he didn’t know why. He wasn’t particularly joyed or ecstatic to see you, but he was at the very least happy to see an old ally back. 

“Y/n? Oh my god, now we’ve got TWO of you? We don’t have room for another one, alright?”

For some it might be hard to see the meaning behind his words. Luckily you’ve talked to him enough to where you can tell he’s being playful.

“Don’t worry, I’ll just build directly on top of your house. Besides, who WOULDN'T want to be near me 24-7?”

“Me-“

“Oh f*ck off.”

You would’ve thought that that was Wilbur due to the similar accent, but there was something off. The slight gruffness and age, yet still succeeding in sounding mellow.

“Phil! How’s my favorite old bird doing?”

He gives you a face. Not a happy one like you expected, rather a face that says ‘really?’ Probably because of the old comment. The two of you briefly hug, Phil’s tattered wings stretching out slightly.

“I’m doing alright, are you okay? Here, would you like to come in? It’s pretty cold outside, you probably haven’t seen snow in a couple years.”

He wasn’t wrong after all. You were freezing your toes off and were itching for lemon tea. The kind Phil used to make when he, Technoblade and Dream discussed plans on destroying L’manburg. Ah, the good ol days…

“Of course! We’ve got a lot to talk about- you still have that old chess board?”

“Yes, but first you have some explaining to do about the fire over in that tree, Y/n. You just got back and you’re already burning down forests?!”

“Did someone say fire?”

Techno has an eager stride in his step once he also looks back to see the raging lights of orange and red in the nearby forest.

“Don’t worry Phil! It’s just- ahh, a controlled burn..?”

Your tone of voice is unsure when a black crow shoots down from the sky into the snow in front of you. It’s left wing is charred and has smoke dancing from the burn. Philza looks at you with a stern glare.

“Oh my f*cking god…that’s it! We’re all going inside now, you too Techno. I don’t want you and Y/n going on a rampage.”

[thedukedudeinadress]

Into The Northern Forest

Chapter Two: Mylingen, Hustomten and Skogstomten

———————————————————————

He didn't have a name. As soon as he'd been born he'd been killed. His mother didn't want him and the fact that he got no name made him stay.

If he'd lived he would've been fourteen that day when he found his way to a small cottage in a forest.

He knew he was supposed to show himself to the people, sing and dance but he wasn't exactly interested. Instead he stayed in between the walls, hiding. He did sing though. It was all he had to do.

However, he didn't sing creepy lullabies about how his mother had killed him but songs he'd heard living people sing.

One night as he sat between the walls, singing, he got interrupted.

"Pardon me, could you be so kind not do that? It's scaring the dog, and the dog being scared scares the kid" a monotone voice said. He looked up, seeing a short man with glasses.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." he looked at the man, tilting a head a little. "Are you a house elf?" The man nodded and straightened his glasses. "Why don't you wear a hat?"

"Because it's silly" he said as the unbaptised stood up. "I would ask for your name but I'd guess you're a myling?"

"Yeah..." he answered with a small nod.

"Ah, I'm sorry"

After a few moments of awkward silence the unbaptised lifted his head. "What's your name?" He asked hesitantly.

"Logan"

-

Patton was picking flowers when he heard someone approach him. He turned around, ready to hide but instead seeing a familiar face.

"Ah, Logan!" He said happily, walking up to him. "What are you doing out of the house..?" His voice trailed off as he noticed the child behind the house elf. "I-Is that a myling?"

"Yes, he-" the house elf started but got interrupted by the gnome.

"Aww, poor thing" he said, pouting, looking at the unbaptised.

The unbaptised looked a little shocked as the gnome walked up to him. Logan turned  around to look at them, the most shocking thing to him was however that the house elf smiled.

"I'm Patton" he said, offering a hand for him to shake.

He looked at the hand in slight confusion before taking it. To his surprise his hand didn't go right through the other's as he shook it.

"N-nice to meet you" he said, glancing down in awe at his hand.

The gnome smiled at him. "Hmm... A? No.. V?" He said before turning to the house elf "What do you think Logan?"

"V, probably" he answered, straightening his glasses.

The unbaptised looked at Patton, to Logan and then back at Patton as to question what they were talking about.

"Oh! We're gonna give you a name! We can't actually help you but... having some sense of identity is important" Patton stated.

The unbaptised's eyes widened a little, making the gnome giggle.

The house elf stood, rambling names on V as the gnome eyed at him. "Vincent? Victor? Valter?... Vilhelm?... Vvvvv-"

"Virgil" the gnome suddenly said.

The house elf looked at him, then the unbaptised. "You know, that's actually quite fitting"

"Virgil?" The unbaptised asked.

"Yeah! What do you think?"

"I- I like it... thanks"

"Of course kiddo!" Patton said with a smile before turning to Logan.

"Hey, since you're out for once, why not join me for some tea?" He said with a wink, then turning to the other. "You're invited too Virgil"

ART BY juicey.butthole on Instagram

[btsjfans]

Pay Up (pt 2)

Summary: Your parents only wanted what was best for you, so when they set you up with billionaire playboy Park Jimin, they thought you were set for life. Little did they know how he got his fortune, and how he keeps it..

Jimin x Reader, some fluff, smut, action, gang-stuff, illegal business-y stuff, the whole nine yards

~vvvvv light brief smut in this chapter, nothing intense~

masterlist

part 1

It was like he was a drug.

After one hit, you were hooked.

His lips, his touch, his everything, sent you on a high you couldn't come off of. 

You’d spent every day with him after that, like an obedient pet. You never were the completely submissive type but you would do everything and anything for this man. You’d spend nights on end with him, just savoring his mere presence. This man was different, and he was yours.

You could tell he felt the same, it was quite obvious in the little things he did. The way he’d keep his hand on your lower back protectively, the way he would glare at over boys who would look at you, the way he looked at you in general. His eyes would soften, and his plump lips would press together as he would repress his smile. His pupils would dilate, and he would look at you like you were the only girl in the world.

You knew it was crazy.

You knew it was untamed passion.

But you felt love for this man anyway.

Everything he did set you off. His touch was like fire, his smell was intoxicating, and his lips were like candy.

 He took you out to charity events with him, he would show you off to his business friends, a smug look lighting his face as you stayed close to his side, following him around all night. The first charity event he’d taken you to was one to raise money to expand the already plentiful museum. You’d worn your finest red silk and chiffon dress, and wore your simplest, and purest silver diamond necklace. His eyes drank you in like champagne, and he never took his hands off of you the entire night. 

Every night was filled with passion, from his hot breath on your neck to his lips on your breasts, you never went to bed unsatisfied. In fact, every time you went to bed, you were so worn out you didn't have time to consider how satisfied you were before you were fast asleep. 

The honeymoon phase where you two spent every waking moment together soon ended. His work picked back up again, and your visits with him became less frequent. His calls soon stopped coming, your texts were hardly read. 

You felt like you didn't know what to do with yourself. You felt restless, trapped. Every night with him was freeing, every second with him was like breathing fresh air for the first time. 

His absence continued on for one week, then two. By week 4 you wondered if he’d just forgotten you entirely. You’d visited the museum, hoping you’d catch a glimpse of him, but you’d left disappointed. You’d never been hung up on a man like this before, you’d never been the one left hanging. 

The 5th week had just passed, and you’d begun to wonder if it was time to move on. Amid these thoughts, you got a text from Jimin. It was short, it was vague, but it still left your heart pounding. 

Be ready in 5

You’d flown to your closet, tearing through your wardrobe before picking a black t-shirt dress and a jean jacket, matched with a simple diamond necklace and basic but appealing makeup. You raced out to the front door just as the sleek black town car pulled up.

You smoothed your dress and took a breath to steady yourself before walking out as the chauffeur opens the door for you. You slide into the car, pleased to see Jimin waiting. Just as the door closes behind you Jimin slides up the barrier between the backseat and the frontseat, giving you two total privacy. 

He pulls you close, brushing his hands over your hair, your face, your body, everything. His eyes are hooded and dark as he looks you up and down. His breath is heavy, as if he’d just ran 10 miles before picking you up. It’s your turn to look him up at down. Your hands slide up into his dark hair, sliding down to his neck and shoulders. He’s wearing a black crew neck with a grey blazer coat, and dark grey dress pants. His hair is messy, and yet so nicely done at the same time. He’s just like he was last time you saw him. 

“God I missed you,” in an instant his lips are on you, hot and powerful. His hands slide up your body, squeezing and feeling, as if letting his hands revisit every nook and cranny they’d once been so familiar with. You gasp against his lips and tighten your hands in his hair, kissing him back, letting him take control. Your jacket is off within seconds, and he starts to pull your dress up when you both feel the car stop. He lets out a frustrated growl before pulling your dress back down, and sliding your jacket on. He chuckles a little and reaches out, gently caressing your face before smoothing your hair softly, and lightly pressing a kiss on your lips. You both have a pinkish tint in your cheeks as you exit the car. You’re parked in front of the museum, where there’s a big truck parked outside of. 7 men struggle to carry in a large painting that’s concealed with brown paper. Jimin watches proudly as it’s carried inside, before turning his proud gaze to you.

“Lets take a walk.”

The two of you stroll down the sidewalk, hand in hand. You feel a sense of purpose and calm as you walk by his side, as if you were doing the most important thing in the world. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t reach out to your for the last while, I had some..very important work matters, and I couldn’t afford to be day dreaming about my love in the midst of it all. But that’s beside the matter, I hope you aren't annoyed with me for that, or for my sudden arrival.” He muses, squeezing your hand gently as you two walk. 

“I could never be mad at you,” You have trouble getting the words out, as your mind keeps replaying the words “my love” over and over again in your head. 

“Mmm you’re so sweet, so pure.” He chuckles and pulls you close, kissing you. The way he looks at you as he holds you close makes you blush; he has such a fond smile, and a joyful glint in his dark eyes. “Y/n, I’ve just got some new artwork for my museum, and I’m having a gala to celebrate it, would you come as my date? It’s tomorrow night.” He brushes your hair back softly, his fingers gently tracing over your cheekbone.

“Of course Minnie, what should I wear?” You smile leaning into his hand.

“Well how about we go find you something.” 

The two of you head to every high end store on the block, Gucci, Prada, the works. You both try on silly outfits, and mix and match dumb combinations, giggling and receiving dirty looks from the workers there. You spend the rest of the afternoon on your dress hunt, before Jimin finds something that stops your heart. 

It’s a deep blue high low dress with a low v-neck. He reverently hands it to you, and ushers you into a changing room. You’d worn plenty of expensive dresses, but this one seemed different. Jimin was entranced by it enough that the idea of him watching you in it made it seem 10x’s fancier. As you slid on the heavy, silky material, you felt a smile slip onto your face. This was the dress. You quickly took it off before getting dressed and leading Jimin to the checkout.

“Why can’t I see it?” He whines as you two walk to pay.

“You’ll see it tomorrow.” You smile cheekily. 

Having him wait to see you in the dress was one of your best ideas yet. As you excited the foyer of your house, all done up in the dress, to say his jaw dropped would’ve been a severe understatement. 

Your hair had been meticulously curled and pinned into a loose updo, your makeup done simply but definitively, and a simple diamond necklace laying ornately on your collarbone. Needless to say, you felt like royalty already, and like a queen as his arms enveloped you. 

“Jagi I..” His words were breathy as he encircled you in his arms, taking in every inch of you. His dark eyes were wide as he looked you up and down. His hands were soft as they traced your bare skin. His words were loving as he whispered sweet nothings into your hair. 

“Minnie,” you giggled, pushing on his chest. You knew he would compliment you when he saw you in the dress, but you weren't expecting this. He was like a child on christmas, needily reaching and touching all over, unable to control himself with a look of glee in his eyes. 

“Sir, we need to go,” a tall slim man with floppy dark hair awkwardly clears his throat from behind Jimin. 

“You’re right Chanyeol,” Jimin stands up straighter smoothing his blazer gingerly before leaning down to you once more, leaving his hand on your lower back and letting his lips brush your ear as he whispers, “we’ll pick up where I left off later,”

The two of you slide into the car, Jimin keeping you close to his side the whole car ride, cracking little jokes and making you laugh, easing your pre-gala nerves. 

As you two get out of the sleek car, paparazzi line the sidewalks, calling your names and jeering at the two of you as Jimin guides you through into the crowded but ornate gala. You already felt like all eyes were on you when you were with Jimin normally, but as you step in you can tell people are looking just at you this time. Men smirk and nod proudly at Jimin, and girls eye you up, impressed. You smile and look to Jimin, who’s already looking at you, dark eyes filled with admiration as he stares at you. 

“God I love you,” he breaths, before placing a soft kiss on your cheek. 

As the two of you spend the night dancing and mingling, he never takes his hands off of you: whether it’s just a hand on your lower back, to encircling you in hugs, you never leave his side. 

Despite how happy you are, you feel a twinge of discomfort, as though you’re being watched. You cast your eyes around, but never find the source of your weariness. You even catch Jimin frowning, his eyes searching the room several times, before he would smile and assure you he was fine. 

Around 11:30, he leaves you for a moment to discuss business with an old friend, leaving you to fend for yourself for the first time that night. You take in the gala, with it’s intricate and ornate decor. Women flounce by in the finest of gowns, followed by their handsome and dutiful men. You smile, imagining you and Jimin attending these events for the rest of your life, his hands never leaving your body as he gazes at you adoringly, his-

You’re thoughts are interrupted by a kind and mischievous looking man approaching you. He has loose wavy blonde hair, and dark eyes with a playful smile gracing his lips. 

“Mind if I have this dance?” The man quirks a smile, winking as he sweeps you off your feet. “The name’s Taehyung, and you are?” 

“Y/n,” You laugh, surprised at his sudden boldness.

“Y/n, such a lovely name. Now Y/n, what’s a princess like you doing here all alone?” He tilts his head, smiling as the two of you dance.

“I came with Park Jimin actually, he’s just over with an associate right now.” You smile casting your eyes over to where he stood, only to find him missing. You shrug it off, deciding to pay attention to Taehyung for now. 

“Park Jimin? The lucky bastard, he has the museum and you? Man, I wanna know who he’s praying to, to get this blessed.” Taehyung chuckles, and you laugh. 

“Surely you couldn't have come alone,” You smile, taking him in. He’s a handsome man, and a kind one too, so it is surprising he doesn't have a date wrapped around his finger. 

“Nah I fly solo, just here for the food.” He chuckles, and briefly glances over your shoulder, before you feel his hands tighten around your waist as you dance. “So uh tell me about you and Jimin,” 

“Well,” You pause, starting to get an uncomfortable vibe from him. You’d been raised in a very stable, reliable life though, and you decided at an art gala why wouldn't you be able to trust him? “He and I have been together for about two months, I think it’s pretty serious, I see it being long term.” You smile proudly. 

“Aw that’s so special! You’re a cute girl, you two deserve each other. Hey um, can I have your number? Ya know, so I can stay in touch with my new best friend?” Taehyung grins and squeezes your side, making you laugh. 

“Of course,” You grin and type your number into his phone, letting him do the same with your phone. 

“Thanks doll, I gotta run.” He pulls you in for a quick hug, before sending a wink to somebody over your shoulder. As you turn to see who he winked at, you’re met with an unhappy Jimin charging over. You turn back to say something to Taehyung, only to see he’s gone. You start to turn back to Jimin when he crashes into you. He grabs your wrists, an intense look in his eyes.

“What were you doing with that man?” He asks in a low voice. 

“I--We just danced I don’t know,” You’re flustered at this behavior, and suddenly feel ashamed.

“Does he know you’re name? Does he know you’re with me? What does he know about you?” Jimin pulls you aside, his dark eyes scanning the crowd. 

“Um he has my number, he knows my name, he knows we’ve been together for like 2 months, and I uh told him it was getting serious.” The worlds tumble out all at once. You watch his face as you confess, and pride yourself as his intense expression softens as you say it was getting serious. 

After a moment he sighs burying his face in his hands. “God I hate myself.” he mutters, leaving you flabbergasted. He looks up at you again, seeming weary. “Y/n, we need to have a talk.” 

The two of you exit the gala, he walks you around to a little garden with a small pond and fountain. He sits you down on a bench with him, his arm around your shoulders, holding you close against his side. 

“I understand you may not want to be with me after I tell you this..but I want you to know how much I love you Y/n, I-”his voice wavers a little and he takes in a shaky breath. “I really do love you. More than you’ll ever know. I love you with all my heart and I would do anything for you. Anything.” He looks into the moonlit pond for a moment, rehearsing his next words in his head. You feel an anxious pit in your stomach as you prepare. What did he do that’s so bad? Why does he want you to stay away from Taehyung? Why wouldn't you want to be with him?

“Y/n, I do a lot of illegal stuff. I forge art, I pay off bad people to get both real, and forged art. I work with a lot of bad people, I work against a lot of bad people. If I ever got caught, they would put me away for a long time, okay. I am a bad..bad man. And some people, well they try to come for me so they can get what I have. People like Taehyung, want my museum, and my girl, and my money and fame..and they would go to extreme measures to get it. Like coming for you. That’s why I don’t want you to talk to Taehyung anymore. Thats why I need you to stop talking to Taehyung. Y/n I love you so much, and I know this isn’t what you planned your life to be like, but if you stay with me things will get..intense. But I swear to you I would go to the ends of the Earth if it meant keeping you safe.” He pulls away and looks at you, his dark eyes churning with emotion in the moonlight. “All I ask is that if you do want to end things, you keep my secret.” 

You look at him for a moment, processing everything he said. Yeah, this wasn't ideal, but this was him. This was your Jimin. You always wanted an exciting life, and a heart-racing romance, and this was it. 

“I could never end things with you,” You say softly, reaching out to cup his face. He grabs your hand as you reach out, before falling to his knee and pulling out a small velvet box, the same color of your dress. He pops it open, revealing a stunning silver diamond ring. 

“Then marry me.”

“So he’s got a girl now?” Namjoon chuckles as he puffs on his cigar, looking out  over the city.

“Yeah, a real stunner too. Some rich girl, Y/n. I’d go for her myself honestly.” Taehyung muses as he pours a glass of champagne for himself and Jaebum, who sits in silence at the counter. 

“So what now?” Youngjae pipes up from his spot next to Jaebum.

“Now we take her out.”

[alchemyphan-blog]

This Was Not a Love At First Sight Story

word count: 2.9k

style: oneshot

desc: Dan works at a cafe and starts pining over a regular customer who likes to order ridiculous coffees and edit his videos. 2009 AU. Written in 2014. 

a/n: it feel so good to be back and posting vvvvv old fics i wrote!! more to come :) 

also an ancient fucking relic when it was cool to write in first person lmao bye this is cringe

Monday, 1:48 P.M.

Working the midday shift guaranteed for quite a different vibe of people. People weren’t rushing around to get their coffee and breakfast, and it wasn’t loud and obnoxious like the dinner shift. It was so laid back, and people always had an inviting presence.

It found itself particularly inviting on a certain day in October.

I cleaned the counter willingly, as given this shift actually made me more looking forward to going to work each day. From behind the counter I watched as people started to occupy the restaurant. One particular man walked in a few minutes after the midday ‘rush’, and sat right in my ideal view. He opened his MacBook, coated in a layer of vibrant stickers. I smiled, and right away I could tell the kind of guy he was - I had earned the ability to do that ever since I started working here. He was the kind of guy that would go for a long time without saying something, then out one of his thoughts. It was like he was running wild in his own place, and was a visitor of the real world. He was the kind of guy I had always wanted to have in my life.

He looked to be about 22, which made it almost impossible for me to talk to him, me not even 19 yet. But I watched him from behind the counter. I could see a sliver of what was on his laptop - it was his own face. His mouse dragged segmented clips of himself with a tiny lion on his shoulder around. I watched him there for at least two minutes before willing myself to take his order. I just happened to be working that section today, a part I never usually do. Something welled up inside me and I felt like it was for a reason. Surely I was just being silly. This was not a love at first sight story we’d tell our kids.

And then I realized - in the time span of 4 minutes I had imagined us with children. I sighed, and lightly slapped my cheek as a discipline for thinking that. You don’t even know his name, I thought.

I looked behind the counter I was stood at and adjusted my hair in the gargantuan mirror. I straightened my black polo I had worn for the past 5 shifts of work, even though I had two others.

Okay Dan, stop this. Just take his order and get out of his hair. What is your problem?

 I found it in myself to open the notepad shaking in my clammy hands.

“Hi, w-what can I get you?” I managed out, my voice cracking. I felt so stupid.

He let out a chuckle. Without looking up from his laptop yet, he began to respond.

“Erm, I’ll have a caramel macchiat-,” he started, his eyes glazing over me. I suddenly felt extremely exposed with his stare on me. Sweat dripped down the back of my neck.

He blinked hard a few times. For the first time, we looked at each other.

You could go swimming in those eyes.

A perfect shade of blue, surrounded with a green tint and specks of yellow. I couldn’t stop staring at them.

Time slowed. Everything seemed to blur and it seemed like we were the only things left walking this realm. I tried to shake myself from my own mind when I’d noticed I had been staring at his lips for at least 20 seconds.

Way to go, you just completely freaked him out, I told myself. But I wonder what it’s like to kiss this man. Was he the type his persona proved him to be? Or was he unpredictable and impossible to read?

Either way, I wanted to find out. But first I just needed his order.

I coughed, looking down.

“So that was a, um, caramel macchiato?” I asked him, leaving off where he stopped.

He looked up at mean again. “Yes, thank you...Dan,” he said, reading my name tag. I vigorously blushed. He just said my name.

I nodded in his direction, and ran away as quick as possible to make him his coffee. Not very many people came in for coffee at 2 P.M. anymore. It was a nice change of pace for this time of day, as most days I didn’t usually get to show off my coffee skills.

I capped the lid on his drink and ran it back over to him, setting it down on the table next to the chair he was sat in.

“Thank you so much. How much is it?” he asked, smiling.

“Oh, it’s-it’s on the house today,” I said quickly. Did I just scare him off paying for his coffee?

“Really? That’s so nice of you, thank you,” he said. I ducked my head for a response, scurrying away.

God, why the hell was I so awkward? 

 Wednesday, 1:51 P.M.

It had been torture the next day. All I could think about was seeing him again, but I knew I had blown it. I slapped myself thinking about how much I had thought about him. I didn’t even know him. For all I know he’s not even from around here and that is all we will know of each other for as long as we live.

But that afternoon a familiar face walked in the door. It had gotten at least 20 degrees colder in two days and by now I was wearing the long sleeve shirt they had supplied me with. He was wearing a lightened purple sweater advertising a blue wolf on it. I found it insanely adorable. He had brought his laptop with him again, another sticker I found had been added to the collection. Indulging in the free wifi, I watched him log into YouTube and lurk around channels, something I’d do a lot of in my free time. He pulled down a tab and clicked ‘upload video’, something I only dreamed of doing one day. The video that was projected onto his screen the days previous was now being added to the world of YouTube. I let him commence the process but realized it took much longer than that, maybe why he’d come here to pass time while waiting.

I walked over to him again. I felt like some kind of stalker.

My eyes lit up when he turned up to me and smiled. A wave of relief came over me when he spoke.

“You’re back! I was hoping I’d see you again,” he said.

My mouth felt like it was sealed shut. Did he actually just tell me he was happy to see me?

“R-really?” I stuttered. My cheeks flourished.

“I-um, yeah,” he suddenly replied quietly, looking down. “N-it doesn’t matter. Forget I said that.”

“No, no,” I told him, “I, um, kind of haven’t stopped thinking about you since you were last here. I felt like I scared you off paying for your coffee and acting weird.”

He didn’t quite reply to that, but just stood there twiddling his thumbs. He invited me to sit down.

Being truthful, I had stayed an extra half an hour past my shift, seeing if he would walk in again.

Graciously, I accepted his offer and sat down in a chair mirroring his, a footrest sharing space between us.

“I’m Dan,” I told him. It was only moments after I realized he already knew that.

“I know,” He said, smirking. “My name is Phil.” Phil. His name tingled to say in my mouth. It was perfect just like him.

“It’s nice to meet you, Phil,” I said, saying his name for the first time. He shook my hand. Electrons buzzed and shocked and illuminated at the touch of our skin, and it was so magical. I just wanted to keep his hand in mine forever, but it seemed a tad bit unrealistic.

Silence hung over us as I attempted to keep the conversation flowing.

“I like your stickers,” I said, pointing to a particular one stating ‘I <3 Your Mum’. He giggled.

“Yeah, that’s one of my favorites, and that one,” he said, pointing to a sticker with Sarah Michelle Gellar’s face covering it.

“Do you ever just wanna get her face tattooed onto yours?” I stated, instantly feeling like freak. This sensation didn’t last for long.

“Yes!” he exclaimed, and my face heated up. I was actually talking to him this very moment.

 “So how long’ve you been working here?” he asked me.

“Well I’ve been working in the industry for about five years ago, it being my first job. I came here about 3 ½ years ago, and I really like it. Recently I got moved from the night shift to the afternoon shift and I like it a lot more. I actually look forward coming to work now,” I told him.

“That’s great to hear! Maybe if you hadn’t we wouldn't have met.” “Funny the way things work out.” We looked at each other as the silence was less unbearable this time.

His laptop made a soft noise. His video had uploaded.

“About time,” he muttered, mostly to himself. I saw him smile a little as another had added to his collection and watched him annotate it quietly.

For a moment he disregarded everything surrounding him. It was really cute, the way he could just detach and hook himself onto something he valued. After a moment he looked up again.

“Sorry, my uh, video uploaded,” he said shyly. I think he expected me to be confused, but I just smiled and nodded knowingly. It felt quite reassuring for him I suppose, not having to explain the concept of what YouTube can really mean to someone. He probably did it quite a lot when people asked him what his job was.

 And then we just sat, not very much in silence but in our own thoughts. I shifted awkwardly in my seat, trying not to make it look like I was as nervous as I was; but he just sat there. He looked comfortable and content, and I began to think if my theory I had depicted of him had been correct. I watched him think there for a few minutes.

After exactly 2 minutes and 12 seconds, he spoke.

“Isn’t it crazy how things just sort of happen? Like here I am, a college student trying to make a living on this website and getting coffee paid for by a really cute guy when even a year ago I wouldn’t have even dreamt of this happening.”

Wait. He just called me cute. Did he just call me cute? He did. Phil just called me cute. Oh my God.

I tried to remain calm exteriorly, but inside I was manically and utterly spazzing.

“I know, I mean a year ago I was probably handing in my A-Levels and dozing off in a geography class from having stayed up all night doing the coursework. I never thought this would happen,” I replied. I had minorly revealed my age. I wanted him to think I was older and smart like him, but in reality I was just a cripplingly awkward and nervous teenager that’s just scraped by my whole life. I was waiting for things to take off. Maybe I just had to wait longer than others did.

 Before I knew it we had been sat there for over 2 hours and the new workers had already commenced preparing for the dinner rush waiting to happen. I warned him about it.

“Yeah, we should probably get out of here. Um, what are you doing this week?” he asked me. I loved how cute and quiet he went when he was trying to flirt on any level. I knew for a fact I wasn’t any better.

“Let’s see, it’s Wednesday today, I’m working here Tomorrow and Saturday,” I said, trying to correctly memorize my schedule.

“Okay, cool. I’ve got class early tomorrow morning, but this time Saturday I don’t. Maybe I’ll stop in and we can talk again. I really liked this,” he said, gaining more confidence.

“I’ll be here,” I told him, now both of us huddled together outside the shop. I was carrying something of his by the opposing side of my body. I didn’t want him to forget it.

“Oh, I forgot to pay you again for the coffee,” he told me. I held a hand out to his shoulder: “It’s no problem. Don’t forget it by the way,” I said, holding his coffee in my hand I know showed him.

“I’m so forgetful. Thank you again, you don’t have to keep buying it for me, though. I may be broke, but I’m not that broke.”

He began to slowly walk up the street, and I watched him from inside the shop see the smiley face I had written next to my phone number. Luckily he didn’t see me.

 It had been almost a year since our first encounter, and we have been together for over 7 months. By now I had let my boss in on my not-so-secret love affair with a customer.

“So we were right?” he asked me. I stared at him confused.

He turned to the co-workers behind him. “We’ve been having a poll going for how long it would take for you to catch on that this is in fact a love at first sight story, as much as you say it isn’t,” He said. 2 of the 4 huffed and handed him a few tens.

“Are you serious? No, that’s not what it is, and you’re just gonna have to give that money back,” I protested.

“Dan, I was here when he first walked in. I saw you two look at each other and boom, love at first sight sparks went off,” Gale, the best barista, told me. “You’re all delusional. That is not what this is,” I said again. This was still not a love at first sight story. It’s been that way since the day we met.

“Whatever you say, but I saw it. With my own two eyes,” she said, making a V-shape with her fingers pointing towards her pupils.

 He walked in the door. I withdrew myself from the conversation, more argument, and practically leaped overtop the counter separating us. Only 2 people were in the whole restaurant that weren’t workers, now 3.

“Phil!” I almost screamed. He ran over to me, smiling. He pushed me up against the outer side of the counter, kissing me. His hands grazed down from the sides of my face to my hips. I kept mine strung around the center of his back. I didn’t even care that my co-workers, not to mention my boss, were sat right on front of me. Usually I’m good about keeping it on the DL, but with Phil participating in PDA is no problem for me. I want everyone to know he’s mine, and he’s not going anywhere.

He drew away.

“Hi, Bear,” he said, just loud enough for me to hear and the others to barely. I curled my head to rest on his bony shoulder and he rubbed my back for a moment. I looked up to him, and my eyes lit up. I loved looking at him and every part of his beautiful structure - his glistening eyes, not tampered by any form of lighting, his rising and reddened cheekbones. It was starting to get cold again, and I had helped him drag out his jumpers two weeks ago. I snuggled into it. I heard the shutter of a camera go off from the tribe of black shirts huddled behind the counter, and they all surrounded the source and giggled. I sighed and glared at them.

Phil and I walked over to the phone and saw it was a picture of my gaze at Phil.

“If you don’t call that love at first sight, then I don’t know what is,” one said.

I would not be winning this battle.