#everyday I thank god for paint markers

[fossilized-honey]

I got some busted up chucks for free at the uni thrift and spent 2 1/2 hours decorating them

It’s my first time doing something like this and I’m relatively pleased with the results :)

[heegyukeluv]

fall for you (lhs) - req

pairing: heeseung x afab reader

synopsis: Dealing with midterm exam season has always been stressful. Luckily, you have a boyfriend who would do anything to bring your joy back.

my's note: i loved writing this i'm in love with this work ty so much for the request ☹️💘

warnings: fluff, established relationship, reader loves autumn/fall, reader blushing/turning red! LMK if missed anything!!!

request: can you write about fem reader who gets so excited for autumn to the point where the sight of the leaves changing colors makes her squeal and jump up and down! unfortunately, it’s also midterm season and... (full request here!)

wc: 5k

NOT PROOFREAD.

taglist 💖: @yvnempire @marigold-sunflowers

“I feel you’re too close to turning into a highlight marker.”

The quiet room was suddenly filled by your boyfriend’s soft and playful voice, startling you out of your focused state. You let out a small chuckle with his comment as you leaned back on the chair to stretch, closing your eyes while groaning.

Your whole body ached for being in the same position for God’s know how long, your head felt heavy and your eyes deeply tired. The words in front of you have long gone lost sense and the study material wasn’t sinking enough to boost your confidence, so you had an obstacle that restrained you from stopping your study time – and it was purely yourself. 

Splitting your day into having a part-time job and college was definitely your biggest decision, aware of the fact that your life would constantly feel like going down in shambles, especially during certain times like the midterm season, where it asked for your bestest and you couldn’t completely offer, since you had other responsibilities in your life.

To use your weekend and any free time to study was the only option. That added to Heeseung being your clingy, adorable boyfriend led you to the ongoing situation: you, using his desk as your personal place, his internet connection that works way faster than your dorm’s, and his clothes, just because they’re comfy.

“I hope I’m the orange one, then,” you shot back with a sly smile, glancing at Heeseung, who calmly approached with your mug – decorated with fall leaves and a cute fox playing with them –, handing it to you as he rested his hip on the desk, looking down at you with his usual tender gaze and breathtaking smile. 

You had dark circles under your tired, now faintly reddish eyes, indicating your exhausted state. Heeseung knew about your current routine, a complete stress mess preventing you from doing your everyday chores; your face constantly buried in books and articles, studying the entire semester’s content like your life depended on it – and it felt like it did.

You needed to be taken care of with as much love as possible, something Heeseung had overflowing for you.

“You’d be the prettiest one,” he answered back with a grin, crossing his arms and tilting his head to admire you.

“Thanks,” you whispered sincerely – for the hot cocoa he just made you and the compliment –, holding back a shy smile before taking a sip from the warm liquid; the sweet taste dissolved in your tongue and made you close your eyes, your whole body feeling gradually relaxed.

“You should rest a little, my love,” Heeseung murmured, cupping one of your cheeks with his warm hand, his thumb caressing your skin as you leaned into the touch – eyes closed, enjoying the heartwarming feeling spreading through your chest. 

His other hand gently brushed a strand of hair that was on your face, revealing it full to his eyes as an enchanting painting. Although you looked extra tired, there was something about your beauty that would make you easily gorgeous no matter your condition. 

Nonetheless, among your many beautiful and stunning facets, the stressed, overworked one you wore right at that moment was one that Heeseung hated to witness. 

Heeseung would do anything to get your back into your normal demeanor. Seeing you killing your sleep time, eating easy meals and consequently unhealthy foods, giving up on your social life and sometimes, even leaving aside your relationship with him was as painful as a bullet.

Heeseung was your biggest defender, protector and, mainly, lover. He devoted his life for you, if that meant to have you forever by his side, and he always would cherish your happy side.

“I know,” you whined with a pout, fluttering your eyes open, getting a look at Heeseung’s worried eyes. “I’m tired, but I can’t stop now,” you murmured, placing the mug on the desk and grabbing your orange pen to keep on remarking the important topics. 

Heeseung sighed, aware of your stubborn personality that was one of his favorite things about you – how determined you were, how always right you sounded, how confident you sustained your words –, and also the hardest part in moments like those. 

“But you have to…” He muttered back, lowering himself on his knees to turn the rolling chair towards his direction, stopping you from keeping writing and holding both your hands with his big ones. “Let’s go to bed, hm? It’s super late,” he said and gently pulled one of your hands closer to his lips to press a sweet kiss on the back of it.

“No, it’s not–” You tried to fight back, thinking Heeseung was making things up just to have you with him in bed, cuddling, as he did some other times. 

However, his serious tone after he reinforced it with a firm nod, tightening his grip to prevent you from turning back, got you confused. “It is.”

You blinked a few times, only now realizing how dark it seemed to be outside the window, before furrowing your eyebrows. When you started, the sun was still up. “What time is it?” You asked, voice small.

“2am.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered, flabbergasted, widened eyes as you watched Heeseung’s decrescent smile adorning his pretty cherry lips.  

“Yeah…” 

“And you’re still awake?” You asked baffled, with a strong layer of concern, freeing one of your hands to brush his bangs out of his forehead and caress his cheek gently.

“I’d never go to sleep without you if you’re in the same house as me, baby,” he admitted, his eyes gleaming with what you learned after years together as being love, then he kissed your palm and fully leaned into your touch, turning his head like a puppy.

“You’re too good for me and too sweet for this world, Hee,” you muttered, feeling a wave of mixed emotions rush through you, stress blending with the overwhelming love you felt for Heeseung.

A big part of you felt guilty for unconsciously leading Heeseung to stay awake due to your studies, the other was worried about his sleep schedule, and the other bubbling with the same lovestruck sensation that flooded your heart whenever Heeseung was near to you.

Heeseung's soft gaze remained locked on yours, the glow of the desk lamp highlighting the gentle lines of his face.

"Don’t stress about it," he replied in a caring tone, his thumb still tracing soothing circles on your hand that he held. "I’d stay up a thousand nights just to make sure you’re okay." His voice was soft, tender, the warmth in it wrapping around you like a comforting fluffy blanket.

Your eyes grew glossy as exhaustion finally began to take over, your body realizing it had reached its limit after getting to know the hour. Heeseung noticed the change immediately, observing as you let out a deep yawn, blinking back the moisture in your tired eyes and rubbing one of them with the hand that once cupped his face.

He straightened his body and leaned forward just enough to kiss your forehead with such tenderness it made your heart skip a beat, as if it was your first time receiving that touch. 

“Come on,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin before he stood up completely, going back to hold both of your hands. Heeseung was always so touchy and you loved that with all your heart. “Finish your hot choco and I’ll help you get ready for bed. How does that sound?” He nonchalantly swang your arms from side to side, as a child growing impatient, but you knew it was his way to keep your attention on him.

You hesitated, looking back at the pile of notes on the desk, feeling that familiar guilt start to creep up again. “But… I’m not done studying, Hee. There’s still so much…”

Heeseung shook his head mildly, pulling you to stand up before his long arms hugged you; the cozyness of his torso made you sigh in pleasure, allowing his body to completely embrace you, his fresh fragrance inebriating your airways enough to make you dizzy and even sleepier. 

He placed a kiss on the top of your head before saying, “Just finish your drink, ok? You can continue your studies tomorrow.” And when you tried to counter, he added, with a firm, yet tender tone. “No buts, please.”

“Ok,” you grumbled against the fabric of his sweatshirt, a sound so adorable that made Heeseung chuckle. 

He pulled away from the hug to kiss your lips, already imagining your pouty face even before seeing it. 

“I love you,” he declared and as if you heard from the first time, your heartbeats increased, your skin pricking up in an instant reaction and you smiled, shyly, accepting the sweet touch of his lips on yours.

“Iloveyoutoo,” your words now were all slurred due to the fatigue that crashed down your body blended with Heeseung’s soothing, peaceful presence. Your eyes struggled to keep open, making you blink slowly. 

At the end of the night, you didn’t drink all of your hot chocolate, and Heeseung willingly carried you to his bed, tucking you nice and cozy under the blankets and giving you a goodnight kiss before cuddling you. 

It was unquestionable that stress was eating you alive. Your stomach hurt almost every day at the thought of failing your exams, and to make it worse, your brain stubbornly refused to retain the materials you had studied over the past few days.

You expected to nail the first exam, which happened at the end of a busy day, even with the strong headache that pursued you throughout it. But you weren't too sure, and a few more other exams waited for you until you reached the end of that hellish midterm season.

However, the moment you stepped out of the classroom and headed towards the exit, hoping to go to your dorm to grab a bite before holing up in studies, you couldn’t help but smile as you started to notice autumn leaves dancing gently from the trees scattered across campus until they reached the paved ground.

The green foliage was gradually transforming into beautiful shades of brownish-orange, and a soft, sweet breeze caressed your face as you walked through the covered paths. A gentle chill rushed over your body, warmly hidden beneath the coat you had borrowed from Heeseung during your last visit, making you feel small and comfy.

You allowed yourself to close your eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, enjoying the autumn scent tickling your senses slowly.

The studying days had you oblivious to things surrounding you, eroding your possibilities of seeing life beyond academic books, so now, when you realized your favorite season’s arrival, your body felt like vibrating with a sudden surge of energy, an overwhelming urge to run and leap around like a child.

Yet, you knew that such carefree expression was a luxury not easily afforded in that moment, exposed to the judgmental world that would see you as a cringey, childish girl or anything similar, so you held yourself back and sighed, a little frustrated.

When you fluttered your eyelids open, expecting to face reality again, you were startled by a familiar presence.

“Oh?” You exclaimed, nearly jumping back on your feet as Heeseung stood just a few meters away, a curious expression lighting up his face. “What are you doing here?” you asked, your smile widening as he approached you. His presence, combined with the thrill of autumn beginning, made your heart stumble in between it beats.

Heeseung looked cozy as he tilted his head adorably, his eyes sparkling with affection as they roamed over your features, taking in your unique beauty and, surprisingly enough, your relaxed demeanor. He missed seeing your joyful side shining like that, and he had a huge hint about the reason due to the surroundings you both, now, were.

“I was thinking about you,” he answered sincerely, hands traveling all their way to your waist, tenderly holding you steady. Your own hands found comfort on his shoulders covered by a delicate fabric of his sweater, and Heeseung didn’t restrain his need to peck your lips once before continuing to say with his soft, and a layer of playfulness, voice. “Thought you could use some boyfriend-help after the exam you were stressing about.” 

You giggled, feeling your cheeks warming as if you experienced falling in love for the first time again.

Years would pass and you wouldn’t overcome your crush on Heeseung, always so gentle and caring, not to mention tremendously attractive, reiterating he was your boyfriend.

He had his hair dyed in a shade of pink that contrasted way too well with his slightly tanned skin, and his fluffy bangs covered his forehead, giving his face a touch of softness. It all matched too perfectly for your heart not to beat fast whenever you were together.

Before you could say anything, he added with a cute grin.

“But you seem very happy for someone who was stressed to the point of pulling out your own hair…”

He quirked an eyebrow while keeping his eyes locked on yours, and for brief a moment you wondered if word had stopped as you took in his perfection.

But Heeseung’s remark had you remembering your previous thrilling excitement for autumn. A smile creeped onto the corner of your lips, growing bigger and brighter as your eyes lit up immediately. 

“Autumn,” you whispered. 

It was all you needed to say before lightly throwing your head back, then to the side, as you took in the scene around you. The trees waved gently under your happy gaze, their leaves shifting in the breeze as Heeseung’s hands remained firmly around your waist, holding you close.

The sun was subtle against your skin, sky faltering with clouds, yet, nothing similar to the intense summer’s heat; just enough warmth to send a delightful shiver down your spine. This time, you didn’t suppress your euphoria at the sight of leaves falling, the gentle breeze swirling around you both, carrying the enjoyable atmosphere of autumn, each leaf a little reminder of the magic of the season.

“Look at them!” You squealed, your excitement too much to contain and being with Heeseung awakening your inner child.

You spun to the side, and Heeseung quickly followed, hugging you from behind as if refusing to let your warmth slip away. You pointed at the path covered in golden and orange leaves, spread like little stars on the vast ground. The trees stood tall, forming a natural arch over the main campus route, and while Heeseung’s eyes followed the scene, they inevitably drifted back to you.

“So pretty, isn’t it?” He murmured close to your ear, catching a glimpse of your beaming expression. He wasn’t talking about the scenery, though.

You nodded, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of happiness, oblivious to the true meaning behind Heeseung’s words.

Heeseung had a soft spot for you, it was undeniable. But moments like these made it even more evident, as he witnessed you allowing your true self to shine, unfiltered and excited over simple things. It worked as a silent proof that you felt comfortable enough around him, showing all your unique pieces carefreely.

And he loved to love every part of you.

You started to walk forward, eager to pass through the arch of pretty leaves, unaware of Heeseung's small whine he voiced out when you broke his embrace to only hold his hand, pulling him along.

He couldn’t help but watch, adoringly, as you took little skips and hops through the sea of leaves. His cherry-colored lips curved into a soft smile, eyes squinting into crescent moons as he did so, his heart swelling in love. The butterflies in his stomach danced to the rhythm of your steps, and his pulse quickened as you giggled along it, grounding him and, at the same time, drifting his feelings for you as light as a feather throughout his entire being.

Every excited sound you let out, pointing to the same things made his heart melt in love.

He was ridiculously in love with you.

But then, you stopped abruptly, turning to face him with puffed cheeks and a slight pout, your fingers playing nonchalantly with his. He approached, tilting his head.

“It’s such a shame I can’t enjoy this for long,” you mumbled, your joyful expression melting into a sad one, dropping your eyes down to the floor.

Heeseung’s brows furrowed immediately, his hand gently letting go of yours to cup your face, tilting it up until your eyes met his. He shook his head slightly, still frowning, his gaze full of tenderness as if refusing to let the stress steal away your happiness again.

“No,” he shook his head again, his thumbs brushing your cheeks in circles. You looked so pretty under the autumn aesthetic. “I don’t want you stressing again.”

You sighed, closing your eyes briefly as you leaned into his touch. “I can’t help it. There’s just so much to do and–” You fluttered your eyes open, locking your gaze onto Heeseung’s. “I feel like I’m constantly failing. I don’t know.”

Heeseung sweetly pressed his lips on yours once, twice, thrice, and a few more times until he got you smiling, shyly, trying to contain it but totally unable to do so.

“Here it is… The cutest, most perfect and gorgeous smile in the entire galaxy.” 

You rolled your eyes with Heeseung’s exaggeration, the heat surging to your cheeks immediately as you released yourself from his hands only to shove your head on his neck, giggling. Your actions elicited a laugh from him, his arms involving you gently, as if he was holding his entire world.

And to some extent, he was.

Heeseung’s chest vibrated as he spoke gently, the sound and feeling somehow relaxing your nerves immediately.

“I prepared something for you.”

You lifted your head only enough to glance at him, still pressing your torso onto his. “Yeah?” You asked, absorbing the handsomeness of your boyfriend as though you just met him. 

Heeseung would never fail to make you speechless and to take your breath away. And you didn’t quite admit it out loud, but although you always enjoyed fall, the weather itself and the views you got to see, after meeting Heeseung, he became one of your main reasons to love the season.

The first time you saw him was in a coffee shop.

Heeseung was sitting outside while drinking on his caramel macchiato, oblivious to the outside world that watched him so closely as he readed a book. You, being the said outside world, diving meticulously into your personal analysis that showed results about guys like Heeseung looking extremely attractive under the golden autumn sunlight. 

You ran away the moment his eyes flickered out of the words on his book, as if he felt the intensity of your gaze and started to look out for it.

The following days were pretty much like the first one, until you got a job in the same coffee shop and started to serve him the same order.

A caramel macchiato and, sometimes, a cupcake.

Unlike you, Heeseung was slightly forward with his intentions and didn’t retreat when he noticed how your eyes would linger into his figure longer than in any other consumer, or how your cheeks had a faint blush every time you approached him with his order, or even the timid smile adorning the corner of your lips when he complimented your services.

And then he complimented you.

Just like that, aiming straight to your heart and easily accomplishing his goal. 

You exchanged numbers, started to talk almost everyday to the point of becoming good friends.

Eventually, you caught yourself falling in love with Heeseung’s gentleness.

He would help you by placing his order on the table just to brush his fingers in yours. He would search for you even before searching for a table to sit. He would wait for you outside your class to hand you a box of chocolate, concerned about your stressed self over the midterms.

And you noticed he was falling for you too.

In a few weeks, you both would be celebrating one year into this comfortable relationship you cherished with your whole being. 

“Can you come to my apartment today?”

Heeseung’s voice snapped you back to the real world, and you never felt so happy about your thoughts being a reality. 

Yeah, you had Heeseung to yourself. How lucky.

“What’s with all this suspense, huh?” You questioned while giggling, Heeseung following your steps close behind, one hand covering both your eyes and the other holding your waist to help you move. 

“You’ll like it,” he answered, acting as if that amount of words would simply explain his decision to prevent you from catching a glimpse of whatever he had prepared, since the start of the hallway.

However, you knew how extra your boyfriend could be sometimes and let him do his thing.

“I bet I’ll.”

Alongside the curiosity swelling in your chest, the usual guilty feeling that accompanied you throughout your last weeks of long nights of study, forbidden you from finding time to take a break, to relax and recharge, appeared as well, slowly preparing your body to receive the bittersweetness dissolving in your palate every time you skipped your study routine during that time of the year.

You gulped, an inner battle happening that didn’t go unnoticed by Heeseung.

“Hee, you know I can’t stay.”

“Shh,” he shushed you, his warm breath brushing against your ear making you shiver. “I can help you study later. For now, let’s just relax. Can you do that for me?” He asked gently and you nodded, still hesitantly. 

You had reached the main door by the way he stopped walking and tightened his grip on your waist to stop you as well, and the sound of him unlocking it made your stomach swirl together with the key. Then Heeseung lightly pushed you forward with his chest pressing your back, hand still covering your eyes and now, the other arm, holding you close to his body.

By habit, you took off your shoes when you blindly understood you were now inside his apartment. Then, with a bit on your lower lip when Heeseung uncovered your eyes and rested his chin on your shoulder, almost feeling his smile as he whispered “Surprise,” you fluttered your eyelashes open, trying to adjust to the light.

However, to your surprise, his apartment was under a warm, comfortable dim light instead of its usual brightness. As your eyes wandered through his place, you noticed a few cozy blankets sprawled on the floor, next to the couch where a plush pumpkin with a cute face and a basket of things you couldn’t quite see sat perfectly together; a sweet invite to your attention.

“W–What?” You muttered confused, lips falling open as you turned to look at your boyfriend who only separated from you to affectionately read your genuine reaction, his bambi eyes shining brighter than all stars together.

You felt your heartbeats increasing, breath hitching a little, and for some seconds you couldn’t quite pinpoint if the reason was Heeseung or his sudden surprise. Or both.

“Thought that a cozy little at-home date could help you to de-stress,” Heeseung explained, his cheeks with a faint blush added to how he scratched his nape indicating he was getting shy. You smiled, getting closer. “I know it’s nothing big, but–”

“No,” you urged to interrupt whatever nonsense he was about to say by pressing his lips with yours in a caring kiss. “I loved it.”

You were aware of Heeseung’s insecurities with surprises or preparing things for you, always overthinking about your reaction and wondering if he could do better. 

And you tried your best to reiterate that, no matter what you did or where you went, the moment together with Heeseung was more than enough to make you happy and relaxed.

He was your safe haven.

Heeseung took a deep breath in relief before kissing you deeply, a hand cupping one side of your face and the other pulling you closer by the waist. You willingly let him in, tongues swirling together in a dance you both knew how to do pretty well, and yet led your stomach to flutter with something addicting, a feeling you would never get used to.

Heeseung kissed you tenderly, as always, quietly lowering his hand from your cheek to grab both your thighs and lift you with ease, lips still moving in sync, while your fingers caressed his face and hair, disheveling it without caring too much. 

You heard the door closing shut and felt Heeseung moving you both around after removing his own shoes, until he sat on the free space on the couch with you on his lap; nonetheless, it didn't feel rushed or lascivious. 

Heeseung’s touches, on your body and mouth, were sweet as caramel, slow as the sun rising lazily during evenings, cozy as a fuzzy blanket wrapping around you. You felt loved. Heeseung was loving you.

When you broke the kiss, Heeseung chased your lips to peck a few times as your breath mingled, trying to regulate it. He watched you smile with your eyes closed while he dotted your face with kisses, your giggling adding the gorgeous masterpiece you were under his gaze.

He leaned back after finishing his work of showering you with affection, grinning, eyes beaming with love. His hands draw circles on your clothed hips waiting for you to open your eyes, and when you did, his smile grew.

You immediately drifted your attention to the side and grabbed the pumpkin soft plush to hold in your arms tightly, inhaling the scent you recognized straightaway. “Did you spray your perfume in here?” You asked playfully, and by the way Heeseung shook his head, smirking and trying to avoid your eyes as a kid who got caught doing something wrong, you knew the answer already.

“I would never do something like that,” he shot back with a mischievous undertone, batting his eyelashes, feigning innocence. 

You chuckled, head throwing back slightly. “You’re so cute,” you murmured, leaning forward to peck on his lips before pulling away only to look out for the basket you saw earlier, his eyes following your movements expectantly. “What else do we have here, hm?” 

Heeseung straightened his posture on the couch, helping you to open the little gift he prepared for you, gentle hands brushing softly against yours. 

Once again, you had a flabbergasted expression adorning your features, “Is it a boo basket, my love?” You asked when it finally clicked, now rushing to go over each item from it.

There were two different flavored candles, one white and one dark red, some halloween themed sweets, including your favorite chocolate, a new mug for you collection, a facial mask and other skin care products, and lastly, a soft fabric that when you unfolded, revealed to be a beige sweater with a couple that looked pretty similar to you and Heeseung, with the phrasing “fall for you”, alongside some orange, yellow and brown leaves swirling around them. 

Heeseung drank from each of your reactions, how your eyes widened and shone with each new item you found inside the basket, your giggles with the heart shaped mug, your cheeks reddening in excitement, your smile never leaving your lips. 

“Did you like it?”

“Oh my God,” you whispered after finishing all your inspection, hugging the sweater, the corner of your eyes glistening with tears when you closed then, the action doing nothing to help you hold your emotions back.

“Are you crying?” Heeseung frowned, face suddenly dropping, concern dripping out of his voice. “Babe, why are you crying?” He searched for your face hidden behind the fabric of the clothing you hugged, trying to gently pull away to see you. You shook your head, forcing your weight forward to bury your face on his neck. 

“I love you so much,” you said, voice coming slurred as you pressed yourself into him even more, especially after his arms wrapped around your body and pulled you closer.

Heeseung’s chest vibrated with a delicate chuckle, now relieved to understand your reaction. “That’s why you’re crying?” 

“Mhm,” you mumbled, making him laugh once again, finding you too cute for his heart.

“I love you too, my love,” he said back, smiling.

The warmth of your embrace sent a wave of reassurance through Heeseung’s body. Your sweet presence, your joyful and memorable smiles, your contagious laughter. Everything was enough to make him love you even more each second, if that was possible. 

“Are you de-stressed?” He asked after a while, you even had removed the sweater from preventing you from feeling his heated skin against your lips. 

“Definitely,” you answered softly, your breathing coming as calm as the autumn’s wind whisper while you enjoyed his hug, noticing how his skin prickled with the tender brush of your lips on it. 

You waited for a few minutes, sniffling your tears away and searching for Heeseung’s eyes, that quickly rested in you, with the same sweet amount of warmth he carried with him. 

“Do we have a movie to watch?” You tilted your head to the side as you asked, knowing Heeseung’s ways to help you clear your head. Dating for over a year had it perks, and the routine you created together was the biggest one.

His smile was enough to answer your question, but he made sure to vocalize it too. “Oh, sure we do.”

And just like that, you found yourself resting your head on Heeseung’s chest as you both took the floor space under the cozy blankets, the scent of one of the candles you decided to open filling the room, as well as the low sound of the TV showing your favorite comfort movie, while your arm wrapped over the pumpkin plush and Heeseung’s waist, after eating some snacks together.

At some point, Heeseung looked at you and you felt the weight of his gaze, looking back at him. You smiled, grateful for having such a caring boyfriend that would do anything to ease the hard life for you.

On the other hand, Heeseung’s heart ached in love, glad to have you by his side. He already knew that, but it worked as a reminder.

He would keep falling for you in every season. 

[matchagyudon]

Charisma, Charisma Battle Anthem - Fumiya Ito English Lyrics Translation

TL Notes:

I kind of butcher it in the English translation, but what Fumiya calls a “Yukichi Bromide” is just 10,000 yen. He likes to collect a bunch of them like bromides, like a hardcore stan with their ita bags and rooms of the same merch. I think I managed to get the point across. The American version I guess would be “Lincoln Photocards” or something like that lol.

I really had to keep myself from writing “my peppy lil pro idol” because maybe Fumiya would have come off a little Discord admin-y. But I think Fumiya would do anything for some yen at this rate. Anyways, JPY is just the currency (Japanese Yen). Like how he calls the Yukichi note a bromide, he essentially relates JPY to an idol he adores.

そそり勃つ/sosoritatsu: To become erect (like a nipple/penis/etc).

I don’t even know how to explain where Amahiko gets asparagus from 野天門. 野天 (noten) is to be in the open air and 門 (mon) is gate. His ass is a gate…. Also thank you to my friend for pointing out that で (de) is in fact a location marker, and with the shape of asparagus…. You can see asparagus inside Amahiko’s Wild Gate ;)

札束 (satsutaba) is a bundle of cash/stack of money. So he’s collecting those bands!!!

“Do well on your mission and “you will be rewarded”. This most definitely has some religious connotation, given the verse as well as the whole thing of Fumiya and his “godly” message. A missionary going on a mission.

ビターな甘味処 “This place is bittersweet” 甘味処/kanmidokoro is a cafe featuring Japanese sweets. Bitter sweet[shop].

“Shit that makes something out of nothing call that Holy shit” Ohse our Holy Mary <3

Tera, peta, and exa are SI prefixes. Tera is 1012, peta is 1015, and exa is 1018. Lots of beauty to go around.

I can’t keep beating around the bush anymore with Amahiko. I try to fluff up anything he says but if he were to say “I LOVE ROUGH ANAL SEX” in full blown English what am I supposed to do at this point. I give up.

Fun fact! Look up χάρισμα. This is read as charisma…. Which in Greek, means gift of god! A divine boon.

Raps are not my strong suit. Maybe one day I’ll be able to make this make sense. In the meantime, I tried. Not my best work. I really appreciate the writers creativity though <3 even though it melts my mind a lot of the times.

“1, 2, 3” Chasin’, chasin’ after that paper like collectible photo cards “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7” Driven High, you’ll get your fair share “1, 2, 3” JPY, my peppy pro idol A handbook? Nah, how ‘bout a tour guide? “Charisma Style Rap Battle Break!”

Didn’t I already explain it to ya? Well to sum it up At the beginning of the week Let's call it Charisma Monday Interpol scatters Asia’s allies Marching alongside them, inciting right and wrong

Even birds who tweet their blessings have morals Attaining that QOL comes with responsibility Adulterated fraternizing, Not love for you Try to follow a different justice without diminishing it

Take advantage of that gap in my armor I’m a speedy, pro-slave Just a stray dog if you don’t call my name So tip my scale with endless burdens

Rebel then counter, counter, counter And counter again Lemme paint a picture of me for ya I’m like a coyote in the Sonoran desert Bloodthirsty and comin’ for ya throat

Beat down the greed that’s outta your league I’ve got a great view from down here like the shitty bug I am There’s 7 of us, but I’m the only dwarf The color of snow white Neurosis

No need for even a sliver of eccentricity Am I a necessity? “Seeking irregularities” Even from a long, long, long, long, long time ago, I’m a legacy Yes, I’m super beautiful ♪

The inevitable is calm So stiffen up This world’s fate is sexy! It’s sexy to read “Amahiko’s Wild Gate” With “ASSparagus!”

Magnificent 7th wonder I reach out and grab some bands Now it’s time to shine This Charisma Alchemy We’ve already got it in the bag

24/7 We set out, under the same roof With our everyday chaotic synergy 24/7 Eating out of the same pot Check out our flashy energy

Don’t give a shit about Pitiful jealousy Don’t give a shit about Living shamefully

Just shout out whenever And you can tell by the sound of footsteps

24/7 We set out, under the same roof With our everyday chaotic synergy 24/7 Eating out of the same pot Check out our flashy energy

We ain’t friends so stay out of our way ‘S no good? This is the path between Good and Evil

However! We’ve got rules here too If someone’s in trouble We’re all going down together

“1, 2, 3” Chasin’, chasin’ after that paper like collectible photo cards “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7” Driven High, you’ll get your fair share “1, 2, 3” JPY, my peppy pro idol A handbook? Nah, how ‘bout a tour guide? “Charisma Style Rap Battle Break!”

I wonder, are there spawns of demons and gods? And when you sift through them, how many people will be left? Do well on your mission and “you will be rewarded” This place is bittersweet

A pure white monologue No need for a secretary, just this diary You’re a caller of injustice So let’s get to the bottom of this, are you good or evil

Another successful case of tendonitis If you can’t get it, then we aren’t on the same page Those who are scrupulous Are squares My load tolerance is more than double-digits

Rage Against everything in this world Always angry, forgetting how to show mercy “Right?” Garbage that don’t burn That’s bullshit I’ll light it up anyways

Scum who is bewildered by those who are gentle A dark craft that drains the joys and sorrows of peace Shit that makes something out of nothing call that Holy shit A digital tattoo engraver

A neverending diffusion in every direction My beauty multiplies: tera, peta, and exa Mirror, oh mirror Even if you can’t understand the words The answer is revealed right in front of you

Extremely☆Horny A midsummer monster Quivering☆swaying A gift from God Locked in a grapple Inside of you Is a treasure Nearly bare!

If you back out now, it’ll vanish Your offerings of one hundred million Are not nearly enough But they can offset it “Rainy days” So from the back With no motion “Strike” While the iron’s still hot

24/7 We set out, under the same roof With our everyday chaotic synergy 24/7 Eating out of the same pot Check out our flashy energy

Don’t give a shit about Pitiful jealousy Don’t give a shit about Living shamefully

Just shout out whenever And you can tell by the sound of footsteps

24/7 We set out, under the same roof With our everyday chaotic synergy 24/7 Eating out of the same pot Check out our flashy energy

We ain’t friends so stay out of our way ‘S no good? This is the path between Good and Evil

However! We’ve got rules here too If someone’s in trouble We’re all going down together

“1, 2, 3” Chasin’, chasin’ after that paper like collectible photo cards “1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7” Driven High, you’ll get your fair share “1, 2, 3” JPY, my peppy pro idol A handbook? Nah, how ‘bout a tour guide? “Charisma Style Rap Battle Break!”

Charisma Battle Anthem (google.com)

[tetralea]

I've read the second chapter of Together Down The Rabbit Hole! So beautiful~🥺🥰

Anyway, bear with me.

Welcome to another "Charles Appreciation Everyday!"

Also called, "The Times Max Verstappen Gives His Team An Aneurysm"

Max is spotted in a viral video 🤔🤨

The place looks like a very cozy bar, but it doesn't really give off the vibes of place that a millionaire would come to. More like a secret place where local people meet to share local gossip, a very tight knit relationship, everybody knows everyone.

The place is full packed, people dressed in red, a dozen if not more Ferrari flags scattered everywhere. It wasn't the biggest place to be housing that many people, but nonetheless the place is full of joy, celebrating recent win of Ferrari's Charles Leclerc who finished in P1.

And there in a big table where a card game is currently being played, sat Max Verstappen, clad in a printed white meme shirt where Charles is wearing a banana suit and a quote "Oh my god, I've never look so good" and his usual jeans. His face is partially shadowed by a -goddamnit Max is that a Ferrari cap- but you can clearly see the Monegasque flag painted on both his left and right cheek, the 16 -obviously written by a fucking black marker- sitting just above his right collarbone sticking out against his pale skin.

Aaah! Thank you! I’m happy you loved it! I really love this story! 🥰

Hahah, oh no! Max think about your team’s mental stability please 😂😂 such a supportive boyfriend tho!

However! The imagery of the number 16 above his collarbone gave me an idea 👀 Charles making Max sit on his hotel room’s bathroom counter, opening his thighs to get closer, doing his best to paint that number on Max’s skin. His lil tongue out, very focused :D

“You already has your marks on me.” Says Max with numerous bite marks on his chest and thighs. “You could just make another there too.”

“That would be very obvious but also people wouldn’t knew for sure it was me. Now, this number is mine, so they’ll know.”

“That I’m yours?”

Gsjagshshjahs and with that Charles would abandon his artistic activities to make some more marks on Max before bending him over that sink. 😶

This was very nice! 😁 Max is definitely Charles’ number one fan! :D

[mourntheantagonist]

I had a cute teacher au idea

so you know those ceiling tiles in schools? the rectangular ones? you know the ones. well anyway, at my school and I know many other schools, students would often paint a ceiling tile either for extra credit or as a gift for their teacher.

so I’m thinking, art teacher steve and new in town english teacher billy.

because steve is both the art teacher and well liked among all his student, his ceiling is completely full of paintings, not a single bare tile. but when billy had arrived to his new classroom, all the tiles were completely white and bare. the teacher before him had taken them all with her when she left so they were replaced. billy didn’t even know it was a thing until he’d entered some of the other teachers classrooms and saw almost every teacher had them and he’d be lying if he didn’t feel a little left out. but hey, maybe he could just offer extra credit to his students if they made one.

except they reach the last day of the semester, and none of his students come in with a painted tile.

and to make matters worse he has an after school meeting that day and their holding it in mr. harrington’s classroom. billy had seen him around school and was undeniably attracted to him. he was cute always walking around in a paint splattered apron and he’d only ever heard good things from other students and the staff.

and all of that was confirmed when he saw his ceiling. most teachers had maybe five or six painted tiles but his was covered in beautiful artwork. he spent the whole meeting staring up at each tile because he was completely mesmerized. steve noticed but chose not to say anything. instead finding his way to billy’s classroom after the meeting had ended and peeking through the window of the door to see the blank ceiling.

he waited for spring break, which was just around the corner, to acquire a spare ceiling tile and take it home with him. propped it up on his easel and pulled out the acrylics and the closest picture he could find resembling the blue camaro that roared into the parking lot everyday.

when he finished the painting, just in the nick of time, he arrived to the school much earlier than he usually did when it was still dark. he bribed a custodian to let him into billy’s classroom where he quickly popped out a center tile and replaced it with the painting of his camaro. sure to lock the door behind him, leaving no trace of him other than the painted tile in his classroom.

when billy got in that day he was stunned to say the least. the painting looked almost like a picture. he probably would have a sore neck the next day from looking up at it for so long. his students kept asking about it. asking who did it and he just had to say he didn’t know. he wasn’t sure who had done it, but he had an idea.

steve had been coming around his room a lot more frequently than he had before. dropping in during his lunch to say hi or borrow markers that he damn well knows steve already had. he was the fucking art teacher for god sake. and just before they were let out for break they had had an innocent conversation about billy’s car. that couldn’t be a coincidence. could it?

somehow his students must have been reading his mind because as they were all discussing who it could be, the girl sitting at the front of the class with her sketch pad on her desk says “looks a lot like mr. harrington’s work”. and suddenly the class breaks out into unorganized chatter. only picking out a couple of phrases from the chaos that make his heart flutter. “that’s adorable!” and “mr. harrington likes mr. hargrove!” and it takes billy everything inside of him not to ask “you think so?” instead of shutting them all up and telling them to open their books.

instead of confronting steve about it, he waited for steve to inevitably show up during his lunch break to ask for some other art supplies that he definitely already has. which he did. colored pencils this time.

all of his suspicions are confirmed when steve walks in and actively avoids looking at the ceiling. like it’s very obvious he’s trying not to look. so billy makes him look. “see the new ceiling tile?” he says.

“yeah it looks great. who made it?”

“I was thinking you could tell me that.”

steve’s eyes get wide and he starts laughing uncomfortably with a hand pressed to the back of his neck. stuttering his words.

“did you paint it mr. harrington?”

“I might’ve. how did you know?”

“apparently my students seem know your art style very well. also our conversation about my car last week tipped me off.”

“oh yeah that. I was hoping you’d forget.”

billy can see he’s nervous, which is odd. he’s never seemed like the person to get nervous about his artwork. maybe his students were right about the other thing too. but that’s wishful thinking.

“thank you. for the tile. It meant a lot to me.”

“you’re welcome.” he can see steve start to relax a bit more.

and billy decides, fuck it, and goes for it.

“my students also have this idea that this means you like me. were they right about that too?”

he doesn’t immediately deny it like billy expects. no. steve blushes. he fucking blushes. and that is all billy needs before making a glance to door to make sure it’s locked and the window is covered before gently holding the tip of steve’s chin in between his thumb and index finger, slowly angling him down, and capturing his lips in a quick but deep kiss. steve doesn’t pull away. just lets his eyes fall shut and kisses him back.

and that’s just the beginning of their relationship. their fist kiss underneath the ceiling tile that started it all.

eventually news travels around school about the two of them after a student found steve on facebook with a picture of the two holding hands at the beach. billy freaks out at first, having previously taught in an environment that was definitely not okay with teachers being out and proud. but the two are met with so much love by their staff and students and they all think that it’s super cool that the “first and second coolest teachers in school” are together. they’re both always arguing about who is first and who is second.

there’s still the occasional student who will say the wrong thing. he’ll sometimes overhear kids whispering about the two of them, using slurs, and billy is always quick to shut that down. and despite billy not taking shit from little high school freshman. it hurts a little bit sometimes. sometimes he doubts his students are actually okay with it or they just think it’s all a joke.

until it’s the last day of school before summer, and the girl who sat at the front of his class who was never anything but sweet, walks into his class after school with a large rectangular object in her hand.

it’s a ceiling tile.

six painted stripes in the order of the rainbow. it’s a pride flag.

she doesn’t say anything before dropping it off. just gives him a shy smile before walking out the door.

and billy could cry.

okay he does cry.

he definitely cries.

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Constellations

Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1250

Warnings: Smut. Incredibly fluffy smut. 

A/N: For @deanwanddamons​ 2K Challenge! My quote was “I want to play a game.” Thanks so much for letting me join in on this, and congrats! 

Her fingers graze his skin, trailing up his shoulder blades, skating over the knobs of his spine, and Dean smiles into the pillow.  

“What’s the game today?” he asks sleepily. There’s no rhyme or reason to the touch that he can tell. Sometimes she traces words into his skin, spelling out secret messages just for him. Sometimes she tries to guess the stories behind the scars — she always kisses them afterward, sweet and reverent.

“Making constellations,” she answers. “Stay right where you are for a sec.”

“Don’t think I could move if I tried.” 

He loves this about her. She plays games and sees beauty in his skin, and she marvels at the tiny everyday wonders: freckles, sunsets, coffee. She always points out wildflowers on the side of the road. If they’re walking through the woods she’ll stop and turn over logs and exclaim at every salamander as if she’s never seen one before. She compliments strangers and makes faces at children and always sings in the shower. 

Dean didn’t have that innocent, childish sort of wonder in his life — not until he met her. Face down enough gods and monsters, you start to get a little jaded about the everyday things. Spend too much time focusing on the darkness in the world, you start to lose sight of the light that shines through. 

She rummages through something on the desk, for a second, and then she comes back, straddling his hips again. She leans forward, draping herself over him, breasts and stomach soft against his bare skin. It’s such a random touch, and there’s nothing inherently sexual in it, but Dean has yet to find a way of making contact between their bodies that doesn’t turn him on. 

“This one here, we’re going to call it Impalus,” she says, and he can hear the smile in her voice. The ink is cool on his skin. “According to ancient myth, it was the mighty chariot of warriors. Instead of sending its broken pieces to the scrap yard, Zeus hung them from the heavens.”  

“Feminine ends in A in Latin,” Dean mumbles. “Still just Impala.” He’s no Sam, but all those years of reciting incantations and poring over spell books have taught him a couple things. 

If he was in her place, he’d make some snarky comment about that, call him a geek, but she just hums in agreement and brushes her lips over the patch of skin. 

The marker tickles as she draws another new constellation on his shoulder. Dean doesn’t mind. 

It seems appropriate: connecting the dots, taking scattered pinpricks of light and weaving them together, giving them meaning, turning them into more than they were. 

Dean has always tried to hold onto scraps of joy, snatches of family dinners and the moments when the perfect song comes on the radio, but sometimes he used to lose track of the good memories. Sometimes they got swallowed in the darkness. 

These days, it’s different. She draws his attention to the joy, and now he can’t stop seeing all these little sparks that illuminate his life. This morning alone: the smell of bacon when he woke up — the smile on her face when he wrapped his arms around her — the way her voice echoed off the tile as she stood pink-cheeked in the steam — and this, right here, right now: lying in their bed, his legs tangled in sheets, and the fact that they smell like her, because she’s woven herself into every part of his life all the way down to the cotton fibers that brush her skin at night. 

There are so many tiny everyday wonders that Dean never would’ve noticed before, and then there’s her, tying it all together, taking the scattered fleeting moments of joy in his life and turning them into a story. She makes it all mean something. She shows him pictures in the stars when he’s forgotten to look for the light. 

She’s tickling his ribs, and Dean laughs, tries to buck her off, rolls over onto his back. She straddles him, naked, eyes lit up with mischief, and Dean tickles her right back. 

It’s playful until it’s abruptly not, and isn’t that always how it goes with her? One moment she’s batting away his hands, shrieking with laughter, and the next moment he’s resting his palms on her belly and reeling with the enormity of what they’re doing. 

Then she’s kissing him, soft sweet mouth plush and eager on his as she laces their fingers together and pins his hands to the pillow, and — 

“God, that’s —” he chokes out, as she rolls her hips. 

“Fuck. Dean.” 

— and then she’s squirming, rocking until he’s pressed right between her legs, slotted in against slick heat, teasing the length of him without letting him in. Her mouth is open and red, and she’s still pinning him, so he can’t capture her lips, but he strains against her grip, leans up and gets his mouth on her nipple to tug it between his teeth. She makes a dirty desperate noise and lets go, reaching down between them to guide him into her, and as soon as his hands are free he wraps his arms around her and pulls her down, running his hands over every part of her he can reach. 

He crushes her to his chest as she squeezes around his cock and gasps into his mouth, and it feels so good he’s seeing stars. She grinds down on him, hips swiveling, clenching hot-wet-tight like her body is trying to suck him in deeper as she works herself up. 

He loves the way she looks when she doesn’t give a fuck how she looks. He loves the way her muscles shift, the way her tits and ass bounce and jiggle, the way her skin shines with sweat — it’s art. Dean wishes he could paint or sculpt or do anything that could capture the agonized, ecstatic look on her face, because it’s art. She’s art. 

She’s moaning, rough and filthy. Her cunt is silky-soft and dripping as she squeezes around him, and she curses like a goddamn sailor: “Motherfucker — so fucking close, Dean — don’t you fucking dare stop — fuck, I love you.” 

Sacred and profane all at once, like the best art is. 

Dean has a fistful of her soft hair and a ribcage full of this hammering swollen thing that used to be his heart, and he’s so in love with her he can’t think straight. 

She’s close, close enough that all she can do is move, less coordinated and more frantic by the second. Dean rolls his hips, grinding into her, and then she shudders and shouts as her orgasm hits. The living heat of her body ripples and spasms around him and sends him over the edge, and the world dissolves into white light, bright enough to blind him. 

Dean’s seen miracles in his time. He’s seen things that shook the earth and rattled the heavens, and somehow the biggest miracle is the fact that he made it through to this moment: cradling her close, stroking her skin, imagining the microscopic spark of life inside her as the last faraway star completing a massive constellation… Dean can’t see the pattern yet, can’t figure out what shape it’ll all take, but he knows she’ll be there to help him make sense of the story. She always knows how to connect the dots. 

.

.

.

If you enjoyed this, please reblog or leave a message! 

[unholyobsessions]

Sunset Coffee

Pairing: Julie x Luke

Description: Julie develops a crush on the cute barista, little does she know he feels the same way

Warnings: none i think

Word Count: 3.5k

Prompt for jatp week Day 2: Write an AU. Modern AU / Coffee Shop AU @jatp-week​

The bell above the door dings as Julie pushes it open. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills her nostrils and she scrunches her face. She dislikes coffee, always has, too bitter for her taste, but she loves hot chocolate. Her mom used to make it for her at least twice a week and for a year after her mom’s passing, she made it her goal to find a coffee shop that made it as good as her mom did.

Sunset Coffee is a small shop in the corner of a small suburban neighborhood. It’s hidden behind the façade of a one story home, the only evidence of its existence being the small sign by the front lawn and on the door and the amazing yelp reviews left by their devoted customers.

Julie discovered it by accident. She was riding her bike around aimlessly through the city when she had the sudden urge to use the bathroom. Deciding to knock on the friendliest looking house, she was surprised to see the sign by the door. She went in carefully, not wanting to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere created by the music playing softly in the background, and a number of college-looking students on their laptops or with textbooks opened around them. She went up to the island at the corner of the room, being used as a makeshift counter, and asked the barista on the other side if she could use their bathroom. The girl, looking no older than nineteen, smiled and pointed her in the correct direction.

Julie smiled back and rushed to the empty hallway, opening the door and walking in to do her business. She decides to stick around, going back to the counter and asking the question she has asked at dozens of other coffee shops.

“Do you sell hot chocolate?” The smile she receives in return answers her question. She stands by the counter as she waits for her drink, allowing her eyes to drift over the room. The walls are covered with different types of hand writing. Quotes from books, movies, or tv shows. Jokes, phone numbers, emails, and instagram handles. Theres a basket by the door, she notes, filled to the brim with different color markers, encouraging people to express themselves.

She receives her drink and she takes it, handing her the exact amount of change. She decides to explore the rest of the rooms, intrigued with the nice shop. The next room has couches instead of chairs and the walls are painted with chalk paint. There’s drawings, to-do lists, and so much more written on the walls. She smiles and takes the first sip of her drink. As soon as the liquid hit her tongue, she knows that she will never get a hot chocolate from anywhere else. It’s not quite the same as her mom’s but the difference is what makes it so good.

There’s a hint of cinnamon hidden behind the rich taste of chocolate and Julie finds herself closing her eyes, savoring the moment. She continues exploring, keeping a grasp of the mug. There is a total of four rooms. The entry one, the chalk one, one with bright red booths, mimicking an 80s looking diner, complete with a jukebox in the corner, and the last one that has normal black tables with gold accented walls. There are autographed picture frames of famous people who Julie assumes have visited the coffee shop hanging on the walls.

After finishing the drink, Julie places the mug in the sink by the corner meant for all used mugs and glasses. She bids goodbye to the barista and leaves, making note of the address and promising herself to be back soon. She went back two days later and has been there almost everyday. She goes after school, to do either her homework or work on some songs.

She looks up from her phone, ready to greet Flynn, who she became fast friends with and no longer has to even ask what she’s having, already having the drink prepped since seeing her pull up. She is however met by a male voice, welcoming her into the shop. Julie’s head snaps up to meet his eyes and she freezes. She doesn’t think she’s ever seen anyone as attractive as the man standing before her. She clears her throat and continues walking forward, already pulling out her wallet from her backpack. She hands him the exact amount needed as she always does and he merely raises an eyebrow.

“Umm what are you having?”

Julie gapes at him, feeling stupid for her actions. “Oh! Right. A hot chocolate please. Sorry, Flynn already knows what I order so it’s a force of habit.” The man chuckles and presses a few buttons on the cash register, taking the money from her and handing her the receipt a few seconds later.

“No worries, I normally work mornings but Flynn called in sick so I offered to come in today.” He walks back to make her drink and Julie stands awkwardly by, gripping the straps of her backpack. He turns back and hands her the cup with a smile. “So with Flynn knowing your drink I’m guessing you’re a regular?” He asks, hoping to start a conversation with the pretty girl.

“Yeah,” Julie looks down for a second. “I’m Julie.” She would have offered her hand for a handshake but considering her grip on the mug, she decides it’s a bad idea.

“I’m Luke.” He slightly bites his lip and Julie has to try her best not to swoon over him. She nods her head and takes a step back going to sit in one of the empty tables. She normally opts for the couches in the chalk room but for some reason (certainly not the attractive barista) she decides to stay in the front room today.

Luke Patterson’s parents have owned Sunset Coffee since he can remember. The quaint little house on a suburban street owned by his grandparents was left to his family after their passing. The decision to remodel came after his dad lost his job, and the extra house in his name left room for ideas. He remembers sitting with his parents at the kitchen table as they decided what to do with it and his small, seven-year-old voice, speaking his opinion.

“We can sell coffee!”

Of course Luke didn’t drink coffee, but he hears the compliments given to his father’s coffee every time they have company over. To him it’s just a bitter drink he had once but from what he’s seen and heard, it’s seen as a necessity by adults.

His parents were a bit skeptical at first but the idea grew on them and they got to work. His mother designed the rooms, taking inspiration from the internet and his father took care of the menu, trying different concoctions that would often be served with dinner, decaf for young Luke of course.

Once it opened, it took a while for people to notice the hidden gem but once they did, everyone loved it. Although not known by many, those who come once normally decide to keep coming, loving the atmosphere it holds.

He started working there when he turned sixteen. At first he took the afternoon shift since he was still in high school, but after graduating he much preferred working mornings, since that left all of his afternoon free to practice with his band.

He’s known his bandmates all of his life. Living next door to Bobby made them friends by default and when they started first grade, they were introduced to both Alex and Reggie and the four have been inseparable ever since. They formed Sunset Curve freshmen year, naming themselves after their designated hangout spot.

They’re always hanging around when Luke has a shift, which is why it is not surprising when they burst through the door of the coffee shop as he is distracted, staring at Julie. The yell of his name breaks his trance and he rolls his eyes at the sight that greets him.

Reggie is draped over Bobby’s back, eyes drooping shut, probably from staying up all night writing his beloved country songs. Alex is smiling lovingly down at his phone and Luke makes a mental note of to tease him about that later.

They make their way to Luke and he tells them to go wait for his shift to be over in the diner room and then they could discuss their next gig. He tries his best to usher them away quickly, knowing that he will find it easier to work up the nerve to talk to Julie without them in the same room. They eye him suspiciously but ultimately ignore his strange attitude, walking away and down the hallway.

As this happens, Julie is opening her laptop and slipping on her earphones, her Spotify is opened to her ‘You Can Do It’ playlist and she hopes that this will encourage her to actually write her Common App essay. She is consistently drinking from the mug, finishing her hot chocolate sooner than expected.

After his friends finally decide to leave him alone he looks back to the pretty girl, lost in the her own little word. He is shocked to find the empty mug already placed on the table, and he is sure he has never seen anyone drink a hot chocolate that fast. He makes the quick decision to make her another one because by the way she has settled into her seat, it looks like she is going to be here for a while.

A few minutes later, Julie is startled when Luke picks up the empty cup and places new warm beverage, complete with whipped cream on the top, in front of her. She slips off one earbud and turns to him.

“Oh I didn’t order another one,” which as she thinks back, is a pretty stupid thing to say because of course he knows that she didn’t order another one, considering the fact that she has not moved from her spot.

“I know, it’s on the house,” he smiles at her and Julie swears it’s like looking at the rising sun. So bright, but beautifully enchanting that it makes it impossible to look away.

“Thank you,” she says, slightly embarrassed because she doesn’t know if he’s flirting or if he is just being considerate.

Of course Luke is flirting with her, and he hopes to God it’s working. He wants to ask for her number, but as he spots her laptop and sees the screen he suddenly deflates. There is a list of prestigious colleges open next to her google doc filled with essay prompts. He however, barely graduated and is not even in community college as he waits for his band to make it big. He has never been insecure about his decisions, and is actually extremely proud of what the band has accomplished, but as he stands before this beautiful and obviously intelligent girl, he suddenly feels as if his accomplishments are not good enough.

So instead of asking her out as he originally planned to, he walks away. He continues to stare at her though, and if he starts asking Flynn to switch shifts with him more often then it’s merely a coincidence.

. . .

It takes a month of endless pining for his friends to finally attempt to knock some sense into him.

It’s the eighteenth time that Luke has asked Flynn to change shifts with him in order to see Julie and speak to her for a few minutes. Flynn definitely knows what’s going on, and knows full well that Luke’s crush is reciprocated because of her many late night phone calls with Julie. She, of course, doesn’t say anything, simply agreeing to take the morning shift, and sending a quick text to Julie telling her that her knight in shining armor will be working that day. This text normally leads to Julie clearing her schedule and going to the coffee shop if she wasn’t planning to already.

Their interactions normally go as follows:

Julie smiles. Luke smiles back. Luke makes the drink, and gives her a compliment. “I like your jacket.” Julie will blush and avert her eyes, speaking a soft “Thank you” before taking the drink and paying. If she’s feeling confident (normally caused by a good score on a test that day) she’ll compliment him back. “I like your t-shirt” which normally translates to ‘I listen to that band as well.’ Luke will grin and then Julie will walk away.

It drives them both crazy because this is how they actually want their interactions to go:

Julie smiles. Luke smiles back. Luke makes the drink and gives her a compliment. “You look beautiful today.” Julie thanks him and compliments him back with a teasing smile. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” She takes the drink and pays but before she can walk away Luke stops her. “Do you maybe want to go out sometime?” Julie internally screams but keeps her cool on the outside, not wanting to seem desperate. “Yes, definitely.” They look away bashfully and Julie takes the seat closest to the counter, keeping conversation with Luke for the rest of his shift.

It never happens and it annoys all the regulars who have picked up on their feelings for each other.

Today, Julie finds herself receiving a text from Flynn which is why she is now pedaling in the direction of Sunset Coffee. There is a nice, light wind that rustles her hair as she bikes across the city. She stops in front of her favorite place, kicking down the stand and placing the bike behind the fence. She smiles at Luke, who, as per usual, sends her a grin and a wave from behind the counter.

Alex, Reggie, and Bobby, sit on the table closest to Luke, sending him teasing smiles that cause him to blush. He turns to make Julie’s regular hot chocolate as she takes out the exact change from her wallet. They all eye the exchange, wondering if today will finally be the day one of them makes a move. They are disappointed to see the two exchange nothing more than shy smiles and thank you before Julie walks away and into another room.

Luke turns back to his friends, ready to continue their conversation about the gig on Saturday to find them all glaring at him. He quickly raises his hands up in defense, rushing out a “What?”

“You’re an idiot,” Alex says. Which is followed by “Agreed” and “I second that” by both Reggie and Bobby respectively.

“You’ve been in love with her since the second you laid eyes on her. Even Reggie noticed and he is as oblivious as it gets,” Alex continues. Reggie points his finger in agreement, seemingly ignoring the dig at him.

Luke looks down at his feet, already embarrassed out how glaringly obvious he is. “It’s just,” he pauses and his friends wait patiently for him to gather his thoughts. “She’s too good for me. I mean she’s applying to universities right now and not just any random colleges, she’s going for the good ones, Ivys, UCs, that’s more than I ever did. I almost failed out of high school. I’m a knock-off Luke Hemmings doing nothing with his life.”

Insecure is not a trait anyone would normally use to describe Luke. Cocky, passionate, attractive? Sure, but never insecure. They’re all even more surprised at his reasons for not asking a girl out. He normally uses the band as a way to attract people to him, he’s never hidden it in shame.

“Luke you are literally one of the most talented people I have ever met,” Bobby starts. “Just because you crave success in something other than academics it doesn’t make you a failure. If she doesn’t realize how insanely amazing you are then she’s not the one and that’s that.” Luke looks up at him and he’s extremely glad that today is a slow day and the shop is basically empty because he’s almost sure he’s about to cry.

“Go ask her out man,” Reggie says.

“And if she says no then you can just go back to working mornings,” Alex offers. Luke throws a dirty dishrag at him and they all laugh. Luke then takes a deep breath and starts making another hot chocolate to take to Julie, almost sure that she is probably already done with hers.

He holds the drink carefully in his hands and makes his way down the hallway, finding her in the chalk wall room. She’s holding a pencil tight in her head and her eyes are closed. She’s tapping her foot at an even beat before suddenly stopping and writing something down. Her open laptop with a half done essay sits abandoned next to her.

Luke taps her shoulder, startling her out of her daze. She smiles up at him and it only widens once she sees the mug he’s carrying.

“I figured you might want another one,” he shrugs his shoulders as she takes it gratefully.

“You know, you don’t have to keep giving me free drinks,” she says before taking a long sip of the warm beverage.

Luke scratches the back of his neck gives himself a mental pep talk, taking a deep breath before speaking. “Well, if I’m being honest, I keep doing it trying to work up the courage to ask you out.” He fiddles with the apron tied around his waist and looks at her, trying to decipher what she’s thinking.

Julie doesn’t know what she’s thinking. The guy she has been simping over for a month just said he wants to ask her out, she focuses her energy on swallowing the sip she already had in her mouth without choking before looking up at him. She gets a sudden wave of confidence (she aced her calculus test) and she opens her mouth to speak. “And have you? Built up the courage I mean.”

She sends him a dazzling smile and Luke is sure that he is about to faint but he manages to keep his composure. “I sure hope so,” he mumbles under his breath before saying, “Julie will you like to go on a date with me?”

“I would love to.” They smile at each other before they both look away, suddenly bashful. “How about Saturday?” Julie suggests.

“Actually my band and I have a gig on Saturday,” Luke says slightly embarrassed but then he remembers what Bobby said and stands up straighter. “Actually, will you like to go? To the gig. It’s nothing big really, it’s in this club but it’s supposed to be really packed on Saturdays so we’re hoping it will be good exposure.”

Julie’s eyes widen in surprise, cursing Flynn for not telling her that Luke is in a band because it suddenly made him a hundred times more attractive. “Yes! Oh my gosh I would love to go. I love music, I’m actually applying to be a music major.” Now it’s Luke’s turn to be surprised.

“You play?” He sits down in front of her, his job suddenly forgotten, but he’s confident that one of the guys will take over if a customer comes in. They’ve seen him make orders enough times to know how to do it.

Julie nods. “The piano, my mom taught me when I was young and I fell in love with it. I don’t know what I want to do with it though so I’m hoping to double major in music and something else.”

Luke quickly realizes that his insecurities were completely misplaced. “That’s really cool. I play guitar and I’m the lead singer. Not that I’m bragging!” He is quick to defend himself, not wanting to seem overly confident and Julie giggles.

“When did you start playing?”

“My parents bought me an acoustic guitar when I was six, hoping that it would make me stop running around the house so much. They never expected their son to refuse to go to college to pursue his rock band though.” Luke shrugs at the end, his parents are supportive of him, they weren’t for a while but they came around and go to a lot of his gigs.

“I think it’s really admirable,” Julie says. Luke raises his eyebrows, a silent request for her to elaborate. “To be so passionate about something, to know what you want to do with that passion, and pursuing it no matter what.”

Luke knows he is blushing and is about to say something when Alex, Reggie, and Bobby, pop their heads into the room.

“Did you do it?”  “Did she say yes?” “Did you choke?” Are all questions his best friends ask. Luke sighs and shakes his head and Julie does her best to bite back a laugh.

“I did do it. She’s coming to the show on Saturday.” His friends cheer and Julie is unable to contain her laughter.

The guys all rush into the room and introduce themselves to Julie keeping her company as Luke goes back to work.

. . .

Julie goes to their show on Saturday, and every single one of their shows after that. And her decision to accept UCLA’s offer in April was definitely not influenced by her relationship with the cute barista.

[threeletterslife]

Nothing a Lil Green Can’t Fix

→ summary: Imagine having a best friend so crazy you have to have 911 on speed dial. Turns out that you are that friend. And it's up to Park Jimin to keep you from facing disaster.

→ pairing/rating: jimin x reader | PG-15

→ genre: i love bittersweet stories 🥺 so this is basically fluff all the way but angst lurking in the background | coming of age!au

→ warnings: profanity, mentions of death, divorce, heartbreak (like pretty fucking sad shit), implied sex

→ wordcount: 19.2k

→ a/n: i had so much fun writing this! a HUGE thank you to all of my friends & beta readers who helped me not make a big embarrassment out of myself LOL. a round of applause and special thanks to @aaugustlee​​, @fangirlfeelz​, @bangtansgalaxie​, @byuncaa​, @yunjikim021​ for putting up with my unedited writing! (: ALSO a huge HUGE thank you to @justastar​ for this BEAUTIFUL mood board 🤩

♫: Who by Lauv (feat. BTS) | Say Something by Pentatonix | Inner Child by BTS

cr.

When Jimin was younger, he knew superheroes existed. After all, his own mother was one of them. She cooked, washed the clothes, taught Jimin the alphabet, ran the grocery errands, worked from home, read Jimin a bedtime story and tucked him into bed—which was her daily schedule. She was strong, loving and caring. The things every mother should be. She handled problems better than she handled her emotions, that woman.

Which was probably why she cheated on Jimin's father. Jimin was only five when he heard the shouts and screams coming from downstairs. He remembers how frightened he had been, gripping his pillow and trying to drown the sound of yelling with his blankets. Only shortly after that night, his mother had packed her bags and left. Jimin never saw her again.

But life wasn't too bad after that. You had shown up, after all.

Even though Jimin's once perfect family was ruined, he didn't mind too much. When he's with you, he forgets about all of his other problems.

You'd first waddled up to him in his kindergarten class with a green marker in hand. "Can you please color me green?" you'd politely asked.

If Jimin's mother taught him one thing before she walked out of his life, she'd taught him manners. So when you, a complete stranger, had been so polite about a request that didn't look like it'd do much harm, Jimin complied.

He helped you color yourself green. Halfway through the process, he'd said: "Why are we coloring you green?"

You'd laughed out loud, grinning as you announced emphatically, "BECAUSE GREEN IS THE BESTEST COLOR EVER!"

You hate it when Jimin teases you of your first encounter with him. Mainly because you had yelled out 'bestest' at the top of your lungs that day and 'bestest' is most definitely not a word. (You're kind of a grammar freak.) Not to mention, both of you had gotten into huge trouble for coloring you green that day. Jimin had cried when the teacher had scolded the two of you, but you had shrugged, patted Jimin on the back and boldly asked the teacher, "Would you like to be colored green as well?"

You were banished to the time out chair and your star got moved down two slots into the angry orange section instead of the happy green. Jimin had felt sorry for you, but you didn't seem like you cared that much. Your skin was your favorite color. How could you not be happy?

Later that same day, you'd declared Jimin your best friend. And then you had taught him your secret language so no imbecile could eavesdrop on your private conversations. Jimin thought you were the coolest human being alive.

Jimin still thinks you're the coolest human being alive.

He's thirteen and waiting for you outside of your house so both of you can walk to school together. Walking to school side by side has been a tradition ever since you were little, too. It was also a tradition that you were always a few minutes late.

You suddenly bust out of the door with half a bagel in your mouth and your hair a frenzied mess. "Bye Granny!" you yell as the door slams shut. "Let's go!" you exclaim to Jimin in your secret language as he nods in agreement. The two of you begin to walk to school.

"What are you today?" he asks as he looks over at your outfit of the day. You're wearing black cargo pants, a black mesh top with a black tank top underneath, big, black boots and metal chains around your neck. You like to keep your fashion choices interesting by having a different style every day. You've already tried prim and proper, goth, princess and tomboy. But this... Well, this was something definitely new.

"I'm a bad girl." You grin, chomping down on the rest of your breakfast and brushing your hands together to get rid of the crumbs.

Jimin frowns. "You're gonna get dress coded," he says but upon your disappointed look, he sighs. "You're gonna get dress coded," he says in the secret language.

"Am not."

"Are too."

You roll your eyes, flipping your messy hair over your shoulder. "They can dress code me. Fine. I'll go to school in my underwear the next day, then."

Jimin laughs, shaking his head. "They'll send you to juvie."

You snort, throwing your head back in a fit of laughter. "Oh, Jimin, I—" You suddenly gasp, hand flying into your pocket to fish out your favorite green permanent marker. Its name is Gilbert.

"Grammar error?" Jimin asks.

"Yeah," you sigh, shaking your head in disdain. "Over there."

There's a sign in front of a local coffee shop that painstakingly reads: free cakes everyday after four!

"They forgot the space between 'everyday,' " you huff, so disappointed that you forget to speak in the secret language. "Wait right here."

Jimin stops walking, watching you quickly stroll over to the sign and circling the word, 'everyday' with Gilbert and marking in all caps right next to it: NEEDS SPACE.

You make your way over to Jimin again, sighing. "When will people learn?"

"Not everyone is good at grammar, Y/N," Jimin reminds you. "I think you're being a bit of a grammar Nazi."

You scoff. "So what if I am a grammar Nazi? Do you think it's acceptable to parade around town using the wrong 'everyday?' " You throw your hands in the air for dramatic emphasis.

"I mean, everybody makes mistakes," Jimin tries.

You huff, crossing your arms. "Yeah, like your outfit," you grumble. "You forgot to hook a strap of your overalls over your shoulder."

"Hey!" Jimin says. "It's fashion!"

"It's ridiculous," you counter. "It's like you're trying to show off your man chest."

"Well, you're trying to show off your girl chest."

You gasp, gazing down at your black mesh top before realizing Jimin's actually right—this stupid top does expose a lot of you to the public's scrutiny. "Don't look there, idiot!" you say. "Perve."

"What am I supposed to do? Not look at it?"

"Yes!" you say very indignantly. "A true gentleman would not look!"

"But it's right in front of my face!"

"You know what, Jimin? You can walk to school alone!" You start dashing away from Jimin, your heavy boots thumping on the concrete.

"Wait! Y/N!"

Though you might've won the fight at that moment, Jimin becomes the real winner when you come out of your house the next day wearing a turtleneck that covers your whole upper half and modest boot cut jeans with white sneakers.

"What are you today?" Jimin teases in the secret language.

"Shut up," you mutter. "Let's go."

Jimin happily obliges, skipping his way to school as you grumble, following right behind him.

Sometimes Jimin wonders what he would do without you. You were the angelic figure that had swept him off his feet when he needed a good distraction from reality. You had stepped in when his mother had stepped out. And he loves you no matter how weird you are.

"Jimin?" you ask, your head propped against his chest as his arm wraps around you. Both of you are staring up at the blue sky with sunglasses on.

"Hmm?"

"I think I can speak to the weather," you confess in the secret language, grinning wildly as you watch the clouds shift in the blue sky. "It was probably my fourteenth birthday gift from the universe, you know?"

Jimin loves how you never grew up. You were the same Y/N he knew in kindergarten with a big imagination and overflowing creativity—only smarter, taller and more beautiful.

"You can speak to the weather?" Jimin asks.

You nod. "I'm making it sunny right now."

"Really?"

You snuggle into his chest, clinging to his warmth as you laugh. "I control it with my emotions. I'm so happy right now that the sun can't help but shine upon us."

Jimin's heartbeat quickens as you clutch onto his t-shirt, but he tries to play it off. "And why are you so happy right now?"

"It's summertime!" you exclaim, suddenly jumping up and out of Jimin's arms. "We'll be in high school this year!! And you know how much I love hanging out with my best friend."

Jimin smiles, though he wonders if you'll ever love him the same way he loves you.

"You know," you sigh as you trudge down the steps of your apartment building in a large green raincoat and white boots with a glazed donut in your hand. "I'm feeling pretty horrible today. I think it's going to rain."

Jimin nods as he looks up at the sky. Sure enough, the rain clouds are settling in, painting the sky a dark gray. "That's not a good way to start off the first day of high school."

"It really isn't," you sigh.

"Is it your granny?" Jimin whispers in the secret language as both of you begin to walk to your new school.

You flinch. "She's just... she's not feeling too well, you know?"

"I'm sorry," Jimin says. "Do you know what it is?"

"She won't fucking tell me," you groan, handing your donut to Jimin. "I don't want it. Do you?"

It's Jimin's favorite food: a glazed donut, so he takes it and munches on it. Something tells him that you saved it just for him. "Thanks," he says. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No..." You shake your head, your lips that had been set in a stern lip suddenly curving up to reveal a bright smile. "Sorry, I'm totally killing the mood. We should be excited! High school, right?? Oh my god, do you think we're all going to dance in the gym like we're all in it together??"

"That stuff only happens in the movies," Jimin chuckles as he finishes the last of your donut. But upon seeing your disappointed face, he offers: "No, we'll definitely dance around in the gym singing songs from High School Musical."

"That's more like it!" you exclaim.

Crazily enough, by the time the two of you reach the new school, the rain clouds have disappeared from the sky. Jimin looks over at you, who had taken off your raincoat to reveal a rather summery green t-shirt dress. Maybe you really can control the weather with your emotions.

Jimin admires how you don't give two flying fucks about social standards. You're brave enough to be yourself, to stray from society and not conform to stupid high school stereotypes. You're everything that he isn't. And in sophomore year in high school, you're wilder than ever before. Frankly, he thinks you're what everyone wants to be but is too afraid to be.

"Did you study for the AP chem test?" Jimin asks as he fidgets with pages and pages of notes in his hands.

You snort, tugging your favorite green jacket around yourself. "No. Why would I? It's just a test."

"But it's an important test," Jimin insists, eyes glazing over as he half listens to you and half crams last-minutely. "Last test to raise your grade before the final."

"My time's important too," you laugh. "I don't regret those six hours I spent reading yesterday. You know, I woke up so late today that I had to wear my pajamas to school."

Jimin glances down at your sweatpants and looks up at your tousled hair.

"Yeah," you say, "only had time to put on the nearest jacket. But it's kind of hot, isn't it?"

You're right. Ever since you helped nurse your granny back into top-notch health, the weather was perfect—always sunny and just slightly breezy. It matches your mood.

You shrug off your green jacket, folding it away. When Jimin notices your shirt underneath, he gasps out loud.

"Y/N!"

"What?"

"You're wearing those pajamas!" he exclaims in the secret language, frantically. "Do you wanna borrow my t-shirt or something?"

"What? No!" you cock your head. "What's so bad about my t-shirt right now?"

"Y/N, you're literally wearing a shirt with the periodic table on it. We're taking a chem test!"

"Oh, you're so funny, Jimin," you say, shaking your head. "It's just a t-shirt. No one will care."

Fast forward ten minutes later when your AP chem teacher calls you up before you sit down with your test and tells you that you need to put a jacket over your shirt.

"But Mr. Levitt!" you protest. "I don't want to be in a stuffy jacket when I'm taking a test!"

Mr. Levitt sighs, but after an intense one-minute staring contest in which you claim victory, he agrees to turn on the air conditioning. Silently, everyone thanks you (it's a hot day, after all) as you return to your seat with your jacket covering your shirt and your eyes sparkling with their usual mischief. Jimin thinks you might've elaborately planned this whole scheme out. Mr. Levitt is infamous for being a total tightwad on the AC, so maybe you thought you had to do something about it instead of studying for the test.

Naturally, you proceeded to completely bomb the chemistry exam.

"Ugh," Jimin groans the next day as you step out of your home with an apple in your mouth. "The scores are out. I got a 92%," he huffs. "That's barely gonna raise my grade."

You laugh out loud, tossing Jimin another apple that he gratefully catches. "I got a 43%. Deal with it."

"You're serious."

"I'm always serious," you giggle, twirling around in your rather nice-looking outfit. Jimin notices you took extra time to curl your hair and apply a sheer lipgloss on your lips. "Besides, you know, that test had so many grammatical errors that I couldn't possibly focus on the problems!" You scoff, shaking your head disdainfully as your eyes gloss over to remember the horror you saw the day before. "I had to whip out Gilbert and fix all the errors, you know? I didn't even get to look at half the questions on the test. But I'm pretty sure I got everything else right, though," you confidently announce. "Totally worth it. Mr. Levitt needs to learn a thing or two about dangling modifiers."

"But Y/N, you can't fail a class!" Jimin protests. He doesn't have the guts to tell you that you earned your 43% after a 13% curve—that in reality, you'd really gotten a 30%.

"I'm not failing," you giggle, "yet."

"What am I gonna do with you?"

You shrug, biting at your healthy breakfast and chewing slowly. "Anyways, do you like my outfit?" you ask in your secret language, totally changing the subject.

Jimin warily eyes your pretty skirt and button-down top. His face heats up just a little bit, but he forces himself to look away. "Why'd you dress up so much? You're going to fall down wearing those heels."

You roll your eyes so hard Jimin can see the whites of your eyes. "Google Earth always takes pictures, my friend," you sing. "If people see me walking down this street on that app, I want to look fabulous."

Jimin's learned a long time ago from experience to not believe everything you say. (One time when the two of you were six years old, you told Jimin if he waited in his garage at night without falling asleep, he'd see his father's old, battered Hyundai turn into a chivalrous robot—this was after you had watched Transformers with him at home—and Jimin had stupidly believed you. What followed was him staying up for three nights in a row, waiting for the car to morph in Optimus Prime. He was almost going to stay up for a fourth night until you had to put an end to his madness by telling him you were joking.) And there were many, many more times your large imagination had convinced Jimin something that wasn't real, was. But now, he knows when to take your words with a grain of salt.

Even so, the next day, he dresses up extra nicely. Just in case Google Earth is taking photos.

You pass sophomore year with mediocre grades, but by now, Jimin knows you don't really care much about your transcript.

Junior year is rumored to be the hardest of all in high school, a rumor that turns out to be quite true. Well, except for you.

Jimin's reading for his huge physics exam on his bed while you're propped up against the headboard, legs tangled absentmindedly with his. The two of you had been in that position for hours. Normally, you can't sit in one spot for more than forty-five minutes, but you must be concentrating on something because you'd been way too still and quiet for way too long.

"Hey, Y/N?" Jimin calls in the secret language. "You good?"

"Hmm," you hum. "Mhm."

When Jimin looks up, he sees you sewing. You must've gotten that sewing kit splayed before you from your granny. It's really endearing how much you love her and how much you're willing to do for her. She's the only family you've got left around here, and she's the one that has taken care of you since you were very young. Your granny is a lot like you, too. Jimin's heard from you that she likes watching extreme sports and hopes to become a three-time gold Olympic medalist snowboarder by the time she's dead (though she hasn't won a single snowboarding contest in her life). She loves fashion and enjoys taking you out to shop. She likes to preach that grades do not define intelligence. (It seems as though you've had that soaked in your brain for a very long time.) Her husband, Gilbert, was a grammar freak like her, but he passed away before you were born. You named your permanent green marker after him.

You don't like to talk about it, but your granny hasn't been in great health in the past few years. Jimin knows how much it's putting a strain on you, yet you insist that everything's completely fine before suggesting to embark on another wild journey.

"Are you sewing something on your favorite shorts?" Jimin asks, setting down his physics book.

You nod, tongue poking out of your lips as you concentrate. "It's a QR code."

"Oh, really?" Jimin becomes interested as he scoots closer to you so that your arms are touching.

"Yeah, so when I wear these scandalously short shorts and guys are checking out my ass, they'll see this QR code instead and dare to scan it, you know?" you smile proudly at yourself, setting down your sewing project as you lean again Jimin's shoulder. "Wanna know what comes up when you scan it?" you ask in the secret language.

"Yeah."

"Information about colorectal cancer."

"What?"

"Colorectal cancer. Colon cancer, Jimin." He notices the way your lips tremble slightly as the words spill out of your mouth. You're struggling to keep a straight face.

"Oh, Y/N... Your granny—"

"Yes," you cry out, tears starting to well up in your eyes. "Stage four, Jimin. Fucking stage four. She has about a year left."

"Y/N..."

You move in to hug Jimin, crying into his shirt as he wraps his arms around your waist, letting you cry in silence.

You don't like to cry. Jimin's only seen you cry one other time in his twelve years of friendship with you—when your granny had her first cancer scare a couple years back. To see you breaking down in front of him like this hurts him more than words can describe. You're usually so resilient; you wear a fierce smile on your face even when times are tough. But you'd have to take off your happy mask at some point.

He lets you sob into his chest, warm hands tracing circles on your back in hopes of soothing you. He never knows the right thing to say, unlike you, so he stays quiet.

It takes a few minutes but your sobs dwindle to soft sniffles, then to complete silence. Jimin holds you in his arms without complaint, savoring your warmth, hoping that just embracing you can help.

You pull away, wiping off the residue of your tears on your face with the back of your sleeve. "I'm so sorry, Jimin," you whisper, your hands tracing the wet patches of your tears on Jimin's shirt. "I think... I need to go home."

He doesn't stop you when you pack up your sewing kit and leave without another word. And he hates himself for being so cowardly.

But the next day, you come out of your house with a bright smile on your face. You're wearing the shorts with the QR code sewn on the back, proudly flaunting them to Jimin. He does everything so his eyes don't linger around your ass; in the end, he just looks away entirely.

You laugh when you see him blush, linking your arms together as you march to school. The sun's shining brightly today, but the streets are wet with the hard rain that had poured last night.

All too soon, senior year rolls by with summer just around the corner. You and Jimin make use of your lax time, no longer needing to worry about grades or academic productivity.

"You know, everyone has one deep fear," you confess, snuggling up against Jimin on the sofa in your room. "You know what mine is, right?"

Jimin nods. "Losing your granny."

"Good. Well, I think I know what yours is."

"Really?" Jimin asks, letting you rest your head on his chest as he plays with your hair.

"You're afraid of being left alone," you whisper. "You're especially afraid someone you love will leave you."

"Hmm..." Jimin hums. "Like my mother?"

"Yeah. But me too."

"You?" Jimin asks, bewildered, suddenly sitting up and moving away from you to stare into your eyes. "You're leaving?"

"Hey, relax," you giggle, shaking your head. "I'm not leaving forever. I'm just... I didn't tell you but... Granny passed away a few days ago. You know when it was raining really hard that night? Yeah, well that was because I was crying nonstop. She'd always wanted to be buried in Hawaii because that's where she met Gilbert. I'll be in Hawaii for a week—"

"Why don't you tell me anything until the last minute?" Jimin sighs. "You could've told me your granny passed away the day it happened. Why are you telling me now?" He struggles to keep his voice from trembling too hard. I didn't even get to say goodbye to her...

You shake your head, biting your lip to keep a straight face. "Because I knew I'd break down if I told you the day it happened."

"Y/N, it's okay to cry..."

"No, Jimin. It's not. I'm supposed to comfort you. I'm supposed to be the strong one that doesn't bat an eyelash when trauma comes her way. I'm supposed to be resilient, Jimin," you sigh. "I refuse to cry."

Jimin doesn't know what to say.

"I know," you say, leaning forward to grasp Jimin's warm hands. "I'm so sorry. I told you we'd go to the senior prom together. I'm so, so sorry, Jimin." You're smiling to reassure him, but your façade isn't fooling anyone—thunder clouds boom outside of your house, then the rain begins to fall. "I'm sorry, Jimin," you say again. "I want to make it up to you somehow."

Jimin had completely forgotten about going to prom until you had brought it up. You'd made those plans during freshman year, and both of you had been excited about it for all of high school. Now, it looks like those plans will be ruined. But Jimin knows how much you love your granny. She means way more than a silly prom night to you. He'll have to figure something out for himself. "You don't have to make anything up to me, Y/N," Jimin says. "I'm not going to prom, then, I guess."

"But you've been waiting for it since we were in ninth grade," you protest, shaking your head. "You were going to wear a green suit to match my green dress, remember?" you say in your secret language, a small smile playing on your lips. "I can get someone to go with you."

"It's fine, Y/N," Jimin says, shaking his head. "My dad wants me to start thinking about my future, anyway. I don't think he'll appreciate me going out without knowing what I want to study in college."

You nod. "Oh, okay, then."

"You're not going to college, are you?" Jimin whispers.

"I can't, Jimin," you shrug, a fake smile plastered on your lips. "I got a job at a restaurant as a waitress. I think I'll manage financially. You know, I think you should go into engineering or some pristine shit. You're too good at math and science."

"I'll keep that in mind," Jimin says as you cuddle into his chest again. He's known you for thirteen years now and he's never seen you this let down in his life. You're struggling to hide the gargantuan amount of pain you're feeling, but the weather is reflecting your emotions too well. Jimin never knows how to comfort you—partly because you're rarely upset, but also because he's scared you might leave him if he says the wrong words.

You're right.

Jimin's terrified of losing someone he loves. He's scared that you'll leave him one day.

Your senior year in high school is the last time Jimin sees you sad. It takes you a few months to adjust to a life without your granny, but after that, you jumped right back up and out of your misery. The years rolled on through delightful days and unforgettable nights. Both of you are 24 now and it seems like nothing has changed.

Jimin waits for you to come out of your house in your work uniform, and you do just a few minutes after he arrives.

"Hey!" you beam at him. "Hope you didn't sleep too late studying or whatnot."

Jimin laughs as the two of you begin to walk to your workplace. "I actually pulled an all-nighter studying for the mid-term," he shrugs, pointing at the dark circles underneath his eyes.

"Aww, Jimin," you coo. "I'm kind of glad I never went to college. Much less try for a master's degree. After your classes, wanna meet me during my night shift?"

"Sure," Jimin agrees. His eyes glance at your petite figure, admiring the bright look on your face and your sparkling eyes before realizing what you were wearing. "Oh, Y/N!"

"What?" you giggle. "Do you like it?"

"The manager isn't going to be happy about that, Y/N," Jimin sighs.

Your work uniform was black and red—a modest black dress with a cinched-in waist and short sleeves and a red waist apron. It was a uniform that Jimin thought made you look gorgeous, but he knew how much you hated it. You'd complained several times that the outfit was too dark and gloomy and that it made you look like a sexy vampire. And you do not like sexy vampires. (Jimin thinks that's because you always rooted for Jacob the "sexy werewolf" in the hit book series, The Twilight Saga.) But what could you do about it? The black and red uniform matched the colors of the logo of the restaurant you worked in: The Black Dress.

Yet it seems like you do not give a fuck.

You're now wearing a bright green skirt with a green fanny pack around your hips, and the white pirate blouse you bought on a shopping spree sale last Halloween. Your red waist apron is tied around your neck so it flows behind you like a cape. And to top it all off, there are green clips in your hair.

"I think I look outstanding!" you chirp, twirling around. "I'm still wearing my apron so I think I'll be fine."

"Y/N... You work at The Black Dress... You can't not be wearing a black dress!" Jimin cries. "You're going to get fired!"

"Nah, I'm not," you snort. "I think the new manager has a soft spot for me. He'll really like my rather innovative work uniform!"

"What if I come over during your night shift to find out that you're no longer working there?" Jimin protests. "How are you so sure he'll be fine with you not following the dress code?"

"Oh, Jimin," you giggle, shaking your head. "Live a little! Break a few fucking rules, will you? The manager and I are good friends. I'll be fine. We're still on for tonight, right?"

"Yeah," Jimin scoffs, "if you still have your job by then."

"I will!" you protest. "Do you wanna bet?"

"What? No!"

Jimin knows when you threaten to make a bet, you're always 100% sure you're going to win. He had lost a lot of money before he’d figured that out.

"See? I'll be fine, Jimin," you say, stopping your walking when you come in front of the restaurant. "Good luck on that mid-term, all right?" You give him one of your best grins, hitting his back encouragingly as you begin to walk backward towards the entrance of the restaurant. "You're going to ace it!" you yell in the secret language.

Jimin smiles brightly. He knows that your words of encouragement will do wonders to his score like always. "Thanks!" he calls. "Bye!"

You wave your arms frantically, nearly tripping on a rock as you do so (walking backwards is not your thing). With final grins exchanged, you head into the restaurant. Jimin watches as you leave, unable to hide the fierce blush of his cheeks. It's been almost two decades and he's failed to tell you that he loves you.

Meanwhile, you sashay into the restaurant, twirling around in your modified work uniform. "Hello, everyone!" you announce in your best singing voice.

"Good morning, Y/N," your manager offers, smiling at you as he walks up to greet you.

He's a handsome man, you must admit. In his early thirties, intelligent, good with his words and rather caring.

"It's just me for now," he chuckles. "I guess the others will come later."

"Wow, I can't believe I'm the first one here, Namjoon," you laugh. "I'm literally always the last. Isn't this the first?"

Your manager laughs as well. "This is a special day then, isn't it?"

"Every day is a special day. Is it not?"

"That's very true," Namjoon agrees. "Is that why you decided to ditch your work uniform, Y/N?" he teases. "I must say the modified version looks quite nice. Someone has a penchant for the color green doesn't she?"

"You caught me!" you exclaim, raising your hands up in mock guilt. "My best friend thought I'd get fired or something. He's such a plain Jane," you giggle. "But I love him though. He's coming over later during my night shift. Is that okay?"

"Of course that's okay," Namjoon smiles. "I thought he was your boyfriend. Doesn't he walk you here every day?"

You laugh so hard you snort. "Boyfriend? Boyfriend?! God, no! We've been friends for nearly two decades, Namjoon! I think one time we even showered together. We're literally best friends."

"Good," Namjoon grins. "Because I've been wanting to ask you out for a while."

Your eyes widen. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. When are you free?" he asks.

"Hmm..." you think. "Well, I'm supposed to have a movie night with Jimin on Friday. On Saturday, Jimin and I are supposed to watch the water fountain show we bought tickets for like seven months ago... On Sunday I'm supposed to sleep over at his place so we can wake up on Monday at the same place, you know, so it'll be easier for Jimin to walk me here... I think I'm okay Sunday. As long as I get to Jimin's home by 8!"

Namjoon laughs at your long explanation, looking at you fondly. "I'll take you out on a cafe date. Then we can watch a movie and have an early dinner. How does that sound?"

"I like it!" you giggle. "I haven't been on a date in... damn, I've never been on a date."

"Really?" Namjoon asks, slightly bewildered. "No one's taken you out on a date? You?"

"Yeah!" you blush. "Why? Am I date-worthy?"

"You're very date-worthy, Y/N," Namjoon laughs. "Maybe everyone thought you were already taken. You know, you spend a lot of time with your best friend."

You snort. "Jimin and I hang out all the time but I never once thought of anything as a date. He probably thinks of me like I'm his sister!"

"Good, good," Namjoon grins. "So he won't be mad that I'll have to steal you away for a day."

You giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Jimin never gets mad. The last time he got slightly irritated with me was in senior year of high school."

"Great!" Namjoon says. "I'll see you at the cafe next door at 2?"

"Sure!" you exclaim.

"Everything's planned, then," Namjoon smiles. "Well, we have fifteen minutes left until the restaurant opens. Why don't you get dressed in your actual uniform? We have extras in the back, okay? Maybe I'll see you around today! I'm going to go check up on our chefs."

"Okay!" you nod. "Bye!" When he's out of view, you have to duck your head to hide your blushing red cheeks. When was the last time a man was interested in you? Never. You're not going to mess up on a perfect chance to date Kim Namjoon who's tall, handsome, intelligent and diligent. You don't think you can wait to meet Jimin during your night shift to tell him such good news. You might just accidentally text him right now! But you can't. Jimin's taking a test and you would be evil to distract him like that.

You've awaited your fairytale romance for 24 fucking years. Maybe you've finally found the Gilbert to your granny. Something about Kim Namjoon feels right.

You squeal giddily as you flee to the back counter of the restaurant, finding the extra black dress there as Namjoon said. You skip to the bathroom to get changed, folding up your modified uniform and stashing it somewhere in the back counter. Your radiance is obvious during your day shift—you get three times the amount of tips than usual. Namjoon even notices and compliments you on your diligence!

Usually, when your day shift is over by 4 p.m., you like to sit in the corner of the restaurant with a fresh magazine in hand and use Gilbert to correct all the embarrassing grammatical errors until it's time for your night shift. But today, Namjoon sits down across from you (because his work for today was over) and he asks what you're doing.

You spend the next two hours until your night shift explaining to Namjoon the intricacies of correct grammar. He seems to enjoy every minute of it. When you have to go back to work, Namjoon promises to see you tomorrow, which was Friday and wishes you the best on your night shift. You let out a dreamy sigh when he leaves.

How did you not notice such a great man like Namjoon was right in front of your face? Granted, it's only been a few weeks since he started working here, but still.

You're usually just a little bit tired (crazy, right? for such an energetic person like you) by the time you start your second shift, but you feel more energized than ever. By the time Jimin comes into the restaurant, you're serving the last customers and cleaning up the tables and pushing in the chairs.

"Hey!" you cry, rushing in to hug your friend. "How was the mid-term?"

"It was great!" Jimin beams. "You've been in a really good mood today, haven't you? The sun was out the whole day. Huh, and you're not fired, I see. Someone made you put on the uniform?"

"Yeah, Namjoon," you say dreamily. When Jimin makes a blank face, you clarify, "my manager."

"Oh? He wasn't mad?"

"No! He wasn't!" you giggle. "He asked me out on a date, Jimin! And then he told me to change into my uniform, but that's beside the point! We're supposed to meet on Sunday at the cafe next door at 2! This is my first date! You have to help me with what to wear!"

Jimin plasters on a giant grin for you, though his insides crumble. "That's great, Y/N! Maybe I can come over later and help you choose what to wear. Are you thinking of making it official? It sounds like you really like him..."

"I don't know yet," you hum. "But I know he's a great guy! You know how well I read people, right? He really likes Gilbert too! God, I think he's already gonna be my prince!"

Jimin nods. "Wow," he mumbles. "Do you know him very well?"

"Well, I know that his name is Kim Namjoon. And he's the day-time manager for The Black Dress," you say, furrowing your eyebrows as you try to think. "He has blonde hair... uh, he's tall and he likes to wear all black!"

"You don't know him very well, do you?" Jimin accuses, crossing his arms over his chest. "Y/N, how do you like him so much if you barely know him? Is it because he expressed interest in you? You can't just go liking people back just because they like you... You need to make judgments for yourself."

You pout, shaking your head. "It's not like that," you say. "And I made my judgment already! I like Kim Namjoon, Jimin. Besides, I will get to know him. Now, I'm gonna go close up the restaurant so sit tight, all right?"

Jimin nods, grumbling under his breath about how quickly you were moving on to like someone you barely gave a second look at. He does admit that he's a bit jealous... Who was this Kim Namjoon who just decided to waltz into your life and steal you away from him? Who was he to ask you out just based on physical attraction? Jimin can't believe you were falling for a guy you basically just met. But he does admit that you've always wanted some sort of fairytale romance. Is it too late for him to confess now?

"Why are you thinking so hard?" you giggle, making Jimin jump away from you from the suddenness. "I closed up the restaurant. Shall we go home?" You hold out your hand for Jimin to take, which he does after just a bit of hesitance.

"I was not thinking very hard," Jimin says.

"Oh, really?" you snort, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. "You were thinking so hard, a vein popped out in your forehead! A penny for your thoughts?"

When you hold out an actual penny for him to take, Jimin laughs, shaking his head. You huff, putting the penny back in your pocket. "It was nothing, Y/N."

"Wow, I didn't know nothing made you think so hard you looked angry," you tease. "You can tell me anything, you know."

"Yeah, of course," Jimin sighs, squeezing your hand and struggling to hide his actual feelings.

Damn. If he could control the weather with his emotions, it would be raining right now.

Jimin knew you would never be one to put your dates over your friends. That fact was confirmed for him when even though you got Namjoon's phone number, you never texted him when you were hanging out with Jimin—which was practically all the time.

Your Friday movie night was a blast, as usual. The two of you cuddled up on the couch and completely lost it over a hysterical comedy. And the Saturday hangout was even better with the majestic water fountain show. When the two of you separated that night, you ended up FaceTiming in each of your houses. Like Jimin had promised, he helped you pick out a cute but modest outfit for tomorrow—something that enhanced your best features (which Jimin thought is everything) and something that would make it very obvious that green is your color. You went to bed smiling because you were excited about your date with Namjoon tomorrow. Jimin went to bed smiling because you were the last person he saw before going to bed.

On Sunday morning, Jimin woke up, texted you to have fun on your date and began to study for his advanced thermodynamics class, which was a whole fucking pain in the ass. He skipped lunch, got a snack around early evening and waited for you to come over while he watched some kitten Youtube videos.

You were supposed to be back from your date by 8 p.m. It is promptly 8:07 and Jimin begins to get a bit nervous. Should he text? Call? 8:07 is such an ambiguous time. If he calls now, he'll sound clingy, like he's trying to interrupt your date with Namjoon. Well, Jimin wouldn't mind doing that, but he doesn't want to hurt your feelings and burst your idealistic bubble. Perhaps he should wait.

You're always late to everything, anyways. If Jimin wasn't in your life, you would've been late to every single day of school from kindergarten to high school. Hell, if he hadn't banged on your door for you to come out on graduation day, you might've never graduated high school. Maybe Gilbert fell out of your flimsy dress pocket and you're looking for it? (It's happened before so it could surely happen again.)

Alas, the door of Jimin's small apartment swings open and you practically skip through, giggling and twirling around. "Sorry I'm late!" you say, rushing over to where Jimin was slouched on the couch and cuddling up next to him.

You smell faintly masculine. Jimin struggles not to make an unflattering face—that was no doubt Namjoon's cologne. He wonders what base Namjoon took you to tonight. Did you kiss him? Did you make out with him? Have... sex?

He shudders thinking about it.

No. That couldn't have happened. They were in public places the whole time. Unless...

He glances over at you who's stripping off your jewelry, socks and jacket. You're too busy tying up your hair into a messy bun to notice Jimin staring at your lips. Had Namjoon kissed you goodbye?

Jimin shames himself for having these thoughts. He should be happy for you. Besides, you weren't even that late. It's only 8:10.

"You wouldn't believe why I was like, ten minutes late," you giggle, stretching out your legs and sitting in an unflattering position that hikes your dress up to your mid-thigh. Jimin struggles not to look down.

"Really?" he asks. "What happened?"

You snort. "Okay, so—wait do you have my makeup remover wipes here? And can I borrow some sweats? I totally forgot to bring a change of clothes. Sorry!" you say.

Jimin nods. "Yeah, the wipes are in my bedroom where you last left them and um, you can find some of my t-shirts in the first drawer of the cabinet next to my bed."

"Okay, thanks, Jimin!" you giggle, quickly bouncing up from your spot. When you see that Jimin's still glued to his seat, you laugh. "I can't tell you the story when you're that far away from me! Get up! I'll tell you the story while I change."

Jimin flushes at the thought. "Y-Yeah, okay," he stutters. You tug him into his own bedroom, snatching the makeup wipes from the nightstand and beginning to wipe off your light makeup. Jimin sits down on his bed, cross-legged, attentively waiting for you to start your story.

"Okay, anyways, Joon—"

"Joon?"

"Yeah, it's like my little nickname for Namjoon, isn't it adorable? Where was I? Right!" you mutter to yourself as you furiously scrub off the remnants of your mascara. "We were coming out of the movie theater, right? I found out Gilbert wasn't in my pocket! And I was just about to turn around to tell Joon my misfortune but he was already facing me and yelling, 'I FORGOT MY PHONE!' "

You take a moment to skillfully aim the wipe into Jimin's trash bin, squealing when it goes in completely clean. Jimin claps politely for you.

"Thank you," you bow dramatically. "Oh yeah, where was I?" You begin to make your way towards Jimin's bedroom cabinet, pulling out the first drawer and inspecting your choices of nightwear and sticking your hand in the neatly folded clothes to rummage through and pick your poison. "So, naturally, Joon and I went back into the theater and—ooh, Jimin you have a few condoms in here! Are you getting it on these days?"

"Y/N!" Jimin shrieks, scrambling over and snatching the condom you were teasingly holding out before chucking it into his closet and slamming the door shut. "T-That's private."

"Oh, really?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows. "Who's the lucky girl?"

"Come on, Y/N. I'm a virgin, you know that."

You raise your eyebrows. "It looks like you're tired of being one though," you tease.

Jimin can't look you in the eyes. His face burns with humiliation. He can't possibly explain why he had bought those condoms. Back when he was an undergraduate, he had been desperate to get over his feelings for you—so desperate, in fact, that he had purchased his first batch of contraceptives to have sex with other women and completely forget about you. But he never had the guts to try. How could he? When he was so hopefully in love with you that he couldn't imagine himself being sexually active with someone else. Er, not that he sees himself being sexually active with you. But—

I need to stop thinking about this.

"Aw, Jiminie," you coo. "It's okay to be a virgin," you say in your secret language as you sit down on the bed with one of Jimin's favorite black t-shirts in hand. Jimin believes you must've thought he was pissed off at you for teasing him about being inexperienced. "I'm a virgin too, right?" you say. "I'm waiting for my prince!"

Jimin breathes a sigh of relief. So you hadn't had sex with Namjoon tonight. For some reason, he feels much better after hearing that. "You know what, Y/N?" he smiles. "I'm waiting for my princess."

You smile so bright it lights up the room. "Good," you say. "Let's get married on the same day, then. A double wedding in a castle far, far away!" you place a dramatic hand over your forehead. "Now! Where was I for the hundredth time? Oh, yeah! Joon and I went back to the theater," you say, starting to unzip your dress.

Jimin's eyes turn wide and he quickly turns his back towards you, making you laugh.

"I'm not putting on a strip show," you giggle. "You don't have to be so embarrassed about it!"

"I-I, uh, I'll just give you some privacy. Tell me when you're done," Jimin manages to choke out.

"So gentlemanly. How do you not have a girlfriend yet?" you chuckle to yourself, sliding the sleeves of the dress of your shoulders and dragging the fabric off of your body. "Okay, okay, okay. I need to focus. Anyways, Joon and I went back into the movie theater and the first thing we did was to go back into the room where we watched the movie—great film, by the way—and we literally scrounged around everywhere for my poor Gilbert and Joon's phone! But to no avail! It was as if both of them disappeared!"

You toss your dress on the floor, unclip your bra and tug Jimin's shirt on in smooth motions.

"Jimin, you can look now," you say.

He turns around, ears slightly pink and eyes averted. Quickly, Jimin sits down on his bed, across from you. "You can continue your story," he offers.

You grin. "So, Joon was panicking at this point because he lost his phone. And I was about to burst into tears because I lost Gilbert, you know?"

Jimin nods in response.

"Yeah, so I figured I'd have to be late coming to your apartment because I can't just leave without Gilbert! When I reached into my purse to get my phone to tell you of my misfortune, guess what happened. Guess! Guess!"

Jimin pouts. "Can't you just tell me?"

You roll your eyes. "I was building the story up just so you could literally guess what happened with no problem," you huff. "Fine, then. I reached into my purse to get my phone and I pulled out Namjoon's instead! Turns out, before the movie, Joon was holding all the snacks and he dropped his phone. So, you know, I picked it up and couldn't give it back to him so I just put it in my purse!"

Jimin smiles. "And you forgot you put it in your purse?"

"Well, yeah!" you giggle. "I was so worried about Gilbert!"

"Did you find him?" Jimin asks.

You snort. "Is that even a question, Jimin? I wouldn't be this happy right now if I hadn't. You'd never guess where Gilbert was, Jimin."

"So there's no point in me trying, right?" he responds, teasingly. But when he sees your death glare, he sighs. "Fine. Was Gilbert in Namjoon's purse?"

"HA!" you exclaim. "Good one! But no, it was in my right pocket."

"Oh, Y/N," Jimin says, leaning back on his bed. "You only checked your left pocket before you declared Gilbert missing, huh?"

"Yessir!" you laugh. "Joon and I got a good laugh out of it. He told me I'm really silly! And, get this, he said I'm a natural!"

"Really?" Jimin says. "A natural at what?"

"Dating!" you squeal. "He told me I'm naturally cuddly and adorable and kissable and—god, my heart exploded in my chest!!!"

Kissable???

"But I told him I don't kiss on first dates—not that I've never been on another one... You know? Like you need to give them something to long for!" you laugh, spreading out on Jimin's bed while looking up at his ceiling. "I read that from a romance novel somewhere. And it worked! He asked me out on our second date during our first date! Am I amazing or what?"

"Oh, Y/N," Jimin sighs.

"Oh, Jimin," you mock right back. "Anyways, shall we go to bed early? My princess beauty sleep is waiting!" you sing, making your way to Jimin's bathroom. "I'm gonna wash up, okay?"

"All right," Jimin answers, getting up to turn off the lights of his room. He crawls back into his bed, waiting for you to join him. A few minutes later, you do, tucking yourself in on the left side of the bed and snuggling Jimin's blankets as you sigh out.

No matter how many times he's slept beside you, Jimin feels like his heart will beat out of his chest every time. It feels wrong, to sleep in the same bed as adults when you're in nothing but a platonic relationship with him. Yet something about it feels so right... And you've been doing it since you were kids and upholding tradition is pretty important to both of you.

Jimin double-checks to make sure he isn't pulling the blanket covers too hard. He doesn't want you left with anything to stay warm through the night.

"Goodnight, Jimin," you whisper.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he whispers back.

And he drifts off to sleep. Only in his dreams can his longing to be with you come true.

Jimin is always your priority. You have a lot of friends, but when it comes to who you're willing to spend the most time with, it's Jimin. And it's always been like that—since that one fateful day in kindergarten to now. Er, kind of.

These days, your priorities may have shifted just a tiny bit.

It's been like that ever since Namjoon took you out on that stupid fifth date, which was the date that marked the official start of your romantic relationship with him. Jimin had sulked in his bed that whole day when you'd first texted him the news. But later, he forced himself to get up and have a cup of coffee with you in the cafe next to your workplace. He feigned a smile for you and told you that Namjoon was one lucky man.

And he was.

Now that Namjoon is officially your boyfriend, Jimin had to share you with him. It's unfair. Jimin's known you for nearly two decades, but Kim Namjoon decided to waltz into your life one day and win you over in less than a month. What did Namjoon have that Jimin didn't??

But no matter how bitter your relationship with Namjoon made Jimin feel, he hid it away from you. Besides, you are practically glowing these days. Whatever Namjoon tells you makes you absolutely radiant. And Namjoon must be a good man because you come over to Jimin's apartment after every date happy and bubbly like it was your first. So he's definitely treating you right.

You don't get to spend as much time with Jimin anymore, too. Sometimes, Jimin asks if you're available for lunch or dinner but half the time you've already made reservations with your boyfriend. Yet you always make sure you see Jimin at least five days a week (two days less than what was before, but it's a small price Jimin's willing to pay for your heightened happiness).

Since your birthday is coming up, Jimin's been putting the finishing touches on your present—the one he's been preparing since the day after your last birthday. This year, you've already made him a short little flipbook (that you drew yourself) about the first time the two of you had first met for Jimin's birthday. The gift was rather nostalgic and it had almost made him cry. Jimin hopes the present he makes for you this year will make you cry. In a good way, of course.

You and Jimin share every single one of your birthdays. It's been an ongoing tradition since Jimin turned six before you did. This year is no different. You had to tell a very bummed Namjoon that you already made dinner reservations with your best friend so he'd had to give you your present when you ate lunch with him earlier that day.

Jimin doesn't really think Namjoon likes him that much. He always eyes Jimin with some sort of suspect as if Jimin was going to steal you away from him. Hmph. The feeling is reciprocal.

When you came to your favorite restaurant wearing your favorite green dress, Jimin had already ordered the food and was patiently waiting with his hand-made present.

"Hey!" you cry as you slide into the seat.

"Happy birthday, Y/N!" Jimin smiles. "You look great!"

"Right?" you giggle, tossing your perfectly curled hair over your shoulder. "I felt like for my 25th birthday, I'd have to wear something cute. I'm halfway to the fucking 50 years old, Jimin. I'm aging too quickly," you huff, crossing your arms over your shoulder. "Did you order already?"

"O-Oh, yeah," Jimin says. "Why? Did you want something different?"

"No, I just wanted to check if the menus had any grammatical errors," you laugh, shrugging. "Oh well, when we get dessert menus, I'll check out RM."

"RM?"

"Oh! It's part of the gift Joon gave me," you exclaim, pulling out a—

"Red marker?" Jimin scrunches his eyebrows. "For your birthday?"

You nod, placing the marker on your desk and rolling it towards Jimin so he can pick it up and examine it. Jimin does, scrutinizing the marker that was most definitely not as great as Gilbert.

"Well, Joon always saw that I was correcting grammatical errors with Gilbert and he thought that something red would be more emphatic, you know?" you explain, taking out Gilbert from your left pocket. "Of course I love Gilbert more, but I thought I'd give RM a try. Besides, Joon said red serves as the better color for correcting. He said the color itself brings alert to the problem and that green is too passive. I guess I can see that."

Jimin frowns. "But you like green because it's 'passive,' " Jimin sighs as he makes air quotes with his hands. "And it doesn't make the corrections seem as rude and aggressive."

"I know, Jimin," you smile. "I'll try RM out once and keep it on a shelf somewhere. Gilbert's not going anywhere. You know that. Besides, Joon was really insistent that I tried it out, you know? He was so thoughtful too! I think it's a great gift! And I think it's endearing that he named it RM for me. Did you know RM used to be his nickname when he was back in college and in an acapella group? The man can sing! What can he not do?" you gush.

"He named the marker after himself?" Jimin snorts. Typical.

"Well, yeah, I guess he did!" you laugh. "It's like I'm always carrying around a mini him!"

Bleh.

"Yeah," Jimin agrees without much heart. "Oh, wanna see what I got you for your birthday?" he asks, hoping to steer the conversation away from your boyfriend.

"OH MY GOD, YES!" you exclaim. "I've been waiting for this moment since my last birthday."

"Good," Jimin grins as he whips out a box with pretty, green wrapping. "Here."

You take it from him, shaking the box wildly and with wide, happy eyes. "It's kinda heavy!" you comment, beginning to rip the wrapping off. You skillfully force the box open with the butt of your fork. When you finally see your present, you gasp. "Oh, Jimin, you fucking didn't."

"I fucking did," Jimin smiles proudly. "Open it."

You carefully take a photo book out of the box, your eyes glued on the beautiful front cover. "God. I'm tearing up just looking at the front," you laugh. "Where'd you even get these photos?"

He shrugs, smiling. "Here and there, you know?"

Jimin had made sure the cover of the photo book would be littered with childhood photos he and you had taken when you were younger. The rest of the book is filled with little memories the two of you shared growing up with captions and comments underneath. There are a total of 392 photos in the book. And Jimin had spent seven months accumulating them—mostly from his father's old camera and Jimin's old Nokia phone he dug out from his garage. You'd always wanted a photo book, so Jimin thought it was time to gift you with one.

You're excitedly flipping through the pages, spending more time to stare at the more sentimental photos. Even when the food arrives, you can't put the book away. You're so distracted with Jimin's present that you don't even try to correct the grammar errors on the dessert menus. So Jimin grabs Gilbert and makes corrections himself. He puts the correct accents on crème brûlée and corrects a rather obvious spelling error. Then, he proceeds to order two strawberry cheesecakes. Surprisingly, even when the dessert arrives, you don't put the book down.

It's rare when something entrances you so much that you don't speak for long periods of time. You haven't spoken a single word to Jimin ever since you'd started flipping through the photo book, and Jimin finds that he doesn't mind at all. He loves watching how your face relaxes and contorts again as the memories of your childhood flood through you. The last photo in the book is the one your granny took of you and Jimin fighting over the last glazed donut when the two of you were in first grade. Spoiler alert: you'd won. But you had also felt bad after watching Jimin sulk so you'd broken the donut in half and handed a piece to your best friend.

When you finally catch sight of the last photo, you gasp, putting a hand over your lips.

"Granny," you whisper. "She took this photo. I remember..."

You're practically clouded with nostalgia and Jimin swears he sees tears welling up in your eyes. But you won't cry over something as simple as this. It's the fact that you loved his gift so much that you almost cried that counts.

"Gosh... Jimin," you breathe, fanning your eyes. "I'm not crying, by the way. Something's in my eye, I don't know," you mumble.

Jimin grins.

"I don't even know what to say, Jimin. I love it. I'll cherish it forever. Thank you. God, it's perfect," you say. "Wow. You're leaving me speechless, Jimin. And it's very hard to shut me up. You're something special."

Jimin practically beams. All the time and effort he'd spent on your birthday gift had really paid off. He loves seeing you so happy that you can't even describe what you're feeling in words.

You carefully shut the photo book, setting it off to the side before staring right into Jimin's eyes. "I would totally fucking say I love you right now but I don't think Joon would appreciate it."

"What?" Jimin breathes as his heart flutters in his chest. "But he's not here right now."

"He doesn't like it when I do 'romantic' things with you," you sigh as you lean back. "We had a long discussion about it a few days ago."

"Romantic things?" Jimin makes a face. "What the hell is he talking about?"

"Oh, it's not a big deal!" you exclaim, waving your hands. "He just thinks, well, he thinks that some of the stuff that I do with you... um, is not really, uh, platonic."

Ah. Jimin sees where you're going with this. And now it's obvious why Joon always looks at him so suspiciously—Namjoon feels threatened by Jimin.

"How so?" Jimin asks but he already knows the answer.

"Like um, he doesn't like it when I sleep over at your place, you know?" you say, fidgeting in your seat. "And he really put his foot down when I told him we sometimes share a bed. He said I shouldn't really do that with you anymore."

Jimin understands where Namjoon is coming from. But at the same time, he feels as if Namjoon had violated his rights. His rights to be with you.

"I can't hold hands with you either," you say, looking down at your uneaten strawberry cheesecake. "I'm so sorry, Jimin. I know we've been doing it for so long and I swear, I didn't know it was strictly a relationship thing. But apparently it is, and it made Joon uncomfortable that we were holding hands when I'm really dating him and just—" you stop yourself from rambling, sighing as you take a sip of your ice water. "And I really love him, Jimin," you whisper. "I don't want to lose him."

"You love him already?" Jimin says with a slight tremor in his voice that you completely look over. "It's only been a month, Y/N."

"Love has nothing to do with time," you smile wistfully. "He's my prince, Jimin. If I let him go, he'll find someone else."

Jimin's silent, unable to think of anything to say that wouldn't hurt your feelings.

You take his silence as a bad sign. "Jimin, I didn't want to break all of this to you on a celebration night but I felt like you deserved to know earlier," you say in your secret language. "I'm sorry. It was all part of our tradition too."

"It's fine," Jimin sighs. But it's really not. Yet Jimin hides his pain by shoving a forkful of cake into his mouth. He chews slowly, swallows. "What Joon's suggesting is pretty justified. Don't worry about it."

The rest of your birthday dinner is somewhat awkward. Of course, you try to save the mood by cracking a few jokes here and there, but Jimin finds it hard to laugh. It's the worst birthday he's ever celebrated with you.

You and Joon have only started dating for a month, but so much as changed already. Jimin doesn't even want to think of the drastic changes that might follow as your relationship with your 'prince' deepens and blossoms into something even more serious.

When Jimin arrives at your home to walk you to work on a Monday morning, he does a double-take because he finds you already waiting outside, shivering from the chilly air in nothing but your plain work uniform. Never in the twenty years that he's known you have you ever been on your doorstep before him.

"Y/N?" Jimin asks, bewildered. "What happened?"

"Hey!" you exclaim, waving at your best friend enthusiastically. "Nothing happened. I'm just trying to get into the habit of being early. It's not a good habit to be late all the time."

"Your face is red, Y/N!" Jimin says, shrugging his thick coat off and handing it to you and you take it gratefully. "How long have you been waiting?"

"Eh, just a few minutes," you say, sniffling your runny nose and grinning. "I'm as red as RM! Besides, the sun's shining. You know what that means? I'm fine."

Jimin shakes his head. "You should've waited inside. I'm okay with waiting. I've done it for twenty years so I wouldn't mind doing it for more."

"Joon told me I should get into the habit of being early," you giggle. "I've been late to every single one of our dates so far, you know?"

"Well, you've been late to every single one of our hangouts but I never said anything," Jimin scoffs.

"It's different with you," you say, smiling.

How? Jimin so desperately wants to ask. But he's afraid of your answer.

You wrap Jimin's black coat tighter around yourself as you skip down the porch steps. "C'mon! I wanna get to work super early!"

It takes only a week later for Jimin to realize you like going to work early because your boyfriend's already there, waiting for you.

You've been with Namjoon for about three months now, and the effects are starting to impact Jimin's life rather largely. For starters, you're spending way less time with him than before. The daily routines you had established with him for years are broken as you mold your lifestyle in the way that Namjoon wants you to. Jimin hates change more than anything. You should know that.

And you do. You apologize profusely—any chance you get—about the little changes in his lifestyle because of you; Jimin never blames you, though.

When you missed his grad school graduation because Namjoon bought you expensive vacation tickets to an acclaimed resort in Hawaii, Jimin didn't blame you.

It was Namjoon who had bought the tickets and it was Namjoon who told you the trip wasn't refundable. It was Namjoon who wanted to take you away from Jimin for a week. You promised you would FaceTime him.

And you're the best promise-keeper in the world.

"How is it there?" Jimin asks in the secret language as he lounges on his couch. "Is the weather nice?"

"It's beautiful!" you exclaim, moving out of the screen to show Jimin the sparkling blue-green oceans behind you. "We went snorkeling a few hours ago and we just had lunch so we're waiting to digest our food before we dive in again! I wish you were here," you pout. "I'm sorry I missed your graduation, by the way. Was your father there?"

"Yeah, he was. Don't worry about that," Jimin says. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"Aw, thanks!" you giggle. "Joon really outdid himself with all of this. Oh, how's your job status, by the way?"

"I got the job," Jimin smiles. "I didn't go through with those extra few years of school for nothing."

"HA!" you snort. "If I actually went to college, I would've been kicked out for literally failing every class. Remember when I got a 32% on that physics test? God, I hated Mr. Chung. Look at that! After all of these years, I still remember his goddamn name!"

Jimin shakes from laughter. "Of course I remember! Mr. Chung told me to tutor you or something."

"And then you told Mr. Chung that—"

"Baby?" Namjoon calls off-screen, interrupting you mid-sentence.

You turn around to look at him. "Yeah, babe? Oh, wait, sorry. I mean, yeah, babe?"

Jimin can hear Namjoon sighing. "Baby, can you please, refrain from using that secret language of yours in public?" he whispers. "I'm so sorry, but it sounds a bit like a chicken is being repeatedly run over by a car and people are starting to stare."

Jimin's about to give Namjoon a piece of his mind when you cut in before him.

"Aw, I'm sorry Joon," you giggle. "I made the language when I was really young. Explains a lot, doesn't it? Sorry, Jimin," you tell the camera. "I guess we'll have to stop our encrypted conversation."

"And baby?" Namjoon calls. "We're on vacation! Technology should be off when we have such beautiful scenery around us."

Jimin grits his teeth.

"Right!" you laugh. "Silly me. Sorry, Jimin," you say again, not even looking into the camera this time. "I have to go! I'll talk to you later, okay? Bye!"

Before Jimin can even answer, you end the call. Jimin's left staring right back at his own frustrated face. He chucks his phone across his couch and covers his face with his hands.

At first, Jimin didn't like Namjoon because he was jealous. But now, it's come to more than that. Namjoon's been trying to change the little quirks and habits that made you, you; he's trying to mold you into the same society you rebelled against for all of your life. He's trying to take you away from Jimin. He's trying to strip you of everything you were before you met him.

But what can Jimin do about it?

You're too head over heels in love with this Kim Namjoon. That man is the self-proclaimed prince to your princess. Jimin can't help but think he's the ogre. A handsome, successful ogre who strikes slowly, so slowly that the damage cannot be detected until it's too late.

If Jimin tries to warn you about Namjoon and his dubious intentions, you might not believe him and hate Jimin for life. If Jimin says nothing, he might not be able to recognize you in a few years' time at the rate the changes are happening now.

Jimin doesn't know what to do. He hates confrontations—that had always been your job, not his. So he does what he always does: nothing.

Being with you every day is a mystery. You have something new up your sleeve every single day without fail. Whether it be a new fashion style or a new gadget you made, you're always flaunting something that others wouldn't dare flaunt. And that's what made you so special.

But the crazy color schemes that had once been in your closet have been reduced to dark, muted colors. The Halloween costumes you kept every year to wear as everyday clothes were sitting on a rack in some Goodwill store. You dressed... plainly now.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with that. It's just not you. It is Namjoon though. Besides from Jimin, Namjoon is the plainest man he knows. And so far, switching out your wardrobe was definitely not your idea, though you seem to believe it is. That Kim Namjoon. He's planting these stupid ideas in your head and you're absorbing them like a sponge, too kind and docile and a bit too naive to disagree with your boyfriend.

Jimin's heard the way you talk about him. Your eyes gloss over with complete adoration and you giggle at everything Namjoon does. You're madly in love with him, and Jimin can't do anything about it except watch.

But no matter how many of your habits and physical lifestyle Namjoon can change, he can't touch your personality. You're the same girl Jimin's known and loved for years and years of his life. And he's not going to let you go anytime soon.

"JIMIN!!!" you yell, almost knocking your friend over by hugging him the moment you open your apartment door to see his face. "You're two minutes late!" you pout as you drag him over in front of your television. "I already picked a movie!"

Jimin can't deny Friday movie nights with you is the only thing he looks forward to these days. Though you don't cuddle with him on the couch anymore, you like to lean against his shoulder. And that's enough contact for Jimin to be satisfied.

"Really?" Jimin grins. "What movie?"

"Interstellar!" you say, collapsing on your couch as you aggressively pat the empty seat next to you. "Hurry up! Hurry up! I'm excited!"

"Y/N? Are you sure?" Jimin asks as he sits down next to you with a confused look on his face. Usually, when you choose a movie, you always end up reverting back to your classic favorite Disney princess films. "I know you don't really like sci-fi..."

"Yeah, but I told Namjoon I already watched that movie, but I haven't. So now I need to watch it," you explain quickly. "You like sci-fi, though, so you can explain all the things I don't get! Which would be half of the movie."

There Namjoon goes again. Making you watch movies that literally lull you to sleep.

"Okay," Jimin sighs. He doesn't have the guts to tell you that he's watched this movie hundreds of times.

By the time the roll credits are playing on the screen, you're completely knocked out. Well, you've been knocked out since the first twenty minutes of the film. Jimin's been watching you sleep for the rest of the two hours and thirty minutes of the film. (Not in a creepy way—an endearing way.) He had to stop himself multiple times from reaching out and tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and away from your face.

God. Jimin needs a drink of water. Is it just him or is the room getting hotter?

He stands up slowly and quietly, making sure he wouldn't disturb your peaceful beauty sleep. Jimin's known your home since he was five; he could walk blindfolded to the kitchen if someone made him. He finds refuge near your water dispenser, fanning his face and taking his own cup from the cupboard. Your granny had bought that blue cup for him years ago, gifting you with a separate green cup. It's the only cup you use at home.

Jimin fills his cup with water, downing all of it in one large gulp. The water helps him cool off just a tad bit. He moves to place his used cup in the sink, his eyes habitually glancing over at your trash can.

You never remember to put a plastic bag inside it, which makes the gross remnants of your waste stick to your trash can. And Jimin can definitely say that that stench is horrendous. Jimin sighs as he finds an empty Walmart plastic bag rolling around your kitchen. He approaches the trash can, holding his breath just in case. But when he checks inside, there is nothing in it except for—

"GILBERT?" Jimin gasps loudly.

"JIMIN?!" you shriek. There's a resounding thud in the living room and a small "oof," from you as you lay sprawled on the floor.

"Y/N!" Jimin yells.

You dash over to your kitchen, rubbing your eyes and trying to adjust to the bright kitchen lights. "Jimin?" you say, your brows furrowed as you approach your friend who's pointing aggressively at your trash can with wide, angry eyes. "Oh," you say softly when you realize what he's talking about. "Right..."

"Why is Gilbert in the trash, Y/N?" Jimin asks, running his fingers through his hair as he grips the kitchen counter for stability. "Was it Namjoon? Did he do this?"

"No!" you shout. "I did it, Jimin. I tossed Gilbert in the trash."

"Why?" Jimin whispers, taking a step away from you. "That marker's everything to you."

"I know, Jimin, I know," you groan. "It dried out. It's ages old, you know?"

"But you take such good care of it, Y/N." Jimin shakes his head. "And you're just tossing it away like that because it dried out? What about your grandfather? What about your granny?"

"Jimin, it's fine. I'm fine," you say, shrugging. "It's time I let go, you know?

"Let go of what, Y/N? The only family you've known?" Jimin sighs. "What happened to saving the world by correcting their grammatical errors?"

"Its," you reply.

"What?" Jimin says exasperatedly.

"Saving the world by correcting its grammatical errors," you say, a slow smile emerging on your face as Jimin shakes his head to hide his own grin beginning to manifest on his face. "I'm sorry, Jimin. You're right. I don't know what I was thinking," you say. "Well, I wasn't. Joon and I had our first fight today."

"Oh..."

"No, don't you 'oh' me, Park Jimin!" you laugh. "It's really not that bad! He told me I had a premature taste in films and an immature outlook on life, but I mean, he's not wrong, you know? I tried to stay awake watching Interstellar. I really did. But Joon's right. I can't like anything that's advanced. And I realized that it's a crime to vandalize, too..."

"So you threw Gilbert away because of that?"

"Well, yeah," you say. "It's a crime, Jimin. I didn't even know until Joon told me! He's so wise!"

"Oh, god," Jimin groans, burying his face in his hands.

"Ah, c'mon, Jiminie," you say, grabbing his wrists and trying to pry his hands away from his face. "He's helping me move on, you know? He's helping me become a better person!"

A better person.

The words sting. If your definition of a 'better person' is losing the spark, the color of your life, then fine. You were already a better person than before. But all Jimin can see is the monochrome you. The you without color. Which doesn't really seem like you at all.

But it hasn't rained in a while, so maybe you were truly fine with losing your color. Either that or you had also lost the ability to control the weather with your emotions. Jimin wouldn't be surprised if that were the case.

Jimin is a patient man. Not only has he waited twenty years for you to love him back (which you never did), but also he never outwardly expressed his frustrations with your change in lifestyle to you.

Besides, if Namjoon's making you that happy, then there really was no problem, right?

Wrong.

You call Jimin on Sunday with the worst news ever imaginable.

"I'm moving!" you squeal and Jimin can hear you jumping up and down on your bed from the other line. "Joon asked me to move in with him!!"

You've only dated him for four months.

"H-He did?" Jimin stutters, cursing himself for sounding so pathetically off-guard. "What about your home? Your granny's home?"

You've lived in that house ever since you were born until now.

"I can't live in that house, forever, Jimin. I want to move on!" you say. "Plus, I think Joon and I are ready to take our relationship to the next level!"

"That's ridiculous," Jimin mutters, raking his fingers through his hair in pure frustration.

"Sorry?" you say.

Shit. Jimin had forgotten you were still on the phone.

"Nevermind," he sighs.

"Jiminie," you say with that characteristic lilt in your voice. "You can tell me what you're thinking you know! I haven't been your ride or die best friend for twenty years to not know what's going on with you."

"I know," Jimin says. But he can't tell you that he absolutely despises your boyfriend. It'll break your heart. And Jimin doesn't want to be the reason for your unhappiness. "Congratulations, Y/N," he says. "I hope you like your new place, then."

"I love it, Jimin!" you squeal. "Joon remodeled his bedroom recently and damn it's just so beautiful! I'll finally be living in a castle with my prince!"

"That's great, Y/N!"

"I know, right?" you exclaim in such a voice that Jimin can tell you're absolutely beaming on the other line. "You have to come over when the move's finished! You know what? Come over this Friday for movie night! I wanna give you a tour of my new home!"

"Namjoon won't mind?" Jimin asks.

"He's going out with friends that night," you giggle. "We'll have the whole place to ourselves! Did you know Joon has a flat-screen TV?? It's humongous!"

The offer sounds very tempting. Watching a movie on a high-end television with you on a Friday night? Hell yes. It almost makes up for the fact that you're moving out of the house you and Jimin had practically grown up in.

God, Jimin can't wait for Friday to come.

It's Jimin's turn to choose the movie when Friday night finally rolls around. Since he knows you nearly idolize Rapunzel, he suggests the two of you rewatch Tangled for probably the millionth time. But before the movie had to come the house tour, of course.

Namjoon's home is rather spacious for a guy who was single for a long time. You parade around the home as you've already lived in it your whole life. Jimin silently tags along. He has to admit that Namjoon's home is, indeed, better than your granny's old house. But he nearly bursts with jealousy when you show him around the big bedroom that you supposedly share with Namjoon.

"Isn't it great?!" you say, twirling around the commodious room with a bright grin on your face. "Joon even bought new sheets for us! I wanted green and he wanted white, so we went with light gray," you giggle. "Compromise of the century, huh?"

"Still looks white to me," Jimin mutters under his breath. But you're so hyped about showing your best friend around your boyfriend's home that you don't hear him.

"C'mon, let's go watch Tangled, now!" you say, dragging Jimin back to Namjoon's expensive leather couch and switching on the flat-screen TV.

Both of you collapse on the couch, leaning against each other by habit as the movie begins to play on the screen. Jimin's watched the film with you so many times that he's basically memorized the whole script.

You like to silently mouth Rapunzel's lines and Jimin mouths Eugene Fitzherbert's lines. You also like to sing when Rapunzel does, and you've been trying to convince Jimin for years to sing with you. But Jimin does not sing. And that was that.

No matter how many times you've watched Tangled, you cry when Eugene Fitzherbert 'dies.' Before you were dating Namjoon, you'd always bury yourself in Jimin's arms, waiting until the climax of the scene is over. Nowadays, you limit yourself to placing your head on Jimin's shoulder, burying your face in Namjoon's couch pillows. Jimin doesn't mind. He likes that you take comfort in his presence.

Just as the tension of the scene is about to lift, the front door of the house opens and Namjoon walks in. But you're so engrossed in the movie that you barely notice, instead, digging your face harder into the pillow.

Jimin's head jerks towards Namjoon and their eyes meet. Namjoon doesn't look very happy. For just a split second, Jimin fears his life. He takes the time to scoot a bit away from you so Namjoon doesn't come for his neck. You whine when Jimin pulls away, trying to tug him back as your eyes are glued to the TV.

"Y/N..." Jimin whispers. "Your boyfriend's here."

"Oh, what?!" you say, breaking from the trance that the movie had put on you and finally turning your head to see a frowning Namjoon. "Joon! You came back so early!"

"Why is he here?" Namjoon asks, ignoring your enthusiasm. He doesn't look at you when he speaks, his eyes trained on Jimin, instead. Jimin gulps.

"It's Friday movie night!" you laugh. "We're watching Tangled! Oh, Jimin can you pause the movie? Damn, we'll have to rewind it. Wanna watch with us?"

"No, Jimin," Namjoon says through gritted teeth. "Turn the TV off. Y/N, this is not your home. It is ours. You're to tell me if you are to have guests over." He glares at Jimin again. "Then we can talk if they are welcome here or not."

"I-I, uh, I have to go," Jimin stutters, desperately, standing up from the couch.

"But we didn't even finish the movie!" you protest, grabbing Jimin's wrist and looking at him with puppy dog eyes. "We always finish the movie."

"Y/N, we need to talk. Let him go," Namjoon says, crossing his arms.

"I—" you sigh, letting go of Jimin's wrist. "Okay..."

It hurts to watch you look down at your feet like Namjoon was scolding you. You look so small, powerless up against him that just for one, small second, Jimin contemplates staying. Maybe give Kim Namjoon a piece of his mind.

But who is he kidding? Jimin could never compare himself to a man like Namjoon.

"I'll uh, talk to you later," Jimin quickly says. He doesn't look back when he leaves and you watch him go with a certain emptiness in your heart.

The moment Jimin's out the door, he runs. He runs from your boyfriend, your obvious pain... He runs away from himself. But he should know. No one can outrun cowardliness.

You're really the only significant figure in his life; the only person he's loved for twenty consecutive years. Yet he can't do anything to save you from the obvious monster that is your boyfriend. Jimin hates himself for that.

He crash-lands on his bed, burying himself in his pillows and drowning in self-hatred. He lays still for what seems like hours in the darkness, the silence. He tries to numb his thoughts. But when his vision is nothing but a black screen, he cannot do anything but think.

He thinks of the fight you might be having with Namjoon. He thinks of how sad you must be inside. He wonders if you genuinely like being with Namjoon. He wonders if you're genuinely happy. But most of all, he wants to know if you miss your old self.

Jimin groans when he hears his phone ring next to him. He doesn't want to get up nor move, but something inside tells him that it's important. That it might be you.

And it is.

Hurriedly, Jimin answers the call. "Y/N?"

"H-Hey, J-Jimin," you wheeze.

Jimin freezes. You're crying. And everyone knows you don't cry.

"Y/N?!" Jimin panics, sitting up. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Of course I'm okay!" you yell, making Jimin wince at the harshness of your voice in his ear. "Joon and I just fought! I'm fine!" you sniffle. "You said to talk to you later so I'm calling you!" you try to laugh but it comes out like a broken sob. "I'm not crying, I swear!"

Bullshit.

This is the third time Jimin's heard you cry. The first two times had been because of your granny. This time? It was because of that bastard, Namjoon.

"Did he do anything to you?" Jimin says, his hands slightly shaking as he waits for an answer.

"No! Joon would never," you say. "We just talked. You don't have to worry, Jimin."

"He looked angry when I left..."

"He was..." you sigh. "Listen, Jimin... this is going to sound bad, but um... Joon... He, well, he doesn't want you coming over anymore."

"What?!" Jimin blurts out. "At all?"

"It's okay! It's okay!" you say, though you sound far from it. "I can always come over to your house!" You sigh deeply. "It's just that I don't think Joon's very comfortable around you."

No, he's just not comfortable when I'm around you.

"This is ridiculous," Jimin mutters.

"Sorry, Jimin, what did you say?" you ask. "I didn't hear."

Jimin closes his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He tries to stay calm, tries to keep from bursting out and yelling, but he can't help himself. It had to be said. "It's fucking ridiculous!" he shouts suddenly, standing up and starting to pace back and forth in his room with a crazed look on his face. "He's being fucking ridiculous!" he yells.

"Him? You mean Joon?" you say.

"Yeah!" Jimin throws up his hand in frustration. "He's acting like he fucking owns you!" Jimin snaps.

God. He's done it now. There's no going back.

"He's not, though!" you protest. "Don't get mad, Jimin. He's only voicing his rightful opinion. There's nothing wrong with that."

"He's trying to separate us!" Jimin yells. "Don't you get it?"

"No!" you say, starting to raise your voice. "Joon wouldn't do that!"

"Like he wouldn't fucking convince you to throw away Gilbert? Like he wouldn't convince you to clean out your closet and replace it with clothes that he finds sensible? Like he wouldn't fucking convince you to keep your distance from me?? He wouldn't fucking do any of these, huh?" Jimin shouts, his voice interlaced with anger and sorrow. His throat feels raw in his neck, but he continues on with the thoughts he's held in for months. "You're blind, Y/N! He's ruining your fucking life can't you see? Where's the Y/N who used to talk to me for hours before going to sleep in our secret language? When's the last time you've spoken that, huh? And when's the last time you pretended to control the weather with your emotions? Where's the real Y/N? What happened to her?"

"Joon doesn't like her!" you yell at the top of your lungs. Your voice rings in Jimin's ear.

"Why do you want Joon to like you? What are you trying to prove to him?" Jimin cries, his voice quivering.

"I'm following my path to love!" you shout. "It's something you'd never understand. You don't even know what that is! I've never, ever seen you pine for anyone in the fucking twenty years I've known you! You can't be talking about love if you've never fucking felt it!"

Jimin collapses on his bed, his head numb and hands cold.

You take his silence as defeat. "I fucking thought so," you say. "Joon says you're too dependent on me. You need to go out and make another friend other than me. The world changes, Jimin. People come and go. Stop being just so—just so fucking stuck in the past. Goodbye."

You don't wait for a response, ending the call right away.

Jimin's phone slips from his ear, falling face down on his bed. He's frozen into shock. If only you knew why he had never chased after love for twenty fucking years. He didn't need to. Because his love was right in front of his face the whole time.

Aside from the occasional bickering as kids, you and Jimin had never fought. This is the first time both of you had exchanged nasty words with each other.

You had used to call Jimin a peaceful soul because of his extreme hate for confrontations, unnecessary drama and fighting. Not once in his life had Jimin ever said something that he knew could damage something significant to him. Not once in his life had Jimin ever initiated an argument. Not once in his life had Jimin ever really argued, in fact. It had always been you yelling and Jimin nodding if anything.

But when things had stacked up, Jimin couldn't take it anymore. He'd cracked. He'd yelled. And he'd finally fought with his words.

Yet the fight doesn't symbolize anything except a double loss for Jimin because you had ultimately chosen Namjoon over him. Then, you'd proceeded to completely crush his heart by failing to recognize his love for you.

Jimin never had to worry about heartbreak. He and you had always been best friends, nothing more. No matter how much he loved you, he never acted upon it, which meant you never rejected him. So, yeah, no heartbreak.

But this... that fight... When you'd accused him of not knowing love... when he had loved you for years. That was heartbreak. And it is still heartbreak.

Jimin found it extremely hard to get out of bed every morning after the fight. Sometimes, throughout the day, when something even the slightest bit amusing happens, he whips out his phone to inform you of it. Then, he realizes he and you are not quite on speaking terms at the moment. Jimin also realizes if he can't text you, he has no one else to text.

Maybe you were right. Jimin needs more friends.

It's almost been a week since the fight on the phone; it has also been almost a week of constant rain. It pours down hard and steady, only slowing down for light drizzles in the afternoons. It's the only reassurance that Jimin can get. That you're just as sad as him. That some part of you misses him as much as he misses you.

The weather forecast said the rain was supposed to clear by tonight. But Jimin waits by his window, where the thunder clouds boom over the roof of his lonely house and the rain pounds against the concrete. It's a storm.

He worries about you.

Maybe he should text you? Call you? What if you're all alone in your room, crying profusely and that bastard of a boyfriend, Namjoon's giving you the silent treatment? It's like Jimin can feel your pain through the weather.

A lightning bolt flashes through the sky and four seconds later, Jimin hears the booming thunderclap. It wasn't supposed to rain today. You must be crying all alone. You must be missing your granny. You must be missing him.

Another sharp thunderbolt pierces through the dark rain clouds in the sky and the thunderclap rings louder than the last. That's it. Jimin picks up his phone.

It's sad that you're still the only person in his favorites contact 'list.' He taps on your icon and presses the phone against his ear, looking out the window as if you were out in the rain all by yourself. The phone rings. Once. Twice. Three times. Usually, by then, you pick up the phone. But it occurs to Jimin now, that this is not going to be a usual conversation. His phone is heavy in his hands and he rests his cheek against the cold window, wondering if you're ever going to pick up.

Maybe you're crying so hard that you can't hear your phone ring.

Jimin lets out a shaky sigh, just about to disconnect the call to avoid hearing the all-too painful dial tone when you finally pick up.

"J-Jimin?" you breathe, groaning. "God, Jimin."

"Y/N?" Jimin exclaims. "Thank god, Y/N!" he breathes a sigh of relief.

"Mmm," you groan again.

"That's right, princess. You're mine all right?" a hushed, masculine voice whispers.

"Joon," you whine, urgently. "Please..."

Jimin can hear the soft slapping of skin in the background, Namjoon's heavy grunts and your whimpering. Immediately, the hairs on the back of Jimin's neck stand up straight. It's then when he realizes that you're moaning from pleasure. That Kim Namjoon's fucking you right now. And that you had still decided to pick up Jimin's call.

Tears blur Jimin's sight as he fumbles to end the call, chucking his phone halfway across the room afterward. He crumbles up in a ball, digging his face into his arms and sobbing.

Did you disrespect him that much? To pick up the call so he could hear you having sex?

It's the first time Jimin's ever questioned why he's in love with you.

Maybe, in the beginning, he had good reasons, but that had been because you had good intentions. You had been boisterous, unafraid to go against the current, wild, rebellious and had this my-way-or-the-high-way kind of character. That's the person Jimin had fallen in love with. The girl who carried around a green marker in her pockets to correct others' grammatical errors. The girl who invented a secret language when she was young just because she felt like it one day. The girl who convinced herself and others that she could control the weather with her emotions. The girl who didn't give two shits about what anyone thought of her. The girl who wore whatever the fuck she wanted because she could. The girl who never showed him when she was sad because she wanted to be strong, resilient. That's the person Jimin had fallen in love with.

But who the fuck are you?

Jimin had used to think it was Namjoon's fault you were so different. But you'd let him change you. You'd become docile, tedious, plain. All the things Jimin was and is. It's your fault. You could've stopped everything if you wanted. You could've broken up with Namjoon. But you didn't. Because you wanted to change.

Jimin can't love the new you. He doesn't even know if he can see you again.

His body shakes hard with fear and rage.

He's definitely not going to see you again.

He was never your prince; you'd ultimately chosen Namjoon. And you were never his princess; he had been delusional to think so.

He's going to walk out of your life. He needs to leave. For himself.

Jimin had already spent a week without your company and that had been enough. Now he wants to cut off all contact with you. He's already blocked your number, switched apartments and stashed away everything that reminded him of you—which was fairly a lot of things. He was so determined to be independent, to forget what it felt like to be dependent on you.

But without your presence, his bland life was even blander than before.

Waking up every day and not walking you to work felt foreign to him. Friday nights felt lonely without you. Weekends were dull. Weekdays were even worse.

He missed having to hear your bright, cheery voice. He missed talking about the craziest things with you. He missed waking up in the morning and wondering what you would be wearing today. He missed Gilbert. He missed your granny, too. Most of all, he missed you.

But you'd hurt him. Whittled away his heart little by little over the many years just by never loving him back. You'd humiliated him by choosing the man you knew for four months over the man you'd been best friends with for two decades.

Jimin figures he'll miss you for a long time. You'd been a large part of his life, after all. He'd already broken off contact with you, and that was already a giant leap. The next step would be to stop thinking about you, and the step after that to stop missing you. And when that's all over, he can stop loving you.

Looking back, Jimin realizes he struggled to get his life back on track for nearly eleven, long months. He'd seen winter come, spring pass and summer leave. But just as winter was making its presence on the weather again, frosting the leaves of plants and chilling the morning air, he'd finally come to his senses.

The past eleven months had been mournful. But as the days passed, he'd allowed himself to think about his current life more than his past. It had occurred to him that now, he was living a life of no-nonsense. Of no silly, childish imaginations. He was living in reality. Where he should've been in for all of his life.

Sure, he spent his birthday alone and without you for the first time since he was five years old. But it was something he could get used to. Celebrating the day he turned one year older just didn't seem like such a big deal anymore.

Maturity suits Park Jimin well.

He'd always preferred things that were tangible, anyway. Things that could be proven. Things that made sense. It was time to say goodbye to the foolish things of his past: secret languages, weather-controlling, naming markers...

It took him eleven months, no, 25 years, but Jimin finally became an adult.  

He's 27, now.

He likes to drink black coffee in the morning like his co-workers. He likes vanilla ice cream the best just because it's the most simple. He likes to tell women that he's a civil engineer to impress them on first dates. He has an adequate number of friends. He goes to work five days a week, eight hours per day. He drinks on Friday nights, watches the news and goes to bed early. On the weekends, he spends his mornings reading articles in the science section of the paper and he hangs around bars at night with his friends.

It's a humble, normal, plain life. But Jimin likes it. It suits him.

He has thoughts about you from time to time; he would never forget what it felt like to love you. But he never again gets the urge to call you. You're a figment of his past, and Jimin's moved on.

The early spring breeze caresses Jimin's cheek as he walks steadily, staring at Google Maps on his phone and glancing up every once in a while so he doesn't run into a pole like last time. He was supposed to have a Sunday brunch with Jeon Jungkook but that silly bastard had canceled last minute on him to take his own girlfriend out on a date. Typical. But Jimin actually appreciates the alone time.

Jungkook had promised to take Jimin to a great cafe that was walking distance from Jimin's place. Since Jimin had nothing better to do, he decided to have his brunch there alone.

"You've arrived at your destination," the monotone voice named Karen drolls.

When Jimin looks up, he sees a small cafe sitting at the corner of the block, surrounded by towering trees shading the area and lots and lots of verdant green bushes. Something about the place seems homely. Familiar, even.

Deja vu, maybe? Jimin thinks.

He doesn't think much more and walks in. The inside of the cafe is decorated mainly with wood, green yarn and healthy vines twisting around the furniture. Jimin's hit by a cordial, oaky smell that instantly calms his nerves and clears his mind. The place is completely empty, too. His footsteps pad against the wooden floor as he admires the little cafe. The ordering counter stands in the corner, fairy lights and green paper lanterns dangling from it to illuminate its surroundings. Jimin walks towards the lights as if he were in a trance.

Something about this place seems so damn familiar.

Jimin hasn't felt this connected with nature, with this much creative liberty since—

"Jimin."

He whirls around, eyes widening and mouth dropping open when he recognizes the owner of that voice. Sure enough, he sees you, wiping your hands on a bright green waist apron. You're wearing a white pirate blouse that could've passed for a Halloween costume and a skirt with layers and layers of different shades of green fabrics—it looks like you'd made it yourself.

"Y/N," your name leaves his lips in a breathless whisper.

"Hey," you smile, waving awkwardly. "It's been a while, huh?"

A while? Two whole fucking years, in actuality. "Yeah, I guess," Jimin nods. He glances at the door, contemplating just leaving, but some instinct inside of him urges him to stay. "You work at this place?" he asks as he walks up to the counter where you're getting ready to take his order.

"Yeah," you giggle. God, Jimin had missed that smile of yours, but of course, he doesn't want to admit it. "Well, I own this place."

"Really?" Jimin asks. "It's beautiful."

"Thanks!" you say. "I decorated it myself. What can I get for you? Do you want me to recommend our best dishes? Look, we have a separate menu just for brunches!" you say excitedly, showing Jimin a neatly laminated menu laced with green yarn. "I recommend the Gilbert Special. Eggs, toast, bacon and hash browns. But, the Jimin Special is our house favorite!"

"The what?"

"100% off for the person it was inspired by," you smile. "That's you, by the way."

"W-Wow, Y/N, I'm—"

"No! You have to take the offer!" you say. "You can't even say you won't like it because it's literally all your favorite breakfast foods combined!"

Jimin smiles, shaking his head. "It's really the house favorite?"

"You bet it is," you laugh.

"Then I guess I'll have a Jimin Special," Jimin says. "Any chance it comes with a glazed donut?"

You shoot him a knowing look, a grin spreading across your lips. "It wouldn't be a Jimin Special without one."

Jimin ends up having brunch with you.

The icy, awkward barriers in the beginning slowly melt away into the friendship Jimin had known for more than half of his life. He dines on the best breakfast he could have ever asked for while getting to talk to you again after nearly two years. He can't imagine a better way to spend his Sunday.

Small talk with you is fun because you spice everything up with loud gasps, wide eyes and extroverted reactions that make even the dullest stories exhilarating. But it's suffocating to speak of such shallow things with a person he'd been best friends with for twenty years. Jimin's dying to know how you've really been, not what you found hilariously funny last week.

"So," he asks, "how are things with Namjoon?"

You snort, shaking your head. "God, that was fucking ages ago," you say. "We broke up a while back."

"Sorry," Jimin says. But he's not really.

"You're not that sorry, aren't you?" you laugh as Jimin's face morphs in shock when you call him out. "It's okay. I know how you feel about him. And I agree with you now. That idiot had the audacity to tell me to grow up. And he called you a good-for-nothing-awkward-ass-wimpy-child." You roll your eyes. "I knew it had to end when he said that. Besides, there's a certain highly endearing thing about innocence, don't you think? We should all be a little more childish."

"Wow," Jimin breathes.

"Wow, indeed," you smile wistfully. "That bastard could've said anything he wanted to me, but he shouldn't have dared to bring you up like that. I can't fucking believe I thought he was going to be my prince! I was so scared I'd lose him so I did everything he said, you know? God, in retrospect, I was just a really, really, oblivious and desperate idiot."

"You were just in love, Y/N," Jimin says. "Love makes you blind."

Your face twists for just a split second before you smile, shaking your head and sighing. "Jimin, I feel like I have to get this out before we become life-long best friends for fucking ever again."

"Hm?"

"I never apologized for what I told you like, two years ago," you say. "That fight we had on the phone? I told you that you didn't know love. And god, I've regretted saying that for every day, every hour, every fucking minute and second of my life. It was wrong." You shake your head, looking extremely disappointed in yourself. "At least what you told me was right. God, I was so angry, so terrified of losing my first love that I spit out words without thinking. How could I say you didn't know love, Jimin?" you say. "Of course you did—of course you do. You wouldn't have stuck by my side for years if you didn't. And Jimin, fuck. I love you too. I never said it enough. But I'm saying it now. I love you and I missed you. And I'm sorry I picked up the phone when I was having sex."

Jimin laughs. Around two years ago, that day had definitely not been a laughing matter. But only time can tell if the most depressing matters can morph into rather laughable memories. "I love you too, Y/N," he says. "And you shouldn't be sorry. I think we're all past that now."

"C'mon, I wanna show you how I redecorated my granny's home!" you say, bolting up and taking Jimin's cleared plates in your hands. "Meet me at the front of the cafe in two minutes!" you holler as you dash to the kitchen.

Jimin can't get rid of the smile on his face. He adjusts his jacket and stands up, taking another look around the cafe before he exits with a light skip to his step. He'll have to buy Jungkook dinner sometime for recommending this cafe to him. What was the name of this place, anyway?

Jimin steps back and squints at the big, capital letters placed on a banner in front of the cafe. He can't help the laugh that bubbles out of him.

"Nothing a Lil Green Can't Fix!" you exclaim as you come bounding down the steps of the cafe to stand next to Jimin. "Isn't that true? Green fixes like, everything."

"Lil's not a word, Y/N. I thought you knew better," Jimin jokes.

"Oh, spare me," you say, placing a dramatic hand on your forehead. "It had to be done. The stupid company had a character limit for the logo. It was either Nothing a Lil Green Can't Fix or Nothing Green Can't Fix," you huff. "And the latter is completely disgusting."

"I agree," Jimin snorts. "Then, in that case, I believe you made the right decision."

You smile. "I sure did. So, shall we go now?"

"Definitely."

Your granny's apartment looks exactly the same on the outside, but on the inside is an abundance of green. From plants to paintings to posters to silverware, everything is green.

"Nothing a lil green can't fix, indeed," Jimin breathes as you drag him around the whole place.

"Right?" you giggle. "Look! I even made a separate cabinet with all the birthday presents I've ever received from you!!"

The tour nearly takes five hours because the two of you get distracted every other minute, indulging yourselves in past childhood memories. And when Jimin's been tired out, the two of you lay side by side on your dark green sheets, silent but comfortable.

"Hey, Jimin?" you whisper, breaking the silence momentarily.

"Hm?"

"Remember our senior year in high school?"

"Of course I do," Jimin says. That year was the hardest (arguably) in your life. It was the year where you learned of the fatalities of death. It was the year you had lost your granny.

"We had the conversation about our true fears that year," you say with so much nostalgia in your voice that when Jimin closes his eyes, he can see the events of that day unfold before him. "Turns out, I didn't have just one fear. I had two. One was losing Granny. The other was losing you. And you know? For two years, I thought I lost you both. It hurt to think that my best friend hated me so much he had to dissociate himself from my life."

"I didn't hate you," Jimin says, opening his eyes as he turns to his side to look at you. "I swear. I just figured it was a good time for me to self-improve. You know, become independent for once. And maybe I didn't like who you had become, but I never hated you."

"Really?" you say, turning to face your best friend. "I was so scared that you'd shit talk me if I ran after you when you left that I didn't do anything. I thought it would've been better if I let you go. But I mean, I think the time apart was needed. We've self-improved."

"Yeah," Jimin agrees.

"So..." you say, a silly grin appearing on your face, "are we reunited now? Best fucking friends forever?"

"Of course we are," Jimin says.

"Okay, good," you say. "And before you say anything else, I have to ask you something, Jimin."

"What is it, Y/N?" Jimin asks, sitting up as you start to rummage in the pockets of your skirt.

"I just—" you're unable to finish your sentence, smiling. "Will you color me green, please?" you politely ask as you hold out a green marker in your hands.

"Oh my god," Jimin breathes. "Is that—"

"I pulled him out of the trash, Jimin," you say, eyes watering with emotion. "As soon as you left that night, I pulled him out. And then I kept him with me for years. I even recently got the ink replaced so it works fine, now." You let your tears fall down your face and you blink rapidly to see your best friend's softened face. "Did you really think for a second that I'd throw him away?" you ask in your secret language.

Jimin almost sobs right then and there. He'd never thought he'd hear that language again, and even after two years, he's able to understand you fluently. He hopes he doesn't sound too awkward when he replies, "I mean, you did have him in the trash can," he laughs, wiping away his tears with the back of his hand. "You really want me to color you green again?"

"It's the bestest color in the world. What did you expect?"

Jimin's never been happier in his life. Tears streak your cheeks but you are unbothered by them, holding out Gilbert for Jimin to take. He takes note that you do not try to hide your tears anymore. In a way, you've become more beautifully confident. He realizes that you want to take him back to the start—the very beginning of when your friendship had commenced. With those simple words, "Will you color me green?" you've transported the two of you back to a place of innocence, of childishness, of thoughts of staying young forever, of avoiding maturity at all costs.

Outside, there's a slow drizzle of rain, indicating another spring shower. But above the soft gray rain clouds is a double rainbow. The colors are so vibrant, they wash away the monotonous hues of the clouds heavy with rain.

Romantic love makes people suffer. Jimin should know. He's been in love with you romantically for nearly two decades. He's felt feelings such as pain, experienced experiences such as heartbreak and dealt with the understanding of the wretched concept of unrequited love. But now? Two years later?

He realizes that you may never love him the way he had loved you. But that's okay. Because maturity is when you accept the way things are. Being childish is refusing to let go, which is what Jimin is too—he refuses to let go of you. But that goes the same for you, for you refuse to let go of Jimin.

You still love him. And for once in his whole fucking life, Jimin loves you in the same exact way that you love him.

a/n: find my behind the scenes thoughts and original endings here!

masterlist

[yukippe]

soft as she is

for @pjofemslashweek day 1: firsts (first heartbreak, first love, first kiss) | read on ao3 | word count: 7.4k

chapter one

  the war is coming. that’s the whisper coming from everyone’s mouth. drew hears it in every one of her siblings' sighs, she hears it at all the tables at meals, she sees in it chiron’s always tired face. 

  years ago, before the fall of the labyrinth or the revival of thalia grace or even the claiming of percy jackson - drew used to use charmspeak for fun. she’d convince her friends to go on the tallest roller coaster with her, or get her dad to take her shopping, or get off scot free when prank calling someone. when she tried to convince the world to get her a visit with her mother her voice ran dry. aphrodite didn’t even bother to visit her dreams and her charmspeak didn’t work for months. drew doesn’t use charmspeak much anymore, no matter what others say. 

  silena’s had her practicing everyday. silena is the only sibling older than drew in camp. and silena wants them to fight in the war. when drew and silena were the youngest in cabin 10 they’d stuck together, though now drew can’t remember what it was like to know all of her sister’s secrets. but, silena had whispered that her charmspeak could be more when they were little. now, silena is doing her best to make it so. 

  silena believes they can win the war that ends on percy jackson’s birthday. drew doesn’t have her faith, but she can fight by her sister if that’s what silena needs. she thinks of charles beckendorf and how silena refuses to hear anything on breaking up with him - and drew thinks of katie gardner in cabin four who never remembers to touch up her chipping nail polish. if drew’s only big sister left can have the type of love that lasts - maybe drew can too. the war is coming. drew doesn’t have much time left to take a chance.

  halfway through june, right after katie comes back to camp, drew decides to completely innocently take up hours at the strawberry farm. she tells silena she’s testing out how charmspeak works on plants (surprisingly well) and she tells her friends she’s testing out a strawberry aesthetic (it turns out so well she ends up making earrings and ordering a new flavour lip gloss). drew doesn’t need to do much, it’s not like anyone would ever guess why she’s there. 

  nobody knows she likes girls, besides silena, and silena would never guess she likes katie. because katie’s good. katie doesn’t turn down quests, or work and she always reports travis and connor stoll to chiron when they’re about to pull a prank. she runs her cabin with her half sister miranda and drew’s never heard anything honestly bad about her, except for maybe the stupid jokes the stoll brothers say. if everyone knew she liked girls they would expect her to like someone like herself, drew thinks. someone obviously pretty and not covered in dirt who never wears makeup and doesn’t bother to alter the camp t shirt. 

  but katie’s katie. katie’s one of the campers that’s been around forever. she’s been at camp one summer longer than drew, when katie was ten and drew was nine, katie showed her around camp while they both waited to be claimed. 

  katie and drew came early. they weren’t the youngest, that was annabeth who had years on them both. katie was a summer only camper, but drew’s dad had told her she had to stay at camp until high school when he dropped her off that summer. he’d known her mother was a goddess - the story he’d always told was that he prayed for a muse and he got something even better. he didn’t know which one though. 

  so drew tanaka was left crying in the big house in camp full of kids too big with no clue who her mom was and her dad off to get back to his world of models and galleries and trips to europe. chiron had left her with a box of tissues, but he’d been busy trying to keep some children of the war god from starting a fight, like that was something normal around camp. drew just wanted to go back to her room with her fluffy carpet and her plans with her friends and her dad who normally listened to what she wanted when she phrased it the right way. she couldn’t get the words to take the right sugary taste and the perfect soft roundness they had when people listened. no one ever seemed to listen without it. but it took so much work to get them to sound perfect and drew was tired of it. 

   and then katie gardner passed by with a potted cactus in her arms. she’d only had a summer and a year on drew, but she’d put down the pot at the bottom of the steps and walked up to wear drew was sitting on the porch swing and sat next to her. 

  “i’m katie gardner,” she offered. “this is my second summer and. well i guess i kinda know how you feel. i cried a bunch last summer, but this place is nice. there are people like us here.”

  drew had wiped her tears away and crossed her arms and looked katie up and down. “i’m drew. what’s your mom in charge of?”

  “i don’t know, i haven’t been claimed yet,” katie said. her face got a little screwy at that and drew didn’t want to have to try and comfort another girl when she was already upset so she stuck her hand out to shake katie’s. 

  “your mom’s stupid then,” drew said. katie smiled softly and teary at that and drew didn’t mention it. 

  “so,” drew said, still holding katie’s hand because it felt right. “what is there to do around here?”

  katie’s smile grew a little bigger and she stood up, pulling drew with her by their still linked hands, “the strawberry fields are my favourite spot, but the arts and crafts centre is also nice. we could make friendship bracelets there, if you’d like?”

  “sure,” drew said, trying not to sound too eager. “i um. i’d like that a lot. Thanks.”

  the rest of the first summer was a haze of flower crowns katie made for them and sneaking to the waterfall without luke noticing and drew painting katie’s nails in the bottom bunk they shared - all the other bunks full - and katie and drew lying lazily on the beach and trading flavoured chapstick and hoarding the smelly markers during arts and crafts. it ended with drew and katie both being claimed after they helped the cabin win capture the flag. then katie left to go home and when she came back the next summer they were in different cabins.

  different cabins mean more when you’re eleven and ten. at sixteen and fifteen they don’t mean much at all. drew’s closest with her half siblings, but she’s friends with malcolm from athena and sits at the campfire with lou ellen and butch who’re claimed but both still stuck in eleven with no place else to go. She still isn’t friends with katie from though, what she wants is more. 

  there’s war coming. drew can want more as long as she lives, but she only has two months guaranteed left. she does her hours in the field at the same time as katie and she does a free block in the stables when katie does, even though she’s never liked the pegasi much, and she just so happens to make it to the scarce few parties in the woods (far fewer than any other year, there are less campers to go and less energy to bring to them) that she knows katie is going to. 

  and then, finally, she gets a chance. the stolls get called away with percy jackson on one of the little skirmishes that are popping up too often for anyone's comfort and that leaves the camp store unmanned for a day. they signed katie up to do it for them without asking and she’s angrily packaging berries in baskets when drew goes for it. she’s closing the baskets wrong - though she’s normally perfect at it - so drew plucks the basket she’s holding out of her hands and closes it properly, her perfectly manicured nails clicking the lid into place, before reaching out to pause katie’s trembling hands. 

  katie’s endlessly pretty when she’s mad. drew understands why travis always tries to mess with her, as she has katie’s eyes on her. “hey,” she says. the word comes out round and pink and drew’s heart races - her charmspeak isn’t what she needs now so she pushes it down her throat. “i heard the stolls stuck you with their camp store shifts, do you want a hand?”

  she hasn’t been this nervous since she was nine and had katie’s arms around her while they watched the end of summer fireworks. drew’s never liked to look vulnerable so she hasn’t let herself be since before she lived in cabin ten with half siblings she could never quite trust. 

  the look in katie’s eyes shifts and the tenseness that was taught in her skin relaxes and she smiles, “sure, drew. i’m in tomorrow at two pm - don’t be late.” the last bit comes out a little teasing and drew smirks back. 

  “i’d never dare be late to meet you, i’ll see you then,” she winks, carefully, and then she slips past and around katie, her heart still racing but her face carefully composed, as she heads to her cabin. she sneaks a look back over her shoulder to see katie watching her go and she turns back quickly to hide her blush. tomorrow at two pm. she won’t be late. 

  instead, she’s early. silena had asked her where she was going and lacy and val had watched her get ready from one of the top bunks, but she hadn’t let anyone slow her down. she’d fussed earlier in the morning but she didn’t let any of it show as she left her cabin to meet katie. lou ellen had the shift before katie and she rose an eyebrow at drew as drew took her place, but she didn’t say anything. that’s why drew liked lou ellen so much, she’d wait to bother drew later. 

  katie arrives at two pm on the dot and giggles when she sees drew is early. “i knew you wouldn’t be late, but i didn’t think you’d beat me here.”

  “i didn’t want to miss any time with you,” drew says with a shrug. the words themselves are soft, but she makes sure she says them with an edge. she’s taking a chance, but she isn’t ready to soften all her sharp bits yet. 

  katie wanders through the aisles, still giggling. “okay, sure drew. i’m just gonna make sure everything’s stocked up in the aisles and then we can just hang out.”

  drew nods when katie looks to check for her reaction, and doesn’t let it show that it maybe kinda hurts that katie doesn’t believe her. katie doesn’t have any reason to think she was being honest - drew’s always had a bite to her and if katie likes her back like drew thinks she might, then hopefully they’ll have time to learn when the other is telling the truth in the time they have left. drew tidies up the till in the meantime. she’s never liked things messy, beauty and love can be messy all they like but the aphrodite cabin has always gotten perfect on cabin inspections for a reason. 

  finally, katie walks back around to where drew is. katie hops onto the counter and grins down at her and drew finds herself playing with her bangles. “so,” katie says, her legs swinging on the other side of the counter. “what made you want to join me here today? i know you don’t typically take shifts here.”

  yesterday when drew got back to cabin ten after talking to katie in the strawberry fields silena had been talking about how she and beckendorf got together. silena’s told drew the story multiple times, but it’s a nice story. it’s a good love story. 

  “okay, okay, shut up everyone!” silena says, half laughing in her bunk, pillow clutched to her chest. the cabin all quiets down. every single one of drew’s half siblings know to pay attention to a love story. 

  “okay,” silena says again, catching her breath. “i’d maybe kinda saved charlie from giant ants-” at this, drew and all of her siblings shriek, they can’t help it, it’s family pride.

  “omg shut up!!” silena says, sitting up. “do you want to hear the story or not?”

  “oh you know you love it, just keep going!” mitch calls from the bunk under silena’s. silena throws her pillow at his face and he laughs, but silena finally gets back to it. 

  “okay! okay, so everyone had known he had this massive crush on me for years and i thought it was kinda cute i guess - but he didn’t do anything about it! and you can like a guy forever, but if he never does anything nothing’s gonna happen. it was capture the flag and we were running out of summers together so i was maybe flirting-” wolf whistles interrupt her, but silena shushes them all. “anyways! it was capture the flag and annabeth and i captured percy - but then he pointed out that charlie had been kidnapped by the myrmekes and i was so scared - though don’t tell anyone i was scared! - but i got it together and the three of us not only put together the giant bronze dragon in the woods we also freed charlie from the ant hill he almost died in and then! we destroyed charlie and percy.”

  “um,” lacy says. “what about him asking you out?”

  “oh yeah,” silena looks at her nails. “hm.” drew throws her pillow at silena and silena laughs. “okay! okay, so we got back from saving charlie and charlie had just jumped on the dragon to turn it off and it was like. super brave and very hot, you know? anyways after turning off a dragon i guess he figured out how to be brave enough to ask me out so he asked me to the fireworks - and i said yes thank you very much! i told him i’d been waiting for him to ask me the whooole time-”

  “get it!!” cam calls. 

  silena laughs, “yeah so i tell him that, and then i kiss his cheek - just his cheek we hadn’t even gone on a date yet! but i kiss his cheek and charlie reaches for my hand, and after i kicked his ass in capture the flag we snuck out that night to go stargazing and - no more yelling okay it’s late!! and we made out by the waterfall - no yelling i said - but the best part wasn’t even that. it was when he lead me to the waterfall and told me he didn’t know how long we were going to have together but he wanted every minute with me, because he said i was worth every minute and he wanted as long as possible to learn what love was with me. and well, now we know!”

  drew’s siblings shriek and laugh at that, even though it’s late and silena just told them not too. drew lets herself relax back into her bunk after she steals silena’s pillow from mitch - they always end up trading pillows like this at night when they tell love stories - and she thinks of tomorrow. she’s never had the love silena has. And yeah, silena should’ve dumped beckendorf and broken his heart like they were taught by their long gone older siblings. but, if silena can get happy ever after with her first love… drew can’t see why the same can’t be true for her. she doesn’t have much time left, so she wants as much of it as she can get. 

  “katie,” drew starts. her voice is shaking so she pinches her wrist and starts again, katie’s listening with a smile, it’s just as soft as the day drew met her. “katie i like spending time with you. that’s why i’ve been hanging around the strawberry fields recently, too.”

  “i like spending time with you too, drew.” katie says. katie reaches out and places a hand on drew’s wrist. drew’s eyes watch as katie’s chipped green nail polish glimmers against her bangles. katie’s fingers separate the bracelets one bye one and drew’s breath catches.

  drew breathes, slowly, “katie. katie i should tell you something.”

  katie looks up into drew’s eyes, face warm and drew screws up her courage and okay this is the most nervous she’s ever been. yesterday isn’t even close. “katie i like you. you’re cute and you’re sweet, and i think we could be something special.”

  drew bites at her strawberry flavoured lip and titls her head at katie. she’s - hopeful. and then katie looks away. katie’s legs have stopped swinging, coming to a standstill that drew has never seen katie ever have. and then katie pulls her hand away from drew’s wrist and drew wants to cry. 

 “drew i. drew i’m sorry but, i just.” katie looks back at drew and drew knows katie’s sorry but it doesn’t help. Katie keeps talking, but the words wash over her and she shifts her dumb hopeful smile into a smirk. that’s stronger. she nods at the right things and waves it off. 

 “don’t worry about it,” drew says and she lets her voice turn sugary with charm. “it’s chill katie. anyways, i’m gonna go. byeee.” and then she walks around the counter and as she leaves she doesn’t look back.

  the war is coming. it makes sense. to her it meant a last chance, to katie it means there’s no point in worrying about love. (to say that to a daughter of the love goddess - drew knows that that, at least, katie didn’t realize)

  it’s drew’s first heartbreak. seeing silena after beckendorf is her second. her third is when she sees her sister's face, melted and scarred and unrecognizable and - still painfully beautiful. the fourth is when she finds the charm around silena’s wrist as she burns her shroud and learns silena was a traitor. the war comes and goes and drew’s heart broke and broke and broke and she learns her stupid lesson. 

  after that, drew closes the door to her heart and she closes it on her siblings as well. silena didn’t want to break beckendorf’s heart, but she was a traitor. she would’ve traded cabin ten for kronos’s army - even if it wasn’t where she was in the end at some point she would’ve. drew turns the cabin sharp. she doesn’t think about first loves and she doesn’t think about telling her siblings the shape her love takes - instead she spends her rite of passage with a boy from nike who made fun of her when they were younger and she smiles when she breaks his heart. she doesn’t think about katie gardner. 

  (no, thats a lie. she thinks about katie gardner way too much. she’s different, everyone is, and even as drew lets herself harden she can’t help but watch as katie kisses travis at the fireworks. katie gardner breaks her heart again when she kisses travis and drew looks away and turns to malcolm to make fun of one of the new hermes kids.)

-

chapter two

  the war is over. drew barely believes it. the first war made drew close her heart. it and everything it caused made drew meaner than she thought she could be. the war is over. But it doesn’t feel any different. when piper mclean swings into camp and goes on that dumb quest drew bites her lip and she sharpens her words even more than before and she’s just so fucking angry all of the time and the war is over but another one is right there and-

  (she spotted katie and travis kissing at the campfire jason was claimed at but she just made a mess of herself and she’s so fucking tired of that. she’s so tired of not being right)

  piper mclean comes back from her quest and everyone knows there’s a second war on it’s way. the first war is something drew tries to forget. she lost friends to it. she lost her family. The war is over. their lives were supposed to reach some level of normal. the fates don’t seem to give a shit, they seem to want everyone to live through it again. the first war was a nightmare but it’s over. drew wants anything but another war. except - the second war is giving her another sister. piper is the first new aphrodite camper that wasn’t already in camp since before the titan war. 

  piper takes the cabin counsellor role and drew lets her have it. the war is over. does that matter when there’s another one? but - the second war isn’t like the first. the titan war was her siblings crowding in their cabin together, holding onto everyone and hoping they wouldn’t lose anyone. it was learning her big sister was a traitor the entire time. it was. it was full of death. the second war isn’t free from loss, but instead of taking everything it gives them a sister camp. drew does her hours in the combat arena for the first time ever and she lets her new half brother michael teach her how to use a sword and she only puts up a little fight. at camp jupiter they live together into old age. the only demigods drew knows that lived to old age have dispersed through the world, available to call once or twice, but drew will never get a city with them. stupid annabeth chase wants a city, drew can see it, but it will be for the campers now. not the ones who left because there was no other life for them. the war is over. drew doesn’t know what that means. 

 for piper mclean little ms movie star, it means her best friend is dead. piper needs her to soften her words and drew does. she tells lacy to start sharing love stories at night when piper starts shaking and drew remembers what it’s like to spend her nights laughing with her half siblings again. the war is over. drew stops waiting to see what it means and decides that herself. she does butch’s toes in the rainbow pattern he likes and runs jewellrey making sessions in the arts and crafts center and she even participates in capture the flag for the first time since before the last war. she doesn’t open her heart up but she relearns her mother's domain. and she practices her charmspeak because piper might be her sister and she might be hurting, but drew’s not going to make everything easy for her. it’s not worth it if it is. 

  the last few weeks of summer are spent like that. drew enters junior year and ignored bratty sadie kane who thinks she’s special now that she’s a sophomore. she takes the lead in all the drama productions that are school wide and even bothers to help lacy learn how the lights work when she signs up so she can hang out with sadie. It’s...fun. the war is over. drew is still learning what it means to know she’s going to survive. 

  drew’s a daughter of aphrodite, but more importantly she’s the oldest camper and the longest serving camper in cabin ten. she’s seen her half siblings leave camp and never come home. she knows where they went, though, when they left the strawberry fields and canoe lake in the dust. 

  “where are you going?” drew asks. she’s twelve and her head counsellor is leaving with no plans to come back. arabella sighs as she packs her bags and turns back to look at drew, slumping onto her bunk as she meets drew’s eyes. 

  “drew, baby, i’m too old for camp now,” she says it sweetly, not quite the way drew’s charmspeak sounds, but close. “i’m gonna be a star, drew. another one of our siblings got me a spot on a new show and i’m gonna be on it. remember camilla, the head counsellor from last year? she’s in europe now doing fashion shows. mom might not visit us, but she did give us something special. when we have the drive we can be the biggest stars in the sky.”

  drew nods, carefully, and then she holds out her little address book she bought from the camp store. if arabella is going to be a star, drew is going to have her contact information. she tells arabella that and her sister laughs and fills in her information with no hesitation. “drew, i’ll do you one better. i’ll give you all of the contacts of our siblings that i have too. when you’re ready for the spotlight reach out to any of us and we’ll get you what you need.”

  the smile on arabella’s face grows as she signs the bottom with a signature that is clearly well practiced and fitting for a star. drew takes the book back and holds it close to her chest. over the next few years as siblings leave, drew carefully writes down their information. later, she adds it to her laptop and phone and backs them up as many times as she can think.

  she has siblings on magazine covers, broadway stages, oscar winning movie posters. and drew has their numbers programmed on her phone. drew never knew what her calling was, now she thinks she has an idea. before she boards the bus to go back home with lacy she calls up arabella and she promises her an agent when she gets back from camp. the war is over. she can set her roots down anywhere and….she can leave camp without being a traitor. 

  when she and lacy get in a shoving match as they walk past thalia’s tree drew doesn’t dig her nails in to lacy’s arm to get her to stop. instead, drew pops a stick of bubblegum into her mouth and offers one to lacy. this could be her last summer at camp. part of her wants her siblings to ask her for her contact information before she leaves like she did for all of the cabin ten campers before her that made it out alive. lacy takes it, examines it carefully, and shoves it in her mouth. 

  then, drew pauses. “wait a minute. hon, didn’t you have braces?”

  lacy nods, and then she curls her lips up as she smirks at drew, displaying perfectly aligned brace free teeth. “i got them off three weeks ago!”

  “hm,” drew says. “they look half decent. fix the pigtails and i’ll maybe let you borrow something from my closet.” she keeps walking as she says that, chewing her gum. it’s strange looking at camp and not recognizing most of the faces. new campers arrive every summer and fewer leave. she turns to ask lacy if she knows who the group clustered around the big house porch are -

  lacy is still back where she was when drew gave her the gum. drew raises an eyebrow and lacy stumbles forward, looking a little lost. drew grabs her arm and steers her towards cabin ten. lacy snaps out of her haze after a bit and manages to get into the cabin by herself. drew rolls her eyes and claims her bunk. she finds a few papers waiting on the table the typically stick shared accessories on and picks it up. It’s a bunch of head counsellor information and drew skips over most of it up to - assignments for older campers. drew still has to do some activities with her cabin but she’s outgrown some of the others, in the space where she used to have monster 101 and ancient greek and the like, she now has hours supervising and running events at the arts and crafts centre and - drew drops the papers and turns back to her bunk. 

 she’s almost completely settled in when piper walks in, leading a new boy with valentina and mitch. the four of them claim their bunks, there’s only one bunk left. drew’s eyes stay on the bunk. cam’s bags are left unpacked on their bed, lacy is in the bathroom, the new boy is being shown the ropes by val and piper, mitch is a year rounder...sometimes bunks are empty. 

  the war is over. silena’s bunk is still empty. drew closes her eyes. 

  “drew?” there’s a new girl sitting on the top bunk by the closet. drew memorized every single one of her siblings' names and faces at the end of last summer after her claiming before they all went back home for school, so she knows this girl is new. she’s wearing a headscarf with a pretty flower pattern and her eyes are a glittery pink. and she looks like she’s the same age as drew. there hadn’t been any summer campers her age last year in cabin ten. 

  “yeah,” drew says. she doesn’t say anything else. the new girl doesn’t seem to mind. 

  “i’m silena beauregard,” she says smiling. “we’re sisters i guess. it’s nice to meet you, i don’t have any siblings outside of camp.”

  drew eyes her carefully. and then she walks over to silena’s bunk and climbs up the ladder. she reaches out and shakes silena’s hands and carefully examines silena’s nail polish, now that she’s up close. “me neither,” drew says. “i like your nail polish.”

  silena’s smile gets even bigger and her back straightens up, “i brought it with me! can i do your nails?”

  drew shrugs, but she’s smiling too, “sure.”

  drew walks over to silena’s bunk and lifts her hand to brush against the wooden rail that kept silena from rolling off onto the ground for years. 

  “drew!” piper’s voice calls. drew turns over to see piper holding the papers up. all of drew’s siblings are back at the cabin now drew drops her hand from the rail. “you have most of your shifts in the arts and crafts centre, but you also have a few in the strawberry fields. cool? cool. okay mitch you’re-”

  “strawberry fields?” lacy asks, popping her head out of the bathroom to eye drew carefully. “piper are you sure about that one? drew doesn’t work in the strawberry fields.”

  cam coughs awkwardly, “she did. once. with katie gardner.”

  “uh,” piper says. “okay, well it says here you have your first shift with katie so i guess it’ll be fine. it’s thursday at two by the way, so you have a few days to fight chiron or whoever on it. um, anyways, mitch you’re on lifeguard duty during canoe lessons - that’s pretty cool mitch, i didn’t know you were a lifeguard.”

  her first shift is with katie gardner. she knew that already of course. she had just hoped she read it wrong. drew decides to ignore it until it’s thursday. 

  on tuesday, her friends decided to crash her arts and crafts lesson. she has the nike and nemesis cabins so it’s really just turned into a race. drew maybe made it worse when she said whoever had the best earrings would win a prize. drew hasn’t decided what the prize is yet. butch starts making a pair next to her while lou ellen sabotages the kids she thinks are doing too well. malcolm asks her how she’s doing. 

  “i’m fine,” drew says. “i’m scheduled for the strawberry fields with katie gardner on thursday.”

  malcolm hums at that, “you know, when i was trying to get connor to ask me out last week - shh i know he’s in love with your brother shut up - anyways he told me his brother and katie are over.”

  drew doesn’t say anything to that. she just reaches over and straightens the wire on butch’s earrings he grins at her and bumps into her shoulder and she shoves him back into his seat. it’s been a while since her sister was the only one who knew she liked girls. 

  “anyways,” malcolm says. “is your brother going to ask connor out or not? connor’s so mopey over travis being gone, mitch will have to make the first move.”

  drew rolls her eyes, “i don’t pay attention to my siblings love lives. anyways, i’m thinking about not coming back next summer.”

  butch blinks at her, “what?” then he throws a piece of clay at lou ellen to get her to pay attention. “lou ellen, drew says she’s not coming back next summer.”

  lou ellen mirrors butch’s blink. “drew, what the fuck?”

  “well,” drew says, playing with the clay in front of her as she avoids her friends eyes. “one of my older siblings is getting me an agent, but she told me they film mostly during the summer. and it would be my last summer anyways.”

  “an agent?” lou ellen says, her voice quieter. “that’s a big deal.”

  “i know,” drew says. malcolm looks like he’s about to tell her why an agent is stupid and not coming back to camp is stupid and why she should just listen to the athena kid, when a tiny daughter of nemesis drops a perfectly made pair of clay earrings in the shap of bloody knives in front of drew. 

  “well,” she says standing up. “we have a winner!” the rest of the kids start shouting, but drew just holds up the earrings and they quiet down. no one really wants to fight with a child of nemesis who won fair and square (more or less, considering lou ellen’s interference) with knife shaped jewelry. 

  when drew sits back down the kid has her arms crossed and a glint in her eyes, “i want my prize.”

  drew shrugs, “what do you want that i can give?”

  the kid lights up. “i want an aphrodite makeover.” 

  “well,” drew says, beaming next to her friends who have started to crack up, “i cant happily arrange that.”

  her friends have to filter out after that, but butch catches drew’s arm as he leaves and he looks her in the eye, “we’re still your friends, even if you don’t come back next summer. you know that, right?”

  drew rolls her eyes at him, but it’s fond. “yes i know, you’ll get dibs on my autographs and everything.” butch smiles at her as he leaves and he dangles his new earrings in her face as malcolm doubles back to pull him to their next activity. 

  after that, drew manages to push the thought of her upcoming unavoidable time with katie to the back of her mind. 

  when the day finally comes, she pulls cam and julian over to her stuff in the closet after they get their hours and she makes them pick between her altered camp shirts for her. there’s the one she ripped the sleeves off of, the one she cropped, the one she made into an off the shoulder, the one she fringed the edges of, and the one she dyed and embroidered a heart onto. 

  cam sighs at her as she fusses, “what are you trying to do here? drew you know she had that thing with travis for like, ever.” julian elbows cam for that and tells drew to go with the cropped one. drew smiles at him, only mostly fake and then she turns to cam.

  “why would i care that katie was making out with travis for the past two summers?” drew asks, her words sugary, her charmspeak slipping out gently. 

  “because you’re still kinda into her,” cam says. julian elbows cam harder this time. drew blinks at them both and the two of them shrug at her. 

  “well,” julian says. “cam didn’t have to be a dick, but yeah. we know you used to like her. you wouldn’t spend so much time in a field for anyone.”

  “oh,” drew says. drew had thought this whole time that silena was the only one of her siblings who knew she liked girls. julian seems to realize what she’s thinking, because he slings an arm around her shoulder and squeezes as he directs her towards the bathroom so she can do her makeup. cam trails behind them, but is quiet enough so drew doesn’t say anything. 

  “now i don’t know if you actually want to win her over or whatever, but i do that eyeliner thing for you that i did when i got cecil to ask me out,” julian smiles at her as the two of them stare at the bathroom mirror and drew smiles back, sharper and small, but she smiles back. she’d heard rumours from lou ellen about him and cecil but she’d never asked. 

  drew looks at the carefully colour coded makeup products displayed in the bathroom year round and picks out her favourite pink pencil, “i don’t know if i want to win her over. but i want her to see me at my best.”

  julian squeezes her shoulders and turns her around and does her eyeliner perfectly. when he’s finished cam passes her her strawberry shaped earrings and drew smiles at them both, softer than she normally does when they can see. 

  and then drew walks over to the strawberry fields for the first time since before the war. her pink eyeliner is perfect and her camp shirt is cropped to wear her high waisted denim shorts reach and her strawberry shaped earrings swing in the air. katie is at the edge of the bushes holding two wicker baskets in her arms. she’s wearing a flower crown in her hair and drew’s breath totally doesn’t catch. 

  she takes her basket from katie and they start walking through the bushes. they aren’t the only two in the fields, but they seem to be the only demigods. the others are nymphs and satyrs. drew reaches for a malformed strawberry. when she touches it it shimmers lightly, she plucks it and pulls it up to her eye. it’s in the shape of a heart. 

  drew swallows and puts it in her basket and turns to look at katie. katie’s busy plucking strawberries. drew blinks and turns back to the bushes, she must’ve been seeing things. except, it keeps happening. drew almost confronts katie, and then she realizes that she’s just going to stop getting the heart shaped strawberries if she says anything. it’s probably just their godly inclinations getting confused. 

  after the eleventh heart shaped strawberry they start to get bigger. when drew picks a heart shaped strawberry the size of her hand she stops brushing it off and she puts down her basket. 

  “katie gardner, what the fuck is this?” 

  katie stands up slowly and puts her basket down on the ground. “well,” katie says. “um.”

  drew shoves the strawberry at katie and katie plucks it out of drew’s hands, “wait! wait, wait um.”

  “are you trying to make fun of me? this isn’t funny katie gardner.” drew’s face is flushed and her fingers have curled into fists. she could put up with spending time with the girl she was halfway in love with once, but she’s not going to put up with her mocking her. 

  “no!” katie says, and katie’s face is so open and sorry that drew even believes her a bit. drew lets her hands relax by her side and she gestures at katie to keep talking. “well,” katie says. “i heard you were thinking about not coming back next summer.”

  drew raises an eyebrow at her, “and?” she doesn’t know where katie’s heard that from, but she’s suspecting some convoluted train of malcolm and lou ellen and cecil and connor. 

  “okay, um. okay. we’ve. well we’ve known each other forever, since we were little, and at first i thought i was just upset because if you were thinking about leaving it meant our time was running out. and then i started thinking about our time running out and - and i remember what you said back a few months ago before the titan war,” katie takes a deep breath and drew sees she’s fiddling with a bracelet on her wrist. and. drew recognizes it. she has a matching one underneath her bunk pillow from their first summer at camp together that katie and her made for each other. katie clears her throat and continues, “and at the time - at the time i was dumb. i didn’t even know if i liked girls but i thought if i liked any girl i would like you, but i was so worried about the war and one of my little brothers had just gone to the other side and i didn’t want to lose anyone too close. and then i thought you might ask again after the war, but you didn’t.”

  “i thought you didn’t like me at all,” drew says, quieter than she means to. 

  katie laughs a little, but it wavers and drew freezes as she realizes katie has started to cry a bit, “that makes perfect sense. ha. but, i didn’t know because i was dumb. and then travis was being sweet to me all day and he asked to kiss me and i saw yes because i just really wanted to be held. and everything with travis was so good, and i’m not sorry about it really, because i liked him a lot and i don’t regret being with him but. but we broke up when he went to university and i’m going in september, so we both knew it was coming to an end. but, but i never saw you anymore. and i’d missed you so much in the time between the summer when we were little and the months before the war and then you were gone again and. and then i heard you were leaving and i knew i had to do something and i saw you today with your perfect eyeliner and your really cute earrings and-”

 katie cuts herself off, blushing and crying a bit and drew reaches out. she’s not used to reaching out and she’s not sure she can be as soft as she needs to be, but she catches one of katies hands and squeezes it. “yeah?” drew asks. 

  “and. and i saw you in that crop top and i wanted to scream a bit,” katie admits. “i really, really like you drew. and i know you probably don’t like me back, but i had to try-”

  “wait,” drew says. “of course i like you back.” because of course she does. katie broke her heart, but drew would rather katie break her heart than let anyone else close to touching it in the same way. katie with her heart shaped strawberry plan and beautiful brown eyes and soft sweet smiles. 

  “oh,” katie says. “really? because you’re drew tanaka and you’re kinda the most beautiful girl ever. and you were the best friend i used to dream of when i was a kid that summer.”

  drew links her fingers with katie’s and steps close, “your nail polish is still chipped.”

  “sorry?” katie says, a little confused. 

  “nothing, ignore that,” drew bites her lip and tastes strawberry. “katie, will you go out with me?”

  and then katie smiles the soft smile she’s had since they were little that drew’s been in love with for years and nods, “yeah. i’d like that a lot.”

  “cool,” drew says. and she smiles back with the smile she’s only let katie have. katie steps closer to her, and with her free hand she presses her thumb up against drew’s mouth. drew hopes that katie can’t hear her heartbeat race, and then katie meets her eyes right on. 

  “drew,” katie asks. “can i kiss you?”

  drew answers by taking katie’s other hand and leaning in. their lips meet, and drew tries to memorize the softness of katie’s lips against hers. 

  when they seperate katie giggles, “i always thought your lips would taste like strawberries. guess i was right.”

  later, drew and katie will talk about their plans and the schools and programs they’re planning for and they’ll get to know each others friends and each others siblings. katie’s lips will taste like strawberries because she’ll steal drew’s lipgloss and they’ll make out in all the spots they frequented as kids. 

  now, drew laughs with katie and kisses her again, and again and again until all she can taste is strawberries. the war is long gone, and their future is starting. 

[thatfairyfangirl]

Certain Point Of View Chapter 8

As the snow sat wet and heavy in the streets, your beautiful god aided you out of the cab, handling you slow and gentle as he helped you maneuver the car door with your arm immobilized by the sling. "Thank you Loki, but I can manage." You insisted stubbornly, shying away from letting him touch you for too long. But he understood, it wasn't him you were afraid of, it was the world, everyone was a threat to you now, even those who were there to help.

"I'm sure you can." His words were soft and smooth as he opened the door to your building, holding it for you. "But with the midgard serpent still laying dormant and him being the sole reason I am on earth I find myself needing something to do." He added with a smirk. "And you look like you could use a cup of coffee."

He was right. With winter winds whipping at your hair, all you wanted was to settle under a blanket with a book and a mug of something warm. "Actually, some coco sounds wonderful." You admitted, pushing your hair out of your face, unsure if you were ready to open yourself up fully, but wanting to at the very least be near your savior. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered if this winter was so unrelenting because of him, the frost giant runt taking residence in Midgard. But such a thought you couldn't help finding silly. You shuffled through the halls to where your broken and splintered door should be, finding it had already been replaced. 

Your eyes drifted up to Loki questioningly but all he could do was shrug. But inside you could both hear motion that made your heart race with panic as you shrunk into Loki's protective embrace. "Alright Thor, I'm just about done over here." Clint's voice echoed from the other side, making you let out a sigh of relief. "Can you pick up some paint while you're out?"

The large blond asgardian flung the door open, showing you inside. He and Hawkeye had taken it upon themselves to fix all the things Kyle's rage had broken, as if purging the poison from the wounds of your life his actions caused. "Oh," Thor smiled down to you with glee and joy, "you're back before we thought." Behind him you could see Clint laying drywall to repair the dent your shoulder flying into the wall had made, a splotch of white against the previously sunny yellow wall.

"We were hoping to be out of your hair by now," Clint explained, "just came by to fix the door, but then I noticed the wall, and the crack in the sink…" the list went on but the words just washed over you as emotions of all forms overloaded your senses, bringing tears to your eyes.

"Thank you." You whispered lightly as you let Loki usher you into your newly repaired home, careful of your dislocated arm. You sunk into your sofa, letting the soft cushions and plush throw envelope you in a cocoon of warmth as your heros maneuvered around you. You wished you could help, that you weren't so useless, letting yourself get lost in the thoughts of how pathetic you must be that you needed the avengers to save you from the terrors of everyday life. Loki frowned as he watched you wallowing, wishing he could understand why. You could hear him rusting around in your kitchen, preparing you the coco he had promised, before sitting by your side. A hint of a smile grew on your lips as the heat of the mug mixed with the chill of his skin hovering so near you, but not daring to touch for fear of spooking you again. You could feel your heart flutter with a taste of joy and hope as his long cool arm draped over the back of your sofa, waiting for any of your needs to fulfil, making you his newest mission in his redemption. His eyes lingered over you as you attempted to juggle the mug and reach for a book with only the one functional hand. He leaned forward, slowly picking up the book and opening it to the page marker to read it for you, letting you enjoy your tea. "You don't have to do that. I can read." You muttered as you slunk away, so used to you voicing your opinion being met with violence.

"I'm sorry," he offered, making your heart stop at how soft he was being to you. "I just thought you would want to enjoy your drink." Again, he was right, you did, but you also needed to prove to yourself you weren't helpless, that you were stronger than this. You set the mug on the arm of the sofa as you nestled the book in your lap before taking the mug again. It was small, just a book, but in being able to do this little thing you began to feel better about yourself. Neither of you noticed when the others left, however, as you fixed both of them some diner, insisting to your godly guest that you could do it yourself, the smile slowly returned to your lips and so did Loki's, simply happy in your growing happiness and strength.

As the moon glowed through the open curtain, the frigid air of winter trying it's best to sneak in through the glass, Loki couldn't help smiling down to you, realizing you were half asleep, nestling yourself against his chest. "Should I go?" He whispered softly, his breath chilling your ear.

"Please don't?" You answered softly, feeling a glorious inner contentment in the way his fingers stroked through your hair.

"You're afraid of that oaf coming back, aren't you?" You nodded, but deep down you knew it was more than that, you loved the way his existence comforted you, took the pain away.

~ ~ ~ ~ 

Deep in the night, somewhere just before the sun began to peek over the city, the sound of dishes clinking and the whisper of obscenities snapped Loki from his slumber on your sofa. He leapt up producing his blades, before frigid eyes fell on you. You froze, clinging yourself, with a timid "I’m sorry."

His eyes softened with a subtle warmth as he realized it was only you that woke him. "No," he whispered lightly, "I'm sorry." He assured you as he set the daggers down slowly. "What are you doing up?" He asked as he came to help you retrieve the cup you had been hunting for. 

"I had a bad dream." You admitted, while you, with slow, labored movements, began to fix an herbal blend to calm your nerves. Loki stood back, watching for a moment, as you fumbled with one of your many tea tins and the kettle.

He could see in your eyes that you were feeling weak, the long day of forcing your strength straining you. The pain in your eyes as you attempted to move the healing arm broke his heart before stepping forward, gently placing arms around you. "Here, let me help." He offered smoothly, lighting your world in a heavenly glow with his voice as he supported your movements. You could feel his heart beating wild and strong in his chest against your back as you both prepared the drink, finding the warmth of your skin and smell of your hair so exhilarating, making him want to be better just for you. 

You sunk in to his arms, resting your head on his chest, welcoming the chill of his skin against yours as if it were an old friend. His arms wrapped around you in a gentle embrace. He wished for once he knew what to say, that he had a heart as pure as his brother's to soothe you. But for you him just being there, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, was enough to chase all the monsters away.

Tag List:

@starvinggaywriter​

@sardonicsleeper​

[ragwitch]

Soooo. Now I'm back with a prompt, because you deserve all the good things in life and I'll make it one step closer to a full prompt list! Because I saw that you were hoping that you'd get enough! Well here's one more! Darcy/Bucky soulmate au (where you only see in black and white before you meet your match). Ps. Never done a prompt before so idk if that is too specific or not specific enough but I like your writing style enough to let you take whatever liberties. I'm just here for the meetcute

I have A LOT of feelings about this kind of soulmate verse!!! This is more than I meant to write, and probably a lot of extra stuff that you didn’t need outside of your meetcute, haha! But I definitely want to play with this again, so thank you so much for the prompt! I really hope you like it.

Pairing: Darcy Lewis/James Bucky Barnes

Rating: T

When Darcy Lewis was sixteen, she did not believe in soulmates. Her parents weren’t soulmates and they were the happiest couple she had ever met. None of her friends had soulmates and they were falling in love left and right. Soulmates, the Hues, were fairy tales and the people who claimed to have them, see them, were stuck up liars.

She had Values, and the sharp brightness of the sun or the glitter over water, or the deep absorbing darkness of a shadow at night were just as beautiful as any color a Hue could claim to see.

_

At twenty, in the desert, after electrocuting a man to the ground, Darcy Lewis stood next to Jane Foster.

“The night,” Jane whispered, staring up to the sky with sudden tears rolling down her cheeks. “The night has hues. Oh my god.”

If Jane Foster, the most practical, scientific, no-bullshit person Darcy had ever met, could see hues then they must be real.

At twenty, Darcy Lewis believed in soulmates.

After the Destroyer had been destroyed and Thor had vanished, Jane drove them both to Las Vegas to the nearest pigmented shopping district. Jane bought a can of Night Without Light paint (Value #5279832 and nearly black to Darcy’s eyes) and Darcy bought a gallon of Kernels paint (Value #1854) to paint her room in.

“That’s…a little obnoxious,” Jane said, wincing at the hue card in Darcy’s hand.

“Perfect,” Darcy said with a shrug.

They bought patternless clothing, dresses and shirts and pants all in one value, one hue. Darcy picked everything based off it’s name. Cockatrice, Envy, Electrical Storm, Life Blood, Bitter. Jane bought Deep Lake and New Growth and Dirt.

“People will think you’re Hued,” Jane whispered into Darcy’s ear in the dressing room.

“Perfect,” Darcy said with a shrug.

There was a department of hues for the body, eye powders and lips stains and nail varnishes. Jane wrinkled her nose at it all. Darcy bought one thing, a lipstick called Kiss Me.

“They look silly,” Jane said on the way home after stopping at a gas station. “I never knew how silly everyone looked, dressed in values. Spreading them on their faces. They don’t match. It’s all…splotchy.”

Darcy stopped wearing any makeup but the hued lipstick and her Value #9999999 eyeliner and mascara.

“The world doesn’t match,” Jane told her, out in the desert while she stared up at the sky. Darcy wondered if she was still looking for Thor, or if it was the hue of the stars and the dark sky that she was in love with now. “They tell you everything will be in hues, when it happens. But the world is designed for Values, we’ve built over all the colors.”

The next day Darcy wore her shirt the hue of Envy because she burned with it.

_

When Darcy was twenty-four she believed in soulmates, she believed in Hues, and believed she would never meet hers, would never match Jane’s descriptions of grass and sky and skin to their actual tones.

“But you’re so young,” Thor told her as Jane napped, upright at her desk.

“Only eight percent of the world sees hues,” Darcy said, scribbling with pigmented markers into a blank notebook. Orchid and Cerulean were nearly the same value, a reminder that her world was incomplete, missing information.

“And how much of the world is your age or younger?” Thor asked. “There is no age-limit on meeting your soulmate.”

“I don’t have five thousand years to wait, Thor,” Darcy said, raising her eyebrow.

Thor smiled. “You believe I am Jane’s soulmate.”

Darcy stared at him. “Of course you are.” He had landed and Jane’s world was in color. Those were the rules.

“Perhaps,” Thor said with a shrug. “I would like that to be so. We have always lived in color on Asgard, and we have the notion of a soulmate but no proof of it like Midgardians. Do you know what I think?” Darcy didn’t want to know what he thought. She didn’t want Thor saying anything but that he loved Jane and Jane loved him and it was a perfect absolute that brought Hue to Jane’s life.

“What?” she asked finally, because Thor had been patient.

“I landed, and I proved Jane’s work,” Thor said, and his fingers brushed against Jane’s hand, making hers twitch and reach for him even in sleep. “Tell me my love’s heart does not belong to her work, that her soul is not entwined with the stars.”

_

Finding your life’s purpose was about as easy as finding your soulmate, as it turned out. Maybe Thor had been right about Jane. They were still in love, that much was clear. What was clearer was that Jane’s priority was understanding, perfecting, and protecting the pathways of the universe. And Thor’s priority had always needed to be Asgard. Still in love, but not at once, not in rhythm together. And Jane still saw hues.

So Darcy had a degree and after the disaster of the Accords she found her calling. Unfucking the relationship between the world and it’s heroes. She loved it. She woke up everyday ready to kick ass. She felt fulfilled and purposeful and happy and satisfied.

She stared at the world and she counted every shade, the thousands of values in the moving ocean, in the streets of cities, in the sky. Orchid and Cerulean were close but they were not the same. There were more than 999,9999 little strands of light to see in the world. It was an infinite spectrum of value and it was beautiful.

_

The world did not end. Not when it was supposed to. Not when they promised it would.

That was good too. That would make Darcy’s job a lot easier. Heroes saving the day always did.

_

She almost didn’t notice, not at first. The heroes were trailing into the tent, one after the other, and it was a gloomy day, although by all rights the sun should have made an appearance for their victory. The world was muted, values blending softly together.

It was the Black Widow’s hair she noticed first. A low value, but bright and…words she didn’t know. The Black Widow’s hair…was hued. Everything. Everything was hued. Darcy gasped, a broken rattling breath, and fell back into her seat. Her skirt on her lap was vivid, saturated, strange and violent and Bitter.

“Bucky?”

She looked back up and Captain America had The Winter Soldier by the shoulder, worry between his eyes as the man—there was so much to see, she felt dizzy with it—stared raptly back at her.

“Hues,” Bucky said.

Soulmate, she thought. And some tiny, silly voice at the back of her head thought, Not bad, Darcy.

“Well shit,” Tony said and Darcy realized they really ought to talk about how ridiculous the hues on his suit were. Even if only eight percent of the population had to see them. “Let’s give them a minute.”

One by one the others left the tent—it was in a value, the tables and chairs were all valued too, as if a part of her world hadn’t changed when it had—but with the flick of the curtain Darcy could see that the outside world was riddled with hues and it made her heart pound. Bucky Barnes hadn’t moved, only watched her warily. She stood up and nearly laughed at herself. She was wearing the most…obnoxious colors. She must have spent the last seven years of her life looking like a color-blind Hue.

He was dressed in values but the hues of the room, the hues of her, of his hair—rich and warm and she wanted to touch it—bounced off the polish of his metal arm.

“You’re so…” he started and then swallowed heavily, eyes growing big as if he just realized he was about to speak out loud. But he came closer until they were standing just a step or two apart. She felt like she was learning a whole new language without being given any words. She had understanding and no vocabulary.

“How does anyone do this?” Darcy asked, finding his eyes and feeling shy and urgent all at once, feeling like their sharp pale color was peeling away all her secrets. “It’s everything at once.”

“You…” he started again and Darcy watched his eyes drift down to her lips. “That’s…quite a hue.”

“Kiss Me,” she said.

Bucky blinked at her and then before she could explain, he was there, warm hand pulling her closer by her cheek and mouth slotting over hers. Darcy made a sound, half-surprised and half-excited, and then her arms were over his shoulder and he was groaning as she returned the kiss, wanting every texture and flavor of him all at once. There was Hue in this too, she thought, the warmth of a mouth was a color and the taste of a man’s breath was a color and the feeling of fitting against a body so much larger and brutally stronger than her own was a color.

They pulled apart with a gasp and Darcy grinned, seeing the electric splash of her lipstick smeared across his mouth. She lifted her thumb to wipe it gently away and he leaned into the touch.

“The hue,” she explained, smiling at him. “It’s called Kiss Me.”

A new hue spread over his cheek and Darcy touched that too.

“It’s a good name for it,” he said, the blush (she had a dress called Blush and she wondered if it would match this) fading from his cheeks as he nestled her closer against him, and Darcy’s skin blossomed at every lick of touch. “A hue like that feels like an instruction.”

“Follow it again,” she said, watching his eyes change, darken. (Value or hue, who cared now?)

“Yes ma’am,” he said, and kissed her again.

[n0resistance]

Rome

    What was interesting with where we were in Rome was that a lot of locals spoke English. Most cities are like this. We had a Counselor that said all major cities usually speak English,  and the authentic places are in the villages. She was right. I tried to speak Italian after all my lessons to our waiter, and he felt uncomfortable that I wasn't very fluent and asked me to speak English! They also get offended when you ask for extra salt, or ketchup, anything that changes the dish. They think you're insulting their food.     

    The food is amazing. Veal, rabbit, pasta, melon con prosciutto, and bruschetta. The wine is excellent. Anything sweet is excellent. I found my favorite wine was from Piedmonti called Gavi di Gavi. Which is in the North. My favorite restaurant in Campo De Fiori  is a chain! This wine and cheese bar called Obica. Which is in New York and LA. Our apartment was walking distance from the Colosseum. It was far from school. I always had to take the bus. Which was honesty policy when it came to payment. So people didn't really pay. When the cops came to check we would just jump off. That's why there were transportation strikes in Rome all the time. The honesty policy system did not work.     

    It took me forever to get to know my area where my apartment was because I always stayed with my friend who lived near Piazza Navona. Which had this amazing fountain of the four major rivers and their Gods. A Brazilian consulate, the best gelato, and our school. My friend and I would go running. One time, since we don't really have phones, and you have to pay per call, we ran to each other's houses without knowing it. I got lost and I finally got to her house and her roommate said she was running to see me. 

    We connected with people through facebook and if we set a time we would meet there. If we weren't there we would wait. It was awesome not having a phone. I had my camera, my journal, and some food vouchers. Our program was awesome because rent was paid for as well as food vouchers to restaurants and the only thing I had to worry about was travel. My dad sent me $150 a week from what I saved over the summer, and that's how I lived. 

     In Rome, I felt like I didn't really have any money, and I felt like I had too much free time. So I had journals and photos and eventually started taking videos. I set intentions. I wanted a tattoo of my mother's signature. It was a card she gave to my father "Happy 3 month anniversary" in 1985. Finding that was really special to me and I brought it with me to Italy to get the tattoo. I wanted to learn Italian, speak to people. Make friends. I decided to do a video project. For Italy, and film everything I was experiencing. 

    I focused and did really well in school. Watch Italian films and got a real Italian education, or as close as you can going to an American school in Rome. My last intention was to see all that Italy has to offer. People in my program went all over Europe. Spain, Morocco, France, and Croatia. I couldn't afford trips like that, so I backpacked every weekend with my friend from New York and my other friend from LA, and went to the beaches or villages and saw Italy.     

     My classes included Italian, Philosophy, Art History, and my favorite History of Italian Cinema. Art History was amazing because every class was at the actual site. It was included in the program so we learned about Michel Angelo and then went to the Vatican to see the Sistine Chapel. Dates were the hardest to remember. We also saw this amazing Duomo  and the art  in Orvietto. We learned about Luca Signorelli and his painting called The Last Judgement. When hell comes on earth and takes everyone who was a sinner. Basically the end of the world. It's graphic and disturbing. I carved my initials with a permanent marker at the bottom of one of the paintings. Orvietto was my favorite because it was a place I could speak to people in Italian, since people didn't know English.     

    One time we brought our friends' parents and we were famished for lunch during Siesta. All the restaurants were closed but this little old lady went inside and cooked us a meal from scratch. I had pasta fagioli, which is my absolute favorite. My friend’s parents asked for ice for their white wine, which is uncommon in Italy. She had to make it from scratch and by the time it was ready, we finished all the wine. 

    We had amazing day trips. Our trip to Napoli we saw Pompeii, Mt Vesuvius, and the Island of Capri. They make the best limoncello in Capri. You see all the people who were preserved from the volcano eruption in Pompeii. As well as the brothels there. We did a day trip on our own when everyone went to Oktober fest to Sperlonga. We rented a pedal boat with a slide. Went swimming topless. Had a freak out because we realized we left our passports and all our money at the beach and nobody was watching it. We had fresh fish. Felt like we got robbed because they didn't tell us how much the fish was until we left.     

    For our film class we had a field trip to CInecitta studios. We saw the original set for Gangs of New York. The set for this one film called Roman Empire. I loved that class. I learned a lot about fascism, neorealism, and realism, and discovered my favorite director Fellini, as well as actress Sophia Loren. Who was the first sex icon in Italy and was one of the first to make it to Hollywood. Italians impress me with the food, culture, and art.  Living there made me want to become a filmmaker. 

    My Italy video project consumed me. I would film and edit it everyday after school. I was obsessed. I wanted to include everything. My friend was so supportive of that. I was upset about this new realization because I already spent 3 years studying business, hotel management, and had this epiphany that I should be an artist. I knew I had to go home and finish my degree. I knew I needed to make money. I knew I wanted to be an artist and express myself through storytelling because most of our entertainment during dinner was my crazy stories from college or my suburban town in New Jersey. 

  So I used Italy as my outlet, I never knew when I was going to come back, or have an opportunity to not work, and be this inspired. That I just ran with it with my camera and my journal. I filmed everything. Car rides, night life, the beach, cinecitta studios,  Pompeii, and all of Rome. It was my first movie. I got terribly homesick and my friends missed me too. I especially missed my dog. He ate brownie batter and had to get his stomach pumped which was $500.00. I felt like I missed out a lot of the sorority events, I just joined. I wrote out a speech to be pledge mom and sent the video to them in a beautiful place in Rome. It was so loud because in the middle of my speech an ambulance came. My sister came to Rome. I got to show her the new life I was living and my apartment. We had aperitivo and wine. It was special to show her.    

     I became close with my roommate, and got close with the barista Luca who made my coffee every morning. I got into cappuccinos because I had to go to the coffee shop to get wifi. I would write all day. He was a ballerina. I also made friends with one of our professors. He would come out with my friend and I, he was always talking philosophy. A friend of mine from Pace was studying in Barcelona and came to Rome. We went to the Jewish area where the holocaust happened. It was pretty sad. Any piece of home was nice. We went to a soccer game and soccer is like religion in Italy. My favorite player was Totti, they call him Il Capitano. We were the only people that drank at the soccer stadium. Everything is closed for soccer. People are very focused and into the game. I got a jersey I wore all the time.

    My favorite area was Trastevere. They call it the Brooklyn of Italy. Not too busy, a lot of creatives, I even prefer the bars and food there. There was a University in New York stationed there called St. John's. When you cross the Tiber River, you end up there. Also, my area was really awesome. I didn't realize it til the end of our study abroad. Since I spent most of my time near the center. I remember hearing Vampire Weekend for the first time at a bar there. I also remember all the live music, burlesque shows, and piazzas near me were amazing.      

    Our school was sweet. They even hosted a Thanksgiving for us and celebrated Halloween, so we wouldn't feel homesick. There's a lot of Irish pubs in Rome where American students hang out. Scholars, The Abbey, The Drunken ship was where you went to turn up. We even went on a pub crawl with wrist bands. You have to stay close to your friends the entire time. Rule#1 never get in a car with strangers.

       I learned a lot about myself in Italy. I found freedom, community, and a desire to be an artist there. I found independence. I learned to cook. A lot better than I've ever cooked before. A different part of my brain would work when I spoke Italian. I developed this big dream to be in an Italian movie. The movies I watched demonstrated the hardships Italy overcame. I spent time on myself and even though I loved New York I didn't have time to breathe. Italy will always be a second home to me. I thank that experience and that calling to go there because it made me who I am.

[tiemeupspidey]

Angel

Series: Peter Parker Imagines

Relationship: Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: Peter and the Reader like each other but one another think they don’t like on another.

Warnings: Cuteness and Peter being a love sick puppy

Word Count:1,400+

A/N:Hope you all enjoy this imagine xx :)

[Reader’s POV] 

“Did you hear about the explosion that happened the other night?” Your friend Lilith asks hugging her binder to her chest. 

     Nodding your head the two of you talk about what happened as the two of you walk down the hall. A fight broke out at a bank between Spider-Man and some robbers. The weapon they used destroyed the building and the sandwich shop across the street. You were heading home that night from a graffiti session. The paint residue still on your hands from the night before.

“Spider-Man is so cool but who knows how old he really is” she rambles on and on. Your eyes looking at a head of curls pass by. Letting out a sigh when you see him enter the guys locker room.

“hellooooo” Lilith drags out waving her hand in front of your face. Blinking a couple time you give her a forced smile.  She rolls her eyes as she opens the girls locker room door. 

     Getting dressed you set your book bag inside your locker. Locking it back up you pick up your sketchbook and pencils. Walking out with a group of people you head to the stands. Sitting on the bleachers with your friends you all quiet down when the coach walks over. 

    The class watches a video of Captain America talking about working out. Before you look down you see the head of curls from before. He was leaning over whispering to his friend. Whatever he said making his friend look over at him shocked.

    After the videos are over you watch as everyone disperses from the bleachers. Standing up you step down the steps and sit at the bottom. The coach gives you a thumbs up as you sigh looking at everyone working out.You had a spine condition that effected the way you work out. The only exercise you did was biking from home to school everyday. So everyday you draw and watch people workout.

    Opening your sketchbook you start sketching Spider-Man from what you remember. The night you met him was one you wouldn't forget. His voice as well was branded in your mind. You knew if you heard his voice you would know exactly who he was. Dragging the pencil against the paper you start sketching the pose.

     As time went on you were finishing up details of the suit. Too bad you didn't bring your alcohol based markers to color it. Feeling a presence beside you makes you look up from your sketch book. Lilith was sitting next to you as she fixed her messy bun. She smiles at you before shifting her body facing yours. Her eyes land on the drawing of the masked hero.’’

[Peter's POV]

"let me be the guy in the chair"

"No Ned" I huff out doing sit ups faster my abs slightly aching. Thank god for this spider strength that I can get through this. Before my powers I was a pathetic little worm.

"Oh my god you drew Spider-Man? Look at your book it's filled! Do you like him or something?" I hear Lilith shout from the stands. Looking back I see her holding a book. Seeing the pages she flipped through full of red and blue. My heart racing seeing the girl of my dreams trying to reach for the book. My nickname for her is Angel , it's Ned and I's codename for her.

"So what if I do"  she snatches her book pulling it to her chest. A small smile on her face as she looks away from Lilith. 

    Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail, strands of hair falling by her face. Her glasses falling down the bridge of her nose as she looks down. She sits back down on the stands setting her feet up. Halloween crew socks over her leggings, they looked good with her white and black Vans.

"Dude did you hear that? She's into Spider-Man, aka you" Ned whispers patting my leg with a grin on his face. A blush tinting my cheeks at the thought of her liking Spider-Man,me. I’m Spider-Man.

"Shut up Ned, she would never notice m-"

"Peter knows Spider-Man!" Ned blurts out making her head look over at me. She adjusts the glasses on her nose tilting her head to the side. The others in the room look over at me making me nervous. Looking back at Ned and then back to her.

   She walks over to Ned and I sitting down on the floor next to my mat. Her legs crossed as she sets her book in her lap. Readjusting myself on the mat I sit up completely. Flash makes a snarky remark making people laugh.

“St-Stark Internship.. I see him around” I stutter not believing that she’s talking to me.

"So you really know him? My dad works with him.. I've never seen him though just heard his voice" her hands open up the book showing me her drawings. Taking the book I flip through the pages of drawings.

"Woah! these are wicked awesome" I smile down at them admiring the detailing on my suit. The detailing on my suit hasn't been seen on headlines. That's odd.

"See you around Peter" she smiles brushing her hand against mine grabbing her book. Standing up she walks over to Lilith walking towards the locker room.Lilith was bubbly and bouncing walking next to her. "Ned what the heck" I groan pushing my best friend. 

-

[Reader's POV]

   Walking out to the part of school following Peter. I see him check left to right before he jumps over the gate of the school. Turning you rest your back against the wall. A huge smile on your face because you knew just by his voice. Holding your sketchbook to your chest ,you make your way outside the building. Walking straight to the parked car waiting for you.

   Getting in the car you set your bag down on the seat. Opening up your bag you set your sketchbook inside. Taking your hair out of the ponytail and running your fingers through your hair. The divider slides down revealing a familiar smiling face.

"Hey Happy! Any cool things happen today?" you ask him buckling your seatbelt. He nods starting the car and pulling out into the lane.

"Spider-Mans new suit is ready" he says hitting the gas to speed through a light.

"I can't wait to see, I'm sure it looks fantastic" looking out the window you watch as the buildings blurred by.

-

"Dad I got an a on my Chemistry test" You smile waving the paper in the air. His chair spins around revealing him with a smile on his face.

"That's my smart girl, gets it from her dad" standing up he pulls you into a warm hug. You were going to let go but he holds you tightly against him.

"By the way.. I found your spray cans again, is that where the money I give you goes to?" his voice sounding disappointed.

"I only spray in random parts dad.. nobody noticed me but I was caught on-"

"Caught? by who?" his voice stern making you flinch. Pulling out your sketchbook you open it pointing to Spider-Man"

"Spidering caught you huh? Be careful please.. I could build you a spray painting simulator so you're not actually damaging prop-"

"What's the fun in that?" you smirk crossing your arms over your chest.

"Mr. Stark I put on the new suit!" the door opens making you turn around. Peter barges in with a smile that drops once he sees you.

"Shit!" Peter runs out of the room, you running after him. Sure he has spider strength but not spider speed. Pulling Peter's hand he looks back at you, fear in his eyes.

"Peter, I've known you're Spider-Man since you saw my art today.."

"How could you possibly have know it was me?" He asks crossing his suited arms over his toned chest.

"You had the same reaction to my Spider-Man piece I was spray painting the other night.. I couldn't get your voice out of my mind" you blush smiling up at Peter. His eyes grow at your confession.

"Peter!" Your dad's voice booms from the hallway making you both look in that direction.

"Fuck" the two of you say simultaneously looking at each other.

[lena631731856856-blog]

Judge Orders Government To Momentarily Quit Deporting Reunited Households.

Thanks for visiting My Red Cape. Will certainly send IC and travel permit app on exact same day. Together the brand new line of work from advertising and also social relationships (drawing everyday on the items this brand new field) employed some of the best-educated, brightest, as well as many stylish thoughts in the country. Off my understanding, Youngster are certainly not incriminated through God for their wrongs until they get to a certain grow older, and that if a youngster passes away prior to getting to the age from accountability, that child will, by kindness and also forgiveness of The lord, be given doorway right into Heaven.

When you handle this challenge, you will certainly start dealing with a bunch of bad sensations and also damaging activities off your life and as a result are going to end up being a far better person to become around. INDIVIDUALS REQUIRED TO REPORT; OPPORTUNITY TO REPORT. The religion leadership and also Savage ought to possess managed this in a different way. The current research pinpointed incidents from child sexual assault involving little ones with handicaps at simply half the rate of their non-disabled peers. I do not expect my youngsters to look after me or my hubby. I have never ever talked about these troubles along with my parents, yet I believe resentment. In reality though, I perform have folks in my lifestyle that recognize me properly. Always remember use their supplied black ink marker to fill up all types along with CAPITAL letter. Ironed since it has 2 little wrinkles-most of the amount of time, a Virgo kid is actually a pleasure to possess around your house. These are openly moneyed, independent understanding facilities, whereby parents as well as educators fund-raise if you want to supply a learning for their kids. Frequent sports video games can easily obtain boring after a little while, but little ones will definitely enjoy these tasks along with brand new spins on regular sports. Another endorsement is that Lord Rama also checked out Trikoneshwara temple to get rid the Brahma hatya Dosham. Replacement scalp at a prominent Catholic school, Peter Allott invested his weekends at chemsex child porn celebrations with paedophiles he complied with on Grindr, a court heard. Like every person, I prefer my children to like me. I desire all of them to vocalize my compliments and also enjoy me. However if I am actually doing my job straight, they'll anger and also certainly not like me at times. Baseding upon the United States Team from Wellness and also Human Being Solutions, Management for Kid and Households, 641,000 little ones lived in foster care in 2012. He spends many of his spare time with the family members of his girlfriend. Choose total fat deposits dairy along with vitamin D, and restrict your little one's consumption to no greater than 16 to 24 ounces each day to stay clear of iron insufficiency, cautions the KidsHealth website. Guardian Hair for Children is just one of A Youngster's Voice Foundation's a lot of programs offering monetarily disadvantaged Canadian kids suffering from a disability or disease. When my child was actually born, the health center obtained the birth certification produced me, yet as our team had actually not decided mouse click on 2018healthylifestyleblog.info a name, this was left blank on the birth certification.Then, when the student EXPERIENCES listened to, understood and also valued through that person( s) this can satisfy their requirement for connection. I will come home off college, eager to discuss all information from my time with my mama, whether my day had actually readied or a disaster.I coated the green sign outside Pete's Fish Factory and the Green Deity, measurements sensible this is actually a bit unsatisfactory, procedure a good idea the white colored from the characters is paper and also you simply painting green watercolur around where the letters ere and discover they resided in the paper at all times.

[annietipton]

Friends and Family,

Last year I celebrated 10 years at the company I work for. A decade. 120 months. 3,650 days. 29,200 hours on the clock. (1,752,000 seconds, in case you’re wondering about the math on that one.)

I’m thankful to say that I love my job. In addition to a paycheck, personal satisfaction, fulfilling working relationships, and professional challenges, after 10 years of service I gained an extra week of paid vacation. Sweet. An extra week at the beach? Sign me up.

But God poked my heart a bit—asking me to think about reserving part or all of this extra week for service to Him. He may not call me every year, but I felt His Spirit asking me to be willing and open to the possibility. So I started praying for an opportunity.

And then in early 2017, Deb got up in front of church and I knew He was speaking through her, directly to me. She and her husband, Adam, would lead a group to Mexico in July to offer help with a week of church camp put on by Vida Nueva (“New Life” in Spanish) Ministries in Piedras Negras, Mexico. It’s an organization and a place that our church has sent many teams over the years, and my heart beat faster as Deb gave a 30-second spiel about the trip.

I couldn’t wait till after the service to sign up. I walked out of the auditorium to the Welcome Center as Deb prayed before the offering and sermon and scrawled my name and email address on the top line of the sheet.

And now, 48 hours after returning from the trip, I am still in awe of the experience that God gave me. He went before me. He stood beside me. He returned with me. And I believe He allowed me to experience a tiny taste of what eternity with Him will be some day. I am changed for the better in so many ways.

First, I want to thank you. For your financial support. For your interest in the trip. For your prayers. For your specific prayers on specific days. I felt them. We as a mission team felt them. The camp staff and campers felt them:

·         Your prayers kept us safe in a country where safety isn’t guaranteed.

·         Your prayers kept us united in mind and in spirit.

·         Your prayers helped us form deep bonds that never would’ve formed otherwise.

·         Your prayers kept our planes on time, our connections made, our van trucking down the highway.

·         Your prayers helped us cross the border (both ways) without incident.

·         Your prayers kept us in good health.

·         Your prayers kept us encouraged and upbeat.

·         Your prayers helped us rest (or thrive on little rest).

·         Your prayers helped us connect with people who spoke little or no English.

·         Your prayers brought us back rejuvenated in body, mind, and spirit.

·         Your prayers helped us be a light in a world different than our own.

 We are humbled by your prayers, and I am so thankful to consider you part of my mission team.

The team from First Christian Church included 10 people—the oldest at 74, the youngest at 13, and the rest of us at varying decades between. Other than the teammates who are related to each other, the rest of us weren’t much more than acquaintances. You know who I mean. . .the people at church that you know by name and can say hi on a Sunday morning but haven’t had a real conversation with.

It took a mere 24 hours of travel and living with my team to realize that they were my people. God gave us a spirit of love and camaraderie unlike any that I’ve ever experienced.

Don’t get me wrong. We are all very different people. Varying ages, stages in life, personalities… Dover vs. New Phila (all in good fun)…but God blessed us with unity. With understanding. With an uncanny love of just being together and hanging out. I laughed more last week than I have laughed in the past year. (And that’s a lot of laughing, because I tend to find humor in everyday life.)

We worked together. We played together. We played with campers together. We ate together. We laughed. . .and laughed. . .and laughed. We studied scripture together. We prayed together. We slept in very tight quarters and took turns in a single shower. And we loved every minute of it.

We arrived at Vida Nueva on Saturday evening, and we got to experience church Sunday morning at the church next door. A good 90% of the service was in Spanish. The thing I loved most was the singing and seeing the lyrics on the screen. I took 3 years of Spanish in high school, so there were several words and phrases that I could translate. Although none of the songs were familiar to me, I sang about the freedom I have through the blood of Christ. I sang the promise that God takes away my fear. I sang for God to be glorified. I celebrated His promise of eternal life. In Spanish.

Camp started on Monday morning when 60 kids ages 5-12 arrived at the camp. The theme of the week was “Jesús es mi superheroé” (Jesus is my superhero), and the verse of the week was Juan (John) 3:16.

Part of my week was spent prepping and painting classrooms for the semester that will start at the school in a few weeks. There were 4 of us—all who happened to be 30-somethings—who became the painting crew. All-in-all we completed 4 large classrooms during the week. And we had a blast doing it. Maybe it was the paint fumes or the old-school Christian music (think Supertones and Audio Adrenaline) or the worship music that we sang at the top of our lungs. But it was also the hours of conversation in the midst of hard work—kneeling and climbing ladders and rolling and sweating and trying to stay hydrated—that bonded me to Renée, Jason, and Kris.

The other part of the week I got to work with kids in a couple of the camp classes—woodworking and crafts. Renée and I experienced a day and a half in a large, echo-ey classroom filled with about 20 kids hammering nails into boards. It was like a Mexican Santa’s Workshop with more sweat and fewer candy canes and cocoa. In my normal life, I legitimately may have put one of the hammers through my own skull just to make the noise stop, but there was something calming (and ridiculous—Renée and I laughed through the chaos) about the whole thing. We found joy in every task and in every moment we could.

Wednesday Deb asked us to lead her class for the day—crafts. So the 4 of us on the painting crew (with the help of the teenage Mexican leaders to translate) worked with kids to use fabric markers to color superhero-themed headbands and tiny superhero figures out of clothespins. The kids had a blast, and we did, too.

The food we ate at camp was mostly amazing and sometimes a little weird. I tried cactus for the first time, and I’d always choose the picante (spicy) option if we were given an option by the cooks. Some on our team were EXTREME lightweights in the spicy department, but I found the spice to be really delicious. Although, to be fair, they do tone it down a bit since they’re feeding kids. One lunch that was particularly strange included a side of pasta that was a mix of Chef-Boyardee ravioli, Spaghetti-os, and other types of similar noodles in sauce. I was hungry and it was good.

We got to meet and interact with so many of the kids and adult staff, and it was a blessing to be with them and help in whatever way we could. John used his skills and talent as an electrician to install new lighting in the campus’s outdoor gym. Adam helped manage and orchestrate detailed woodworking projects that the kids loved making and will hang on their walls at home for years. Deb and Donna helped the campers create fun and interesting crafts that they will cherish. Bailey (13) helped with childcare, was Adam’s shadow and helped him with lots of odd jobs, and her dry/deadpan sense of humor kept us laughing all week. We gave Ty (15) a hard time, saying that he didn’t work all week, but he did. He made connections with the kids and other teenage leaders that none of us adults could have. Jason was the big, fun, and goofy Americano that all the kids loved. Kris’s quiet, hardworking, patient, kind demeanor, and ever-present smile encouraged everyone around him. And Renée’s warm hugs and infectious laugh were freely given to campers throughout the week.

I am so blessed to call them friends.

I have a notebook full of my memories that I recorded throughout camp, and I will be happy to tell you more when I see you. But for now and for the end of this update, I want to leave you with something that God revealed to me mid-week:

We live in a fallen world. There is darkness, poverty, sin, pain, sadness, and despair all around. As believers, we know the end game—God will redeem this world when Jesus comes again, and we look forward to that day. But for a moment—for a week in the middle of July—God, in His great love for me, allowed me to glimpse a shadow of heaven. Of joyfully working for Him. Of unity with believers with white skin and darker skin. Of living in, radiating, and reflecting His love.

What a privilege. What an honor that He gives us opportunities to see that glimpse of eternity.

If you have served on a short-term mission—in the US, at a church camp, outside our borders, overseas—you understand what I’m talking about. If you have never taken the step out of your comfort zone to serve, I urge you to listen for God’s call. Don’t wait for heaven. Get the taste on your tongue and in your spirit now.

Tú hermana en Cristo (Your sister in Christ),

Annie

Every time I think of you, I give thanks to my God.  Whenever I pray, I make my requests for all of you with joy, for you have been my partners in spreading the Good News about Christ from the time you first heard it until now. And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. Philippians 1:3–6 NLT

P.S. If you’d like to see more pictures and videos from the trip, you can find one at: https://youtu.be/i46s64GQzLY

 Follow Vida Nueva on Facebook and find even more pictures and videos from the week: https://www.facebook.com/vidanuevaministries/