#i've been playing like daily for the past few weeks ! i think

[noxtivagus]

i've been listening to more of arknights' ost n i love it so much

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I broke up with my girlfriend for not taking her meds?

My (24M) girlfriend (28F) has bipolar and BPD. We've been together coming up on 3 years now. For the last half a year we were together it was pretty rough and turbulent, she was unmedicated and was having suicidal breakdowns almost every day, ended up in hospital several times, threatened and got into physical altercations with other girls who spoke to me or she thought were flirting with me, and I was spending almost every single day of my life having to take hours to talk her down from suicide or self-harm. It was emotionally exhausting and as someone who's also had suicide attempts in the past it was also incredibly triggering and damaging to my own mental health.

For additional context as to why I feel the way I do, my last girlfriend also had diagnosed BPD and NPD and when she stopped taking her medication she became fully abusive both physically and verbally and it took me a year of being absolutely beaten down to finally snap and leave her.

(Obvious note: I'm not saying everyone with bipolar, BPD, or NPD is abusive or that these illnesses inherently make you abusive. They were an abuser who just happened to have those things, and that played into how they acted and thought/felt.)

Current girlfriend eventually got medication and has been doing much better for most of the time since then. When she's on her meds she's a wonderful and generally pretty healthy partner - she's supportive, understanding of my boundaries, checks in with me, she's a year clean from self-harm, hasn't displayed any kind of self-destructive behaviour. She's gotten a job and managed to hold it down (got fired from several jobs in the past because of her daily meltdowns meaning she wasn't attending work), she's started exercising and going to the gym, she's picked up new hobbies, made new friends, she's just been doing great in general.

For about the past month though, she started going days without taking her medication and when I reminded her she would say she didn't want to, that she hated taking it, that she doesn't like the way it makes her feel etc. This is something my last girlfriend said too, and I know it's really common for people with BPD (and maybe bipolar too?) to stop taking their medication because they feel emotionally flat in comparison to how they feel off of the meds. I pretty much said that I couldn't handle going back to how she acts when she's off of the medication again and that if she was going to stop taking them then I didn't think our relationship would last through that kind of period again because last time it completely destroyed my mental health, my sleep, my life and several of my relationships due to how much energy and time I was having to put into her vs. myself and everything else. I suggested asking her doctor/psychiatrist/etc. for another dosage change or meds switch again to see if that would work better (though up until recently they have seemed to be working great so I'm not sure how good of an idea switching it up again would be).

She agreed at the time but I was kind of concerned about whether she'd been keeping up with it or not because over the last few weeks I've already noticed things devolving again - her screaming at me out of nowhere and having mood swings, intense jealousy and possessiveness, impulsive behaviour, even a couple of breakdowns again and having to talk her out of self-harm for the first time in over a year. True enough, today I found out she's been pretending to take her medication and throwing them out. When I confronted her about it she admitted she hasn't taken her medication for weeks.

I pretty much withdrew after that and didn't say anything at that moment but after a while she asked me why I was being so quiet and I basically repeated what I'd said to her in the last conversation, that I was honestly rethinking whether or not the relationship would work because I can't handle that kind of emotional exhaustion and constant sacrifice all over again. I don't mind some emotional support and some labour of love in a relationship because of course I'm going to need to look out for her mental health and reassure and comfort sometimes, that's the reality of loving someone who struggles, but I can't do it 24/7 again. I can't once again put talking her down for hours every day and weathering screaming and violent lashing out all the time at the expense of even my own basic needs and my own mental health struggles (for example my c-PTSD from my last relationship).

When I said that she got very very upset and basically said I was forcing her to choose between me and freedom or being able to live a normal/unmedicated life (which I mean, I guess I can't argue with because in a way I am making her choose between me and stopping her meds), and that I couldn't control her like that. I told her I wasn't doing it to control her and that if she's really determined to go off of them she could, but that I would have to make my own personal choice to walk away as a result of it for my own sake.

She said she'd think about it but ever since that conversation I've been going back and forth in my head on how much of a dick move it would be to flat out just do a black-and-white "Either you stay on your meds and regulate your behaviour or I leave"

TL;DR Girlfriend wants to go off of her medication, but when she's off her meds she has almost daily suicidal breakdowns and lashes out at me physically and verbally. WIBTA if I broke up with her if she goes ahead with stopping?

What are these acronyms?

[honeybrowne]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 — 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐑

— summary: you're a temptation all on your own, but how does your professor react when you show up to a meeting in a pretty summer dress?

— pairing: professor!hotch x female reader

— content: basically straight porn; aaron is extremely horny for reader; age gap (reader's age is not specified, but the dynamic implies it); established sexual relationship; forbidden sex/relationship; fem receiving oral; unprotected p in v (don't be like them); cream pie; no use of y/n [4.0k words]

— author's note: i've been rereading this and editing it like crazy over the last week bc i'm so rusty with writing & i wanted to be happy with the final result and i think i am?? who knows. anyway, thank you to @spacecowboyhotch for beta'ing this for me and making me feel better about it. and thank you to those who showed their interest in this fic, your enthusiasm has helped with my confidence tremendously <3

navigation . masterlist

College is both fulfilling and really confusing.

Confusing in the sense that you often wondered if you were pursuing the right degree.

How can anyone ever know for sure what they want to do for the rest of their life? Is there even a way to know? People change and so do their interests, but asking yourself that question had made your head hurt and stressed you out more than was healthy, so you stopped.

Now, you're only two semesters away from getting your Bachelor's and you've never been more sure of a decision in your life.

Admittedly, this revelation had nothing to do with the fact that you enjoy learning about forensics and how the human mind works, and everything to do with who is teaching you those things.

Professor Hotchner was your criminal psychology professor and was insanely handsome, middle aged, tall, broad, soft spoken—pretty much everything you found attractive in a man.

Your choice to sit in the front row and directly in front of the podium was a spur of the moment decision, but had given him a perfect and unobstructed view of you. He had caught you staring at him on several occasions because of it, and he's sure you've caught him a few times, too.

He just couldn't help himself. The way you looked at him with your pen between your teeth, however innocently, caused inappropriate images to run through his mind daily. Frequently getting lost in his own daydreams of you, imagining what you'd smell like, how your skin would feel beneath his hands. You were the first person he'd seek out, a thrill of excitement rippling up his spine when he saw you already looking at him.

You had become the primary source of his fantasies, nobody else even coming close to you. Your face and body was the one he thought of when he needed release, and it worked every single time.

It made him feel dirty and shameful, but it wasn't enough to get him to stop.

Still, Professor Hotchner would feel a heavy lump form in his throat when you'd stay after the lecture was over, waiting patiently for the rest of your peers to leave before asking him a question. Nervous you somehow knew of his filthy secret because you were always so shy face to face, rarely ever making eye contact with him.

But the profiler in him knew different. You were attracted to him, even if he struggled to understand why, your body language said everything you didn't. Still, it was purely speculation, and the insecure side of him was convinced it was his delusions playing a trick on him.

It wasn't till you scheduled a one-on-one meeting that he received absolute confirmation of his suspicions.

You hadn't gone out of your way to dress more provocatively, which some students have done in the past for a better grade, but you had a new air of confidence he hadn't seen from you before. You were the one to make eye contact first, maintaining it when his brown eyes stared back into yours, challenging you to look away.

Then, you took him completely by surprise.

"Profile me," you had said.

He thought you were joking, hadn't had a student ask him that unless they were skeptical of profiling, but he could tell that wasn't what this was.

So, he gave you exactly what you wanted.

Everything he ever noticed about you, he said, and he couldn't get enough of the way your eyes watched him intently while he did.

It intimidated you, being perceived that greatly by a man like him, but you still relished it. Knowing he chose to pay attention to you in a room full of people, taking the time to learn all those things about you without an incentive, it made you feel powerful.

After that day, you had scheduled more meetings—an excuse to spend more time with him. He didn't mind it, and would take any chance he could to see you on a more personal level. Although, he always kept these meetings strictly what they were meant to be: you getting extra academic help, something that was available to all of his students.

While you were clearly his favorite, he refused to show you favoritism. He expected the same out of you as he did everyone else, and you appreciated that. You didn't want special treatment just because you flirted with each other. That's not why you flirted with him to begin with.

You were genuinely interested, and you didn't want him to question that.

Eventually, however, your relationship had turned sexual. You had kissed him first, when you took a break together after working side by side in his office for a couple hours, grabbing coffee from the nearest coffee shop. His hand pulling you closer by your waist when another man walked in was purely instinct, not to claim possession over you, he's seen what this world is capable of first-hand.

Regardless of his intentions, his touch had awakened something in you, something that made you stand on your toes and kiss him.

It was sudden, unexpected, but absolutely welcomed. Your lips tasted sugary sweet, mixing deliciously with the lingering bitterness on his, and he couldn't stop himself there. He had taken you home after that, worshiping your body like he always dreamed, and fucked you senseless till both of your needs were satiated.

It happened several times after that, always off campus, and Professor Hotchner—now Aaron, which he had insisted you call him when you were alone—had intended to keep it that way. Establishing a no-sex-in-his-office rule for himself to strictly follow.

However, your respective schedules had made seeing each other outside of lecture impossible recently, and he was aching for you.

And the outfit you currently had on only made it worse.

It was different from what you were wearing during the lecture earlier that morning, catching him entirely off guard. The t-shirt and jeans you originally wore had been traded for a sundress that was short enough to tease him, awakening the intense hunger he felt for you.

In your defense, it was midsummer in Virginia, which meant that it felt suffocatingly hot outside.

Even he had exchanged his typical suit and tie for something more manageable in the heat, removing the tie and jacket from his wardrobe for the time being. It seems you had made the proper adjustments to your attire as well.

The only problem is, it was at his expense.

Your dress accentuated every part of your body he loves, the ones he thinks about regularly. He couldn't help but look, his eyes drifting over your figure as you walk into his office.

"This isn't what you were wearing this morning," he notes as you greet him with a brief kiss, like always.

You look down at your outfit, pulling at the hem slightly, shrugging.

"It wasn't as hot this morning."

Aaron hums, feeling your heart thump a little faster against his fingertips as he slowly traces them along the neckline of your dress, admiring the way it fits you. It's gentle and teasing and you do your best to not let it get to you.

"Well, I like it. It looks beautiful on you," he compliments.

"Thank you."

Your voice is soft, and a little bashful; you've never been good at accepting his compliments but you do your best and that's what matters most to him. He wants to be able to tell you what he thinks and you believe him, not brush it off like he's saying it just to say it.

He brings you in for another kiss, not fully satisfied with the one you'd given him before. One of his large hands caresses the back of your neck, your breath shallow as he tugs you closer by your waist. His tongue swipes over your lips, groaning into your mouth when you let him in. It's tender and loving, and way too passionate for the office.

Remembering his rule, Aaron pulls back, and places one last kiss on your cheek before distancing himself.

"In your email you said you aren't confident about the final," he says, changing the subject. "Remind me what's giving you trouble."

The kiss leaves you wanting, mind foggy as you try to make sense of his words and what just happened. He rounds his desk as you gather your thoughts, an amused expression on his face when your brows furrow, an indication that you're struggling to think clearly.

"Yeah I uh, I still don't fully understand structuralism," you finally manage.

"Okay, tell me what you do understand."

Aaron gestures for you to join him on the loveseat in the corner of the room, bringing his laptop with him. You trail behind, setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your textbook. Your dress rides up further when you sit down, exposing more of you to him, and he has to force himself to look away before he takes this meeting to an entirely different direction.

There's a tab sticking out of the pages that you use to make finding the right one you're looking for easier.

Scribbled down words adorn the margins of the textbook, different colored gel pens indicating certain details of your notes that he can't even begin to decipher.

As you begin explaining the topic to the best of your ability, Aaron listens, wanting to give you his full attention. The more you go on, the more he determines that you are overthinking it and second guessing yourself. You understand the material fine, better than he anticipated, even.

He merely scratched the surface during lectures, the topic not something that needs to be discussed in detail in this particular class, but you're thorough—he's come to learn that's a characteristic you possess in all aspects, especially the ones he tends to benefit from.

Still, he lets you continue because he loves hearing you talk, and gradually moves closer, the appropriate and respectable distance between you becoming smaller and smaller.

You waver a few times, but he signals you to keep going.

He simply wanted to be closer; didn't have any ulterior motive. It's easier to touch you from this distance, to lean in and press a chaste kiss to your cheek because he can. It's easier to admire you up close, where he can brush his finger along your jaw while he tells you how beautiful you are.

It's nothing new. Aaron's love language has always been words of affirmation and physical touch, not that you've gotten to the point that you're ready for love confessions, but it's how he expresses his attraction towards you.

However, when a draft in the room gives him a hint of your perfume, everything changes.

His touch is more determined now, intentions set on getting you out of that goddamn dress. One of his hands makes its way to your shoulder, brushing away the hair that covers your neck. He leans in, placing firm kisses along your jaw before drifting down to your pulse point.

You fumble over your words again, his lips soft and perfect and very distracting.

"Sweetheart," Aaron murmurs when you don't continue, the words muffled against your skin, "I don't remember saying you could stop."

His tone is businesslike, a stark contrast to the very unprofessional things he's currently doing to you. You suck in a breath when his hand skates over your thighs, your head instinctively titling to the side to give him better access.

"I can't concentrate," you pout.

"Then just relax and focus on me."

"But—"

Aaron nudges your jaw and captures your lips in a messy kiss, his large fingers digging into the flesh of your hip as he speaks. "You're stressing yourself out, my love. You understand the material fine. Will you let me dote on you for a moment? I've missed you."

You nod, letting out a soft moan when he retreats back to your neck, teeth and tongue working together to suck a mark into your skin. It feels so good that you forget to speak, a sharp squeeze of his hand on your thigh reminding you that he always expects a verbal response.

"I missed you too, but... what if someone hears us?"

He smiles, pleased that you know him so well. The way he's touching and kissing you is a clear indication of his end goal, and he loves that you know it.

"I suppose we'll just have to be quiet, then."

You take a shaky breath when he takes the textbook from your grasp and sets it aside before moving his hand to the seam of your thighs, a request for access. A satisfied hum leaves his lips when you open them without hesitating, and trails his fingers along the inner skin.

His touch is affectionate, not at all rough or taking, and it turns you on like crazy.

"My perfect girl," he murmurs to himself.

The praise and his voice makes you ache for him even more, and his eyes zero in on the tiny wet patch that begins forming on your panties. His mouth waters at the thought of how delectable you're going to taste when he finally gets his tongue on you.

Carefully, Aaron moves off the loveseat, kissing his way down your body as he gets settled on his knees. He pulls you closer to his face and your dress scrunches up around your waist at the action. The deep breath he takes is slow and mere inches from your barely clothed cunt, his broad and rough hands smoothing over the backs of your thighs.

"You smell incredible," he sighs, content with being in this position. "Can I, baby?"

While getting your consent every time is extremely important to Aaron, you know he's not actually asking for your permission. He already knows that you want him, but it's more to hear you beg for it. With the desperate state he's got you in, you easily give him what he wants.

"Please," you whisper. "I wanna feel you, Aaron. Please."

One of his fingers grazes your pussy as he pulls your panties to the side and out of his way, revealing you to him, the cold air in his office sending a chill up your spine.

"You sound so pretty when you beg, but you gotta be quiet for me now, okay?"

The second your meek "yes, sir" hits his ears, his mouth is on you and your back arches at the contact, a heavy groan resounding through him at his first taste of you in weeks. The warm sensation of his tongue sliding through your folds is more than enough to make your body go alight in an instant, your fingers grasping at the loveseat.

You try to watch him as he works, propping yourself up on your elbows as your jaw goes slack and your eyes threaten to shut with how fucking incredible it feels. He's good at this. So good that it's difficult to suppress a loud moan that creeps out your throat, the sound echoing throughout the room.

All he does is look at you, mouth still attached to your pussy, and you murmur a quiet "sorry" in such a pathetic tone it makes his cock twitch.

Aaron readjusts himself to get a better angle, arms circling your legs to keep you in place. He spreads your folds with his fingers to give him the space to focus his tongue on your clit, teeth occasionally coming out from behind his lips to nip at the sensitive bud. You writhe from the pleasure it brings you, your legs threatening to close around his ears and keep him there forever, and he wishes you would.

He'd live happily if he could drink in your taste every waking moment and feel the way your body shivers in response to each of his actions.

"Aaron," you whimper, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

He hums in response, and your eyes practically roll to the back of your head, the vibration stimulating you further.

He slips a finger into you easily; the mixture of your slick and his spit giving him no resistance, so he adds another, curling the digits once he's knuckle deep and grazing a spot in you that has you grinding against his face.

"Oh, fuck," you mewl, one of your hands finding its way to his head, determined to keep him right there.

You can feel the mess you're making—of yourself, of him and the loveseat. Aaron knows he'll never be able to be in this room again without thinking of this moment, of you spread out and at his mercy, hips rolling eagerly to find your climax.

He uses his free hand to palm himself, the ache in his pants nearing unbearably painful.

"Gonna fuck your pretty pussy, baby, but I need you to come first," he encourages.

And the encouragement works like a damn charm.

The coil in your belly is tight, each delicious swirl of his tongue and thrust of his fingers tightens it further. Your body is trembling, legs shaking as you feel like you're about to erupt. He groans into you again, and your toes curl, the hand in his hair tugging and pulling as the power of your orgasm makes you squirm in his hold. Heavy pants leave your lungs, your bottom lip swollen from how hard your teeth have been digging into the flesh to keep yourself quiet.

Aaron keeps pumping his fingers into you till he feels your walls relax.

Once he does, he backs away only enough to get his belt unbuckled and his fly unzipped. He strokes himself to give you time to catch your breath, the friction providing him with enough relief that he can manage to wait for a little longer.

However, you have different plans.

"I need you inside me, please," you beg, and fuck if that sentence isn't the prettiest thing he's ever heard.

The desire in your eyes makes his heart pound wildly against his sternum—how you make him feel is dangerous. The carnal need and desire he has for you overpowers everything, and both hates it and loves it.

Hates it because it consumes him, loves it because it's you.

"How do you want me?" you ask impatiently.

Aaron gets off the ground, attempts to, anyway. His knees are not as young as they used to be, and you can't help but laugh at the face he makes when he struggles.

"Don't be a brat."

He sits down beside you and pats his lap, and you're quick to seat yourself exactly there despite your wobbly legs.

Before doing anything else, you lean into him, pressing the sweetest kisses you can muster to his lips. You can taste yourself on him and you moan into his mouth because of it. His hands smooth over your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pushes his hips into yours.

"I love it when you're on top of me like this," he groans.

Your head tilts back, and your mind had been so foggy from pleasure up to this point that you'd forgotten where you were, awareness suddenly coming back to you. Aaron turns your face back to him by your chin when you start looking around, eyes widening when they land on the door.

"Hey, focus on me."

"But—"

He doesn't give you the time to panic and guides himself into you, the breach sudden and breathtaking, filling you completely. You have no choice but to sit flush against his lap, his broad and strong thighs giving you all the support you need.

"It's locked," Aaron assures you, referring to the door. "I locked it when you got here just in case."

You huff a laugh, breathy and tired. "So, this was premeditated?"

"It always is," he grins.

Slowly, you begin to work your hips, after gaining the needed strength to ride him the way he likes. You falter a couple times, a little weak and uncoordinated, but he's there to help you regain your pace, the two of you working effortlessly together.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him carelessly. He teases you by pulling away, smiling at the pout you give him.

It feels oddly intimate and sweet considering that you're both almost completely clothed and fucking on a slightly uncomfortable couch with the possibility of someone knocking on the door at any moment. You know he'd just ignore them, but the sound of your skin hitting his every time you slam down on him and the mingling of your heavy breaths isn't exactly quiet.

Neither of you cares, though, Aaron least of all. Touching himself to the thought of you for the last couple weeks had been good and effective, but not nearly as good as the real thing.

You're so warm and tight, your walls hugging his cock like you were made for him, and part of him is convinced you were. It feels like heaven, and he cherishes it, slipping the straps of your dress down your arms to reveal your bare chest. He groans at the sight and cups your breasts in his hands, thumbs rubbing over your nipples as you continue moving over him.

Everything feels so good that you can't even kiss him back anymore, breathing heavily against his mouth instead. Your legs feel fatigued and they begin to tremble again, whether it's from pleasure or exhaustion, you aren't sure.

"I’m getting close," Aaron warns, his voice taut and rough.

You nod, the coil in your belly forming for the second time. He begins matching your movements, thrusting up as gravity brings you down.

"Oh my— fuck," you gasp, feeling him so deep it takes your breath away.

You come in tandem, your orgasm causing you to squeeze him so tight he can't stop himself from letting go. The groans that come out of his mouth are debauched and loud, and he buries his face into your neck to subdue them. It makes you pulse around his cock, pulling out more of his warm spend.

It's soothing, and you swear you've never experienced anything this sexy in your life.

Your body slumps into his, limbs heavy and tired, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin. Aaron rolls his hips a few times, trying to prolong his blissful high. It overstimulates you, and he whispers his apology against the crown of your head, his lips finding their resting place there.

"I can't believe we just had sex in your office," you say after a while.

He laughs, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. "We weren't ever supposed to, but you looked so beautiful today, I couldn't help myself."

"Hmm," you hum skeptically, "what does that say about how I look every other day?"

Aaron huffs. "Absolutely nothing. It's just been too long since I've had you like this, anything would've gotten me this hard for you."

Your face heats up at his honesty, even the mildest of dirty talk still too much for you, especially where he is concerned. Anything that comes out of his mouth sounds sexy, because his voice fuels your libido like nothing else ever could.

It takes a while before either of you musters the strength to get up, exchanging tired kisses and gentle touches till you do. Your dress is wrinkled and so is his dress shirt, the crotch of his slacks damp and covered in the mixture of your juices and his release.

Luckily, he always keeps a spare change of clothes in his office. A habit born from his days as a profiler.

Unfortunately for you, however, you're stuck looking like an absolute mess.

Aaron does his best to help you straighten up, cleaning your thighs and smoothing out your dress before running his fingers through your hair carefully to somewhat brush it out. It's not the greatest but it does the job. The chime that comes from his phone interrupts him, a reminder of his next lecture and a signal that it's time for you to go.

He makes a mental note to turn on the diffuser and wipe down the couch when he returns.

You leave him with one last kiss, promising to do this again once the semester is over, when he isn't your professor anymore and neither of you has to worry about sneaking around.

It's a promise he hopes you keep.

[yawnderu]

TW: Mentions of suicidal thoughts and mental health, depression.

Hi! I'm sorry I haven't been active here, I've been struggling for a few months now and everything was building up to a breaking point so these past 2 weeks have been just awful.

Thank you so much to everyone who wished me a happy birthday! I really really appreciate it, and I'm very thankful for every single person who has interacted with me and my blog. ^^

I don't know if I'll keep writing or if I'll use this blog/Tumblr much, quite honestly I got into writing when I was pretty motivated and had a serotonin surge after getting out of an abusive relationship and I was pretty much the happiest I've ever been despite struggling with my mental health since middle school.

Sadly, that didn't last long and it came crashing down harder than ever. Don't worry, I'm not going to kill or harm myself, I simply wanted to apologize for not being active, not replying to dms and comments much, and generally just being way less active than what I used to be.

Thank you to all of you, I made really awesome friends here and just know that if you ever interacted with my content, I see you, and I appreciate you more than you could ever think. This blog is what kept me going for a very long time, so thank you a lot for that as well!<3

Now this isn't a farewell, just an explanation. It's likely I'll come here to leave posts every once in a while once I'm doing a bit better, and I'm active daily on Discord in case any of my mutuals want to add me there.

I play MW3 quite a lot too, so if any of my followers would like to play, we can do that as well!<3

[corgitation]

how I use xTiles to help me study

For the past few weeks, I've been using a new app to help me study and I think it's been really useful! I used to use Notion as an online dashboard, but trying to make an effective template would overwhelm me. This app is similar, but simpler. This is my current setup:

pomodoro timer: I love the flocus app, and they've made a widget that you can embed directly onto xTiles! I switch it between home mode and focus mode when I'm working on my studies

stopwatch: this is another embedded site, and I use this one to time my activities. It's simple and does exactly what it needs to: start, pause, clear. This way I can track the individual actions to log into lingotrack

youtube video: I love to study to video game music, so I've picked one that I like and I can play the video directly from my dashboard. I switch this out as needed

dailies links: I've linked all of the sites that I use daily for studying: wanikani for vocab and kanji, bunpro for grammar, this blog for study logs, lingotrack for time tracking, and natively for tracking immersion progress (although lingotrack has a feature for this as well, so I may switch to that)

fun pictures: just for the good vibes :)

[cheesybadgers]

Narcos Fic: Old Habits Die Hard (Chap. 24)

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23

Read on AO3

Masterlist

Pairing: Javier Peña x Horacio Carrillo

Words: 3,440

Summary: It's been 15 years since Horacio and Javier brought down Gacha in Tolú, and now they're back where their story began.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. Brief allusions to period-typical prejudices/politics/legislation, very brief sexual references, smoking, swearing, all the fluff.

Notes: Well....I feel like I should post this with a fanfare or something (just imagine there's one playing), but oh boy, oh man, oh god. I did it. I flipping did it 😭 It's only taken 36 months, copious amounts of blood, sweat and tears, a deranged amount of research, the last shred of my sanity, and probably a fair amount of back/neck pain from sitting at my laptop for too long to get here. But hey, if I don't write a self-indulgent novel-length fix-it fic for a criminally underrated rarepair from a defunct TV show, WHO WILL, I ASK THEE? 😂

I can't fully explain the journey this fic has taken me and my writing on, or the deep love I have in my heart for this ship and the OHDH universe that has lived constantly in my head these last few years. Even when I'm not actively writing, so many things remind me of these two everywhere I go. They got me through the darkest days of the pandemic and somehow became my comfort ship, despite er, certain canon events we don't talk about in this house.

Anyway, I think you've all heard quite enough from me for the time being. So, I will just say thank you so, so, so much to anyone who has read, commented, kudosed, reblogged, liked, sent me messages, made me things, suggested music recs, generally been incredibly supportive and kind ❤️

And thank you to anyone who may stumble across this fic in future. Please never be afraid to leave a comment, even if you're reading several years down the line, I will always love to hear from people about this story.

There will also be some moodboards and playlists posted on my Tumblr at some point (and *maybe* some new - much shorter lol - fics eventually) once I've caught my breath back a bit.

For the final time (unless I randomly think of anything I've forgotten, which is more than likely lol), I’ve also added to my OHDH trivia post to cover this chapter if anyone is interested.

Chapter 24: Suerte (Epilogue)

Early evening rays painted the pastel horizon, their last act of the day transforming the shimmering ocean into an inky palate of fuchsia, violet and saffron, the golden sands at the shore still warm to the touch hours past dusk.

Come the weekend, Colombians would travel far and wide to descend on the many beaches, bars and restaurants that dotted the waterfront. Or if they were feeling adventurous, they would birdwatch, dive off the Islas de San Bernardo, or canoe amongst the mangroves.

But it was mid-week and mid-December – when most locals were at work and school or preparing for Christmas. So, for now, Horacio and Javier had the place to themselves.

There was the added bonus of the coastline turning into a dense forest of palm trees just along from their beach house, civilisation a mile or so away on either side of them, so even at peak times, they remained secluded. It had become a daily ritual to luxuriate in the peace and quiet; a pre-dinner swim with no trunks required followed by entwined limbs and sand in their hair as the sun went down.

Today was no exception, the gentle lapping of the waves around them and their shallow breaths the only sounds to be heard, the taste of salt and scent of sun lotion heavy in the air and on their skin as Horacio rocked into Javier, slow and deep, their chests and foreheads drawn together.

It was almost dark when Javier switched on the shower taps, cascading soothing jets over his head, neck and shoulders. As he soaked his hair, the lights from inside the beach house sprung to life, illuminating the outdoor bathroom with an ambient glow. It was a feature of the premium accommodation they had splashed out on, a rare treat away for a special occasion.

The outside space was a mix of wood, tiles and natural stone for the walls and floors, encased by tall plants and trees for extra privacy. A double shower stood on a platform at the end of a walkway, with a large hot tub branching off in the other direction. On their first night here, they had opted for the tub, surrounding it with candles as a belated ode to Día de las Velitas, lost in each other beneath the bubbles and the stars.

A sturdy embrace enveloped Javier from behind, a position they had found themselves in every morning by the shore before breakfast, looking out to a tranquil sea and a kaleidoscopic sky. The day jobs kept them both on their feet and in good shape, although there was more softness around their stomachs, and Javier was stockier than in his younger years. But his upper body was even broader with muscle now.

He was no gym fiend, but he had accompanied Horacio in some of his strengthening training, wanting to keep his stamina up as much as possible. Not just for the obvious but because he was sometimes required to carry the heavier supplies at work and didn’t want to be shown up in front of his largely youthful team.

It was a welcome development to Horacio, whatever the reason. Not that he ever had any complaints before, but watching Javier blossom as he aged was a wonder to behold. Not to mention, there was more of him to enjoy now.

As for Horacio, aside from the sloping curve of his midriff, he was sheer jaguar strength. Not only in the noticeable places, but his core muscles were in peak condition, the daily horse riding improving his posture and taking him back to the drill commands of his cadet years. His skin was more weathered, and his days of being meticulously cleanly shaven at all times were long gone. But Javier assured him – a lot – the ruggedness was part of the appeal.

Javier wasn’t one to talk either, stubble being a more regular feature alongside his moustache nowadays. But that was mainly due to lack of time in his busy schedule rather than preference, so it wasn’t unheard of for Horacio to do the honours for him. For some reason, Horacio delicately scraping a razor blade across his jaw from the comfort of his lap was far more appealing to Javier than doing it himself in front of the bathroom mirror.

Their hair contained more grey patches, especially around the temples, which was easier to hide when they grew it longer. That wasn’t practical during the sweltering heat of a Texan summer, so they kept it shorter in the hotter months. But in the winter, they could run their fingers through choppy waves and coils of curls to their hearts’ content. And luckily for them, their anniversary fell in December.

“Can you believe it’s been 15 years to the day?” Horacio asked, scattering kisses across Javier’s back.

“This doesn’t even feel like the same fucking place, to be honest.”

“Tell me about it.”

Horacio let out a huff as flashbacks of leading his men on a fleet of raiding crafts towards Gacha’s hideout collided with memories from merely days ago of him and Javier island hopping in a hire boat along the same waters. They had taken a platter of fresh seafood and fruit, exploring the remotest beaches and lagoons, where their only company was the local wildlife.

He could still remember the sensation of the blood at his temple as he lay disorientated on the sand in the aftermath of the explosion, a stark contrast to dozing together under the shade of a palm tree or reading aloud to each other the words of Lorca, Gaitán Durán, Arbeláez, Neruda, Paz, Castellanos and Mistral.

“Although, I did notice signs for the barracks towards Coveñas when we were driving here,” Horacio added with a nostalgic smirk.

“Oh yeah? You didn’t want another night there for old times’ sake?” Javier tilted his head until he found Horacio’s lips with his teeth.

Horacio hummed and put up no resistance, his wet hands sailing with ease down Javier’s body, finding purchase at his hip bones. “It was tempting. But I figured you’d want to make the most of this before Christmas.”

“Damn right.”

They took turns massaging shampoo into each other’s scalps, lathering the suds through thick spirals, tenderly pulling at strands until they purred, thoroughly indulging in the sensation whilst they had the chance. And then they did it all again, rinsing off the soap, floating away on the meditative pressure of the faucet and their fingers.

“We could always see if Alejandra has more spa freebies if it gets too much, though,” Javier suggested through the haze of steam now cocooning them.

“I like your thinking.”

It had been a while since they last used such tickets, their previous visits not dissimilar to how their current vacation was playing out. But despite the chaos that would no doubt ensue, they were looking forward to catching up with Horacio’s side of the family. Between expanding businesses in Texas and Manizales and the oldest half of the brood living and working elsewhere now with the twins staying at home studying, they didn’t get to meet up as much as they would have liked.

However, Elena visited Laredo several times, swapping life stories and recipes with Chucho and joining Horacio and Javier in San Antonio one spring for the Fiesta. Her last holiday outside of Colombia had been before Alejandra and Horacio were born, so she was determined to take advantage of having family abroad before age finally caught up with her. There had even been discussions of a trip to Madrid if Horacio and Javier could arrange cover at work the following year.

“Pops is flying out on the 20th, right?”

“Yes. Marco and Raúl are covering the ranch and animals until your father’s back on the 28th. And Jorge is covering the farm until we’re home from Miami in the New Year.”

No one was keen to leave Luna, Sol and Leo, who had long since retired from ranch duties, but between work and Christmas commitments, Connie taking a full-time job in a different hospital, now Olivia was a teenager going on 30, and the earlier-than-expected arrival of Felipe’s and Juana’s second child – Óscar, a little brother to Claudia – New Year was the only time everyone’s schedules matched up.

These days, Luna, whose main residence was the cottage now, Sol and Leo spent most of their time nestled on furniture or looking for treats in the kitchen whenever food was prepared. However, Luna would sometimes still ride in the back of Horacio’s truck and keep him company in the lower fields.

Kira and Fuego had become old pros, showing their younger siblings, Cielo and Tierra, the ropes, not as replacements to the trio but as a new team with their own quirks and personalities. Thankfully, the dogs and Coco had taken well to the pair of barn cats, Churro and Tamale, who patrolled the outbuildings and dealt with any rodent intruders.

Meanwhile, Chucho showed few signs of slowing down, except one summer when he twisted an ankle, and even that was hard work to get him to rest. But he had been happy to step back from some of his more physically demanding responsibilities in recent years, trusting that the ranch and farm were in capable hands. With their expansion plans a resounding success – plus some new ones up their sleeves – he had become more involved in the business side of the operation alongside Miguel.

And, of course, he was always happy to offer Horacio advice whenever needed. But for the most part, he left him to it since Félix’s retirement, preferring to arrange for the guesthouses to be refurbished or to deliver fresh batches of cooking to aid workers and exhausted arrivals alike on the frontline of the border.

“Bet Jorge was as thrilled about that arrangement as my team.”

“Well, we can always delegate to our deputies whenever necessary. One of the perks of being promoted.”

It had taken Horacio five years under Félix’s watchful eye – and decades of experience – to be granted the title of farm manager. Then, Félix had retired the previous year, satisfied he had picked the right man as his successor and Jorge as deputy.

Horacio still had plenty to learn and likely always would with the constant conveyor belt of change to farming methods and technology that landed on his desk each month. However, there was a sense of familiarity with certain parts of the job, like the meetings, the paperwork, and the budget constraints. Except, this time, it all came without the funerals, the upper echelons of the CNP breathing down his neck, and the crushing weight of a country’s future on his shoulders.

“And a holiday on the Caribbean coast was necessary, was it?” Now that Javier’s hair was free from sand and shampoo, he turned to face Horacio, their lips almost touching.

Horacio nodded sagely and closed the gap. “A critical business need.”

------------------------------------------------------

Once dried off, they lay in a hammock in matching white towel robes under the thatched porch of their beach house with a perfect view of the sea, moon and stars.

“So, you like it here?” Horacio asked after a comfortable silence.

“It’s beautiful. I’m glad we came back – to see it how it’s meant to be.”

“Me too. Although, I fear violence will always be a parasite latched onto Colombia. Just when you think it’s gone from one place, it rears its head again in another. Or even the same place twice if you’re unlucky.”

Horacio remembered the stories he had heard from Trujillo in the last couple of years – particularly about Operation Orion. Officially, the incursion on Comuna 13 had been a success by the Colombian military against the likes of FARC. Unofficially, however, there were rumours of a leaked CIA report, disappeared individuals, and collusion between an Army General and none other than Don Berna’s subordinate. It was hard to keep faith that Medellín would ever be free from its past when history had such a predictable habit of repeating itself.

“I know. It feels like one step forward and two steps back in the States, too. Terrorism might be the new bogeyman, but re-branding to ICE and throwing a shitload of money at the DHS hasn’t stopped the drugs and the people finding their way over the border.”

Javier had heard directly from Steve about the shift in his job role since 9/11. Overnight, Steve’s whole department was removed from their current caseloads and signed up for every counter-terrorism and narco-terrorism course under the sun. It was now customary for DEA agents to be redeployed to the FBI as intelligence analysts if resources required. And if their eyes and ears were pulled away from the drug traffickers, it didn’t take a genius to figure out the consequences.

Meanwhile, in Texas, if anything, people only took graver risks in the wake of a beefed-up Border Patrol. Javier had spent a lot of the past year helping to set up new aid teams in Arizona and New Mexico, the inhospitable conditions of the desert not enough of a deterrent to stop families trying their luck or handing over their life savings to coyotes who didn’t care whether they made it across alive.

“But small things can add up to change. Bit by bit,” Javier added. “And at least they can’t arrest us for fucking in our own home anymore.”

“True. Not that the law stopped us before...” Horacio nuzzled against Javier’s neck before making a move to get up.

They may have joked in the here and now, but it wasn’t a change they took for granted. In fact, Luz and Carla had even persuaded Javier to attend a protest or two and pay bond and legal fees for those who had been arrested. After all, he’d had plenty of experience exchanging money for people’s freedom.

When news of the Supreme Court decision spread, it was another weight off their backs and one less reason to look over their shoulders, a chance to permanently put to bed memories of being spied on during such unguarded sacred moments. It was the final line to be drawn under those dark years, not to erase them because that was impossible. But it was, at least, closure.

Their cigarette was almost done, and Horacio had left the opened pack on the kitchen counter. Once retrieved, he took out another and leaned into Javier across the hammock, pressing the tip of his unlit cigarette against the lit one until it sparked.

“But you’re right,” Horacio continued, holding Javier’s gaze between exhaling a plume of smoke. He balanced on the edge of the hammock, just enough to stop it tipping sideways. “Things can change. But only if we want them to.” He perched their new cigarette between his lips as he reached into the pocket of his robe.

Their first cigarette was little more than a stub, so Javier stooped down to the ashtray on the floor to extinguish it. Once he sat up again, a small cubed box was presented into his spare hand.

Javier stared at the black box and blew out remnants of smoke, eyeing Horacio with an unreadable expression, an unspoken question and answer lingering between them and the mist of tobacco.

He prised open the box to reveal a ring of plain silver. Or, so he thought at first glance. But as he raised it towards the moon, the iridescent light caught on the inner band to reveal an inscription.

Suerte que encontré a mi media naranja.

(Lucky that I found my soulmate.)

“Fuck, Horacio…” Javier’s voice was strained, and his words came out as little more than a whisper. He held the ring between his thumb and forefinger, letting the ethereal reflection from above capture each word.

Horacio watched every shift in Javier’s face with bated breath and a dry throat, his limbs lead and weightless all at once.

“The world’s changing around us,” Horacio said at last; swallowing his nerves and summoning his courage. “But no matter what the law or courts say in any state or country, this can mean whatever we want it to mean.”

Javier’s jaw worked back and forth, his teeth clamping down on the inside of his cheeks. But it was no use, and he let out a trembling scoff, an attempt to distract from the shining pupils he finally confronted Horacio with.

And then a broad smile crept across Javier’s features, his palm connecting with Horacio’s cheek before he plucked the cigarette from his fingers and took a drag. “Pass me my jeans.”

It took Horacio a moment to process Javier’s request. Of all the responses he had prepared for – the good and the bad – that hadn’t been on his list, funnily enough. With narrowed eyes and pursed lips, he complied and fetched the jeans that had been flung over a sun lounger when they stripped off to swim earlier. Apparently, regardless of how humid the climate in Tolú became, denim remained a reliable staple of Javier’s wardrobe.

“Check my left pocket.”

Whatever Javier was up to, Horacio was torn between intrigue and irritation at Javier’s temerity to issue orders despite leaving him hanging. But he did as he was told, and in an instant, everything made sense.

“I can always take it back if you’d prefer…”

But Horacio was already opening the near-identical box, and any teasing faded to white noise as he came face-to-face with the gold equivalent of his own proposal.

“Hold it up to the light.”

The night sky was brighter now, making it easier for the inscription to be revealed.

Mi amor, mi vida, mi hogar, mi vaquero. Siempre tuyo.

(My love, my life, my home, my cowboy. Yours always.)

It was Javier’s turn to observe, and it didn’t take long for Horacio to raise a brow in his direction, shooting him a look of feigned exasperation that only came with the territory of a relationship as enduring as theirs.

“What?” Javier said with disingenuous innocence and a vulpine smile.

It was a contagious kind of smile, one that reminded Horacio they were equals in this and that he shouldn’t have been surprised Javier had the same idea.

“I take it my mother showed you her ring?”

“On my first visit to Manizales. It was beautiful. And so’s this.”

“As is this.”

“I like to think I put my own spin on it.”

“You did.”

They sat side-by-side on the hammock, legs facing towards each other with the rings held in their outstretched hands.

Javier’s thumb slid across Horacio’s left palm, tracing patterns over new callouses born from hard labour rather than war. He circled his wrist, waiting for the familiar rhythm but finding a beat that was, unsurprisingly, drumming quicker than usual.

After subduing with his touch, Javier retrieved the gold band, gliding it carefully onto Horacio’s ring finger, easing it over the knuckle until it rested snugly at the base.

They sat transfixed, marvelling at the light dancing across it as Horacio’s thumb ran back and forth over the curved surface in fascination.

Horacio repeated the ritual of mapping Javier’s left hand, lacing their fingers together as a tangible reminder of their bond. Their devotion. Their vow. Their choice. Whether the law honoured it one day or not.

He picked up the silver to his gold, shimmying it along Javier’s ring finger and passing beyond the slight resistance at his knuckle. Not too much force, but firm enough for it to sink perfectly into place.

With palms connected and fingers interlocked, their foreheads met, chests rising and falling in tandem.

“Te amo tanto, Javier.”

“Yo también te amo. Tanto, Horacio. Tanto.” Javier whispered, over and over in Horacio’s ear like a prayer – their prayer – before brushing his lips above Horacio’s brow, the bridge of his nose, both cheeks and down to his mouth, creating their own sign of the cross with each kiss. A new beginning and a welcome home.

They untied their robes and collapsed onto the hammock in a tangle of limbs, silver and gold melding at their chests and hands; their past, present and future as inseparable as their hearts, bodies and souls.

With one smooth motion, Horacio pinned Javier’s arms down into the netting of the hammock, a dark, hungry gaze passing between them as cool metal fused with hot skin.

15 years and several lifetimes may have gone by. But when Horacio had the man he loved, the man who loved him, his media naranja, underneath him, only one word ran through his head. Mine.

Old habits die hard, he supposed.

[cbk1000]

Hey, so kind of a general writing/not been on tumblr much update (because apparently I'm so perpetually online people will ask me if I'm ok after a few days of me not posting as much lmao): I have been having some health issues. I haven’t really mentioned them aside from updating a couple people I talk to daily on why I've been so quiet because a.) I felt too poorly to do anything other than marathon sitcoms I've seen a bazillion times, and b.) I didn't know what was going on.

The tl; dr is that, after getting diagnosed with strep throat a few weeks ago, and feeling mostly normal aside from some minor irritation in my throat, I started feeling horribly weak and overall just fucking terrible, and I was having bad tachycardia. Like a heart rate in the high 130s just standing, and a sitting heart rate of like 110 (my normal resting heart rate is in the low 70s). Three trips to the ER later, a bunch of normal labs and cardiac tests, and my boss (ER nurse for 20 years) pushing for an echo, and I finally got a diagnosis of pericarditis, which is inflammation of the sac around your heart. It's most commonly caused by viruses. The ER doc suspects my strep throat was misdiagnosed and I had a virus that caused the inflammation of my heart, although I think bacterial infections can sometimes cause it as well. I've been put on high dose ibuprofen and some acid reflux meds to protect my stomach while I'm on such a high dose of ibuprofen, and I have to take it easy for at least the next week and then be careful and play it by ear. I have been too weak to even sit up much for the past several days and cannot stand for very long, which is infuriating as someone who does one-armed push-ups for funsies.

Anyway, all this is to say, I'm still alive, the next chapter of Book of Merthur (for any of you following it) was coming along just fine but for obvious reasons is a bit postponed now. I'll probably be off work all next week again and hopefully will feel strong enough to get in a bit of writing. (And for any readers about to say, 'Oh my God, don't worry about that, take care of yourself!!' I am literally gnashing my teeth to go back to writing and am furious that my last week or so has consisted of me being too exhausted even to read. I've been marathoning sitcoms I've seen a bazillion times, I'm not even much of a TV watcher, and I'm going crazy. Yesterday I lifted two books to get to the one I wanted underneath them, and was so exhausted I went straight back to bed. THEY WERE PAPERBACKS. AND NOT WAR AND PEACE PAPERBACKS.)

[ros3ybabe]

Do you have any study tips for people who find it hard to concentrate for long periods of time, or just struggle to even sit down and focus?

Hi! I'm so sorry for the late answer, I've been busy with classwork, curating my schedule for the next few weeks, and just life in general.

I myself struggle to sit down and focus and have trouble concentrating for long periods of time. Everyone works differently and some things may not be helpful to everyone, just a disclaimer!

Something I do that really helps me is to have a set "ritual" I do every time I need to or at least know I need to do school work or productive things that I personally want to do.

My current "ritual" includes the following, in order:

Make a cup of my preferred drink (currently iced coffee with one sweet n low and French vanilla creamer) + grab a glass or bottle of water

Set out all my necessary materiales (studying ex: textbooks, stationary, technology, planner, etc)

Take a deep breath

Write out a todo list that is managable for what I want/need to accomplish

Flick on my desk lamp

Begin the first step for the first talk (open textbook, go to website, write out note title, etc)

My brain got into the habit of "lamp flicks on, sip of coffee, time to work" and it became very automated.

Lately, I've tried to spread out my necessary tasks out throughout a week (within necessary due dates) with daily planning for flexibility of my schedule and whatever things pop up. I believe being flexible with scheduling tasks helps a lot because sometimes I have more energy on some days than others, and other times, I need to allocate energy to other priorities.

For concentrating for long periods of time, I try to figure out my limits, and do whatever I can to work with myself and not against myself. I have severe unmedicated ADHD (as well as other things mentally) and I've learned to listen to my brain and body as best I can.

I can not concentrate if my phone is not near me or within eyesight when I study. I will be too preoccupied thinking about my phone and any missed notifications if I can't see my phone. Answering texts and calls while doing homework does not interfere with my productivity as it takes me a few seconds to type out a message and hit send or answer a call and listen/explain that I'm busy. (it's usually my dad who calls me, and I have no problem stopping my work to talk to my dad).

I need caffiene to give me that push to start. Once I taste my coffee, I know it's time to crack down on my assignments and start focusing on my work.

Background noise!! Very rarely can I listen to music when working at home, so I usually have a comfort show or some youtube video playing in the background while I do work. When I'm on campus, I listen to a specific playlist while doing schoolwork, usually more mellow music like Lana Del Ray, The Neighborhood, Chase Atlantic, MARINA, Mitski, Arctic Monkeys, Mother Mother, Cigarettes After Sex, beebadoobee, Taylor Swift etc. I normally listen to K-pop, but my favorite songs are too upbeat for getting work done.

I try not to watch the clock or set a timer because I never really know how long some assignments will take and if I'm watching the time pass I tend to get anxious and then my mind will wander from the task at hand.

Water!! I have to remind myself all the time, but having water at my desk or study area keeps me hydrated, which keeps me focused and awake.

I try not to eat big meals right before I do work. If I do eat something substantial before I need to work, I always wait 30 to 60 minutes so I can perk back up and properly focus on my work.

Never push past my physical energy limits. If I'm falling asleep at my desk, if I'm yawning uncontrollably, if my body feels heavy with fatigue, I will not push myself past exhaustion as that is no longer healthily productive.

Sleep is a priority!! If I'm sleepy and tired and groggy, I can't work properly. When I'm low on sleep, I also tend to over do the caffiene and overeat, which makes me both uncontrollably anxious and shaky while also making me more lethargic, thus inhibiting my work ability.

Listening to my body and learning how I work best has been the most helpful in my concentration and productivity abilities. I know when I'm feeling off, how to determine what I need in order to feel more regulated and functional. Good, healthy habits and a little self intuition go a long way for me.

I hope this was helpful in some way. I didn't want to give generic or basic tips because this is not a one size fits all topic. I'm open to any other questions!!

Til next time, lovelies!! 🩷

[ellatoone7]

Blushing Mess (Ella Toone x Reader)

You didn't mean for it to happen, it just kind of did. You have known Ella all your life, you went to school together, played soccer together and have been on countless of family holidays together.

You were best friends always have been. So, why now did the universe decide to make you fall in love with her.

"You won't even believe what happened today!" Ella's voice snapped you out of it as you were brought back to your current conversation. Your daily FaceTime calls where the highlight of your days while Ella was in camp for the past few weeks.

"I swear if your eyelashes fell out again. I told you not to go back to that place!"

You had warned Ella to go get her eyelashes done somewhere else after the last time. You could not handle another week of her complaining about her bare lashes.

"Nope, the eyelashes are still intact and beautiful, thank you very much!" You giggled as she batted her eyelashes right in front of the camera, "Alright I've seen enough of them! Tell me the news,”

Ella began her rant about something one of the girls did in camp but you found yourself mesmerised by your best friend, her words falling on deaf ears as you stare at her pretty face through your phone.

You knew Ella was pretty-she's your best friend after all but after being rudely awakened to the fact that you were in love with her changed that meaning.

Everything you loved about her felt magnified by a million. Watching her play for England gives you butterflies and your heart hurts with how much pride fills it.

You were never bitter that Ella took football the whole way. You adored the sport and were very good at it but you never wanted to play at a higher level. Other interests took over your life while Ella put her whole heart and soul into the game.

"—Leah had to pretend to tell us off even though it was her who planned the whole thing and-are you even listening?!"

You swear your heart stopped when you saw Ella's pout as she waits for your acknowledgment-she does eventually get it, it's just not what she expects.

"You're so cute.

You didn't even have time to think about your words as they tumbled past your lips. You watch in horror as your best friends eyes widen.

"What did you just say?" Ella's shocked voice sounds through the speakers making you panic more than you ever have with the striker.

Thinking fast you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind -it was probably the stupidest thing you've ever said.

"I said you look like a boot." Ella's shocked face morphs into one of confusion as she silently processes your words and the bright red blush spreading across your face.

"-I look like a boot..." You want to throw yourself down multiple flights of stairs. Out of everything you could've said you decided to go with that.

Desperately trying to save yourself you lunge into an explanation, "Yeah.yes! It's the--Well your face is kind of-you just.." This painfully continues for a few minutes before Ella decided to put you out of your misery, quite literally.

"You always look cute." Ella's heart sped up a little as she tried to gauge your reaction but you just stared at your screen with your jaw hanging open.

"Can you repeat that?" You manage to get out while it was Ella's turn to blush. No matter how uncomfortable Ella felt right now she wasn't denying the statement as she confidently clears her throat, "I said-you always look cute."

The smile that took over your face nearly had Ella racing down to get a taxi back home.

No more was said of the topic after that but the unspoken confession settled in the air as you talked about other things.

And if either you or Ella saw the blushes on the others face you didn't say anything about it. You didn't know what was in store for the two of you but you did know one thing—

You couldn't wait for Ella to get home.

[kfedup]

Mondaying

Ginger is struggling today. Typically on weekdays she gets to spend a few hours with Bowie at my ex's house. This weekend we put Bowie down. His cancer progressed very quickly over the last few weeks and it was past time. Chris found an incredible retired vet couple who came to the house and helped make it all so kind and normal. Ginger was there and got to sniff him before and after, but she also has limited object permanence and misses her time with her buddy. We all do, sweet girl. We all do.

I really struggled with it. I think I'm through the worst of it, but holy shit I was not expecting how this would bring up so many feelings about my marriage ending. Fuck off, it's been 9 years already. But I realized that I haven't actually cried much about it and hoo boy, this last week has been a real soaker. I once again need to thank Peter Gabriel for opening something in me that's been locked up for years with his amazing i/o concert.

A huge part of the struggle came from having to share the process with his wife and the energy of ownership she brought with her. I wonder if she struggled with my energy, too. I don't care enough to ask. I don't like her. I've never liked her. And earlier in the week we crossed paths and she complained about him to me in a way that seemed like she wanted me to commiserate with her. Over the man she... well... anyway, I'm ready to stop telling that story, so I'll start now and just say some people are too dumb for words.

I just got back from my bi-annual primary care well visit and my doctor and I both agree that I'm doing amazing, sweetie. Most of the long covid shit has finally begun to clear. I'm still having a hard time with cardio/heart rate issues and still getting week-long clusters of ocular migraines, but otherwise, I am better than ever. Coming up on 3 years of sobriety and nearly a year into daily exercise and meditation on top of the long-established dog walks. Sleeping better. Eating slightly less emotionally. Working to bring the meditation practice into the day outside of my sitting time; to walking, cooking, eating, working, listening, talking, or whatever the hell I'm doing in the process of living, is honestly geeking me the fuck out. Planning ahead to do a nice long silent meditation retreat next year.

That said, the wanting/craving for connection is constant. I keep seeing that meme that says something like don't awaken the love in a woman unless you intend to actually work to love her and goddamn. Trying so hard to not be a giant ball of resentment about it, but phew, it realllllly sucks to have someone make the play and then back off.

There's a spectacular golden hour happening right now. We just walked in it for a bit.

What's for dinner? I'm ravenous and I do not want to cook.

Happy Monday, mutuals.

[estellaeinar]

Oblivious

I slowly opened my eyes, looking at the dark wooden ceiling above me, an overwhelming tornado of memories reminded me where I was and what happened. The stabbing pain in my hip helped with it as well, as I noticed the injury wrapped in a bandage, crimson color changing its color from white. I sat on the couch I previously layed on, pulling the blanket off me and my boots hit the ground softly. I looked around the room, the safehouse we were in was in much worse condition than the previous ones we've been to. My eyes then glanced on the ground, and there I saw them, my two squadmates. A wave of comfort washed over me as I looked at one of the person who was in a way responsible for my injury, I didn't think before I jumped straight in front of him, taking the bullet for him.. He shouldn't have brought me comfort, but he did. This is probably the first time I've seen him sleeping in a very long time. He never slept, and when he did, I was there with him.. or so I used to. His mask covering his entire face, I could only make out the soft and relaxed expression on his face despite the circumstances. He breathed softly, and before I knew it, I slightly leaned closer, hoping to catch a glance at his always well hidden and covered face. I saw his chin slightly peeking from under the mask, which I took as a victory, because as much as I hated to admit it, the fact that I still saw his flesh brought odd comforting feeling in me. What I hated to admit the most is that this wouldn't be a victory for me a few weeks ago, as I've seen his face on daily basis. But we're no longer in the past, we're here. Just here.

I used to hate the feeling I had everytime he scolded me for something small, what made him worry for my safety, but right now I'd very much welcome it back. But it was too late now. Too late. I still think of that night where you insisted on leaving me, not because you were sick of having me around, having to pretend like we're not a thing, no.. You left cause you said you're not the right person for me, like you don't deserve me.. And it might be the little anger I feel inside that's telling me, what stopped you for trying to deserve me, then? What stopped you for accepting the fact that you truly deserve love and happiness..? But my paranoid part also thinks that it was all an act.. That you didn't actually love me, that I was just a game and you felt guilty about having to play it by your rules. But, you know.. I'd adjust, for you. Like I always did. And you always told me it's not necessary, that I'm good the way I am, that I am perfect the way I am.. And I believed you. I did, I really felt accepted for the first time in my life. That's why my heart shatters just at the thought of it potentially being an act.. But you were never the person to hurt a close one, right..? Or maybe you didn't realise you hurt people, because you no longer had anyone you cared about. I don't know what it was, but I still blame myself. I should've tried harder, I should've done something.. But also, why me? Haven't I done enough for you? Haven't I helped you enough..? Maybe you really are what you said you are, a cold, mean monster. How come you're out there, saving lives and then you're here, ruining mine..? Despite all of this, I truly loved you. And I still do. Why..? Cause it's you. You made me feel things I never imagined I thought I could feel. You made me realise that there are reasons to fight. You made me addicted to you, to your presence, your voice..

..or maybe you decided it's better to leave because it will all end soon anyway, all of this.. You said it yourself, you never know when is the last breath you will take. Maybe this was an escapism, for the both of us. Maybe the problem was that I forgot to take my rose- colored glasses off, or maybe the problem was the fact that you were the one who gave them to me in the first place.. Maybe it was because you tried to make me happy, to make me believe all the fairytales were real, even if it was just for a bit..

But after a while, I came to realise that all you tried to do, was to make me believe that not everything was lost, that not everything was wrong as it seemed.. Only later I came to the realisation that you made me forget, that we're all just two broken pieces, in a shattered world.

[theworldvsyoshiko]

Although that does remind me, I've been meaning to post about it for a while now, and I've got some free time and energy tonight, so...

I think it's not going to be surprising to anyone if I say that The Dancing Flock is effectively over at this point. The big issue, which I kinda mentioned: some of the mods updated, and they busted some stuff in the process. I actually played several sessions past my last update, but they were all in a separate save file while I messed around with mods trying to get it stable again. I never quite managed that.

But, even before that point, I'd been thinking about cutting it short, for several reasons:

By that point I'd been playing Rimworld daily and documenting it for 3 months, and I'd kinda gotten my fill of the game for the time being.

Like I said before, the win condition was... problematic. Even after gifting the colony's huge hoard of silver and befriending a pile of factions overnight, I was only a bit past halfway through my goal of world peace by allying with everyone.

And related, once the colony was stable, the moment-to-moment gameplay was... kinda dull. I couldn't do much to work toward peace; I basically had to wait for people to attack and then capture them. Building the giant lavish compound was a good long-term project, since it required a ton of resources. Once it was built, though, there was only so much I could upgrade that felt actually meaningful. Like, sure, I could've bartered for weeks to get enough gold to put a golden statue in every bedroom, but it wouldn't have changed anything or been particularly satisfying. The Hospitality stuff lent some variety now and then, but most Hospitality guests just kinda wandered in, claimed a bedroom, and then spent a few days hanging around and smoking joints.

And yet, at the same time that they were too comfortable and well-established, the colony was also uselessly inept at fighting. Remember the bear incident? I never actually finished that, because my well-established, fortified, late-game colony couldn't actually handle 7-8 angry bears. Nonlethal weapons just do not scale to late game well, especially if you're committed to the 'nonlethal' part and thus also not building traps or anything. I had the enemy spawn rates turned way down by the end, and it was still iffy at times. This also undermined the group's commitment to taking in everybody who came by looking for help, because every single fight was a gigantic slog toward the end.

Related to #3, once the colony was well-established, there wasn't much to talk about compared to Yoshiko and Umeko. The pacifist bent also rules out a lot of sidequests that involve going out into the world, because a lot of them give pacifists huge mood penalties even if you don't kill anyone. I was avoiding fights on top of that because of the tedious nature of nonlethal combat. Josefin bravely helped with this issue by being a pathetic little lizard creature, but she can only do so much. I had a couple of sessions where I'd play for two hours and come away with nothing much to report, because everyone had spent that time mass-producing hats and sculptures in between hanging out in the hot tub. Which seems like a great way to spend time, but isn't necessarily eventful.

So, I guess they're gonna settle into a long and peaceful life of giving each other blowjobs on the floor of their personal dance club, but offscreen.

Once the Anomaly DLC has been out for long enough to have really robust mod support, I'll probably grab it and start messing around with it, so there are good odds that'll lead to something new.

[epersonae]

The Cooking Project: an introduction

So I've posted quite a bit about my issues with executive dysfunction around cooking, which started the summer before Ryn died and have lingered since then. I've tried a few things to break through it, with limited success.

Then: I was talking to some friends recently and we got talking about "grandma recipes". (See also: @triflesandparsnips' work with soaps and lip balms etc.) In that conversation, I realized again both that I have a lot of cooking knowledge, actually, and that I have my own little collection of that sort of recipes.

I've watched food tv since long before food network existed, and I love figuring out and understanding how cooking works. And I have both a stack of index cards accrued over the years, and an actual binder of print-outs and magazine clippings etc etc, some of which date back almost 30 years at this point.

And then I looked at those cards, and OMG, there's so many that aren't quite complete recipes, including a few that don't even say what they are, plus a few that I've never made. The binder, too, is a mix of things I used to make all the time, and some that were purely aspirational.

wait, what are you doing?

So I'm trying this thing where I make something from my collection, and make some notes about it. (Yeah, I'm doing ye olde food blogging, what of it.) The idea is to get back into regular cooking not as self-care or maintenance or overhauling my daily life or whatever, but by exploring an old special interest, and enjoying the play of it.

the first recipe: key lime pie from tumblr

At the suggestion of one of these friends, I started with a recipe that I found here on Tumblr, at some point I don't remember when, that I've never made: key lime pie. (Apologies for no link, but I literally have no idea what post it was or even when I wrote it down.)

Recipe text, transcribed:

12 oz can sweetened cond. milk 3 egg yolks 1/2 c key lime juice

mix until smooth heat oven to 350F, prebake graham cracker crust for 15 min pour in filling, bake 15 min cool 30 min on counter, then in fridge for 4hrs - overnight

Notes:

sweetened condensed milk only comes in 14oz cans now. I did some math, and increased the lime juice by one tablespoon.

the recipe as I wrote it didn't say what size pie crust. I bought a 9" and I think an 8" would have been a better choice. the ratio of crust to filling was off and the outer edge was frankly silly looking.

I have, in the past, made graham cracker crust from scratch. it's pretty easy, but also premade pie crust, sure why not.

the prebaking was definitely too long, and it ended up tasting a little burnt. I'd do more like 10 minutes max next time.

I started preheating the oven before I mixed the ingredients, because I know how long it takes my oven to preheat.

if I had the experience, I think I would have made a meringue with the egg whites. maybe next time I'll try it.

I added the info about increasing lime juice, the crust size, and baking timing to my card for future reference.

Final thoughts

I would make it again! The filling was tart and creamy, a nice contrast to the crust, and I've always loved key lime pie. Very easy, tasty, and I've added the key parts of my notes to the back of the card.

Update, a couple of weeks later: ended up freezing two slices, will see if they're good unfrozen. (I have a soft spot for terrible frozen key lime pie slices.)

[love3velyn]

Spring Reset 🌷💌🌿🧸

Hello everyone! The past few months have been difficult since I moved to university. I've been feeling so run down and not myself recently but spring is a time for new beginnings! I'm back home for the easter holidays so I'm looking forward to spending the next few weeks relaxing and taking things slowly. I wanted to share a few ways I plan to spend some time on myself and reset for spring!

Spend time in nature

Spring is such a beautiful time, with daffodils appearing and trees blossoming. With the weather warming up it is the perfect time to take a gentle walk or ride your bike. Even spending time in a park or your garden can make all the difference on your mood.

Reading

I find getting involved in a story is such a lovely way to unwind from daily stresses. Recently I've been reading the Once Upon a Broken Heart series and I've been loving it so far! I also enjoy reading self-help books to get out of a rut and feel motivated again. Atomic Habits has been my current read and it's helping me plan new routines.

Set/check in on goals

Take this time off to reflect on how the year has been going so far, have you been keeping up with your New Year's resolutions? if not don't worry it's the perfect time to set new goals. It's never too late! Taking time out to slow down and reflect can be so helpful to realign yourself with who you want to be. I like journaling prompts and watching goal-setting videos on YouTube to help guide and motivate me!

Create a vision board

Following on from the last suggestion, creating a vision board is a lovely way to check your goals and create a vision of your dream life. I think it's such a fun and creative way to motivate yourself! I like to use Canva and Pinterest for my vision boards and I will look for quotes or pictures that I feel represent how I want my year to go. I find being very intentional about what you include makes them more meaningful. This year I am trying to make one for each season.

Plan quality time with family and friends

Since moving to university I have treasured time with my friends and family even more. This easter I am making time for my loved ones and catching up with old friends. Some of my favourite plans are watching a film/series together, playing board games or going on a walk. Taking time away from screens to properly catch up can be so important to show how much you care. If you are far away from friends or family arranging a call, sending a letter or playing a game online can be just as thoughtful! I would recommend Stardew Valley to anyone looking for a cosy spring game to play with friends.

Re-arrange/ decorate your room

A spring clean can be a lovely way to refresh your environment and feel motivated again. Life can be so busy that we forget to take care of our environment too. Taking out some time to declutter or rearrange your space can be so nice and give a new sense of energy to your room without having to spend lots of money.

Reset my sleep routine

I have some bad sleeping habits I've picked up over the school year so each night I am gradually pushing forward when I go to sleep and when I wake up by half an hour to gently get back to sleeping at a reasonable time.

Take time for yourself

It's important to remember that a holiday is there for a reason! It is so important to have time to relax and do whatever you enjoy, whether having a lay-in, a movie night or playing video games! Not everything you do needs to be productive and having downtime can bring so many benefits like reducing stress and making you more productive when you start working again.

I hope this post could give you some ideas for your own spring reset and I hope you have a lovely easter!

Love, Evelyn x

[canonically-a-genloser]

platonic!Ranboo x reader blurb!! end of the school year drabble thingy yippee :D

this is the first one I've done in a while, for those of you who may not have seen my update a few weeks ago it's been a ride but I'm learning how to be productive again and I'm very proud of myself today despite some stress I went through, I'm working towards getting my life back on track :]

ANYWAYS ENOUGH OF MY RAMBLES AND ON WITH THE FIC/HEADCANONS/WHATEVER THIS MAY END UP BEING, REMEMBER TO STAY HYDRATED AS WELL AS YOU'RE ABLE AND REMEMBER YOU ARE LOVED <3

no pronouns for reader are used besides you/yours!

"Y/n!" Ranboo called from behind you, evidently out of breath from running.

You turned to face them, forgetting for a moment how tall they really were. They had grown a lot physically the past year, you thought vaguely as you made eye contact with them.

"Hey," they said, far more quietly than they had been speaking. "So it's summer now, huh?" They paused for a breath. "Never thought I'd miss.. y'know.." he waved at the school. "Anyway. It's just- I don't think I'll be coming back."

Your heart nearly stopped. "What?"

"It's not bad, it's not bad."

You couldn't stop yourself from thinking of every possibility as they paused, seemingly trying to figure out how to explain.. whatever this was to you. Was he okay? Were they going to move? Change schools?

"So- remember the restaurant jobs that kinda just all fell through?" they asked in a low tone.

You nodded hesitantly. What would that have to do with school-

"I've started.. kind of a job? Like- yeah, it's a job, I'm just-" they paused and sighed. "I started making YouTube videos. And- it's doing like, really unbelievably well."

A moment of silence reigned. They looked anxiously into your eyes, silently begging you to react.

"It's okay," you said, putting a hand on their arm in an attempt at comforting them. "It's just- you're sure it's enough that you won't need to come back?"

They nodded, sure of themselves this time. "It is. I know that much."

You started walking slowly, barely registering where you were headed. They really weren't coming back to school, then. They just didn't need it. There wouldn't be anything to look forward to next school year. You wouldn't see them on the daily next year. You wouldn't get to sit in the library together during study hall anymore. You wouldn't get to play Sticks with them during boring classes. You wouldn't get to make dumb jokes at each other over nothing anymore.

You should've had two more years.

You should've had your best friend right there with you until the two of you graduated and after that, even.

"Hey," their voice broke into your thoughts. "You're not mad, right?"

You looked up at them, tears you hadn't noticed before ready to spill down your cheeks. "No, no, I'm not mad, never mad, just-" you couldn't look them in the eyes anymore. You barely trusted your voice to crack. "I'm gonna miss you. So, so much."

Their arms wrapped around you almost instantly. It was warmth, it was love, it was home, you didn't want him to let go-

"Y/n," they said in the most gentle tone you'd ever heard them use, "this doesn't mean you and me are gonna change, okay? I know this is a lot. I'm scared too. Just please.. try to trust me? We can keep in touch and everything, this doesn't mean we'll never see each other," they reassured you. "Maybe I could introduce you to some of my new friends? I don't mind streaming with you," they offered.

You looked up, a playful smile barely beginning to break through the tears. "It's a deal then," you said. "I'm still making you help with Spanish homework though."

A half-pretend groan escaped the taller as the two of you began walking towards the bus for the last time that spring.

have a picture of ranbaba with the unedited unproofread fic

it's late and this took longer than anticipated but I love you all <3 I'm just gonna post this and add tags later :] goodnight gamers!!

[weirdkpopgirl]

Café Love | Jaemin Fic #2

Title: Café Love

Genre: Fluff, Barista AU

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, alcohol, cancer

Word Count: ~2.3k

Author's Note: This is just something I've been working on the past week. I am a part-time barista, so I got a little inspiration for this story. My friend also helped me come up with half of this, so I credit her great ideas. I really hope you guys like this. Thank you for reading ^ - ^

∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘°∘♡∘

Ever since freshman year of college started, Kim (Y/n) found herself in three places. The campus building where she attended classes, her apartment where she studied and recharged from social overstimulation, and the part-time job at Cafe 7 she had gotten two summers ago.

(Y/n) honestly enjoyed being a barista. Not so much the interacting-with-customers part. It was more of the soft music that played in the background and the aroma of coffee beans she had grown to like. Having friendly coworkers was also a plus.

“Hey, (Y/n)!” Jaemin waved from behind the counter when he saw her coming through the entrance. She smiled and shyly waved back.

Jaemin was one of those friendly coworkers. When they met a few months ago, (Y/n) was a little intimidated by his charismatic personality. But after getting to know him, she came to see that he was a pretty interesting person. 

Early on, she learned he was a college dropout who would be in the year above her if he hadn’t. He loved coffee and drank two to three cups with four extra shots daily. On his off days, he enjoyed photography and often liked to take pictures of his friends.

The two of them exchanged small talk until their other coworker, Hyejin came, allowing Jaemin to get off his shift. He usually worked in the morning on weekdays while (Y/n) took the closing shifts because of school.

Jaemin often noticed the tiredness in her eyes, whether she had stayed up too late studying or was drained from class. Nonetheless, she still came nearly every day, ready to work.

A few minutes after he clocked out, he realized he forgot his phone. Just as he reentered the cafe, he spotted (Y/n) and Hyejin behind the counter. (Y/n) was preparing a customer’s order, while Hyejin was talking to her. 

Not wanting to eavesdrop, he headed to the back and grabbed his phone to leave again. But he stopped in his tracks when he heard his name mentioned.

“Na Jaemin, is kinda cute don’t you think?” He heard Hyejin say. “He seems like your ideal type.”

(Y/n) hated how her cheeks immediately flushed at Hyejin’s comment. What she said wasn’t necessarily wrong. For one thing, Jaemin was one of those rare guys who was genuinely kind. He was introverted, which sparked many conversations about their quiet lifestyles. He also had a lovely smile.

Even though (Y/n) wasn’t too experienced (or at all) in the field of dating, Jaemin was everything she could hope for in a guy. Yet—as much as the thought of him made her heart flutter, a sense of discouragement came with it.

“Yeah he is. But I don’t think it would work out.” (Y/n) shook her head, as she poured steamed milk into a cup with espresso. 

“Why do you say that?”

She reached for a lid and cup holder. “I just…can’t see why a guy would like me. Much less someone like Na Jaemin.”

“What are you talking about?” Hyejin scoffed in disbelief. “There’s so many things to like about you—”

But (Y/n) quickly interrupted and handed Hyejin the drink she just made. “No, there really isn’t. Now, can you deliver this to the girl over there?”

A frown etched on Jaemin’s face, upset by what he heard. (Y/n)’s words stuck with him the rest of the day. Frankly, he’s liked her for quite some time now. In the beginning, she was very reserved and only spoke to him when necessary. But once she warmed up, he thought of (Y/n) as a bundle of everything soft and cute in the world.

He loved the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about. He liked the sweet tone she used when telling customers to have a good day before they left. His heart always did flip-flops whenever she hummed to certain songs that played in the cafe.

“You’re so whipped,” Jeno teased, after listening to Jaemin’s rant back at home.

Jaemin’s feet kicked on the bed. “I just don’t understand! Why would she think that I wouldn’t like her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe you should try showing her you do,” Jeno shrugged.

He let his best friend’s words sink into his head. The suggestion didn’t sound too bad.  If he wanted (Y/n) to know his true feelings, showing was better than telling right?

So following Jeno’s advice, Jaemin became determined to prove (Y/n) wrong. His official plan to pursue her was formed.

He practically had to beg their manager, Johnny, to put him and (Y/n) together for more shifts. It took some convincing, but the tall male eventually gave in.

“(Y/n)-ah!” He called, standing by the espresso machine.

“Yeah?”

He picked up the slip of receipt paper with a customer’s order on it and scratched his head. “I forgot how to make a matcha frappe. Can you show me?”

(Y/n) sighed and shook her head before grabbing the bottle of matcha from the fridge. 

“Haven’t you been working here longer than me? How did you forget?” She lightly scolded.

In response, Jaemin smiled brightly at her. “Luckily, I have a beautiful, smart coworker to help me out.”

He didn’t miss the shade of pink that was dusted across her cheeks. But she tried to play it off and cleared her throat before asking him to hand her a measuring cup. 

After that day, there were several other occurrences where (Y/n) would find herself in a flustered state. Na Jaemin was seriously driving her crazy. Receiving compliments from him wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. But recently, (Y/n) felt like he was doing it on a different level.

After closing, Johnny would say “Good job today, guys!” 

Jaemin would then add, “Especially our (Y/n)-i~!”

The days passed and Jaemin’s flirtations continued. 

One day he would be like, “That sweater looks nice on you, (Y/n)-ssi. The color compliments your skin!”

Another time he said, “I like the way you styled your hair today! You should wear it like that more often.”

Every day they worked together, he somehow managed to say something to make her blush profusely. But the more he did it, the more (Y/n) found herself appreciating his kind words. For someone who was constantly overthinking, Jaemin’s encouragement was reassuring.

“(Y/n), try this!” He handed her a glass containing a red-colored beverage. 

Business was slow today, and only two customers were here. So Jaemin was fooling around, making random drinks.

She raised an eyebrow. “Why don’t you try it?”

“I don’t like strawberries,” He said plainly.

Convinced by his excuse, (Y/n) reluctantly took a sip of the smoothie. He watched as her eyes widened with delight.

“It’s good!” She gave him a thumbs up in approval.

(Y/n) placed the beverage down and glanced over to the people sitting near the window. Her smile slowly began to fade as she watched the girl feed the guy a piece of cake. They looked at each other with so much endearment. 

“They look cute, don’t you think?” She gestured to their table. “The couple over there.”

  “Why do you sound so sad when saying that?” Jaemin asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know…I kinda wish I had what they had. But I know that could never happen to me.”

He tilted his head in confusion.“What do you mean?”

(Y/n)’s gaze shifted over to Jaemin, looking at him with slight hesitation. She bit her lip, contemplating whether to be truthful. It was Jaemin at the end of the day. He wouldn’t judge her, right?

“I’ve struggled with anxiety all of my life.” Her eyes rested on her folded hands on the counter. It sounded as if she was embarrassed by this confession. Jaemin could tell this was a hard topic for her to talk about. 

“And it stops me from doing a lot of things,” (Y/n) continued, “I’ve never been in a relationship. But if I were, I fear I’d just end up becoming a burden to that person.”

What she said next made Jaemin’s heart hurt. She turned to look at him, wearing a sad smile. “Honestly, I can’t imagine why a person would love me.”

This was probably the most real she’s ever been with someone. She wasn’t exactly sure why she was telling Jaemin all this. It felt scary, after being used to hiding this part of herself.

Jaemin went silent, pondering on what to say. She began to worry, afraid she had overshared.

“I’m sorry for telling you this—”

“A person doesn't need a reason to love, they just do,” Jaemin then said. 

He took a step closer, where the two faced each other. Their shoes almost touched. The compassion pouring from his eyes made her heart beat faster.

“You deserve to be loved, Kim (Y/n),” He spoke softly. “Even if you don’t think so.”

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

That moment with Jaemin kept replaying in (Y/n)’s head. She couldn’t stop thinking about his words, and it was slowly driving her insane.

“It seems like he likes you,” Hyejin said after hearing what happened.

The idea immediately caused (Y/n) to shake her head in denial. “What? No, it can’t be—”

But Hyejin cut her off. “You seriously don’t know guys, (Y/n)-ah. Giving compliments, making drinks for you, and saying sappy sweet stuff? Those are all signs that he likes you!”

Was she that oblivious? The possibility of Jaemin actually liking her never crossed her mind. This whole time, (Y/n) thought he was just being a nice senior. 

“You really think so?” (Y/n) asked, still a little unsure.

Hyejin nodded, “But the real question is, do you like him too?”

Thinking back to what her coworker said, (Y/n) recalled all the time she experienced this strange feeling whenever she was around Jaemin. He truly was a kindhearted person. She didn’t think she'd ever met a man as sincere as him.

But just as (Y/n) was slowly accepting her feelings for Jaemin, the boy’s sweet acts toward her stopped. He barely talked during shifts and kept to himself. (Y/n) started to think that maybe Hyejin was wrong. Maybe he was just playing with her.

However, (Y/n) suspected that wasn’t it when he started missing days of work. And she began to understand the saying “absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

Unable to sleep one night, (Y/n) left her apartment and dropped by the convenience store. Having a drink sounded like a good idea to get her mind off things. She didn’t expect to see the very boy occupying her thoughts, sitting outside downing a shot of soju.

“Jaemin?”

Instantly his head turned to (Y/n) who cautiously approached his table. She noticed his eyes were slightly red. Had he been crying?

“Oh (Y/n) sorry, I didn’t see you there.” He swiped his eyes, pretending as if everything was normal.

But (Y/n) wasn’t fooled by the fake smile he wore. She sat down in the empty chair beside him. He reached for the green bottle to pour another glass for himself. But she placed her hand over his, stopping him.

“Jaemin-ssi…what’s wrong?” She asked gently.

He sucked in a breath and looked down. He didn’t want to bother (Y/n) with his problems. But he had been holding so much in, that he was on the verge of exploding if he didn’t tell someone.

“My mom has stomach cancer, stage four,” Jaemin swallowed.

Her jaw dropped slightly at this. She didn’t know what to say. “Jaemin, I…I’m so sorry.”

“I’m such a bad son,” He lamented, pressing his knuckles against his temple. “I should’ve known something was wrong. I should’ve been taking more care of her.”

Seeing Jaemin look so utterly broken made (Y/n) want to take away all his pain. She could only imagine what he was going through.

“Jaemin, your mom being sick isn’t your fault. It was out of your control,” She said, squeezing his hand.

The boy shook his head. “It’s not just that though.”

He started to tell her about how throughout his childhood, his mom worked as a single parent and had a tteokbokki stand. She spent so many years, earning money to send her only son off to college. But he didn’t even last a week and instead was working a part-time job.

“Gosh, I’m so worthless!” He clenched the shot glass in his hand, as more tears spilled out of his eyes.

(Y/n) frowned and countered, “Na Jaemin, you are not worthless. So many people think you’re lovely and wonderful. Anyone who has you in their lives is lucky and loves you.”

“Do you?” He glanced up at her with teary eyes.

She didn’t say anything for a few seconds, thinking about his question.

“Honestly, I was worried when you suddenly disappeared,” She quietly admitted. “I guess I got used to you always cheering me on. When I’m with you, I feel like I can be myself without judgment.”

(Y/n) gathered all the courage to meet his eyes once more. “You’ve become the most precious person in my life. So yes…I think I’m in love with you.”

Those three words that just left her mouth were frightening. But they felt that much real. Her heartbeat sped up uncontrollably, and her face was hot. She searched Jaemin’s eyes for a response, wondering if she made a mistake.

But then he leaned over to pull her into a hug, startling her. “Thank you (Y/n) For being the one person in my life that doesn’t mind my flaws.”

Touched by his words, (Y/n) slowly smiled and hugged him back. By the way, he held her tightly, she knew that her feelings were not one-sided.

“Maybe because I have a lot of flaws myself,” She murmured. 

Jaemin slightly pulled out of the hug and smiled at her brightly. He leaned over to place a soft kiss on her forehead.

“And they are perfect.”

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