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onecanonlife · 3 years

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Wilbur wakes up one morning to find white in his hair. This is—irritating, for several reasons, but that’s all it is. An annoyance. A distraction.

There’s nothing deeper at work here. There’s nothing wrong at all.

(Or, the stresses of the presidency give Wilbur a white streak of hair earlier in canon, and somehow, this serves as the cry for help he can never bring himself to make.)

(word count: 6,249)

(first part) (third part) (fourth part)

——————–

Part Two

He tries to pen a letter to Phil. It’s more difficult than he remembers.

Dear Phil, he starts, and that’s good, that’s fine. All is well here in L’Manberg, he continues, and that’s good too. But from there, he’s stumped. What next? What does he tell him about? This is the part where he’d launch into a cute story, something Fundy got up to, or some trouble Tommy caused. But nothing comes to mind. Nothing recent, anyway. But the last letter he sent to Phil was—a month ago? Two, now? So he needs to write, because Phil’s far from a helicopter parent, but he still likes to know what he’s up to. Will still worry, if he gives him a reason to.

So, he needs to finish a letter. Needs to stop procrastinating.

He could write about Niki’s bakery. He can’t remember if he told Phil about it or not. He probably hasn’t, not if it’s truly been that long since his last missive. So he sets his pen to work, scratching out a few more sentences, and he reminds himself that he doesn’t need to be overly verbose. Phil doesn’t need an essay. Just a paragraph or two to assure him that he and everyone else are well, that he’s having fun, that he’s thriving.

Telling him about the bakery will work for that. Except, then, after a bit, he ends up writing, It eases my mind to visit. Truly, it’s one of the only places I let myself relax, and—no. No, that won’t do. That will make him sound as though he’s stressed, and he doesn’t want Phil to worry about that. There’s nothing Phil can do about it, and he couldn’t stand it if the admission led his father to think any less of him. He’s not going to—to start complaining to him. That would be ridiculous.

So he scratches the line out and continues on, except then, he writes, I worry that I’m shirking my responsibilities, but then, I’m probably doing that anyway, simply by virtue of not being, and he stops before he can finish that sentence, because, no. Simply, no. He is absolutely not telling Phil that.

He bites his lip. He’s already scratched out enough that he’ll probably need to start an entirely new draft anyway.

He sets the tip of the pen to paper.

I’m exhausted, he writes, but my mind won’t allow me to rest. Too many shadows in too many dark corners, I suppose. Too many thoughts circling. It’s like a hurricane in my head, and I should be in the eye, but I think the storm wall has caught me. I’m tossing in the air, at the wind’s mercy, and I’m afraid of what will happen when I fall.

I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I ever assumed that I did. And I feel afraid, because my inadequacies are failing everyone around me. I have to protect them, have to keep them safe, but sometimes I close my eyes and see everything aflame, or I see Dream and his friends flooding into the Final Control Room. We were betrayed, there. I’ve never told you this, but we all lost a life. Me, Tommy, Tubbo, and Fundy. I couldn’t do a thing to stop it. Somehow, I never thought that dying would be terrifying for me, considering who my mother is, but it is. I was so scared, and I still am.

I think I’m a disappointment. I think that if this country fails, it will be my fault, and it will only be right if I go down with it. My people have little faith in me, and they’re right not to, but I can’t bring myself to step down, because at the end of the day, I’m addicted to the power and responsibility. I’m nothing without it. If I can’t manage this, then how can I deserve the trust and faith that others have placed in me?

Most days, I think that everyone hates me. Most days, I think they’re right to do so. I can’t trust anyone. Not completely, not fully, no matter how much I love them. I feel very alone.

He stops writing. Reads it over. Feels his lips quirk up into a wry smile. He’s certainly not sending that.

But the smile fades away after a moment. He supposes that he hoped writing it all out would make him feel better, but if anything, he feels more tired. Drained. Wrung out. Blank.

He fishes around for a new, unmarred sheet of paper.

Dear Phil, he writes, All is well here in L’Manberg. The city is thriving, and my people are well. I really do want you to visit sometime—but not yet, of course! We’ve been having a spot of trouble with creeper holes lately, and I don’t want that to be your first impression. Between you and me, it’s just a little bit embarrassing.

It’s been a while since I last wrote. I do apologize for that; I don’t know where the time goes. There’s always so much to be doing, and I’m more and more thankful for this chance every day. It’s a lot of fun, having a country of our own, and we’re all working to make it as good as it can be. You should see Niki’s bakery—you haven’t tasted heaven until you’ve tasted something Niki’s baked, I swear. She’s a goddess, really, an essential pillar of our society. Baked goods make the world go round.

Tommy and Tubbo are well, and getting into just as much trouble as usual. Fundy grows up more and more every day. I’m so proud of them all.

Be careful of undead infants, and tell Technoblade I said hello, if you get the chance.

All love,

Wilbur

He sets down his pen and rereads. He’s satisfied with that, and more importantly, Phil will be as well. Now all that’s left is to let the ink dry and—

“Hey, boss man,” Tubbo says, opening the door to his office without knocking. He startles, violently. “How’re things coming?”

His heart shouldn’t be racing. It’s just Tubbo. But he came in without warning, which is—irritating. It’s irritating. That’s what it is. He feels himself flushing, just slightly, but surely it’s annoyance.

“There’s a lot of ‘things’ you could be referring to,” he says. “Are you going to be a little more specific?”

“Nah,” Tubbo says, meandering further into the room. But it’s not a regular meander, it’s a Tubbo sort of meander, which means that he’s here for a purpose. He just doesn’t want to reveal it just yet, or perhaps he’s figuring out how he wants to approach it. “Just wanted to know about general things. Big, vast things. Deep things.”

“Deep things,” he repeats, nodding. “Not much of that going on at the moment. Not a lot of deep things in paperwork.” He pulls the nearest sheet of paper closer to him; technically, that’s what he ought to be doing, not writing letters to a father that’s worlds away. He scans the words; it looks like something complicated about trade, something that sets his head to pounding already. The words swim, like they’re dancing, like they’re taking glee in the way he can’t comprehend them.

“I thought there were lots of deep things in paperwork,” Tubbo says, and he looks back up. “I thought that’s why the print is always so small.”

“Maybe,” he says.

“It makes sense to me,” Tubbo says. “Wilbur, is your hair really white?”

He freezes. “What?”

“Niki said that your hair is turning white,” Tubbo says. “Like an old man’s.”

Anger flares. He thought—he didn’t like that she found out about it, but he at least thought he could trust her with it. Thought that she would keep it to herself, that she wouldn’t let it spread to others, to others that might take it and try to use it as a knife to his jugular. But here is Tubbo, and Tubbo is so obviously staring at his hair, eyes flicking across his forehead and around his ears, and he won’t see anything. He double-checked when he arrived at the office; all of the white is under his hat. But he doesn’t like that Tubbo is looking, that Tubbo is actively trying to see, that Tubbo is treating him like some kind of curiosity, and that Tubbo surely must have some sort of opinion and that opinion cannot be anything but—

“Niki said that hair can turn grey or white if a person is very stressed,” Tubbo says, casually. “Are you very stressed, Wilbur?”

Oh—oh, fuck. Is that actually a thing that happens?

“I told her, it was a bad dye job,” he mutters, glancing back down at his paper. The words remain incomprehensible, but he’s not focusing on it. He nudges his pen with his finger, latching onto the light clicking sound it makes as it rolls and then comes to rest.

“Yeah?” Tubbo asks doubtfully. “What, were you trying to dye your hair white?”

He grits his teeth. “Was there something you needed, Tubbo?”

“Nothing I needed, really,” Tubbo answers. “I just wanted to see how you’ve been doing. Seems like forever since you came out of this office. Do you live in here now or something?” He keeps talking before Wilbur can reply, which is just as well, since he might as well live here, considering the state of his room. “And I think I’ve got a new design for a TNT cannon. Kind of streamlined, you might say, if you wanted to check it out. But I think you should just come and hang out with me and Tommy sometime. You never really do that anymore.”

He has a few feelings about TNT cannons. He doesn’t think about TNT too often, because when he does, his mind fills with fire and smoke, and his heart starts beating faster, climbing into his throat, and he wants to run, wants to run far and fast and away, wants to sit and shake until his body can’t move anymore, even when he knows very well that nothing around him is exploding, that his country is secure and his friends are safe. But some days, he can’t so much as smell smoke without a memory rising up to overwhelm him.

Once, he found himself zoning out in the middle of a conversation, a nearby campfire taking him far away from himself, and be barely returned in time to cover for his lapse.

He’s not a fan of TNT cannons, and he can’t bring himself to pretend to be, not even for the sake of Tubbo’s enthusiasm. And—

Hanging out with him and Tommy sounds nice. He misses them, he admits, and some part of him misses the old days, the first days and weeks and months on the server, when it was them and a dream and his fingers dancing on the frets of his guitar, his voice strong and steady and hopes high on the wind, words ready at his lips and Tommy a force of chaos at his back and Tubbo clever and quick by his side, and he just—misses it. Misses them. Misses it all, misses the days before so much was riding on his shoulders.

But he hasn’t the time.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” he says, and tries on a smile. “I’m a bit busy right now. Take a rain check?”

“Sure,” Tubbo says, and shrugs. “Later, then. You say that a lot, though, do you know that?”

He winces. Tubbo smiles. He means no harm. Probably. He thinks he would know if Tubbo meant him harm.

And then, Tubbo leaves, and the tension leaves him all in a rush, leaving him—exhausted. Exhausted, and near tears, for some reason, but he blinks those back. That can wait. He doesn’t cry in his office. That’s unprofessional; anyone could walk in on him, and then where would he be?

What was he doing before Tubbo came in?

Right. The letter. He glances it over, scoops it up, and tucks it away in an envelope. He’ll chuck it at the next crow he sees.

---

It’s Tommy who barges in next, a day later, though at least this time, he’s somewhat expecting it. Because if Tubbo knows, then Tommy knows. That is simply the way of the world. He has a difficult time imagining anything ever coming between those two, even information that would be better kept to oneself.

“Why the fuck is Tubbo going on about your hair, then?” Tommy says, with no preamble, and despite himself, Wilbur smiles. That’s Tommy, all the subtlety of a charging bull. And the question is just as irritating as it was yesterday when it came from Tubbo, but he’s more prepared for it this time. He looks up from his work—work that he’s actually doing, at the moment, and he feels rather proud of himself for it—and meets Tommy’s gaze squarely.

“I’ve had an unfortunate encounter with some hair dye,” he says. “The hair dye won.”

“What the fuck?” Tommy says, but there’s already a laugh in his eyes. Good. Tommy is fairly easily deflected, he’s learned. Because Tommy looks up to him, he knows, and that means he’ll willfully look away from any evidence suggesting that perhaps he is not worthy of admiration after all.

It makes him sick, the way he’s thinking about it. Makes him feel like he’s using Tommy, somehow, taking advantage of his affection, when really, that’s the last thing he wants to do. Tommy is his little brother, his little brother by choice, by years spent on the road together, by hushed conversations in the dead of night as the stars bear witness, by all the little intricacies they’ve learned about each other as time continues to pass. Tommy is his little brother, which means it’s his job to protect him, as best he can. He’s done a piss-poor job of that lately. Tommy only has one life left now.

So he can’t fail him again. And perhaps it’s selfish of him, but he doesn’t want Tommy to think he’s failed, either. If it ever turns out that Tommy hates him, he thinks it might kill him.

“Can I see?” Tommy asks, and he prepared for this, too, braced for it. With a long-suffering sigh, he sweeps his hat off his head and angles his face forward, letting Tommy take a good look.

“Satisfied?” he asks.

“Holy shit,” Tommy says. “How the fuck did you manage that?”

“Very impressively,” he says, and puts his hat back on. He’s sure to tuck all the white back under it. It’s a practiced motion, by now. “Or perhaps not very impressively, as it were.”

“Well, it looks sick,” Tommy says, and Wilbur glances at him immediately. He doesn’t seem like he’s lying. He seems almost—impressed? But he sees him looking right away, and immediately backtracks. “Sick as in disgusting, obviously. It makes you look old. Like an old, old man.”

Tommy’s joking, of course, is all bluster and smoke, no fire. But something in his chest stings, and he realizes that the words hurt, and more than that, they hurt because it’s an echo of what he tells himself. He doesn’t like to look in the mirror anymore—though he never did to begin with, actually—but he is well aware of what he looks like. The white hair is just one more symbol of his failing faith, his lack of ability to handle the job that he set himself out to take in the first place. He should be able to do this, and yet, he can’t, and the white hair—well.

After what Tubbo said, it can only mean that he’s weak. Physical proof of his incompetence. That’s really the only way to look at it.

“Shut the fuck up, child,” he says. “Why don’t you go and find a juice box to drink?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Tommy says, and the song and dance is familiar. Tommy rolls his eyes at him—the disrespect in this house is unbelievable—but he turns to go, and that means that Wilbur’s won.

What he’s won, he doesn’t know. Some more self-disgust, maybe. That’s what it feels like.

Lying to Niki. Lying to Tubbo. And now, lying to Tommy. What a stunning specimen of humanity he is. Working through them all like he has a checklist.

And then, Tommy stops in the doorway and looks back.

“Wilbur?” he asks. “You really are alright, aren’t you?”

And that gives him pause. Tommy’s not supposed to ask him that question. If anything, he’s the one who’s supposed to be asking Tommy that.

“It’s just that,” Tommy continues, “I don’t see you around so much, these days. Except for when there’s a problem, and you come out to try and solve it with, with your words and shit. Diplomatic shit, innit? You do that, but you don’t just—you never come to just spend time with us anymore, like how it used to be. And I just sort of miss that, you know? So I was thinking that maybe we could try and do that again, sometime soon? Just, hanging out, like the good old days?”

The good old days.

He doesn’t quite have the heart to tell Tommy that the good old days are long over, that they have been long over since the day Sapnap came to arrest them all for starting a drug empire and the forest around them was set ablaze, since the day they declared independence from the Dream SMP, since the day he in all his naivety declared that all they had to do was ignore the conflict and it would pass them by, since the day he was proven so very, very wrong. Since the day he learned that as much as he values his words, his diplomacy, his efforts toward nonviolence, some people only recognize power in iron and steel.

Since the day he watched his men, his comrades, his family die around him, and knew that he led them to that fate. Since the day Tommy traded his life and then his discs for their independence, and he knew that he couldn’t do a thing to help.

The good old days are long gone. The good old days belong to a different version of him, one that was young and hopeful and stupid, one that had no idea what he was getting into. And he likes to think that he’s still hopeful, that he still strives for a better future, but—

He’s learned. Nothing comes easy, here. There will be no more halcyon summers. The days are getting colder, and there will be no more rest.

“Sure,” he says, and this lie tastes far more bitter than all the rest. “I’d like that.” He gestures at his desk. “I’ve been really busy, but I would like to spend time with you. I’ll let you know when I can, alright?”

And Tommy believes him. He sees it in his answering smile, and he hates himself.

“Sounds good, big man,” Tommy says. “See you later then, yeah?”

“See you later,” Wilbur agrees, and then Tommy, too, is gone. He’s alone in his office, with his duties and his thoughts, and neither of them are kind.

Not that he thinks himself deserving of much kindness.

---

He waits two weeks before visiting the bakery again. It’s not completely intentional; he doesn’t have much time to get away anyhow. But part of it certainly is. He doesn’t want to come again so soon, doesn’t want to know how Niki’s going to look at him, doesn’t want her to poke and prod at something that isn’t important, that is a minor, irritating detail. He doesn’t want to discuss it, and he thinks that Niki might try, so he stays away.

But not forever. He can’t bring himself to take so drastic a step, even if his visits are a bit of a distraction. One that, perhaps, he can’t really afford.

So he steps inside and immediately wants to backtrack, because Niki’s not the only one here. Fundy and Jack Manifold are both sat at the counter, and both of them are looking at him now, having swiveled in their seats to watch his entrance. And that means he can’t leave, because if he leaves without saying anything, they’ll ask him why he did that, and he’ll have to make up something to avoid admitting that he’s been a little bit terrified of interacting with people lately. Because absolutely no one can know that.

Because it’s stupid. Pathetic. He’s pathetic, and he’s become quite accustomed to that word. It seems to live in his head now, like it’s made a nest in his brain, a little roost. Pathetic. Everything he does feels pathetic to him, and probably to everyone else around him.

“Oh,” Jack Manifold says. “Hi, Wilbur. Didn’t expect you in.”

Fundy doesn’t say anything. Just blinks at him, tail swishing. He finds that he doesn’t know what to say. But he needs to think of something, some reason for being here, and if he can manage it, some excuse for extricating himself quickly. The silence has gone on just a little too long, and he’s been standing in the doorway for a full five seconds now, and he needs to come in completely because it’s weird, what he’s doing, and they’re going to call him on it.

And then, Niki pops her head between the two of them, leaning far over the counter, resting practically all of her weight on it.

“Wil!” she says, and smiles. “I’m glad you came! I’m making honey bread, and I know you like that.”

And just like that, he relaxes. Not completely, but to ask that of him would be to expect the impossible. It’s enough.

“I do,” he agrees, and steps further in, letting the door close behind him. “Seems I have good timing.”

The tension in the air—imagined or real? He’s not sure—dissipates. Jack grins at him, raising a glass of—probably not alcohol? He doesn’t think Niki keeps alcohol stocked in here, or at least, none other than the cooking variety. Might be milk. And Fundy still doesn’t say anything, but his tail keeps twitching, and his eyes keep darting between him and the empty stool next to him, and he really hopes that’s an invitation, because that’s how he’s going to take it.

He slides onto the seat, letting his coat fall behind him. His hat, he keeps on. He’s not laying his face on the counter today. Not with other people here. He probably wouldn’t have anyway, tempting though it is. He always feels sleepier in here. It’s probably the warmth.

But he won’t fall asleep.

Niki’s gone back over to the ovens, inspecting her bread. He can smell it on the air, fresh and sweet, and his stomach twists. Has he eaten today? He’s not sure that he has. Though he definitely did yesterday—evening. He thinks. Definitely. A couple apple slices shoved in his mouth, swallowed without really tasting them. But it counts.

“What have you two been up to lately?” he asks. “Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Not too much,” Jack Manifold answers easily. “Mostly been hanging around Tommy and Tubbo. Getting into mischief, you might say. Nothing too serious or anything!” he is quick to add, seemingly remembering exactly who he’s talking to. “Nothing—I mean, nothing illegal, no, sir. Not us. But, you know, it’d probably be best not to share the details.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “Fair enough,” he says. “As long as it’s not something that I’m going to have to clean up later.”

“We’ve already cleaned up,” Jack says.

“Good.” He looks at Fundy, and affection blooms in his chest, sudden, almost overpowering. His boy’s grown up of late. He can barely remember it happening. It seems that only yesterday he came up knee-high, and now, he’s a man in his own right. But still his little champion, always. “How about you? I know we haven’t been fishing yet. I’m sorry—you know that’s the first thing on my list when I finally get a bit of time.”

Fundy glances away. “I know,” he says. “I’ve been fine.”

“I’m glad,” he says, and Niki saves him from having to say anything else—though why he thinks of it as a rescue, he isn’t sure—by walking back over and placing some bread on the counter before them.

“Fresh from the oven,” she says, “so it’s hot. Be careful.”

It smells nothing short of divine. Niki smiles, pleased, as Fundy and Jack reach for a piece right away, and he isn’t far behind them. Though he tries to be a little more neat about it than the other two are being. The way they’re digging in, he’d think that they’re starving. Frankly, he can’t blame them for it, not when it’s Niki’s food on the line, but he still tries to have a bit more decorum.

“Niki,” Jack says, mouth full, “you are an angel among mere mortals.” Fundy doesn’t say anything, but his tail is swishing happily.

Niki rolls her eyes, and takes a bit of bread for herself. “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she admonishes. “But thank you, Jack.” And then, her gaze drifts to him, and he finds himself stiffening. For no reason. It’s Niki. It’s just Niki. He trusts Niki. She’s basically his best friend, and he’s comfortable here. He is. This is a place of safety, as much as there are such places to be found. Safety, true safety, is not a thing that exists, not really. But here is as close as he can get to it.

Why can’t he let himself unwind?

Is it because Jack and Fundy are here? He hopes not; that wouldn’t be fair to them. They are his countrymen, his citizens, and more than that, Fundy is his son. What would that say about him as a parent, if being around his child makes him nervous? Not just nervous in a I-hope-I-don’t-fuck-up-my-kid way, but in a I-don’t-feel-safe-here way?

But his shoulders are stiff, slightly hunched. He can’t force them down. So he has to hope it’s not too obvious, that the lines of his coat disguise the hard set of his posture, a stance that indicates he thinks there’s a threat, if they know how to read him right. Which they shouldn’t. They shouldn’t.

“How about you, Wil?” Niki asks, and he takes another bite of bread. Small, so as not to get crumbs everywhere, and he swallows before answering.

“It’s as good as always,” he says. “Do I have to say it?” Though it sits heavier in his stomach than usual, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m glad,” she says. “It’s been a little while since the last time I saw you. You are eating properly, right?”

It’s concern, not an accusation, no matter how misplaced. The question shouldn’t raise his hackles. But it does, and all that’s left is to keep it from showing, to keep it from his voice.

“Of course I am,” he says, and before he can get anything else out, Jack laughs.

“Wouldn’t do to have our president starving on us,” he says, and his voice is light, full of laughter, joking. It’s a good thing that Jack feels comfortable enough to joke with him. He’s glad, because—he doesn’t know him all that well, definitely doesn’t trust him, not yet, but Tommy and Tubbo seem to like him, so it’s good that he’s fitting in, that he’s found a place, that he likes it here. Though liking isn’t always enough to stop the betrayal before it comes. He ought to keep a closer eye on him, just in case, but—that wasn’t the point of this.

The point is that, joking or not, Jack is completely right. It wouldn’t do to let his eating habits interfere with his duties. He’s already weak; is he going to add malnutrition on top of that? Never mind that he often doesn’t feel like eating, these days, that he really only has an appetite when he’s here, in the bakery. He needs to keep his strength up so that he can get things done. And he can’t force himself to sleep, so that problem is out of his hands, but he can force himself to eat.

Jack couldn’t have known what he was prodding at, of course, when he made the comment. But he takes another bite of bread anyway. It’s tough to swallow, even though it tastes delicious. He doesn’t know why. He’s never had an issue eating Niki’s food before. He hopes this doesn’t become a pattern.

And he hopes it’s not because there’s other people here. It would be an explanation, at least, but not one he likes. The implications there wouldn’t be—good, to say the least.

“Jack,” Niki says quietly, admonishingly, and he wishes she wouldn’t, because he doesn’t want Jack to examine what he’s just said, to analyze it as anything other than a joke. So he musters a smile, a quirk of an eyebrow, and Jack grins back at him.

Safe territory. Level ground, even footing. Relatively speaking.

And then Fundy pipes up.

“Hey, Wil,” he says, and Wilbur wonders, suddenly, where he picked up the habit of calling him ‘Wil’ or ‘Wilbur’ more often than he calls him ‘dad’. Not that he minds it, but it’s curious. Could it be from him? He himself calls Phil by his name more often than not. Perhaps it’s genetic. But then Fundy continues, “Is your hair actually, like, turning white?” and Wilbur is no longer interested in thinking about little details like that.

He’s tense again. Tense enough now that they can probably see it, even without looking too hard.

“Why is everyone so interested in my hair, lately?” he asks. “It’s just hair. Grows out of everyone’s head. Except for yours, Jack Manifold.”

“Point,” Jack Manifold agrees, but there is a gleam in his eyes, behind his glasses, that says he too is interested in the direction this conversation has taken. Not ideal.

“It’s just that,” Fundy persists, “it’s a little bit weird, right? If it’s turning white like that? Is that normal?”

“It’s not ‘turning white,’” he says, which might be a mistake, because he’s lying through his teeth, now. “It was a bad hair dye incident. Nothing you need to be concerned about.”

Jack laughs. “How’d you manage to fuck up hair dye that badly?” he asks, and the way the question is phrased is irritating; he doesn’t want Jack to start thinking he’s an incompetent fool who can’t dye his own hair properly. But he’ll also take this line of questioning over the other, so perhaps it balances out.

Except then, Niki splays both her hands on the counter. Any earlier levity that she had is now gone.

“Is that so?” she says. “That’s not what you told me.”

His heart is pounding again. He really, really hopes that he’s not developing a condition of some kind. He’d know if he were having a heart attack, wouldn’t he?

“I’m pretty sure that is what I told you,” he says, and Niki shakes her head.

“No, you told me that it wasn’t dye, when I asked,” she says. “And then you said that it was, but you were lying.”

She doesn’t sound angry, which is perhaps the worst thing about all of this. She doesn’t sound angry that he’s lied to her, taken advantage of her trust and fed her a blatant falsehood. Her voice is calm, matter-of-fact, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes that isn’t annoyance or betrayal or any of the other emotions she should be feeling. Instead, it’s concern. That blasted concern again.

He doesn’t deserve it.

“Really?” Jack says. “Huh. Well, what’d you do that for, then?”

He’s changed his mind. The worst thing about all of this is that there are other people present. That he’s not alone with Niki, which would still be an undesirable situation, but manageable. Jack Manifold and Fundy are both here, staring at him, expecting answers that he doesn’t want to give, and Fundy—

Why is his son looking at him like that?

“Why are you all so pressed about my hair?” he demands. “It’s hair. You don’t even see it.”

“I mean,” Fundy says, “like I said, it’s just kind of weird, right? I don’t think hair just turns white for no reason. Not unless you’re really old, which you’re not, I don’t think. So I guess we’re just curious about what the reason is.”

He doesn’t want to talk about this. This isn’t why he came here. This place, this bakery, these people, it’s supposed to be an escape from his responsibilities. The only one he allows himself, even though he knows he shouldn’t. It’s the one place where he doesn’t have to think about his own failings, where he can relax a bit and let himself be, if only for a little while, but here they are, pushing him on this, and he doesn’t want it. Doesn’t want to be reminded of his incompetency. And they don’t know, can’t know exactly what they’re doing to him, but—

He slams his hand against the counter, sudden emotion boiling over. They all jump, the three of them. Niki’s eyes widen, and Fundy’s ears press back against his skull.

“Then don’t be,” he snaps. “Leave it the fuck alone. It’s really none of your business, is it?”

There is a moment of silence. The only sound is the crackling of furnaces.

“I guess not,” Fundy mutters, and he realizes what he’s done.

He’s just snapped, lashed out at his friends, his countrymen, his son, and for what? Because their questions are stressing him out? He should have turned around and left the moment he saw them in here, no matter what they would have thought, because this is worse. This is so much worse than that, and now he feels like an absolute shitstain of a human being. What kind of person gets so fucking upset over questions about his hair?

“I’m sorry,” he says. Too little, too late. “I didn’t mean—” Fundy is looking at him. They all are, and suddenly, he can’t bear it. Not any longer. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot of work to do. I really should be going. Thank you for the bread, Niki.”

It’s painfully transparent, and he is very aware of the fact that it’s the exact same way that he rushed out of the bakery when he was last here. Except this time, there are more people here to witness his shame.

History repeats itself, he thinks, bitterly. History repeats itself, and it only gets worse.

But he’s not staying here. He can’t. He just—can’t. Because he feels very upset over such a stupid little thing, and he’s upset that he’s upset, and now he’s upset other people, and he can’t stay here any longer, because if he does, the gods only know what’s going to fly out of his mouth next.

“Wil, please stay,” Niki says, but he’s already standing.

“Be seeing you all,” he says, and the door isn’t far, but it feels like miles, because he can feel their stares burning into his back as he makes his exit.

“Aw, wait, Wilbur, you don’t have to—” Jack starts, but he’s out the door. He’s out the door, and he lets it swing shut behind him, and the words cut off. He doesn’t have to listen to them. So if Fundy says anything, he doesn’t hear it, and he wonders why that makes him feel so much worse. Worse than he does already, which is no mean feat.

His stomach growls. He’s hungry. How many bites of bread did he take? Two? Three? Not enough to be filling. But somehow, he already knows that if he seeks food elsewhere, it will turn to ash in his mouth. And he can’t go back, not after the scene he’s just made, so he’s going to have to be hungry. Which is fine. He’s fine. He’s fine, even though he’s just fucked everything up, and he rather thinks he might not be able to show Niki his face ever again. So, no more bakery. No more safe place, and wow, he is being a dramatic fuck, isn’t he? But he can’t help himself. He never can.

He should have known better from the start. There is no such thing as safety. No exceptions. He should have tried harder to remember that. And he’s not angry, not anymore, not really, because they weren’t aware of the hornets’ nest they were stirring up; rather, he’s angry at himself, for losing control, for letting himself react, for not being able to handle a simple question with the poise and calm that is expected of him as president.

For being weak. That’s what it comes down to. His weakness. Persistent, and now, persistently on display.

He does a lot of screaming into his pillow that night. It doesn’t help. And sleep, it seems, is determined to continue its avoidance, so the night stretches long, and even his tears eventually run dry.

---

The next day, Niki comes to his office.

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hotgirltarot · 3 years

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Pick-a-Card: What will be a major obstacle this Mercury Retrograde ☿ and how can you overcome it? 🐆🐝🐬

What's good, Baddies? Welcome to another Pick-A-Card! This PAC is about what the upcoming Mercury Retrograde (September 27th- October 18th) will bring up for you and how to handle it.

Pile 1: Cheetah 🐆 - Pile 2: Bee 🐝 - Pile 3: Dolphin 🐬

To pick a pile, you can meditate, intuitively choose one or pick whichever crystal is calling out to you. This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Please only take what resonates & leave what does not. If you like your reading and want to support our page, tips are appreciated at $DejaWash19 on Cashapp or Deja-Washington on Venmo!

Reblog to help others master mercury retrograde!

Pile 1: Cheetah 🐆

Pile 1 is for the people who are most comfortable in situations where they are in control. They thrive in their own world while feeling lost when they are outside of it. One major theme of this Mercury retrograde will be your relationships with others. Your connection to others, whether it be friendships, business partners, relationships or marriage will be affected. Any major issues or tensions from the past that you or they may have swept under the rug will be brought to the light. You must ask yourself: Am I feeling disconnected from any people in my life? Am I growing away from limiting relationships? Are my relationships an even push and pull? Are the people in my life bringing value to me? Mercury retrograde is here show you that you have been living in an illusion in some of your personal relationships. No more time for empty conversations or entertaining people that are not on the same vibration as you; this is a time of evolution and transformation.

We are picking on 2 types of energies:

1. Some people who need a person as a reason for them to grow, because they don't think they deserve to be their own priority. You have to do things in life for yourself, if you choose to heal for someone so that you can have a better relationship with them won't work. You have to do it for yourself because you are worthy enough to be the reason and you care about yourself enough. Waiting for someone to guess what you're going through and come and save you from your mind will make you lose hope. 2. Some people who give up human interaction and just isolate. You need to be more open and interact with people, don't give up as soon as something doesn't go the way you planned. Some things require time to grow especially when it comes to relationships/friendships. Don't be afraid to ask for help. Don't choose to isolate yourself and let others' emotions, opinions about you stop you from all the beautiful things that you are capable of achieving in this lifetime.

You have the power to change. Don’t dwell on the past or on what could have been. Look forward and keep going; it’s not over yet. Just because some people may leave your life, doesn’t make your life any less fulfilling. Life continues and you are being given the opportunity to grow, experience new things, and evolve. After it is all said and done, you will realize that the people that have left your life brought little or no value to you at all. You are not meant to be a follower in this lifetime; you are a leader, a visionary, an artist, and a dreamer. Your Spiritual Team wants you to know that you are protected, divinely guided and it's safe for you to share your art/ideas & yourself with the world. All you have to do is to gather the courage to pave a new path for yourself and trust your visions before they become reality. Don’t look for outside validation for your work or creative projects, allow them to just exist. When you allow the negative Nancies and keyboard critics to impact your self-worth, it takes the joy out of creating. A major piece of advice is to be bold during this mercury retrograde. Follow your heart and emotions and listen to what your gut is telling you about the people in your life. Avoid being reckless, but show the world what you’re made of!

Pile 2: Bee 🐝

Pile 2 is for the people who are sometimes so trusting in their spirituality that they forget to also be practical. This mercury retrograde will show you the importance of having practicality & reality instead of just having your head in the clouds. This retrograde will force you to make more effort to move towards your goals and the more practical steps you can take, the better. It’s time to find an inner balance between your dreams and your responsibilities. Taking responsibilities means cleaning up your messes and making changes so that it does not happen again, not just hoping everything will just magically sort itself out. This mercury retrograde may also affect your 2nd house of personal finance and possessions. Think about your relationship with money; Are your thoughts and actions around money empowering or disempowering you? Do you use money as an excuse to avoid doing something? Abundance comes through gratitude, being appreciative of what you already have. Don't be fixated on the idea that rewards only come in the form of money, thinking like this will only cause you to miss the beautiful gifts that life will be offering you. You might have a feeling that your purpose is to help others and guide them, but you sacrifice so much of your time, energy, resources for others that you ignore your own needs. You are for sure the person who helps everyone and is solving their problems. However, the only thing you are doing is burdening yourself by carrying their unresolved issues and also stopping them from learning the lessons they need to learn in order to grow in this lifetime. You are being asked to look after your well-being before anyone else’s. Spirt is thanking you for being so caring but now it's time for you to relax, celebrate, and allow yourself to reap the rewards for all your positive actions and intention. Also, it is important to listen openly and respectfully to people who have different beliefs than you, open communication can start real change.

In order to get the best out of this mercury retrograde, meditate as much as possible. Meditate for relaxation, for answers and for guidance. If you are able to find the perfect balance between spirituality, positivity and practicality, you will leave mercury retrograde with new love opportunities, abundance and happiness. There are major themes of wealth, abundance and new relationships in your life. People who have chosen this pile have a desire for the finer things in life and want the best of the best; Venusian energy. If you can believe it, you can achieve it. Some opportunities you are about to be given will happen once in a lifetime, but make sure you are taking action to make it happen and not just wishing on a star.

Pile 3: Dolphin 🐬

Pile 3 is for the people who live in a more Neptunian way of life. You are imaginative, live heavily in your subconscious and fantasy world. This mercury retrograde is going to force you to grow and heal your past wounds at a rapid pace. You are being called to let go of the past. That time is over. Whatever you have been clinging on to - good or bad - is long gone. The past energy is weighing you down and it is time to break free of it. You are currently living in a state of complacency. There is lots of self-neglect and dietary imbalance in this pile. Procrastinating and choosing to live in a dream world instead of dealing with the reality of your situation. You are holding yourself back and this retrograde will shake your world until you are born again. You will go through major regeneration: a rebirth. This mercury retrograde practice being present and calling your energy back into the here and now. Music is going to be very influential in your healing; it will be a safe space for you to process your thoughts and emotions as well as raising your energy when needed. Massive healing and Chiron energy in this pile. Shedding your old skin and coming out anew. By the end of it all, you will be a different person, the star of your own world. The universe is giving you a second chance to attach new opportunities you once let slip by. Forget about the past, a new start is on its way!

Make sure you gratitude for all the things in your life that make you happy and if you need guidance through this journey listen to your soul and follow the path you are being called towards. Remember that your soul choose this journey before you started your life on Earth. This moment was destined. Don't think you are unprepared and you will be lost once you decide to take action. Your soul has been training for this moment and you will know exactly what to do when the time comes. Your Guides are assisting you in this journey and they want you to have faith in yourself. Your circumstances will soon improve and your life will get so much better, don't lose hope!

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ladykalila · 4 years

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✨ How To Wake Witchblr ✨

We’ve all seen the hashtag #wakingwitchblr or the term itself at one point. Still, I found that there’s a lack of info on what you can actually do to make witchblr more active.

So I took it upon myself to create a list of things that anyone can do to revive our amazing community! Enjoy !

1) Don’t Like, Reblog instead 📣

There’s nothing inherently wrong with liking a post, it’s just that due to how Tumblr works, liking a post does virtually nothing. Reblogging, however, lets that post be seen by more and more people. The surefire way to revive witchblr is by reblogging as many witchy posts as you can.

But what if some posts just doesn’t fit into your blog’s theme, even though you want to support it? Well, you have a couple options:

Reblog anyway. Diversifying your posts actually makes your blog more interesting. You can always tag it as ‘off-topic’ if the different theme bothers you that much.

Create a reblog/spam account! I have one and it is so simple. The post may not gain as much traction compared to if you RB-ed in your main blog, but trust me when I say a single reblog goes a long way.

Share it on other social media. See that arrow-like button down there? Click it and you can share the post anywhere. Send it to your witchy discord servers or your insta groupchat !

2) Get off the 'Top’ page. Go to ‘Recent’ 💌

AKA reblog from lesser-known bloggers.

Not only will you support fellow witches creating content, this also give you a chance to talk to them and find your place within Witchblr! Which brings me to my next point...

3) Interact with The Community 💬

If I’m a witch who wants to move away from Tumblr, there will be only one thing that can stop me, and that’s the friends and connections that I’ve made here.

Join online covens and discord servers, ask your witchstagram and witchtok friends for their tumblr url, and just have fun together.

Interacting with other witches, making friends, even just giving compliments or advices. This is what makes us a community. It’s what makes us stay here. If we don’t interact with each other, than we’re just a bunch of people who likes the same thing without any connection. That’s not witchblr.

4) Diversify Your Tags 🎪

There is a kind of... exclusivity, when you look through the hashtags of witchy posts. Witches only ever tag with “witchblr”, “witchcraft”, and “magick”.

This creates an accurate, non-spammy post, but it is also a post that will only show up on other witches’ dashboard and no one else’s. The community will never grow in this way because there will be no new people finding the community. It’s just an echo chamber.

Instead, diversify your tags. I’m not telling you to tag your ritual oil with ‘cars for sale’, but if you made a travel altar yourself, there’s nothing wrong in tagging it #crafting, #diy, #handmade, etc.

Non-witches will then find the post and potentially become interested in the community, thus making it grow.

5) Make Original Content 🔮

Original content is the backbone of any community, and witchblr is dying because we’re not producing any. So if you want to revive witchblr, make content of your own.

No, it doesn’t have to be well thought-out. Heck, it doesn’t even have to be good. Original content can be anything! It can be you posting about a witchy thing that happened. It can be your drawing, or a picture you took. It could even be memes???

Or it could be a ‘how to wake witchblr’ post that you wrote because you have a script due 3 weeks ago and somehow this is your idea of procrastination

The point is: just click that ‘Make a Post’ button, and make a freaking post !

6) Share This, and Add Your Own Tips! 🖤

Now that you know these, it’s time to let other people know too ! I put a lot of thoughts into this post, but I have to admit that these tips will only work if everyone in the community is doing it.

If you have other tips or ways to make Witchblr more active, feel free to reblog with your own addition too.

I love this community, and if you’re reading this post I’m sure you do as well. It’s not gonna happen overnight, but I know that we can be as active as we used to be. We’ve got the heart, we just need the action.

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badedramay · 2 years

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Hey!!! Hope ur well. Sorry in advance if this is a lil irrelevant to ur blog but i was wondering if u have any study tips that work for u? I have serious procrastination problems and need to get my shit together this semester..thanks is advance if u choose to answer this ask 🥲

Oh, honey 🥲

tbh nothing worked better for me more than sheer panic. but that's literally the worst way to approach things! so here's what else worked for me.

turn off the damn devices.

seriously. turn off your phone and your wifi (if you are working on your computer and cannot part from it) for like an hour or so. and hide them. put them somewhere not easily accessible. then hit your books/notes. and study. out of sight, out of mind does work. and for however long is your study time..try to resist checking out the social media. the world doesn't end if you don't check updates for a few hours, trust me! but like don't completely go all strict on yourself. if you are at the beginning of the semester and not necessarily in exam season..allot a little bit of your time everyday away from devices and just with your books. start with half an hour and work your way up. by the time exam season come, you'd have trained yourself to sit still with studying without having the itch to get up.

there's a great episode in Kota Factory (S01E02) which i WISHED i had seen back when I was in my undergraduate where Jeetu tells a troubled Vaibhav that the only solution his problem is to stubbornly face them. it's a game of 21 days only. for 21 days just SIT everyday at a time with your books and notes without limiting yourself that you'll study only one topic. shuffle around..read new topics, study old ones..just don't get up from the chair. in 21 days a habit would be developed and it will help a LOT during exams season.

and for me the reward system stopped working when I was in school xD if it works for you..like the promise of a reward works as a motivation for you then that's great. but the best motivation for me is always, "man i'll be so fucking tired from all this grinding that i'll just hit the bed and sleep." that feeling of your aching back hitting the bed for me is just...bliss.

if you are having exam season and feel overwhelmed about the course...break it down. my biggest issue is starting. i never knew where to start. so I would take it real small. read the syllabus. take a topic and tackle it. keep it aside, take another. and so on and so forth. or if your university is anything like mine where your social skills played as much part in getting grades as did studying..get in touch with a friend who you know knows about the system of how exams are conducted and discuss any strategies or approaches. like me..i figured out which professor of mine wanted us to just write whatever they taught us in class so I only studied class notes and I knew which professor encouraged our own thinking so I put in more effort in those subjects. work smart!

when in doubt about any particular topic..reach out to your friends or classmates. don't hesitate in asking for help. i know there are loads of resources out there for us to use but it's always better to get help from someone who is sharing the class with you. chances are even if they don't know about something..they'll know someone who does. we are all connected in the sheer agony of surviving our student life :D

most importantly..know your peace hours. anyone who says there's only one most productive time to study is all bullcrap. every body functions differently. my most productive hours started from midnight because i got the most peace then. there's no disturbance..no distraction. you can have these hours in the early morning. or during the evening. or right after dinner. no one else but your body will tell you when it's at its most optimized state.

and I repeat - work smart! take one day of pain to really go through what your coursework is. then evaluate where you stand within your each subject. break each subject down to expectations. for example..I was always good at languages so I kept it very down on my priority list. history whopped my ass so I knew I had to give that more time. make a checklist of required notes. gather what you don't have. if they are in soft format..get them printed if holding a paper in your hands help you study better. otherwise don't. once you have neatly broken down each subject smaller packets..then it's all about taking one packet at a time and dealing with them. don't rush in blindly. really take your time and make a plan that works best for you!

hope it helps! all the best!! <3

#study tips #type: reply #anon #agony corner

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itsstrange · 3 years

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I’ll Be Here

Adam Ruzek x Reader

A/N: Here’s something short for y’all meanwhile I continue to procrastinate with other stories 💗I haven’t posted in a few days due to certain things happening in my life, so I wanted to drop something here for y’all. ✨

Summary: After a tough case everyone is in much need of a few drinks, Reader taking the case a lot more harder, decides to down her sorrows shot after shot, leaving her unstable to get home. Ruzek, being the ever loving gentleman and partner volunteers to take the Reader home. During the process of doing so, Reader accidentally slips her true feelings towards the man.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Alcohol, highly intoxication, Mentions of Violence, Ruzek being a gentleman, comfort, kissing,

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ENJOY!! ✨

————

“‘Nother one,” You mumble, tapping a finger on the rim of the shot glass,

Greg, the bartender, who you learned through a blurry version, gives you an unsure look, but the one you give in return has him pouring your 8th refill of straight vodka. Giving him your best loopy sided smile, you tip your head back as you down the liquor, not even wincing at the bitter taste as it falls down your throat, which should be a sign to stop drinking but after what you saw today you needed it. Needed the blackout. It was the only way for you to fall asleep without the horrifying image playing in your mind all night. So getting drunk till your completely shit faced is a must.

Motioning another refill to the poor man, he forcefully obeys, not wanting to get on your drunk bad side, because from the looks of it he can tel it won’t be fun. Just as you downed the liquor once again a voice settles right next to you.

“Alright you, how bout we call it a day huh?” You snort, turning your eyes to the one man who can tolerate you in any given state,

Literally.

“I told you... I’m gonna get s’drunk,” You slur at him, slightly catching the way his lips curl upwards,

“Looks like you succeed that goal. C’mon, I’ll take you home,” Adam offers a hand for you to take, but you shake your head,

“Nah.. it’s still early, and m’not even there yet,” You grin at him, eyes twinkling in dim light from the liquor,

Adam softly chuckles, “(Y/n) it’s two in the morning,”

Your furrow your brows at him, “Wha-?”

Looking over your shoulder as much as you can without toppling off your stool, you noticed how the place looked completely deserted, only a few people remained. The rest of the gang had left an hour ago while you were busy downing the image away at the bar. It was just you and Adam now. Giving a surprise hum, you turn back to the bar, calling after Greg, which sounded more like ‘Reg’.

“You can leave if.. y’want,” It was more of an offer than a question,

Adam shakes his head, “Not without you,”

“Geez Ruzek.. if you’d wanted m’in your bed, all you hada’ do is ask,” You give him your best smirk,

Adam chuckles and nervously scratches the side of his neck. If only it would be that easy with you, not that he would only want you on his bed, no that would be the bonus, what he truly wanted was to claim you as his own. You two have been friends since the academy days, and when you both got chosen by Alvin it just grew from there. Especially with the death of your recruiter, something had been built in between you two, causing the both of you to show your vulnerability to one another. You guys trusted each other and knew each other better than anyone else, and as the years passed, your relationship grew as well.

Your feelings to one another wasn’t visible after the whole marriage devastation with Burgess, then once again with Hailey. Adam wasn’t sure at first, would do his best to deny such feelings by sleeping around, but once he’d wake up he felt guilty about the whole night. Feeling wrong for sleeping with a women that wasn’t you. He finally admit to the feelings one day during a case, it was a close call, he didn’t say anything, but he certainly realized how much he cared for you. The moment he saw your body falling on the ground, face twisted in pain as you tried your best to gather air, he thought the worse. If it wasn’t for your awkward position and the heavy bullet vest, the entire situation would have been a lot more horrible.

“‘Reg,” You call out again,

Adam watches as the bartender makes his way over, vodka bottle in one hand and a weary look on his face. Just as nears them both and brings the bottle towards the shot glass, Adam throws a couple bills on the counter.

“She’s done for the night pal,” The bartender nods his head, relief showing on his face as he quickly collects the payment,

You turn around with narrowed eyes, “C’mon, everyone else went home, it’s time for us to do the same,”

You stay quiet for a few seconds before dropping your eyes down to the counter, “Not everyone,”

Adam’s smile slowly falters. He knew exactly what you were referring to. The little girl that had been kidnapped along with various other kids, had been rescued, except for Isabel Pace, a 7 year old girl. She was one of the offenders favorite apparently, just as the gang found his hideout where he kept all the kids, he had took off with her. You had followed him in the car, tried to keep up with him, but an oncoming truck had rammed you off the road, making you lose visual on the beaten up car. Although, after a few minutes later a park ranger caught visual on the car, but once you all arrived on the scene it was a horrifying sight. Sat on the drivers seat was your perk, bullet wound to the head, but what made your stomach twist with pain and rage was the little girl in the back seat who shared the same wound to the head.

The image would forever haunt you along with the others. So of course, Adam couldn’t blame you for wanting to drown yourself in liquor, it wasn’t easy.

He watches as you down the rest of the drink before sighing quietly through his nose, “Come on,”

With hesitation you finally climb off your stool, gripping tightly on Adam’s jacket as he helps you with an arm around your waist, steading you on your feet before slowly walking out the bar and towards his car. Luckily, you hitched a ride with Hailey, leaving your car back at the station and not having to worry about it in the morning.

The ride to your apartment was less than 20 minutes, but still managed to doze out with your head leaning heavily against the cool window. Parking in front of your apartment building, Adam softly nudges you awake before climbing off and walking over to your door. Once helping you out and up the flight of stairs, the both of you finally made it to your front door after what seemed like ages. The elevator had broken down, leaving the stairs the only option available, Adam thanked the lord you stayed in the second floor, he didn’t think he’d be able to go through another pair of stairs with your drunken state.

Another minute passed of Adam trying to open your door while you leaned heavily against him. Kicking your door open with his free shoulder, he leads you both inside and shuts it with his foot before walking you over to your couch. Gently settling you down on the cushions, he walks back to front the door, locks it and turns back, heading towards the kitchen. He’s been in your apartment long enough to know his way around the house. His movements in the kitchen can be heard, but honestly it didn’t faze you, in fact you were nearly dozing off—again— on your couch as he made himself at home in the other room.

“Here,” Adam’s voice makes your eyes flutter open, he sat on your right with a large glass of water,

With slow movements you sit right on the couch as you reach out towards the cup and finish it one gulp. At least it’ll somewhat help with the headache in the morning, it won’t subside the brutal hangover, but it’ll at least help some. Handing him the cup, you settle back in the couch, not to sleep, but to drift off. It wasn’t even a minute when tears start to fall down your cheeks, you thought they were silent tears, but the way you sniff had Adam turning towards you. Not wasting a second he wraps an arm around your shoulders and brings you towards him, your head resting heavily against his chest as silent sobs leave you. Seeing you in pain was the last thing Adam wanted, no matter the situation, he hated seeing you in pain, especially when he doesn’t know exactly how to comfort you. Physically he’s good at, but when it comes to words, he’s the worst, till this day it still surprises him when he manages to spill any comforting words to anyone who’s in need of them.

Comforting someone with words wasn’t his best suit, but words weren’t exactly what you needed at the moment, hell, it never is most of the time, so all the detective does is wrap a tight arm around you as he softly rubs soothing circles on your shoulder and leaning the side of his cheek at the top of your head. Getting a small whiff of your coconut shampoo, along with your Calvin Klein perfume he had gotten for your birthday a few months ago, the scent alone made his heart flip.

A few moments had passed when your tears had finally subsided, but still remained on the couch with Adam, head leaning against his chest, heartbeat playing in your ear and feeling yourself calming down. Another minute passes as you two remain on the couch, his fingers gently massaging your scalp as your own fiddle with a button on his shirt. Although, the sound of you yawning finally breaks the silence in the room, and bringing Adam back from his thoughts.

“C’mon, let’s take you to bed,” As much as he wants to hold you in his arms all night, Adam knows you both need sleep to get up for work in a couple of hours,

Which will be a bitch for the both of you. But mainly for you.

You shake your head and only bury yourself closer to his chest, which honestly made Adam want to allow it, want to fall asleep on the couch with you, but he knows it would be uncomfortable and knows it will only worsen your headache in the morning. Slightly chuckling to himself, Adam places a finger underneath your chin and lifts it up until you meet his chocolate orbs.

“You’ll be okay,” He referred it as a reminder more than a question,

Which was true, and you knew it was. Your job was all about dealing with tough cases that will sometimes get personal, that will have a strong effect on you, both positive or negative and then slowly learning how to move forward. Whether the pain is still there, you learn to use it as motivation to be better, stronger, and knowing you have support from your team, Adam, you knew the pain that you were currently dealing with would also be easy to get through. It might take days, weeks, but you knew it was all about time and patience.

With a hint of hesitation you nod your head in agreement, earning a small smile from the man and then getting lost in each other eyes. Your eyes dart from one pair to the other and then down to his lips, you repeated it a few times before finally closing the little gap between you two. You rest your lips against his for a few seconds and slightly pull back, testing the waters before seeing him lean back in. The way your lips felt together was like a feeling no other, like the missing pieces of the puzzle have been placed in their proper spot, they felt just right. Relief and happiness washed over both your chest, after what seemed like a lifetime you two have finally gave in to one another, and it honestly felt fucking great.

Gentle kisses were exchanged for a few minutes before slowly growing into firmer and deeper kisses. Without much warning you straddle his lap, immediately feeling his hands on either side of your waist, holding you upright as you two continue to lavish each other’s mouths, however, the way you begin to move your hips has him coming back to reality. A small gasp escapes from him when you circle your hips once again, giving you the opportunity to dive your tongue, earning yet another small moan from both of you. The moment was quickly escalating when Adam was beginning to feel all his blood going south, not that he didn’t want to continue, matter of fact he’d take you right here and there but he knew it wasn’t the right way nor right time. You are just acting on impulse, heat of the moment, and more importantly you weren’t sober. What if whatever is going on at the moment is all just a drunken night for you, what if you’d regret it when you awoke? Even if the kiss felt just right to Adam, and to you, he still didn’t want to take advantage of you at this state, it would feel real to him.

“(Y/n),”

“Adam,” You whimper against his lips, moving your hips once again, emotions heightening at the feeling of his member growing underneath you,

The hand that was resting against the mans chest had made its way at the back of his head, fingers finding they’re way into his small soft locks. It wasn’t the way you had pulled his hair that made Adam stop your movements, no, it was the way you angled your hips against his. He had to stop otherwise he knows things will soon start to escalate even more. Gripping tightly on to your waist with both hands he hauls your movements, earning another small whimper from you. Breaking the kiss you stare at him with hooded yet confused eyes.

“You don’t-..,”

“No I want to,” Adam stops you, placing a hand on the side of your cheek, “but I want it to be you, the real you,”

You melt against his hand at his words, you never knew he could be such a gentleman, well more than you’ve already seen him act towards females, and that alone made you fall harder for him.

“Okay?” He asks, hand still on your cheek while eyes search for any disapproval in yours,

Placing your own hand over his, you angle your head to place a chaste kiss in his inner palm before nodding in understanding. Feeling less weight off his shoulders, Adam nods as well before helping you off his lap and leading you towards your bedroom. Helping you remove your denim jacket, boots and pants he tucks you under the covers. Just as he pulls away you grip on to his wrist, holding it loosely as you glance up at him.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Adam didn’t need words to understand what you were asking for,

You drop his wrist and watch as he shrugs off his own jacket and boots before climbing on the other side of the bed, where you immediately settled against him. Your head leaning against his chest, just like earlier while your fingers drew imaginary shapes on his black undershirt. The feeling sending relaxation to the man and making his eyes flutter shut, awhile so many questions piled in your head. What does it mean for you two now? Did he feel the same way or was he just being a gentleman and not wanting to take advantage? Was it just the heat of the moment? Not being able to handle so many thoughts you call out his name.

“Shh..go to sleep,” He says through closed eyes, as if knowing exactly what you were planning on asking and continues with, “I’ll be here in the morning,”

A small smile tugs at the corner of your lips, even if the questions still laid heavily in your head, you knew he would be there in your arms when you awoke. You just hoped you would be able to wake up next to him in the upcoming weeks and in the future. As you got comfortable against him and start to drift off, you fell asleep with his last words of the night..

“I’ll always be here,”

————

- Hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

- Make sure to turn on those Notifications on to get new updates!! 🔔

- Love you all for the support!! 💗✨

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#adam ruzek #adam ruzek x you #adam ruzek x reader #patrick flueger #Patrick flueger x Reader #chicago pd #chicago pd x reader #fluff #cute #gentlemen #drunk reader #alcohol #Adam ruzek is a gentleman

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shysneeze · 3 years

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phases of falling in love (ginny weasley x fem!reader)

Description: the painful process of reader falling for her Ginny Weasley, her best friend.

Warnings: angst af, I can’t think of anything else specific but please let me know if you come across anything and I’ll add it

Authors note: in love by khai dreams and she by dodie fit this in my head and are worth a listen.( edit, : i have a playlist here that fits this entire fic) .

...

(Y/N) has decided that falling in love comes in three distinct phases: realisation, denial, and acceptance, though with various forms of panic in between.

No one’s ever boasted that falling in love is easy, the bitter angst of doing so the subject of too many pieces of literature to be doubted. Yet, no one’s ever told her it would be this hard, but she supposes the stakes were always going to be higher when it’s your best friend.

Realisation came first during a party, sat in a small group by the fireplace as the cheers and laughter so typical of a Gryffindor victory party raged on around them. They weren't much different from the others, talking loudly and laughing with their heads thrown back dramatically. They were discussing the game, (Y/N) thinks, though she can hardly remember now, nor was she particularly invested at the time.

How could she be with her just across the from her, fair freckled skin aglow from the fire, who's light danced across her face with each flame’s flicker. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders effortlessly, as if it was pulled straight from the ponytail she wore during the afternoon's match.

That was the night she looked at Ginny Weasley and felt something in her heart, longing perhaps, that went beyond mere friendship, the first night Ginny's smile made her chest tighten and her eyes finding hers with a wink made her gulp.

It was the first time she looked at Ginny and saw her best friend but longed for more.

Denial was easy after that, the whole thing flippantly dismissed as a fluke of the evening, blamed on the giddy feeling that accompanied the house’s victory that Ginny played such a vital part in securing. It was nothing more appreciation, awe.

Weeks later though, and the tugging in her chest still lingers, holding her hostage and controlling her every move.

It flares up unexpectedly, from a smile at lunch, a wave during matches or a laugh hidden behind textbooks during classes. There is an endless array of quirks and habits that (Y/N) has never once before paid attention to that now leave her stomach victim to butterflies and her heart to palpitations.

Yet the denial continues, excuses ranging from the outlandish to the self-deprecating. Perhaps an insensitive prank, a love potion slipped regularly into her morning orange juice, or maybe it’s just all in her head, a crush manifested from loneliness, from the desire to be loved by someone.

Excuses are easy to provide, yet even easier to disprove and it soon becomes clear that every attempt to deny her own feelings is fruitless. Acceptance looms over her, unmindful of the heart it’s about to break.

Acceptance comes reluctantly during an evening’s study in the library. There’s no blame to place on atmosphere this time, hidden together at the end of an aisle of shelves, sat across from one another at a desk most certainly made for one.

The characteristic smell of old books lingers in the air and speckles of dust are illuminated by a dim lamp as they float aimlessly around them. The light does nothing to highlight the red in Ginny’s hair the way the flames of the fire had during the party, or to draw the warm brown from her eyes, yet (Y/N) is enamoured.

(Y/N)'s quill hangs limply between her fingers, ink drying on the tip with a word half-finished on her parchment. Across from her, Ginny bites her lower lip in concentration, deep brown eyes scanning each word she writes, occasionally lifting her hands to fix the loose bun holding her fiery red hair from her face, ridding her eyes of the messy stray strands with a frustrated rush of air from her pink lips.

(Y/N) gulps and panics slightly that in the quiet of the library, her best friend might hear the hammering of her heart in her chest. They're so close that their knees touch under the desk and (Y/N) is left unsure on whether to move her legs or not from fear of only drawing attention to it.

She's trying to convince herself to act normal, that this is all normal, a scenario they've been in so many times before with procrastinated essays and last minute deadlines, that she has no reason to act any different, yet her heart races, and she can hear it in her own ears.

It’s terrifying.

She's mid inner quarrel when Ginny lets out a loud sigh of surrender and lets her quill clatter against the desk. (Y/N) blinks out of her daze, dropping her own quill in surprise and frowning at the red head.

"Snape is asking for one of the twin's puking pastilles in his tea." She grumbles.

"They'd give you them for free if you tell them it's for Snape." (Y/N) manages a laugh. "How much more have you got to do?"

Ginny peers at her own parchment, then at (Y/N)'s with a questioning frown, reaching over to snatch it into her hands. She examines it with arched brows and stifles a small laugh at whatever she's read.

"Better than you- You've neglected to finish the word 'assignment', (Y/N)." She snorts softly. "It just says 'ass'."

(Y/N) stands abruptly to grab it back from her amused friend with a quiet 'oi' and a flustered wide-eyed expression that only adds to Ginny's laughter until she's clasping her hand atop her lips to muffle the sound.

"I got d-distracted." She explains embarrassedly. "It's just the first draft."

"Oh no, I think you should hand it in as is." She grins. "I want to see Snape's face."

"I'm not getting detention just so you can get a laugh." She argues.

"Aw, come on." Ginny pouts. "Not even for me?"

A part of her, a shameful part, almost instantly concedes to the offer, despite its teasing nature, just for Ginny's puppy dog eyes, which (Y/N) has until now been immune to. She falters for only a second before fixing her friend with a frown.

"No, not even for you." She decides firmly. "Lets hear yours then, Gin."

Ginny dramatically clears her throat with a grin, something that eerily reminds (Y/N) of her elder brothers, and begins to read aloud before (Y/N) stops her with an eye roll, cautious of the pacing click of Madam Pince's heels as she roams the aisles for the opportunity to evict noisy teens.

"You'll be surprised to hear I finished all my words and never once spoke about my arse."

"Sod off." (Y/N) rolls her eyes again.

"Well, what’s got you so distracted you felt the need to conclude that you 'learned lots about counter curses from this ass'?"

"You memorized it all ready?"

"Of course." She beams cheekily. "How else am I to tell the rest of our friends?"

"You are the worst."

"You love me really though."

(Y/N) worries when she can't laugh that off, when she falters for only a second, but enough to remind herself of this new and scary situation. She forces on a smile and hope she's been quick and convincing enough to seem normal, though something in Ginny's eyes tells her otherwise.

"Are you okay, (Y/N)?"

"Fine."

"Hmm, you look nervous." Ginny hints. "What are you hiding? Is it a girl?"

(Y/N) is exposed instantly by the involuntary widening of her eyes and Ginny grins menacingly at her from across the tiny desk. She leans over, palms flat against the desk and head so close to (Y/N)'s that their foreheads almost touch.

(Y/N) forgets to breathe.

"Who is it?"

"No one." (Y/N) manages, edging back as subtly as possible. "It's not anyone."

"Aw, c'mon." Ginny rolls her eyes. "Tell me."

"You're going to make Madam Pince kick us out again."

Ginny tuts, rolling her eyes and returning to her seat, allowing (Y/N) to drop her shoulders in relief. She sighs as she picks her quill up again, soaking the tip in ink with a rejuvenated intent to write, motivated by the chance to change the topic of conversation.

"You're no fun." Ginny mumbles. "I'll find out."

“There isn’t anything to find out.” (Y/N) exhales, not daring to look up from her parchment, knowing once again her expression will betray her. “Or anyone.”

“Oh, but there is.”

(Y/N) doesn’t need to look up to know the red-head is grinning, it’s evident in her voice. All she can do in response is take a deep, calming breath and continue with her work.

It’s not long before she can feel Ginny’s eyes on the top of her head and she freezes again, not sure when this became a talent of hers, to tell just from some new sixth sense that Ginny Weasley is staring at her.

“Can I help you?”

“Is it Willow Kings?”

“Been there, done that.” (Y/N) mumbles with a sigh. “She’s nice but talks about her owl too much.”

“Hmm.” Ginny hums in contemplation. “You’re not crushing on Pansy again, are you?”

In every single way, (Y/N) wishes that was her current shameful crush, rather than the girl currently interrogating her. When (Y/N) denies it, Ginny begins to hum again in thought.

“Luna?”

“Luna’s just a friend.” (Y/N) sighs, distinctly trying to convince herself the same thing about Ginny at this exact moment. “I’m not telling you, Gin.”

“Ugh, why not?” Ginny grumbles loudly.

The red-head’s face pales when the methodical clicking of the Librarian’s heels halts, wincing at what is soon to follow. The sound begins again, quicker and sharper as it approaches the pair.

“Shit.” Ginny curses, already gathering her work into her arms. “Here we go.”

“You two.”

The girls turn sheepishly to the other end of the aisle, where Madam Pince stares them down, one hand on her hip, other extended outwards to point at them with a disapproving look.

“We’re just leaving.” Ginny assures.

Ginny stands, reaching out innocently for (Y/N)’s hand and clasping it in her own to drag her to her feet as she splutters out protests, flustered instantly by the action. Ginny only gives her enough time to gather her things before pulling her towards the exit.

“S-low down, Ginny.” She pleads. “Sorry, Madam- “

The librarian scowls at them with an icy look as they squeeze past her towards the exist, Ginny’s laughter barely concealed as they go. (Y/N) can barely focus on anything other than the hand in her own.

Once in the corridor, convinced of their own escape from the strict librarian, Ginny flings he rhead back in a laugh, bun bouncing on her head at the action, cheeks flushed from the excitement of it.

“Every time!” She exclaims. “We get chased out every time.”

“I-“

(Y/N) is too stunned to form a sentence, stunned not by their actions, one’s regularly performed to avoid Madam Pince’s wrath, but rather how suddenly loud her heart is in her own ears.

She could blame adrenalin, it would be so easy to do so, but she knows it’s not. It’s many things, but not adrenalin. Instead Ginny’s laughter, her free and proud laughter so cheerful on her ears, it’s the baby hairs framing her face, endearingly messy, and it’s most certainly the hand still clasped in her own, warm and soft.

Acceptance, that final phase. No amount of excuses in the world could hide it now, that (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is undoubtedly, and most terrifyingly, in love with her best friend.

In this moment, watching Ginny’s grin, that infectious smile that has (Y/N) own lips pulling into a smile of her own, she’s about ready to risk it all for her, to tug her closer and ask, even beg, to kiss her.

“Ginny- “She starts

“Harry!”

Like that, the spell is broken and Ginny’s hand is slipping from (Y/N)’s and her feet carrying her towards the red faced boy-who-lived at the other end of the corridor, flinging herself eagerly into conversation with him and leaving (Y/N)’s smile to drop.

The tugging feeling in (Y/N)’s chest returns, and she finds herself back in reality. Ginny likes Harry, she always has, it’s been the topic of so many late-night teasing, how could (Y/N) possibly forget. It hurts though, in a way it never has before, a painful stab of reality sent straight to her heart.

(Y/N) has just learned for herself that falling in love is never easy, even if her heartbreak isn’t one likely to be documented as a great tragic romance in future. No one told her it would be this hard, but as she watches Ginny grinning up at the boy across the hall, her heart twists with the reluctant acceptance that, not only is she in love, but that her best friend is in love with someone else.

#ginny weasley x reader #ginny x reader #ginny weasley imagine #ginny weasley reader insert #ginny weasley #ginny imagine #ginny reader insert #harry potter #weasley x reader #fem!reader #i'm a bi stereotype it's ridiculous #ginny fanfiction #ginny weasley fanfiction

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thehappynerd19 · 3 years

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Focusing on your studies

If you want to maximize concentration, you need to focus on the quality of your concentration.

Telling yourself, “I’m going to study for the next 5 hours,” is virtually meaningless.

Why dedicate such an arbitrary amount of time to studying? Just so you can say that you studied for 5 hours straight?

Of course, in the long-term the more time you spend “studying” or “concentrating” on something, the more you’ll improve. BUT, sitting at your desk skimming through your textbook and highlighting random words for 5 hours does not equate to 5 hours of quality studying.

The old cliché, “It takes 10,000 hours to master something,” is true, but, those 10,000 hours have to be fully-focused, undistracted, quality hours.

You can’t go to the basketball court everyday and just sit on the floor for 10,000 hours and expect to make buckets like Michael Jordan. Those hours need to be full of undivided, quality concentration.

Same goes for studying.

The time spent studying—or doing anything for that matter—needs to be concentrated, quality and fully focused. Simply studying for 5 hours because 5 hours seems like a lot of time will get you nowhere fast.

Without further ado, here are my 3 best tips to stay fully concentrated while studying:

1. Turn your freaking phone off.

My boss/friend/mentor Nicolas Cole stresses this more than anyone.

We live in the age of consumption. Whether it’s a text, email, snapchat, social notification—whatever—those notifications are literally killing your concentration.

Every second you take to stop and look at your phone isn’t just lost time—it’s lost train-of-thought.

2. Breaks are vital to your study success.

Trying to power through an obvious lull hurts more than it helps.

No one can sit and study for 10 hours straight. To be honest, it’s hard for most people to spend a full 60 minutes fully concentrated.

What you need to do, is take calculated breaks. Study for 10 minutes, then take a 5 minute break. Even if that break is just getting up to stretch or drink a glass of water, it will help you to relax and recharge.

It’s much more beneficial to spend short bursts of time fully concentrated than hours on end of half-concentrated, half-distracted studying.

3. Listen to your body.

This is the most important tip I can give you.

If you’re sick, be sick—don’t study. If you’re hungry, eat something (healthy, to avoid lethargy later on)—then, study after you eat. If you’re truly exhausted, nap—study later.

And if you feel great, well, study!

This point relates to point #2 in a lot of ways. If you’re really feeling unmotivated or can’t seem to concentrate, don’t force yourself to keep on pushing. If you try pushing though exhaustion or an illness, you’re likely going to forget what you’re trying to focus on anyway. Plus, you’ll be even more exhausted or feel even more under the weather. It’s a lose/lose.

Let me be clear: this is NOT an excuse to be lazy or procrastinate.

There is a fine line between ‘not feelin’ it’ and true exhaustion. If you choose not to study because you’re not in the mood—tough shit. No one ‘likes’ studying.

But if you’re really truly exhausted and can’t concentrate, don’t force feed your brain information—it’s not going to retain any of it.

If you like this , check out more on https://moinulkarim.com/how-to-focus-on-studying-for-exams/

#studyblr #studygram #studytips #studytechniques #studymotivation #studentblog #studentblogger

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tourfusionindia · 7 days

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The Best Car Rental Deals in Jaipur: Your Guide for a Majestic Rajasthan Tour

Planning an unforgettable voyage to the heart of India's royal heritage? Look no further! Jaipur, the vibrant capital of Rajasthan, awaits with its breathtaking palaces, formidable forts, and colorful streets. And what better way to explore this majestic city than at your own pace, with the best car rental services in Jaipur? Here's your comprehensive, no-fuss guide to unlocking the best deals for a seamless and splendid Rajasthan tour.

Why Choose Car Rental Services in Jaipur?

Embracing the tech-savvy traveler in you means valuing freedom, flexibility, and the comfort of exploring at your own speed. Car rental services in Rajasthan, especially in the bustling city of Jaipur, provide just that. Forget about sticking to tight schedules or missing out on hidden gems. With a vehicle at your disposal, you have the liberty to craft your journey as you see fit.

Identifying the Best Deals

Just like finding the perfect domain for your website, securing the best car rental deal requires a bit of research and know-how. Here are some surefire tips to ensure you get the most value without compromising on quality or experience:

Compare Options: Don't settle for the first offer you come across. Use reputable comparison websites or apps to weigh different car rental services in Jaipur. Much like choosing a web hosting provider, looking into customer reviews, service range, and pricing can guide you to the best option.

Book Early: Procrastination isn't your friend when it comes to booking car rentals. Early reservations often come with better rates and wider vehicle selections. It's akin to catching early-bird offers for web hosting services—you secure the best deals before anyone else does.

Choose the Right Vehicle: Consider your group size, luggage needs, and travel comforts. Compact cars might offer better rates, but a larger vehicle could enhance your tour's overall comfort and experience. It's all about finding the right balance—much like tailoring web hosting solutions to fit your specific digital needs.

Understand the Terms: Transparency is key. Make sure you fully understand the rental agreement, including any limits on mileage, insurance coverage, and additional fees. This clarity will prevent unexpected surprises, akin to choosing a web hosting plan with no hidden costs.

Look for Offers and Discounts: Keep an eye out for promotional deals, especially during off-peak seasons. Signing up for newsletters or loyalty programs from car rental services in Rajasthan can also lead to exclusive offers, ensuring you always get top-notch value.

Making the Most of Your Car Rental Experience in Jaipur

With your car rental sorted, it's time to dive into the heart and soul of Rajasthan. Jaipur, with its rich tapestry of history, culture, and majestic architecture, promises a journey unlike any other. Here's how to elevate your road trip across this royal landscape:

Plan Your Route: Chart out a route that includes not just the iconic attractions like the Amber Fort, Hawa Mahal, and City Palace, but also hidden gems off the beaten path. This flexibility is one of the biggest perks of opting for car rental services in Jaipur.

Embrace Local Culture: Take detours. Stop by roadside eateries. Dive into local markets. Your rental car gives you the freedom to immerse yourself in authentic Rajasthani culture at your leisure.

Stay Connected: While exploring, make sure your vehicle is equipped with a reliable GPS or have an offline map downloaded. Staying connected is crucial, much like having round-the-clock support from your web hosting service while running a website.

Safety First: Always prioritize safety. Ensure your rental car is in excellent condition, familiarize yourself with local driving norms, and always have emergency contacts handy.

Capture Memories: Lastly, don't forget to document your journey. The scenic routes and architectural marvels of Jaipur offer perfect backdrops for unforgettable memories.

Your Partner in Discovery

Just as eXact Digital commits to making web hosting services effortlessly accessible and remarkably reliable, our guide to the best car rental deals in Jaipur is designed to simplify your travel planning process. We understand the importance of quality, affordability, and exceptional customer service in every adventure you embark on.

Ready to explore Jaipur and the grandeur of Rajasthan with unbeatable freedom and comfort? Start your journey with the right car rental service, and make your experience truly majestic. Remember, every journey starts with a single step—or in this case, a single click. Book your perfect ride today, and dive into the heart of Rajasthan with confidence and ease.

Embark with us as your guide, and let's transform your Rajasthan tour into a journey of discovery, majesty, and unforgettable memories. Safe travels!

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june-again · 3 years

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I hope this isn't a weird question but what are your grades like?? Do you have any tips for studying and getting work done?? I can't seem to focus on anything 😭

ajhdsFd um i always work my hardest in all my courses bc im like that 😭😭 i've had straight A's for years but umm im a tryhard

a few tips? okay um lemme think about that for a sec. this is also something i struggle with because attention span = does not exist. (sorry if these are completely useless lmfao)

um also this got to almost 1k words so TL;DR: just put away distractions and do it. it's not as hard as you think. and learn to associate good emotions with homework - procrastinating is in fact a mental blockage but you can overcome it !!

1. make yourself interested in the subject. this is key. this will help you remember things and want to learn things. how can you get yourself interested? - if it's a science/history type of subject DEFINITELY try to find a case example instead of just trying to memorize facts. youtube videos help with this in some cases. learn about one specific thing in the area, and it will be easier to relate other concepts to that. - if it's more process related than fact related - for instance, doing math, find something you like about it. something that's the same every time. and enjoy doing that. that's why i love doing trig n stuff - i like putting in the cos and sin and stuff i love how that's always the same. or like - i like the satisfaction of completing a question. - if it's writing !! make it related to something you like!! you might not always have much freedom, but writing about something you have a lot of interest/knowledge about is vastly easier. if you have to write an essay on the effect of pollution on the environment or something, you should do a lot of pre-research so that you're not constantly going between websites and you have more time to just let your thoughts flow. it's much more fun that way.

2. get rid of distractions. BESTIE I KNOW. I DON'T WANNA PUT MY PHONE ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE ROOM EITHER. I DON'T WANNA STOP OPENING TUMBLR. but it's so important. - stay 'mindful.' i hate that phrase as much as anyone but it's important to be present in the moment and aware where your time is going. - don't feel guilty about missing things. it can't be helped. everyone misses things. you don't have to be there for every second of everything. you sleep, sometimes, right? and you miss things while you sleep? sleep is important, sleep helps you get through your day and make progress in life (more on that later). so if you can take a break from social media to sleep, you also can take one for doing homework. - ok ok this is the best thing ever. i saw it in a lifehacks video and i'm in love with it LMAO. if you insist on having your phone near you - PUT A WATER BOTTLE ON TOP OF IT. rest that mf on top of your screen so when you go to look at your phone at LEAST YOU'RE GETTING HYDRATED AMIRIGHT?!?!?

3. just do it. okay, you deserve breaks, you deserve to rest. but sometimes you're just putting it off with every excuse you have even though you know once you start you'll be fine. so how do you get yourself to start?? - as mentioned, you gotta put those distractions away. it's not gonna happen if you're still sitting there on tik tok. if you have to - (this is what i sometimes do) delete the apps that are distracting you. - look at the assignment. even if you feel like you can't work right now, or like you can't focus, just set a little goal for yourself. read the assignment and do the first question. review the notes. break it up. sometimes all you need is to complete your first little goal, and then you're like -- ah, doing a little more won't hurt.

4. take care of yourself. HONEY IDC WHETHER YOU HOT THE BEST GRADES OR THE WORST. YOU HAVE TO SLEEP AND EAT. prioritize taking care of yourself and doing what you need. - i know how fun it is to stay up and how good it feels to be sleep deprived/hj but it SERIOUSLY makes it so hard to get anything done if your mind needs sleep. humans did not invent sleep to impair your schedule. humans invented schedules to impair sleep. -sara 2021 - you got this. don't compare yourself to others. your best is always enough. pushing yourself is good for growth but right now, if getting a single assignment done feels that intimidating, then maybe that is all you can do today. it's about building habits of being able to work hard and if you are out of the loop that i understand how hard it is to get back in again.

okay so um i kinda just . sorry i didn't mean to go on that long. i doubt any of that is helpful.

i sound like a wikihow article wtf. anyways happy studying. i love you for asking me this even though i know you were probably looking for, like, a few tips. i just :( school important kyds

#elk's asks #anon! 💕#oops #study tips #studyblr #lmao i never thought i'd use that tag #sorry #goodbye #im ashamed of myself rn

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neeeta · 2 years

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Get to know me

Read more if you wanna know.. (Reposted from @y-not-loki)

Write in your favourite pen and describe it. Black artline, it glides as the ink flows out from the tip. The ink doesn’t stop, it doesn’t glitch.

Favourite colour? Blue, always gonna be blue

Top 10 songs. There’s too many... 1. My Chemical Romance x 2. Face Down by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus 3. Little Things by Good Charlotte 4. Those Nights by Skillet 5. Hum Hallelujah by Fall Out Boy 6. EVERYTHING by Amy Shark 7. Stop Sign by ABS

Top 10 books. I don’t read a whole bunch but the Twilight books, “The other side of the story”, “A street cat called Bob” and “Fog the Dox”

Top 10 films/movies. 1. Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children 2. Space Jam 3. Twilight 4. 3 Men and a Baby 5. Spirit 6. Ghostbusters 7. Jurassic Park 8. About Time 9. Harry Potter #1 10. Van Helsing

Most recent movie? I met a girl (2020)

Last time you cried and why? The end of the Netflix series ‘Dash and Lily’

Water, juice, soft drink, coffee or tea? And what kind? Coffee because Blake makes the best and I’ve been having it everyday.

Music or lyrics? Why? Lyrics because they carry the meaning.

Books or movies? Why? Movies because I like visuals

A5 or A4 notebooks? A5 because they’re more secretive

How many followers do you have and how long have you had your Tumblr account? 75 and for a long time

Original URL (if you change it a lot)? I haven’t changed it

Do you keep a diary? It’s messy

Do you keep a journal? I try to..

Favourite season? Winter but I was thinking of TV series.. hahaha

Marvel or DC? Why? Neither.. I love independent movies

Are you good with technology? Yeah

Any sort of musical talent? I sing badly

Favourite job you’ve had (if you’ve ever been employed)? I don’t wanna talk about work

Favourite school subject/uni class? Film

Least favourite school subject/uni class? Maths

Tumblr crushes? So many!

Favourite swear word. Fuck

Favourite word. Scarlet or Violet

Least favourite word? The c word

Favourite food and why? Pasta

Do you prefer cold temperatures or hot temperatures? Cold

Bath or shower, and why? Shower

Would you prefer to burn to death or freeze to death, and why? Freeze

Many acquaintances, or very little close friends? Little close friends

Does anyone IRL know your Tumblr account and interact with it regularly? One or two know it but no one interacts with it IRL

Have you ever been assumed to be something you’re not, and what was it? Why was it? Did they ever give you a reason? Not really, people think I’m shy and weird ...and I am

Favourite scent? Something floral or sweet

Favourite memory? I have so many

Candle or electric lantern? Candle, I like the off-the-grid life

Morning or evening, and why? It changes. At the moment, it’s evening.

Paper scissors rock or rock paper scissors or some other variation? Paper, scissors, rock obviously

Do you procrastinate? How much if you do procrastinate? Yes and too much

What country do you live in and what do you know it for? You can also assume what you think others know your country for. Australia, I think it’s known for it’s beaches.

Organised mess or unorganised mess? I am an unorganised mess!

Would you ever dye your hair? Already have and loved it!

Would you ever get a tattoo? Nah

What country would you like to visit and why? Ireland, Iceland, Italy, England and New Zealand (again)

What city would you like to visit and why? Amsterdam

Would you leave your country for a better place and why? Yeah, if I loved a place enough to leave.

Why do humans exist and what was their purpose? To love and find their soul mates.

#im bored #draft posts #talk to me #if you want

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nattyice · 4 years

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So, ended up actually not getting up early at all haha. Woke up at 11 :/ but only because I stayed up all night binging this new series on Netflix called The Queen’s Bandit. It was so good, I couldn’t stop watching it! It is one of the few tv shows I have been able to finish completely and I definitely recommend it to anyone who needs something to watch. It really empowered me to work hard for my dreams/goals and to not get discouraged even when I face life challenges. Anyways, if you decide to watch it, or have watched it already, message me! I haven’t found anyone who has finished it and I am dying to talk about it with someone :)

I still have my two essays due this week (one Friday and one Sunday) and I also have my blog post, which I have started working on. This week has been kind of slow in that I haven’t really been working as much as I want to and I keep procrastinating/getting distracted.

I have been neglecting my language studies also :/. I find it hard to work on Japanese or French with all of my college classes in tow. Does anyone have any helpful tips on how to keep up your motivation when self-studying a language?

If you read this far leave a comment about yourself! I would love to get to know more people :)

~Pics found on Google~

#studyblr #studyspo #studying #study hard #study #study struggles #college #journal #bullet journal #bujo #queens bandit #language learning #language #japanese #french #langblr #study notes #study aesthetic

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nayutai · 4 years

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Bad Boy Bakery

↠ Pairing Yeosang x Female OC

↠ Genre fluffy dirty angst

↠ Word Count 11.806

↠ Warnings infidelity (kinda sorta), mutual pining, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), foul language, crude jokes, fingering, tattooed yeosang, mentions of criminal activity

↠ Summary Yeosang has a storied past and most of it is documented at the local police station. That’s the past though. These days he’s too busy running a semi-successful bakery with his best friends. After securing an order for the engagement party of well-known socialite Ivy Maxwell, he thinks his business might finally be taking off. He may have bitten off more than he could chew though.

It’s decided. Yeosang is going back to jail. Why he thought hiring the seven other misfits he used to run with to work in his bakery was a good idea he’ll never know. Bad Boy Bakery was supposed to be his way to get his life back on the right track and all these heathens do is test him every single day. He does a quick mental calculation of how much money is stashed around his house and he’s positive he’s got enough to post bail for a simple assault charge, but then again they might try to make an example of him considering his impressive arrest record. With the way he’s being tested at this moment though, he’s willing to spend every penny if it means he gets to beat Mingi into oblivion.

“Mingi, I swear to God if you fuck up another batch of egg whites I’m going to shove that whisk in your ear and beat your brains.” He glares at the clumsy giant vigorously whisking a bowl full of egg whites that already look like they’re begging for mercy. They have to have a full dessert spread ready for an engagement party that’s taking place in less than six hours and Mingi has ruined more eggs than Yeosang is even comfortable counting.

“Man, shut up. I did three years upstate. My arms are too damn strong for this which is exactly why I told your dumb ass to do it.” Everybody groans out loud at having to hear that exact phrase for what has to be the millionth time.

“That was over a year ago and you haven’t lifted anything heavier than a bag of flour ever since. Give it a rest.” Wooyoung garners a round of hearty laughter at his dig, looking quite pleased with himself at successfully bashing his friend.

“I make up for it by jacking off five times a day instead of four now so my point still stands.”

“I hope you wash your hands just as much.” The group of tattooed bakers loudly express their disgust when Mingi gives them nothing but a devious grin in response. Mingi, on the other hand, is phased by neither his friends’ disgust not Yeosang’s bristling anger as he dumps his third attempt at the egg whites into the garbage. So much for third time’s the charm.

Yep, Yeosang is going back to jail.

Ivy is resigned as she carefully sweeps her brush across both of her cheekbones. The glittery gold of the highlight powder left in its wake perfectly complements the rich sepia tone of her skin. She’s just as precise in the application of her lipstick. Slowly, but surely, painting her lips a deep purple. She sighs as she gives herself a final once over in her vanity mirror. The inky black curls that normally adorn her head like a crown have been forced into straightened submission indicative of her mother’s urge to impress the crowd of people that Ivy can already hear beginning to gather downstairs. Her left hands feels uncomfortably heavy as it has ever since this nightmare first began.

As if sensing her procrastination, Ivy’s mother Yvette comes striding into her daughter’s bedroom. It’s easy to tell how much she’s enjoying playing her mother of the bride role. She hasn’t stopped smiling since Ivy’s engagement to her long-time “boyfriend” was officially announced last month. Needless to say, she’s the only one finding any joy in this situation.

“Ivy, sweetie, hurry up and come downstairs. Everyone is waiting to see you.”

“Yeah, right.” Ivy scoffs in response. “They just want to see this.” Yvette frowns at the way Ivy glares in disdain at the stunning ring adorning her finger.

“Ivy Elaine Peters, you better get it to together right now. Keeping this family business afloat requires sacrifice and its your turn now stop moping and get your narrow ass downstairs.” Her mother disappears back out the door before Ivy can get in a word of her own. Not that it would have mattered. Her fate has been sealed for the past twenty four years.

She slips her feet into the black patent leather pumps still sitting pretty in the box on her canopy bed. The red soled beauties are sure to provide more status than comfort, but such is life. Ivy gives herself one final pep talk, smoothing out the imaginary wrinkles in her slip dress. She looks more like a fashionable mourner than a blushing bride but this is her silent protest. She’ll make her damn sacrifice but she’ll dig her heels in wherever she can.

Ivy quickly spots her fiancee Seokjin cracking jokes with a few of her cousins near the front door. He beams at her when he catches her eye across the room, breaking away to come greet her. Not for the first time, Ivy wonders why she couldn’t just fall in love with him to make this whole process easier. Their families have known each other longer than they’ve both been alive so they grew up as best friends. Plus, Seokjin is genuinely a great guy. He’s charismatic, kind, and attractive to the point of unfairness. She has no doubt that he’d make a fantastic husband for someone. She just wishes that she wasn’t that someone. The only positive is that Seokjin feels the exact same way. He loves Ivy to pieces in the most platonic way possible. She’s quite possibly the last person he would ever consider marrying, but business is business and this is a merger that must be made.

“You look absolutely stunning, Vee.” She smiles gratefully at his compliment as he bends slightly to kiss her on the cheek. A camera flashes somewhere off to her right so she makes sure to play her happiness up for the photographer. With the combined notoriety of their families, any pictures taken tonight are sure to be all over the local and regional news outlets by morning.

“I could say the same about you, Jinnie.” The tips of his ears turn red as they always do whenever anyone compliments him. Ivy giggles playfully when he ducks the hand reaching up to tweak on of them like she always does, choosing instead to square up like he’s ready for a fight. Oh, Jin, ever the entertainer. The numerous peals of laughter that erupt around the couple as they take turns jabbing at each other like children tells her that their antics are paying off.

The two imposters spend the night putting on one hell of a show. Anyone would be hard pressed to find someone that didn’t think they’re madly in love with one another. Their parents couldn’t be more ecstatic about this outcome if they tried.

Everyone is seated at the lavishly decorated tables set up in the backyard as an army of waiters replaces empty entree plates with various cakes and tarts that look almost too delectable to eat. The cheesecake placed in front of Ivy looks nearly too beautiful to eat. Topped with fresh berries and drizzled in what smells like some sort of hazelnut sauce. She wishes she hadn’t left her cellphone upstairs so that she could take a quick picture of it for her instagram. When she finally gets over her reluctance, she take a small bite. A borderline pornographic moan escapes her lips, catching Jin way off guard.

“What the hell wa-” Ivy cuts him off by shoving a forkful of the cheesecake into his open mouth. He groans in pleased delight, attempting to go in with his own fork for another bite, but she quickly slaps his hand away.

“Let me taste yours. Bite for a bite.” She pretends not to notice him sneaking another bite of her cheesecake while she tastes the chocolate tart in front of him. A hint of red chili lends a kick that perfectly rounds out the sweetness of the chocolate and the fresh whipped cream the dessert is topped in.

“I don’t know what bakery they used but we need to get them to do the cake for the wedding.” Jin declares as he practically inhales the chocolate tart. He signals the waiter to bring them two more for them to try while Ivy hums in agreement at his side. She makes a mental note to ask her mother who was hired to do the desserts tomorrow as she happily digs into the coconut cream cake being set in front of her.

Yeosang stares in awe at the payment he’s just received for the engagement party they’d done three days ago. His bakery has been faring better than most businesses do in their first year but the deposit currently pending with the bank is going to go a long way in making sure it stays that way. They had even sent two grand more than the $1,800 that the contract had stipulated. Yeosang had called immediately to make sure it wasn’t an accounting error because the last thing he wants is to be accused of stealing, but he’d been informed by the woman who had arranged the deal that her employers had been so satisfied with the food they wanted to “tip” him. Rich people are different.

He leaves his small office to clean up a little while it’s slow. He had let everyone else go early since there were no big orders to work on and Tuesdays are notorious dead zones. The bell above the door tinkles lightly as he cleans some wayward chocolate curls out of one of the display cases, cursing to himself because he’d told Seonghwa that he put too many but of course no one listens to him. Doesn’t matter that he signs those lazy bastards’ pay checks every week.

“Hello, how can I help you?” The young woman before him fidgets with the tie on her wrap dress inadvertently drawing Yesoang’s gaze to the womanly curves she possesses. The emerald green of the fabric highlights the warm undertones of her skin in a way that should definitely be illegal.

“My mother’s assistant told me that you did the desserts for my engagement party last night.” Yeosang curses mentally as he finally takes notice of the skating rink sitting on her left ring finger. He misses most of what she says next but tunes back in just in time to hear her ask if he’s available to do her wedding cake as well.

“What’s the date?” He questions, all business now that more money is on the table.

“September 9th. It’s going to be at the old vineyard across town.”

Yeosang nods in acknowledgment. He pencils her in and schedules a day in two weeks for her to come back with her fiancee to do a tasting and make final selections for the other desserts they’d like to have. Ivy is turning to leave when she catches sight of a full-sized version of the cheesecake she’d fallen in love with at the party.

“How much is that cheesecake?”

Yeosang follows her outstretched index finger to the hazelnut berry cheesecake that he’d come up with. It had taken him ages to perfect but hasn’t really taken off like he thought it would. Nevertheless, he makes sure to put one in the display case every day and he’s glad that he did.

“It’s $6 per slice. Did you want one?”

“How much for the whole thing?” Yeosang notices that she has yet to take her eyes off of the dessert.

“I’ll do $35 for you, beautiful.” For a second, he thinks that he may have overstepped his boundaries but she simply reaches into her bra to pull out a flashy, black card. The credit limit on that thing would probably pay off the loan on his storefront and then some.

He tries not to focus on how warm it is when she places it into his outstretched hand. He could’ve sworn that she intentionally let her fingers graze his own in a less than professional way. Yeosang shakes the thought away as that can only lead to trouble. He packs her cheesecake up while she signs the credit card receipt.

“Have a great day,” Yeosang pauses to look at the signature line of the receipt. “…Ivy.”

“Right back at you.” She winks at him playfully and sashays outside to her car. Yeosang’s eyes are trained on her until she’s seated in her seated in the black Audi he’s just now noticing was parked across the street.

Ivy calls Jin the second she steers her car back onto the road, waiting patiently for him to answer. She’s practically vibrating from the few minutes she’d spent with…fuck she’d forgotten to get his name but there is plenty of time for that. One thing she’s sure she’ll never forget is how hot he is. Ivy would’ve never guessed that she’d be attracted to someone with quite so many tattoos but on him they had looked like priceless works of art worthy of being placed in the Louvre.

“Hey, Vee, what’s up?”

“Two things. One, the bakery that did the desserts for the engagement party agreed to do the wedding.” Ivy curses at a slow driver that cuts her off at an intersection, losing her train of thought for a second.

“And the second thing?” Jin presses.

“Oh, I’m going to fuck the owner.” A thrill shoots through as she imagines those tattooed hands roaming every inch of her skin. She shifts uncomfortably in her seat as her body reacts to her impure thoughts.

“Absolutely love that for you. What’s his name?” Of course he asks her the one question that she doesn’t know the answer to. She rolls her eyes skyward as Jin starts talking shit when he realizes that she didn’t ask her new crush his name.

“I hate you.” She pouts as she turns onto her street. “We have a tasting scheduled for the 17th so I’ll ask him then. I’m almost home so I’ll text you later.”

“Smell ya later.” Oh what she’d give to flip him off right now.

The smile on her face when Ivy walks inside her parents’ house is genuine despite the fact that she’s spent all day doing wedding preparations which normally leaves her in a foul mood. Her high spirits don’t go unnoticed by her mother who is in the backyard pruning her orchids.

“What’s got you so happy?”

“The bakery that did the desserts for the engagement party agreed to do the wedding too. Also,” Ivy lifts the box holding God’s favorite cheesecake in the air. “he gave me a deal on the cheesecake that we liked.”

“Are you serious? He said that he was booked up the entire week of your wedding.” Ivy is a bit taken aback as he had specifically told her that he would be available, but she shrugs it off.

“Maybe he had a cancellation. Do want some cheesecake? This is your only offer because I fully plan to eat the whole thing right now.” Her mother tosses her pruning shears back into the box she keeps them in and follows Ivy into the kitchen where they make quick work of the heavenly dessert.

“Yeosang you fucking dumbass. How are we supposed to do a wedding and an anniversary party in the same damn day? Explain it to me.” Yeosang almost flinches when Yunho yells at him. He can’t think of a time the man has ever raised his voice before now and he’s known him since they were three. Not one to accept disrespect, Yeosang would normally react with anger of his own but even he has to admit that thinking with his dick has put them all in a bind. A socialite wedding and an anniversary party with a guest list longer than his body on the same day is going to take a miracle to pull off.

“Listen these rich people gave us two grand more than they were supposed to as a fucking tip. If they had asked me to get ass naked and let people eat pineapple rings off my dick I would’ve said yes.”

“She had big tits didn’t she?” Jongho typically stays out of their petty arguments but he knows bullshit when he hears it.

“Yes, but,” The room erupts into a cacophony of groans as they all simultaneously throw the closest object at hand Yeosang’s hand. Luckily for him he’s always been quick on his feet. “What’s done is done you fuckwads so get over it and start mixing. We still have orders to fill.”

All eight of them are covered in flour from their frantic baking when they hear the bell jingling up front. Hongjoong happens to be the only one able to immediately stop what he’s doing so he washes his hands and goes to attend to the customer. Yeosang nearly falls backwards off of his stool when he hears the voice of the woman that had put them in such a bind. Wooyoung and San exchange curious glances before they wipes their hands on the front of their aprons and head up front as well. Yeosang feels like his stomach is going to fall out of his ass as one by one they all abandon their posts.

“Satan, why are you doing this to me?”

There’s no reason for him to stay in the back like a coward so he follows suit, wiping his hands and going to the front counter as well. They’re all squished together behind the counter trying to get as close to her as possible. Yeosang shoulders his way between Jongho and Seonghwa and he finally understands why they all look like lovestruck school boys. He finds himself looking just as dopey as his friends when she turns that megawatt smile on him. She’s dressed a lot more casually today in a pair of jeans that had to have been painted on and a plain white baby tee. The little jewel glittering in her belly button looks like its winking at him and he has the overwhelming urge to flick it with his tongue.

“Another cheesecake?” He nods his head towards the box cradled in her hands. She looks sheepish at being caught out. Yeosang thinks it’s cute.

“In my defense, it’s tasty as hell.”

“Just make sure you tell everyone where you got it.” He winks at her playfully which was an incredibly bad idea. She sinks her teeth into her plump lower lip and he knows immediately that despite the massive rock on her finger he would still make a move on her. Time to leave before he does something stupid.

“Alright you lazy sacks of shit, back to work.” They protest just as he’d expected but he pushes them all back towards the kitchen, rolling his eyes as they try to resist him.

“Hey, wait!” Yeosang shouldn’t have turned around. He should’ve kept going as if he hadn’t even heard her, but no, he just has to have manners. She’s propped herself up against the counter that makes her breasts nearly pop out of the scoop neck line of her shirt. “What’s your name?”

“Yeosang.” She repeats it back to him, testing it out on her tongue. Her voice curls around the syllables lusciously and he could die right where he stood. At this point, he’s convinced that she’s made it her life’s mission to ruin him.

Ivy is quick to call Jin when she gets back to her car which seems to be the norm every time she goes to the bakery. She knows that he’s going to make fun of her for being so excited, but she can’t exactly tell her other friends about the hot, tattooed bakery owner that she plans to screw so she’ll suffer the consequences. At least now she actually knows his name so he can’t hold that over her head anymore.

The 17th has finally rolled around which means Ivy has another opportunity to draw Yeosang into her trap. Jin currently sits cross-legged on the bed in his guest room where Ivy had spent the previous night as she models her potential outfit for the day. The yellow slip dress has potential, but Jin isn’t totally impressed. He sends her back into the closet to try on one of her other options. She reappears in a fiery orange tank top tucked into a pair of lightly distressed white jeans.

“Your ass looks great in the jeans so that’s a definite yes, but I’m not really feeling this shirt.” Jin comments as Ivy does a slow turn in front of him. He crosses the room to his closet to help her go through the clothes she’d brought with her to see what her other options are. He eventually helps her settle on a simple black tank top that perfectly molds to the curves of a figure.

“Alright let’s go eat some cake and hopefully get your cakes smashed.” Jin remarks as he herds Ivy towards the door.

When they arrive at the bakery, Yeosang has just finished putting out the tasting plates that he’d prepared. Jin is too focused on the fact that he gets to eat cake before lunch without anyone scolding him for it to notice the way that Yeosang’s face falls when he sees him walking in with Ivy. She doesn’t miss it though. Nevertheless, he reaches out to introduce himself.

“Yeosang. Nice to meet you.” Jin reciprocates his greeting before pulling out a chair for Ivy to sit down in.

Things are all business from there on as Yeosang slides the first cake towards them and Ivy has never been more disappointed in her entire life. Gone is the Yeosang that called her beautiful and responded well to her flirting. She blames Jin.

“So this first one is a spiced vanilla cake with a raspberry cream cheese frosting with a little orange zest.” Ivy is so focused on the way Yeosang’s lips are moving that Jin has to elbow her to bring her back to reality. She sheepishly accepts the fork that she hadn’t realized was being presented to her to taste the masterpiece in front of her.

As they talk about what they like and don’t like about the cake, Yeosang hands them each a scoring cards to rank their favorites. Regardless of the way she feels about him on a personal level, Ivy has to admit that Yeosang is incredibly good at what he does. He was able to take her obsession with his cheesecake and come up with such interesting cake options. She’d been slightly concerned that he hand’t asked for her likes or dislikes in terms of taste, but as they move from cake to cake she realizes that he didn’t need to. Everything tastes amazing. It’s no surprise that each cake receives the highest score possible on their scoring cards. Deciding which one to go with is going to be hell.

“If you don’t let me have the spiced vanilla one we tried first I am calling off this engagement and marrying Yeosang instead of you.” Ivy stands corrected. Yeosang chuckles lowly at Jin’s enthusiasm and the throaty sound sends a shiver down her spine. It’s unfair just how effortlessly attractive he is.

“Okay folks, let’s talk decorations.” Yeosang reaches to his right, pulling a sketch pad from the empty chair next to him. His hand loosely grips a pencil as he waits for Ivy and Jin to throw some ideas at him. Ivy would prefer to throw herself at him instead, but someone how she manages to focus her brain on cake design.

Both Ivy and Jin agree on the fact that they want something simple, but beyond that they have clue what they want. Yeosang busts out a quick sketch of a three tier cake with fondant branches bearing dogwood flowers climbing the height of it. When he presents the rough drawing to them, Ivy immediately falls in love. Thankfully, Jin agrees because she was prepared to fight him over this. They spend a little while longer picking out other desserts for people who don’t want or can’t have cake, but all too soon Yeosang is watching the happy couple disappear from his shop.

The six months until the wedding seem to blend together. Business has picked up significantly in the previous weeks which has been good for Yeosang in more ways than one. The extra cashflow has allowed him to get ahead on some bills while also giving everybody a bit of a raise. According to Seonghwa, who is primarily in charge of the front counter since accidentally slicing his hand open, a lot of the new customers have been big names in the community that are connected to Ivy or her family in one way or another. The woman in question often stops in for a cheesecake. She always asks to speak to Yeosang, claiming to have questions about the wedding though he gets the feeling that she really just wants to talk to him. Every day it gets harder and harder to resist her flirtatious advances. He refuses to be a casual fling for some bored rich girl no matter how much his dick begs him to. Especially one with rapidly approaching nuptials.

Yeosang has never been a very spiritual person, but when he gets the call that the anniversary party he’d scheduled Ivy’s wedding over had been cancelled due to the wife having the flu, he knows that some divine being is looking out for him. He had planned to do his best, but with only one more week left to prepare he was still very unsure of how he was going to pull off two events of that scale in one day. The husband Johnathan Tooney, current district attorney in the next county over, sounds shocked on the phone when he offers them a full refund despite the fact that his contracts states that customers are only entitled to a fifty percent refund of any money paid if the event is cancelled the week of. Most of his customers pay half upfront and the remaining half afterwards, but they had chosen to pay for everything up front. Something Yeosang had greatly appreciated as it was a $2,600 job. Ultimately, Mr. Tooney tells him not to as they intend to reschedule the party as soon as his wife is feeling better and would still like for him to provide the desserts they’d contracted for.

The guys are all equally relieved when Yeosang delivers the news of the anniversary party’s cancellation. Things are smooth sailing from there as they throw all of their focus and energy into making sure that everything will be ready for the wedding next weekend. Not surprisingly, Ivy doesn’t make an appearance in the bakery that week, but what is surprising is that Yeosang finds himself actually missing her presence. Despite his avoidance of all her flirting, he actually likes talking to Ivy whenever she comes in. She may be a bored rich girl but her mind is just as captivating as the rest of her.

On the day of the ceremony, Yeosang is uncharacteristically antsy. He’s not sure what it is but he can’t seem to sit still no matter what he does. He’s itching to get this day over with so Mingi can buy him the beer he owes him. Wooyoung scolds him for being distracted when he almost drops one of the cake tiers on his way to load it into one of the delivery vans. No one has to vocalize just how disastrous that would’ve been because they all know but missing an opportunity to call people out on their shit is just not in Wooyoung’s nature.

“Look, I know you’re feeling some type of way because your crush is marrying a pretty boy that’s not you but I’m going to need you to at least pretend that you still want to get paid for this job.” Yeosang nods in acknowledgment because while he doesn’t like being yelled at like a child even he knows that he’s got to get his shit together and quickly.

“Notice how he didn’t deny his crush on cheesecake girl though.” San pipes up as he hops into the drivers seat of the van. Everyone snickers, switching to full on laughter when Yeosang flips them all off.

Thankfully, the reception goes off without a hitch. The wait staff helps set up the extensive dessert table to save on time and it comes out just as Yeosang had envisioned it. He snaps a few pictures for the bakery’s website before they leave venue. Ivy and Jin had extended invitations to Yeosang and his staff to stay for the reception, but they’d all politely declined. They’re on their way out of the service entrance when one of the girls on the wait staff runs out with two giant paper bags in her hands. Apparently, Ivy had included enough meals in her catering package to feed the vendors that would be in the building on her big day which coincidentally included Yeosang and his gang of merry bakers. They’re all taken aback by the thoughtfulness of the gesture as Yeosang accepts the bags from the staff member who quickly runs back inside the dining hall.

“Cheesecake girl is a fucking saint.” Mingi hardly ever garners emphatic agreement from the rest of his friend group but today is one of those rare occasions.

Business continues as normal following the wedding. Product is flying out of the display case. Catering orders are still coming in left and right. Ivy still stops in once a week for a cheesecake and to flirt with Yeosang. The guys still tease him for his crush on said married woman. Everything is normal.

Until it’s not.

Jin looks like freshly printed money when he strolls into Bad Boy Bakery for the first time since the cake tasting all those months ago. The silver band on his ring finger glitters even in the fluorescent lighting. Yeosang is finishing up his closing routine when he hears the bell and emerges from his office.

“Seokjin?” The manila folder clasped in the other man’s hands makes Yeosang nervous. The last time someone in a suit approached him with a manila folder he was being presented with a plea deal and ended up doing ten months in jail for assault and grand larceny.

“We need to talk. I’ll wait for you to finish up.” Jin takes a seat at an empty table and hums to himself as he waits for Yeosang to join him.

He doesn’t have to wait long for the young business owner to emerge from his office with his keys and a denim jacket in hand. The mischievous smile on Jin’s face makes him uneasy, but he’s no bitch. Yeosang steels his nerves and schools his facial expression into one of bland indifference. He arches an eyebrow when Jin slides the folder across the table and produces a pen from the breast pocket of his suit jacket. The folder may as well be a poisonous spider with the way Yeosang refuses to touch it.

“Whatever you think it is, I promise it’s not that.” Yeosang stares Jin down for a few seconds, looking for anything at all that would suggest he should end this whole interaction right now. He doesn’t find it.

With a resigned sigh, Yeosang flips through the contents of an envelope. He shoots Jin a look when he realizes that he’s currently skimming over a nondisclosure agreement. It looks to be focused around Ivy and Jin’s marriage. The word arranged jumps out him a few times and his eyes nearly bug out of his head. The agreement is vague on the finer details but Yeosang is comfortable enough with what he’s read to quickly scrawl his name at the bottom of the last page. Jin signs his name as witness and neatly tucks everything back into the manila folder.

“Now that we have that out of the way.” Jin relaxes back into the chair and fiddles with his wedding band. “Ivy likes you. She’ll never admit that because she’s stubborn but she likes you and wants you fold her like a towel.”

“Wait, wait, wait, are you saying that your wife wants to have sex with me? How are you okay with this?” Yeosang has always loved forbidden fruit but ruining relationships was the old him. He doesn’t know what to do with this information. Furthermore, he can’t imagine being married to someone like Ivy and being okay with her sleeping with someone else.

“That’s where the NDA comes in.” Yeosang sits in stunned silence as Jin gives him the true behind the scenes story about he and Ivy’s marriage and it’s nothing like the best friends to lovers trope that they’ve fed to society. Well, he guesses the best friend part is true, but they’ve definitely never been anything close to lovers and never will be. They’re simply holding up their end of a decades-old business deal. According to Jin, he and Ivy have already devised a plan to be divorced in a year.

“So,” Yeosang is a bit unsure on how to proceed. This is uncharted territory. “what exactly are you saying to me?”

“Stop feeling bad about wanting to fuck Ivy and just do it. She’s driving me insane at home talking about how hot you are all the time and I can’t take it anymore. She’s out of cheesecake so she’ll be in here within the next couple of days so make your move. Discreetly.”

Yeosang lays in bed that night still shocked at everything he’s learned today. His mind and body have been at war over what he believes to be right and what his body craves. He’d love nothing more than to worship Ivy from head to toe and before today it had been a pipe dream. Now that he’s been given the green light, he’s still conflicted. It feels too good to be true. But he plans to take full advantage of all the good that comes his way until shit decides to hit the fan.

Ivy gives herself a final once over in the mirror. Her outfit is simple. Just a black bodycon dress paired with a denim jacket and her red converse. According to Jin, she should look like she’s making an effort but not too much of one. She’s hoping that this will do the trick as she grabs for her keys and purse, stuffing her phone into the latter as she waits for the elevator to reach the ground floor.

She wants to call Jin for some last minute encouragement on the way over, but he’s being a boring businessman today and is in the middle of a meeting. Ivy is totally on her own and she’s panicking. Hopefully, Yeosang finds her nervousness cute enough to overlook the awkwardness.

When Ivy enters the bakery, one of Yeosang’s friends is manning the counter. A gentle giant with a kind smile. She remembers that his name also starts with a Y like Yeosang’s but she can’t put her finger on exactly what it is.

“Hey, cheesecake girl!” Ivy rolls her eyes humorously at the nickname the other guys in the bakery have given her. She can’t help that the damned cheesecake tastes as good as it does. Before the wedding, she’d had to up her trips to the gym from zero to one just to make sure she’d still be able to fit into her dress on her wedding day.

Her heart drops a little when she scans the display case but sees no sign of the dessert that her soul craves. Yunho laughs are disappointment before disappearing into the kitchen. He returns with a box, smiling at the way her eyes light up.

“Yeosang is with the other guys on a job, but he said you’d be in today so he boxed it up before he left.” He slides the box across the glass countertop into her waiting hands. Ivy digs in her purse for her card to pay for the cheesecake, but Yunho is quick to stop her.

“This one’s on the house. Boss’ orders.” Ivy is a bit taken aback. Hand frozen in her purse. Yeosang makes sure that she always pays a discount rate for her cheesecake, but she’s never gotten one for free before.

“Oh…okay. Well, have a good day.”

It isn’t until she gets back to Jin’s place — well she guesses it’s her place now too — that she realizes why Yeosang had decided to pre-package her cheesecake this time. A phone number is scrawled on the inside of the lid with a quick message from Yeosang asking her to call him. She squeals as frantically scrambles to pull her phone from the recesses of her bag. Yunho had told her that Yeosang was out on a job so she texts him instead of calling so as not to disturb him.

She is happily digging her fork into a second piece of cheesecake when Ivy randomly recalls something weird that Jin had said this morning when he left for work. She was still half asleep and barely human, but now here she sits at the dining room table replaying the strange sentence that her brain had decided to finally comprehend.

Don’t forget to call the baker.

Ivy hadn’t been in the right headspace to question it then, but now that the puzzle pieces are clicking into place, it’s becoming painfully obvious that Jin had something to do with the reason she’s anxiously checking her phone every five minutes. The part of her that wants to chase him with a butter sock is overridden by the much larger part that wants to thank him profusely for whatever it is that he did. Unlike Jin, Ivy doesn’t have a harem of men, women, and others lined up to satisfy her needs whenever he’s feeling inclined.

She’s three episodes into a Cold Justice marathon when her phone rings, scaring the living daylights out of her. It’s Yeosang. Ivy’s eyes widen comically as she freaks out over what to do. She chugs the rum and coke she’d been nursing and picks up the call.

“Hello?” She cringes at how apprehensive she sounds even to her own ears.

“Hello, Ivy.” He sounds tired which has given his voice a gravelly edge to it that’s making her blood sing. “I saw your message and thought it would just be easier to call you.”

Ivy isn’t surprised in the slightest when Yeosang tells her about Jin’s visit to the bakery the night before. That’s a typical Jin move to jump the chain of command to accomplish a job. Yeosang doesn’t seem to bothered by the strangeness of it all. He seems more relieved that his guilt for lusting after a taken woman has been absolved if anything.

“This is a first for me so I’m not exactly sure what to do.” Yeosang trails off. He’s out of his element here. It goes without saying that there will be no romantic dinners at expensive restaurants or long walks to the beach.

“This is a first for me too, but you’re a hot baker that laughs at my stupid jokes and I like that.” His throaty laugh in response makes her chest swell with pride at

“I still want to take you on a date though so I guess your place or mine?”

Yeosang is sweating bullets as he punches in the elevator code for the penthouse suite in the swanky high rise at the address Ivy had given him. In his Michael Jackson t-shirt, ripped jeans, and sneakers, he knows that he sticks out like a sore thumb, but thankfully no one in the lobby had vocalized that to his face. He adjusts his duffel bag on his shoulder as the elevator smoothly ascends to the top floor. He’s been ecstatic when Ivy had told him that she wanted him to come spend the weekend with her since Jin would be out of town on business. This is going to be the first time that he’s seen her in person since they agreed to their little arrangement and he’s nervous to say the least.

The doors silently reveal a posh sitting area as well a lacquered black door adorned with a silver “P”. Yeosang grins at the door mat just outside the door. It depicts a crudely drawn cat with both middle fingers upturned and the words “fuck off” written in a speech bubble. It looks just as out of place as he does and for whatever reason it makes him feel more at ease. He reaches out to press the doorbell but the door is yanked open before he even gets the chance.

“Jesus Christ you scared me!” If his hands weren’t full of groceries, Yeosang would’ve clutched at his rapidly beating heart. Ivy chuckles, pointing to a little black dot above the door.

“We have cameras.”

She grabs for a few of the bags in his hands, but he twists and turns to block her efforts. Their childish antics continue until Yeosang has finally had enough. He crouches down until he’s able to wrap his arms around her thighs, delighting in her squeal when he successfully lifts her from the ground. Ivy swats at his shoulders, but the brute simply crosses the threshold, kicking the door shut with his foot before walking deeper into her home. This first “date” is off to a great start.

“So what’s on the agenda for today, Mr. Kang?” Ivy drums on the marble countertop enthusiastically as she watches Yeosang unpack the groceries he’d brought with him.

“As much as I love a good paying customer, It’s time for you to learn how to make this cheesecake yourself.”

“You better hope I suck at it or I’ll put you out of business.”

“I don’t mind a little competition.” Yeosang smiles deviously. “Especially when the rivals look as pretty as you.”

Ivy feels her cheeks heat up in the face of such flirtation and she’s never been more thankful for the fact that her darker complexion hides the evidence of it. She’s come to know him well enough to know that he would definitely rib her for that.

As it turns out, Ivy is a natural born baker. Yeosang’s heart swells in his chest as he watches her sway her hips to the music she’d turned on as she stirs the berry compote on the stove. His chest bumps against her back as he steps up behind her and he swears he sees her shiver. He rests his head on her shoulder, covering his hand with hers and slows down the speed of her stirring.

“You have to be gentle with the berries, love.” At the sound of his voice so close to her ear, Ivy’s insides turn to goo.

“Maybe I don’t want to be gentle.” Her words hit him square in the chest and he wants to respond in so many ways, but he settles for a chaste kiss on her temple. He’d briefly contemplated taking it slow with her, but they’ve been dancing around each other for nearly seven months at this point and there’s no point in prolonging the inevitable. The wanton desire is mutual on both sides but he wants to hear her beg. Wants her desperate and needy for him.

He eventually removes his hand from hers, choosing to instead hold onto her hips as he continues to coach her through the next steps. She’s so focused on keeping her berries from sticking that Yeosang is able to catch her off guard when he slips his hands inside her tank top to rest them against her bare skin. The gasp she lets out makes him smile deviously. His hands drift up from her lower stomach until his thumbs are brushing the lacy cups of her bra. It’s Yeosang’s turn to be caught off guard when she presses her ass firmly against his front. The way she subsequently swivels her hips is nearly his undoing, but Yeosang has a game plan and he intends to see it through.

“You’re a naughty girl, Ivy.” He lowers a hand to tug on the elastic waistband of the tiny shorts she’s wearing, letting it snap back in place. She hisses at the sting but, if the way her head lolls back onto his shoulder is any indication, she loved it. Yeosang slides his hand lower as if he’s going to cup her over her shorts only to completely remove himself from her.

He busies himself with other things around the kitchen but he can feel her glare on him the entire time. She grumbles something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like the words “teasing asshole” but he choose to ignore it. For now.

Ivy is visibly on edge as she waits for Yeosang to touch her again, but he doesn’t make a single move to do so. He simply dances around her in the kitchen as they finish up their cheesecake preparation. It has to cool once they take it out of the oven so they migrate to the living room while they wait. The episode of Bones that Ivy been watching before he’d arrived is still paused on the tv so she restarts it and settles in next to Yeosang on the couch. She lets out a girlish squeal when he hauls her into his lap instead. He spreads her legs so that they straddle both of his, letting out a content sigh as he rests his chin on her shoulder. Arms wrapped securely around her waist.

He waits until she’s engrossed in the episode. Certain that he’s going to keep his hands to himself. If he’d been able to see her face, he would’ve been able to see the devious grin as she devised a plan of her own. Ivy shifts her legs around until both of her feet are planted on the floor between Yeosang’s. She swivels her hips in the cradle of his lap, snickering at the groan he lets out. Two can play this teasing game. She grabs both of his hands in her own and lifts them to her breasts. Yeosang just lets them linger there. This is her show now and he wants to see her directing skills firsthand.

With her physical encouragement, he pinches her erect nipples through the thin layers of her shirt and bra. The breathy sigh in response to his touch gives him a high that he can quickly see himself becoming addicted to. She ups the ante by dislodging his hands to remove her shirt and bra. She places his hands back on her chest, sighing once more at the feel of him kneading her breasts without any hindrances. Yeosang licks and sucks at the column of her neck. He’s careful not to leave any marks which he’s sure she’ll be appreciative of later. Her needs grows and grows until she’s craving more than what he’s giving her.

“Yeosang,” The way she half moans his name sounds like the sweetest melody. “Touch me.”

“I am touching you, baby girl.” She grunts in frustration. Looks like she’ll have to take matters into her own hands once more.

Yeosang is shocked when Ivy suddenly rises to her feet. He’s more than confused as he watches her disappear down a hallway off to the right of the living room. His breath catches in his throat when her shorts suddenly fly back into view followed closely by a pair of panties that match the bra on the floor by his right foot. He nearly falls over in his haste to catch up to her. He finds her in the bedroom that she’d pointed out as hers when she’d given him a quick tour earlier. She’s reclined amongst the mountain of pillows circling her swollen clit with her middle finger as she fondles one of her breasts. Her mouth is slightly ajar from the pleasure and he swears that he’s never seen a sight more breathtaking. Yeosang swallows, trying to get his wits about him when she speaks and breaks him out of his daze.

“Clothes off, babe.” His limbs are a blur as he rushes to follow her instructions. With every inch of skin he reveals, Ivy finds herself falling deeper and deeper into his trap.

She’d seen the tattoos that covered his arms and the back of his right hand, but the Hebrew script running down his side is new to her and she makes a mental note to ask him what it says later. Right now she wants nothing more than for him to hold her down with his weight and make her his. Yeosang’s eyes are practically glued to her center so shiny from her arousal. He licks his lips at the thought of how good she probably tastes and the mere idea of having her on his tongue nearly consumes him.

Yeosang tugs on his hardened cock as he slowly walks towards the oversized bed. She’s mesmerized by the appendage standing proud between his legs. It’s not over long but he can barely get his own fist around it so she knows that the stretch will be phenomenal when he finally gets inside. He grabs her by both ankles and pulls her into the center of the bed so that she’s flat on her back. She squirms in anticipation as he crawls over her. Lips and hands caressing every inch of her skin that they can reach. She moans deep in her throat when he finally covers her lips with his own in their first ever kiss. Her fingers find purchase in his hair, holding him to her as they ravage each other. Each exhale from her lips traded for his.

Ivy is brought back to the task at hand when a needy thrust of Yeosang’s hips has the engorged head of his erection pressing against her clit. She bites down on his bottom lip at the sudden onslaught of pleasure, rolling her hips up to get more of the addictive friction.

“Gotta taste you. Want you to cum in my mouth.” Yeosang’s words don’t match up with his actions as he continues to peck her lips over and over again. Eager to discover if his tongue is just as talented as his hands, Ivy pulls away to gently push at his head until he gets the message.

The first swipe of his tongue on her soaked flesh is purely self-indulgent. He’s thrilled to discover that she tastes just as sweet as he thought she would. Like the nectar of a fresh honeydew. He sucks her clit into his mouth, biting down on it gently before swirling his tongue around it to soothe the ache. Her eyes roll into the back of her head and she can’t decide if she wants to run from or towards his mouth. She doesn’t get the chance to decide as Yeosang anchors her squirming hips to the bed with one of his arms.

He teases her entrance with a single finger, smirking at the filthy curses falling from her lips as she begs him to make her cum. He gives her clit a particularly harsh suck as he sinks his finger in deep. Her breathing starts coming in quick pants when he adds a second finger and then a third. When she starts folding in on herself, he pulls his fingers from her dripping hole. Her suddenly empty hole clenches around nothing as she complains about being denied the orgasm she was dancing on the edge of.

Her complaints die on her tongue when she takes in the sight of Yeosang walking on his knees towards her. Ivy sits up and meets him halfway. She can taste herself on his tongue as their lips meet for the second time and it has a fresh tidal wave of arousal all but gushing from her. His waning self-control is evident in the way he turns her around to face her headboard, pushing on her shoulders until she’s face down in in the sheets.

She whimpers at the heavy smack he rains down on her ass. He groans at the way it bounces before he grips both cheeks in his hands, pulling them apart to get a proper view of her waiting entrance. Part of him wants to tease her some more, but he doesn’t have it in him to wait one more minute. She nearly sobs at the satisfying stretch of him sinking into her eager flesh in one smooth thrust. He grinds his hips against her ass, relishing in the way her walls are hugging him so tightly. She clenches around him, trying to draw him back in as he eases his hips back only to roughly thrust his length back into her. He repeats that action a few more times to open her up before finally breaking loose.

All forms of speech beyond broken curse words and his name are lost to Ivy as Yeosang demolishes her. His pace builds till it’s almost frantic. It feels like his length is vibrating within her and she can feel her orgasm approaching quickly. She tries to warn him, but he is already well aware. He slows his hips down to a gentle roll and the change in pace has her seeing stars as he can now expertly target that sensitive spot deep within her. He reaches underneath her to rub circles in her clit and she’s lost. Black dots dance around across her vision as the pleasure threatens to completely drag her under. His hips never stop moving as he fucks her through it. The erratic clenching of her inner walls soon proves to be too much for him. He pulls out of her wet heat just in time to release his seed onto her back.

Ivy collapses onto her stomach. Exhausted beyond measure. Yeosang falls next to her breathing just as hard. He’s not going to lie and pretend that he hasn’t dived into more than his fair share of pussy, but that was easily the best sex he’s ever had. He can barely breathe but that doesn’t stop him from leaning over to press his lips against hers once more. Their chests are still heaving when they separate, choosing instead to lean his forehead against hers.

“I can’t feel my legs.” She whispers on a breathless laugh.

“Good thing I’m the king of aftercare.” He pecks her lips once more before crossing the room to her en suite bathroom to get a warm towel to clean her up with. By the time he returns, she’s fast asleep much to his surprise. Normally, Yeosang likes to end his trysts with a massage, but she’s sleeping so peacefully. He cleans up his mess before sliding back into the bed next to her as he pulls a spare blanket over them.

Yeosang awakens the next morning to an empty bed and the smell of coffee brewing. A shower is definitely in order before he seeks out Ms. Ivy. He walks into the kitchen a little while later to find her cooking breakfast in his t-shirt. It’s so domestic that for a moment he forgets that she’s legally spoken for until her wedding ring catches the sunlight from the picture windows.

“Morning.” He whispers into her ear. She jumps at the sound, obviously not realizing that he was awake yet. She relaxes against him when he wraps his arms around her midsection.

“Good morning, handsome. I’m almost done if you wanna grab some plates.” Yeosang preens at the compliment, kissing her cheek an obnoxious amount of times before grabbing plates and some silverware.

The sound of their forks clinking against their plates as they eat fills the pleasant silence as the two adults make faces across the table at each other like children. Yeosang can’t remember the last time he was this comfortable with a woman he was seeing. For the millionth time since he woke up this morning, he finds himself resenting the fact that she’s married.

“I can feel you staring.” Yeosang doesn’t bother looking up see Ivy’s facial expression at being caught as he rinses the last breakfast dish to put in the drying rack. “Spit it out before I get old and feeble.”

“What does the tattoo on your side say?” He looks up at her then, searching her face. Ivy is beginning to feel that she shouldn’t have said anything the longer Yeosang remains silent. He drys his hands on a towel, walking towards Ivy where she sits sprawled across one of the cushy armchairs in the living room. He lifts her only to set her back down in his lap.

“May you rescue us from the hand of every foe, ambush along the way, and from all manner of punishments that assemble to come to earth.” Yeosang absentmindedly strokes his fingers back and forth across Ivy’s bare thigh. “It’s part of a Hebrew prayer of protection that my mom made me get when she realized that her scolding was falling on deaf ears.”

Ivy can’t help but giggle as Yeosang enthusiastically re-enacts his mother’s words all those years ago. She’s seen the articles in the local magazines. They all tell the same story of a young street kid that found his calling and turned his life around, but words on a piece of paper doesn’t capture the nuance of who Kang Yeosang is. He doesn’t shy away from who he was. He embraces it with open arms. She listens intently as he tells the story that will never be found in any magazine. The story of how he successfully graduated from small-time dealing to running guns, drugs, and the occasional fine artifact when he was only twenty three.

“Would you do it differently if you had the chance?” Ivy picks at the hem of the Thriller he’d been wearing the day before as she awaits his answer. She’s admittedly shocked when he he gives an emphatic no.

“It wasn’t exactly something I could put on my resume, but it set this part of my life into motion.” She leans her head into the crook of his neck. Lulled into comfortable security by the vibration of his vocal cords. “I learned how to run a business. Granted, it was illegal, but I baked my first cake in jail which is what ultimately led to me opening the bakery and then meeting you.”

Time is a forgotten concept as they sit in the armchair sharing embarrassing childhood stories and fleeting kisses when they just can’t help themselves. That’s how Jin finds them. Giggling like teenagers that have finally earned closed door privileges. Yeosang freezes when he notices Jin’s still unsure how to act around him. Ivy on the other hand is excited to welcome her best friend back home.

“Jinnie!” She hops up to give him a quick hug and peck on the cheek before returning to her perch on Yeosang’s lap. Awkwardness is radiating off of the man beneath her in near tangible waves. He visibly relaxes when Ivy buries her fingers in the hair at the back of his head to scratch at his scalp.

“I missed you too, Vee. Good to see you again, Mr. Kang.” Jin winks conspiratorially at Yeosang as he cracks open the bottle of water he’d snagged from the refrigerator. “Take good care of my wife.” He adds as a parting shot on his way down the hall to his bedroom which sends Ivy into a fit of curses. Yeosang finds himself cracking a smile at the sound of Jin’s laughter somewhere down the hall.

It’s not the most conventional situation by any means, but Yeosang feels like he can make this work. He glances down at the grumbling woman in his arms. Yeah, he can definitely make this work.

Yeosang is elbow deep in bread dough for a new recipe he’s working on when he hears his phone ringing where he’d left it on the charger in his bedroom. He’s supposed to be heading to Ivy’s later tonight and he’s hoping to have her taste test his new bread when he gets there, meaning he can have no interruptions so he lets his phone go to voicemail. His phone rings again, but this time the song it plays catches his attention. The Alina Baraz song he’d set for Ivy’s ringtone drifts down the hallway. He instantly cracks a smile at the thought of the woman on the other end of that phone call. Passing up an opportunity to hear her voice is beyond Yeosang’s capabilities so he extracts himself from the dough, making a mad dash for the ringing device.

“Hey, babe.” She sniffles in his ear and all of his sense are suddenly on high alert. In all of the months since they started dating he can’t recall her crying. Ever. She’s just too happy. His mind runs through a myriad of horrible possibilities like film cuts. “Ivy, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

“I need you.” Yeosang has absolutely no idea what’s going on but his heart feels like it’s being ripped in two at the sound of her crying. He pulls his phone away from his ear when it pings. He has to swallow to keep himself together when he sees that Ivy has sent him her location.

“I’m on my way, baby. I’m coming.”

The other cars on the road look like blurs as Yeosang weaves between and around them at break neck speed. The hospital that Ivy is at is supposed to be a twenty seven minute drive according to google maps, but Yeosang is parking his mustang exactly sixteen minutes later. He’s honestly surprised that he wasn’t pulled over on the way, but his euphoric disbelief is short-lived as he dashes towards the front doors of the hospital.

“Can I help you?” The woman manning the front looks at Yeosang with a barely concealed air of distaste. He follows her eyes to his tattooed arms on display in the short sleeved shirt he’s wearing. He’s still pretty much covered in flour from his bread making and he can tell that she doesn’t think much of him. Normally, he would make an attempt to assuage people like her and show that tattoos don’t make the man, but he doesn’t have time for that.

“I’m looking for Ivy Kim.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny whether or not we have someone here by that name.”

“Listen, lady if you-” Yeosang is on the verge of falling into the trap of the old wench’s bias when he hears his name being called. He turns his head to see Jin waving him over from where he’s holding the elevator doors open. He flips the old lady off, delighting in her scandalized gasp as he jogs towards the bay of elevators.

Now that he’s closer, Yeosang notices the cuts and bruises that litter his friend’s face. He looks like he’s been beat pretty good, but he brushes off any questions about what happened. Yeosang is on the verge of choking on his nerves as he follows Jin off of the elevator to room 437.

“I’m going to get some coffee. You guys need to talk.” Jin claps Yeosang on the shoulder once as he goes back the way they came.

He’d risked life and limb to get here, but now he’s afraid to take one more step. He has no idea what’s going on, but he can feel it in his bones that nothing will be the same once he steps through this door. Yeosang’s phone vibrates just then with a notification from the Nike app about some stuff he left in his cart. The little nike swoosh on his phone screen feels like a divine sign for him to stop being such a pussy and go in the room.

Seeing Ivy curled into a ball in the middle of the hospital bed is nearly his undoing. The tears steadily streaming down her face catch the light from the hallway when she turns her head to see who it is. A sob racks her figure as she reaches for him. Yeosang shuts the door, plunging the room back into darkness as he rushes to her side. He’s not used to her looking this fragile and it’s killing him. He kicks his shoes off and climbs into the bed next to her, careful not to jostle the IV needle in her arm. She leans into his touch as he brushes her hair away from her face. The fabric of his shirt is no match for the barrage of tears that Ivy dumps on it. He lets her cry until she has nothing left. For a moment he thinks that she’s fallen asleep, but she whispers something against the skin of his neck. Her voice is so low that he can’t make it out even with her lips being mere inches from his hair.

“You’ve gotta speak up for me, love.” This time when she speaks, he hears her loud and clear.

“I lost our baby.”

He can hear her saying something about a car accident and blood, but her words don’t register in his brain. Yeosang feels like the ground has opened up beneath him, but he’s not falling. Simply hovering, drifting in the void. He hadn’t even known she was pregnant and that’s definitely something Ivy would have told him so he’s guessing that she didn’t know either. Visions of a tiny child with her doe-like eyes and his nose flash across his minds eye. Yeosang has never given much thought to being a father, but knowing that he’d created a child with Ivy only for them to be ripped away like this is tearing him apart. He holds her impossibly close, trying to anchor himself to reality. Tears are flowing down his own face as he attempts to process what they’ve lost.

“This is all my fault.” The guilt in her voice is nearly palpable. Yeosang cups her face in his hands to force her to look him in the eye.

“You did nothing wrong, Ivy. Get that thought out of you head right now, do you hear me?” Ivy nods her head slowly but Yeosang is not naive. No matter what he says, it’s going to take a while before she actually believes the truth in his words.

Jin hates to interrupt them. He loathes it, but life is cruel and Ivy’s parents just texted him that they just parked their car and are on their way inside. His feet feel heavy as he treks back down the hallway. He pokes his head into the dark room and winces at the muffled sound of them crying together.

“I’m so sorry guys, but Ivy’s parents are on their way up.” Yeosang gets the urge to laugh despite the fact that absolutely nothing is funny. This is just adding insult to injury.

Ivy clings to him like a koala when he tries to stand and he’s got half a mind to say fuck the consequences and stay. That wouldn’t be fair to Jin though. He harbors no ill will towards the man even though he’s living the life he wants so for his sake, he extricates himself from Ivy’s grasp to put his shoes on. Her bottom lip quivers dangerously as he leans down to softly kiss her forehead. Jin pulls Yeosang into a hug before he can walk past him and it takes a herculean effort for Yeosang to keep it together. His heart aches with every step he takes towards the exit stairs. It feels like someone is taking a jackhammer to his chest.

He leans his head back against the headrest when he finally reaches his car. A pained yell bursts from his throat before he can even think of trying to stop it. His horn beeps erratically as he pounds at his steering wheel in anger. Yeosang has been through hell in his twenty six years on Earth and yet, he can’t recall a time when he’s ever felt this much mental anguish and despair. Part of him wishes that he’d never stopped slinging coke and running the streets because he’d have never met Ivy and thus would’ve never experienced this. He hates that thought the second it materializes.

The shrill ringing of an old school phone that Yunho had insisted on having as his ringtone breaks through his misery. Yeosang has no desire to utter a word to anyone other than Ivy but Yunho is a persistent bastard. He’ll just keep calling until he gets an answer. He clears his throat and hopes that his childhood best friend is having an off day with those damn spidey senses of is.

“Hello?”

“Dude, have you been crying? No wonder my spirit is unsettled. The fuck is going on?” So much for eluding Yunho’s questions. Yeosang huffs out a shaky breath. He’s not even sure he’s even fully grasped what’s going on himself. He can hear the sound of keys jingling on Yunho’s end.

“Listen, I’m gonna go buy an obnoxious amount of alcohol and then I’m coming over to you place. See you in twenty.” Yunho doesn’t wait for a response, hanging up the phone with a sense of finality.

True to his word, Yunho’s car is parked in front of his building when Yeosang makes it home. His car is empty, so he’s guessing that he must have used his key and gone inside already. He’s not surprised to find Yunho nursing a beer on his couch as he scrolls through something on his phone. His eyes widen slightly as he takes in Yeosang’s haggard appearance. He knows he looks like shit so Yunho’s reaction isn’t unexpected.

It’s nearly three in the morning when they finally crash. Yunho is passed out in the guest room but sleep evades him despite the multiple beers swirling through his system. If he was sober, he probably wouldn’t make this decision, but he’s far from it so he reaches for his phone to FaceTime Ivy. The second her face replaces his on the screen, Yeosang immediately feels like he can breathe again. He’d been avoiding the feeling before now, but after everything that’s happened in the last twenty four hours? He’s tired of beating around the bush.

“I love you, Ivy.” The smile that spreads across her tired face brings Yeosang so much joy. There’s no telling how long it’s been since she’s graced the world with one of her radiant smiles. He takes it as a victory that he was the one to bring that out of her.

“I love you too, Yeosang.”

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